Friday, November 7, 2014

Car terrorism in Jerusalem will not stop Israelis from living their lives

I'm leaving for a short trip to Israel in a few short weeks.  What about the Palestinian's new way to attack Israelis, car terrorism?  Will it stop me from going?  No, but I examine this new wave of violence.


What to do about car terrorism
By Stephen M. Flatow/JNS.org

As I prepare for an upcoming visit to Israel, I cant help but feel a twinge of apprehension. How could it be otherwise? The recent vehicular terrorist attacks in Jerusalem inevitably make every visitor to the city wonder who will be the next victim.

On Oct. 22, a Palestinian terrorist rammed his car into a crowd at a Jerusalem light rail station, murdering two people, one of them a 3-month-old baby. On Nov. 5, another terrorist used his van as a weapon against pedestrians at another light rail station in the Israeli capital, killing one person and wounding more than a dozen others.

The seeming randomness of the attacks is particularly terrifyingexactly as the killers intend. The attacker doesnt need any bomb-making skills or expertise as a sniper. He doesnt have to elude security check points or Israeli army patrols. All he has to do is get in his car and step on the gas pedal. He can strike anywhere, any time.

And yet if you walk down any street in Jerusalem this morning, you will see Israelis going about their daily lives as they always do. They dont seem especially worried. Theyre not going to stop taking the train. They know that a crowd at a bus stop or outside a movie theater or on a corner waiting for the green walk signal could be targets too. Life has to go on. Israelis dont worry because they have no choice. Visitors worry because they do. They can and will soon return to their home countries, where standing on a street corner is not a life-endangering action. That is a difference between the lives of Americans and Israelis that cant be bridged.

Yet there is another, and very important, difference. The average Israeli cant do much about Palestinian terrorism. But the average American Jew can.

Israelis have little choice but to rely on the police and the army to continue doing everything possible to preempt the terrorists in their on-going genocidal war against them. American Jews, however, have the ability to take political action that could make a real difference in the fight against Palestinian terrorism.

Let us recognize that car terrorists do not simply appear out of nowhere. Abdel Rahman al-Shaludi, who carried out the Oct. 22 attack, had twice served time in prison for terrorist activities. His uncle, Mohiyedine Sharif, was a senior Palestinian terrorist who was killed in an intra-Arab feud in 1998. Ibrahim al-Akari, who perpetrated the Nov. 5 attack, was the brother of Musa al-Akari, who was convicted in the kidnap-murder of an Israeli border policeman and was freed in the Gilad Shalit prisoner exchange.

Al-Shaludi and al-Akari are the products of a society, and a culture, in which murdering Jewswhether by bomb, knife, or automobileis praised and rewarded. Remember It Takes a Village, the childrens book by then-U.S. Senator Hillary Clinton? She argued that it is not just the immediate family that influences a child, but also ones neighbors, culture, and community standards.

What influenced Abdel Rahman al-Shaludi and Ibrahim Akari to become car terrorists? One source was the Palestinian Authoritys leadership and social media.

Exhibit A: Sultan al-Einen. Hes a senior adviser to Palestinian Authority president Mahmoud Abbas and a member of the Central Committee of Fatah, which is the largest faction of the PLO (the PAs parent body) and is also chaired by Abbas. Hes not quite the Palestinian equivalent of Valerie Jarrett or (until recently) David Axelrod, but hes up there.

Palestinian Media Watch has compiled a long list of statements by Einen praising terrorists. But the one that attracted the most attention was his public praise, in May 2013, of a terrorist who stabbed to death an Israeli father of five. Einen said the killer was a heroic fighter and called for blessings to the breast that nursed him. In response, five members of CongressRepublican Ed Royce (Calif.) and Democrats Eliot Engel (N.Y.), Nita Lowey (N.Y.), Ted Deutch (Fla.), and Brad Sherman (Calif.)wrote to Abbas, demanding that he fire Einen.

