Crossing the Yarden

By Yarden Frankl

Dear World

Dear World,

I am writing on behalf of my friends, neighbors, and fellow citizens of the State of Israel. They are a little busy right now up North, but I expect them home shortly.

I have been reading of your excessive concern for the Lebanese people. I have seen your news reports about "innocent civilians" who were killed because of our lack of concern for their lives. I have heard so many of your leaders condemn our attempt to defend ourselves.

Of course I didn't expect you to show this concern when the rockets started flying. That's all right. I hate to point this out, but when our people are dying, we don't give a damn what you say. Sorry, but we have not had very good experience waiting for your approval for our actions.

You think this is "disproportionate?" Hold on a second. The guy who delivers orange juice to my house was just called up. He is in the paratroops. Wait till he gets there. Then you might see the real meaning of the word "disproportionate."

You might have thought that we lack unity. After all, it was just a year ago our own government decided to try and make "peace" by throwing some of us out of our homes. You may have misunderstood the frequent calls for soldiers to disobey orders. That was an internal matter. Now, both the soldiers who did the expelling and those who were expelled are fighting side by side. My friend's brother is one of the deadliest individuals on the planet. He was tossed out of his home last year with his family. Yes, he is bitter about that. Yet today, he is doing what he was trained to do, defending his nation. I would not want to be a terrorist within his sights.

The son of a friend of mine is really ticked off. A few weeks ago he started a special course that took him away from his elite unit. He would do anything to be back with them now. He is very frustrated that he is not with them, despite the danger they are facing. No, he does not have a wish to be a martyr. He just wants to protect our nation.

I, myself, who did not even complete the Boy Scouts, wanted to do something. A friend called me and asked if a couple of us would volunteer to help his Army unit on a special project. Neither of us thought twice about spending a day, doing what we could. After a long day, we were tired, sweaty, and rather dirty. But we felt great.

I should point out that I moved to Israel last year and now live in what you refer to as a "West Bank Settlement" on "Occupied Territory." But as I said earlier, I don't care what you have to say about that. Go ahead, pass your resolutions. Have fun.

What is our motivation? How can a country that not too long ago was at each other's throats be so unified and so determined? The reason is that we have people like Michael Levine. Michael also moved here from America. The center of his life was his Army unit. When the war broke out, he was in America. He quickly returned and demanded to go into Lebanon with his group. He was just a kid, but had more courage and understanding than most people twice his age.

This morning a friend called in tears. Michael had been killed. She told me that Michael always said he was prepared to die to defend his nation. Tragically, this young man did exactly that. No, I didn't expect you to realize that there is a difference between someone prepared to give his life to defend his nation and someone prepared to give his life to kill people. But we do understand here, far too clearly.

We are the nation of Israel. We are the embodiment of a 2,000 year old dream. We have survived more wars, more terror attacks, more rejection of our nation's right to exist than any of you. But you know something, for all those killed by suicide bombers and rockets, for all your stupid, racist resolutions condemning us for existing, for all those like Michael Levine who gave his life to defend us, get one message through your damn thick skulls once and for all:

This is our Nation, and we are not going anywhere. Not now, not ever.

And despite all this, we still pray to have a Shabbat Shalom in our blessed nation.

© 2006 Yarden Frankl