Abbas ignored the letter.

After the car attack by al-Shaludi two weeks ago, Einen publicly hailed him as a heroic martyr and charged that Israel murdered him in cold blood. Fatahs Facebook page is replete with cartoons extolling car terrorism and urging viewers to Hit the gas at 199 [km/h] for Al-Aqsa.

Now is the time for American Jews to ask those five members of Congress to take actionnot just another letter that Abbas will ignore, but the imposition of penalties that Abbas cannot ignore. Heres one idea: from now on, deduct the cost of medical treatment for victims of Palestinian terrorism from the $500-million that the U.S. gives the Palestinian Authority each year. Make them pay for the damage they cause.

There are many other ways in which American Jews, working closely with friends in Congress, can force Mahmoud Abbas and the Palestinian Authority to stop praising and glorifying terrorists. That would be the first, important step in the process of changing the culture in Palestinian villages that is raising children to become car terrorists.

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

N.Y.TIMES' TOUR OF IRAN: P.R. VICTORY FOR DICTATORS?

N.Y.TIMES' TOUR OF IRAN: P.R. VICTORY FOR DICTATORS?

By Rafael Medoff

The controversy over the New York Times-sponsored luxury excursion to Iran is a reminder that totalitarian regimes are always looking for ways to soften their image--and there always seem to be someone ready to oblige.

With veteran Times correspondent Elaine Sciolino as their guide, travelers who pay $6,995 each will spend thirteen days visiting a very different Iran from the one we've all read so much about. Not the Iran of terror-sponsorship, nuclear arms development, Holocaust-denial and oppression of minorities--no, they'll see "beautiful landscapes, arid mountains and rural villages, [and] vibrant bazaars,” according to the Times' promotional pitch. Sciolino and company will “get lost in ancient cities and learn about the traditions and cultures of Iran. Traveling in a small group and staying in luxurious hotels along the way, [their] journey through Iran will reveal the secrets from this once forbidden land.”

Sadly, it's all been done before.

In the 1920s, Soviet dictator Josef Stalin welcomed numerous American intellectuals and cultural celebrities. Among them was Isadora Duncan, one of the leading figures in American dance in the 1920s, who returned from Soviet Russia bursting with enthusiasm for the Communist cause. She soon began concluding her performances by waving a red scarf over her head, while shouting, "This is red! So am I! It is the color of life and vigor!" 

During the 1930s, Nazi Germany welcomed visitors, especially from the American academic community. This sordid story has been chronicled in Prof. Stephen Norwood's critically-acclaimed book, The Third Reich in the Ivory Tower. American University chancellor Joseph Gray, for example, returned from a visit to Nazi Germany "full of praise" for the Hitler regime. Gray reported to the American public in 1936 that German cities were "amazingly clean" and that "everybody was working in Germany."

That same year, more than twenty U.S. universities sent delegates to take part in celebrations at the Nazi-controlled University of Heidelberg, scene of some of the earliest mass book-burnings. In fact, the chief book-burner, Nazi Propaganda Minister Josef Goebbels, presided over one of the receptions for the American delegates. Columbia University's representative, Prof. Arthur Remy, reported that mingling with Goebbels and company was "very enjoyable."

Prof. Norwood describes how American students, too, visited Nazi Germany, thanks to a program of student exchanges with German universities, in which Columbia, Harvard, Yale, Princeton and others took part. Even after a German official's candidly asserted that his country's students were being sent abroad to serve as "political soldiers of the Reich," only Williams College terminated the exchanges.

During the Holocaust itself, Hitler used visits by foreigners to help camouflage the mass murder of the Jews. As part of this disinformation strategy, the Nazis in June 1944 invited a delegation from the International Red Cross to visit Theresienstadt, the Jewish ghetto that the Nazis had created in Czechoslovakia. Theresienstadt was a transit point for Jews being shipped to the gas chambers in Auschwitz, but the Nazis sought to present the camp as a final destination, where Jewish prisoners lived happily.

In the days before the Red Cross visit, the Nazis worked the Jewish inmates at breakneck speed to pretty up the site. Houses were freshly painted--but only those portions that would be visible to the Red Cross inspectors as they walked down the street on the preselected route. Schools, stores, a bank and a cafe were quickly built, to give the appearance of a normal village. Deportations to Auschwitz were increased so as to temporarily relieve overcrowding in the camp. With Theresienstadt's flower beds neatly trimmed and its orchestra well rehearsed, the Red Cross delegates saw only what the Nazis wanted them to see.

The visitors' subsequent reports to Red Cross headquarters were critical of some aspects of Theresienstadt, but also described conditions there as "relatively good." They agreed with the Germans' contention that it was a final-destination camp--even though the Red Cross knew that the population of Theresienstadt at the time of the visit was 30,000 less than it had been shortly before. From the Germans' point of view, the visit was quite a success.

In different forms, this phenomenon has continued in recent decades. From Jane Fonda visiting Hanoi, to Jack Nicholson meeting Fidel Castro (and praising him as "a genius") to ex-basketball star Dennis Rodman traveling to North Korea last year, more than a few Americans have enjoyed the charms of a carefully-choreographed visit and then returned to share with the U.S. public a whitewashed picture of life under a dictator's heel.

(Dr. Medoff is founding director of The David S. Wyman Institute for Holocaust Studies, http://www.wymaninstitute.org/)

Friday, October 24, 2014

Abbas's Responsibility for Murder

Abbas is responsible for murder.

One has to call a spade a spade.  Palestinians are never at a loss for words when it comes to describing Israel and its citizens.  Lambasting Israel at the UN a few weeks, Abu Mazen, aka Mahmoud Abbas, accused Israel of a genocide in Gaza.

The Palestinian Authority continues to honor and pay tribute to terrorist murderers and applauds all sorts of terror attacks.

This week saw the murder of a young infant when the driver of a car drove down the platform of the light rail train in Jerusalem.  Who is to blame?  Read Khaled Abu Toameh's report from the Gatestone Institute and get his take on it.  I can't say that I disagree.

But I do have one question - where are the voices of  Palestinians who want to live side by side with Israel in peace?

Abbas's Responsibility for Murder

Stephen M. Flatow

Monday, October 20, 2014

Daughters tell it like it is about Metropolitan Opera 'Death of Klinghoffer' is an injustice to our father's memory

Very little could be more painful to the daughters of Leon Klinghoffer than a play that attempts to justify his murder.

Here is his daughters' take on the Metropolitan Opera's presentation of "Death of Klinghoffer."

'Death of Klinghoffer' is an injustice to our father's memory | Lisa and Ilsa Klinghoffer | The Blogs | The Times of Israel

The Metropolitan Opera should be embarrassed by this production.  Shame on the MET.

Stephen M. Flatow

Sunday, October 12, 2014

Sukkot thoughts by the parent of a victim of terror

The Jewish holiday of Sukkot begins on Tishri 15, the fifth day after Yom Kippur. It is quite a drastic transition, from one of the most solemn holidays in the Jewish year to one of the most joyous. Sukkot is so unreservedly joyful that it is commonly referred to in Jewish prayer and literature as Z'man Simchateinu, the Season of our Rejoicing.

Sukkot is marked by the construction of temporary dwellings as mandated in the Torah.  For a fuller discussion, see Judaism 101.

In any event, I was invited to speak before Congregation Keter Torah in Teaneck, New Jersey on the second day of the holiday.

My written remarks follow.  Translations are indicated by italics.

* * *

The sukkah is life

           Rabbi Baum, thank you for this gracious invitation to speak from the bimah today. 

          I have spoken from this bimah before, the last time when I recited the first sheva bracha [seven blessings] under the chuppa [wedding canopy] when Gail married Binyamin.  We are still arguing over who got the better of that deal.

          We were all busy the last few days preparing for the chag [holiday].  We located the pieces of the sukkah in our basements or garages, then stood on ladders joining together corners, then taking them down when we realized they were upside down.         We tried to remember which way the windows opened or whether the canvas was on the right side of the frame, and kept saying to ourselves, did I do it this way last year?  

          We found the s’chach [covering] or bought new when we realized we didn’t have enough although we had enough last year.

          And, finally, we watched with pride as the decorations so laboriously made by our children, or bought by our wives, went up and, miracle of miracles, the timers and lights worked. 

          Of course, you could have done what I did, that is call my local Chabad guys who sold me the sukkah in the first place and have them put it up in exchange for a modest contribution.

          Those of us who learned their preliminary Judaic traditions from the Jewish Catalogue could easily refer to the instructions it contained on how to build a kosher sukkah.  You will find the instructions on page 129.  It discussed how many walls it needed, what to use for the walls and covering, and even contained a parts list of cinder blocks for the corners, 2 x 4s and 1 x 2s.

          In 1979, using the back wall of my house as the 4th wall, our first sukkah went up in the backyard of our first home in West Orange with the cinder block corners, the wood supports, walls made out of bamboo strip fencing that came in a 40 foot roll, and branches from the backyard trees for the s’chach.  We were set to go.

          As the marginal notes in the Jewish Catalogue tell you, “never make the sukkah overly comfortable.  It should shake in the wind.”[i]  And boy was it uncomfortable and it didn’t so much shake in the wind as the walls rippled in a wave from one end to the other depending on the wind direction.  But who cared, it was our first sukkah and we slept in it the first night.

          Sukkot is a special time for children, they like the decorations, and they like to see what their friends have done. As your daughter gets older, she goes on a sukkah hop and comes back to tell you in a whisper that she didn’t think the sukkah at one of the houses was 100% kosher.           

          Why?  “It looked like a part of the s’chach was under the shade of a tree.”  With alarm I asked, “What did you do?” 

          She answers, “You’re silly daddy, I made the bracha [blessing] in a part of the sukkah that I was sure was kosher.”

          Not a bad answer, I thought, from a child getting a yeshiva education at a cost of $2,500 per year.  [Oh, before you start making noises, bear in mind I was making $25,000 per year then.]

          As our children progress in their studies, we learn, too.  And as we advance down that path things change.  It was then that I learned that the shulchan aruch [Code of Jewish Law] is full of dos and don’ts when it comes to building the sukkah and the s’chach.  No more a sukkah built from scratch.  Our next one had to be one made out of steel poles, with blue walls, and bamboo poles for the s’chach.  And, yes, during the second year, I realized that I had lost the assembly instructions.  So, it was up and down the ladder for me.

          As your family expands, you go for the wood panel job, with a door on hinges, and now you have graduated to bamboo mats, the kosher kind, of course, for the s’chach. 

          And when your family gets still larger, and you want to be able to have guests join you for a meal, you add a panel to each side.

          All is well for many years, and then, as if overnight, the kids are married, and wonders never cease, begin having children of their own, and you begin to spend yom tov with them in Bergenfield.  You no longer need the 20’ x 10’ sukkah with the 4 bamboo mats.  You find that an 8 x 10 is more than enough for a few days of chol hamoed  [intermediate days of a holiday.]

          There is a discussion among the rabbis as to what the sukkah symbolizes.  Does it recall the protection of the clouds that hovered over the children of Israel in the desert?  Or does it recall the actual construction of temporary booths built during the wandering?  The Talmud in mesechta Sukkah daf beit amad aleph is clear that we are required to leave our permanent dwelling and live in a temporary one throughout the chag. 

          Of course, being that we are talking about a tradition, there’s a third understanding—that both interpretations are true.[ii]

          The temporary nature of the sukkah poses a problem.  Sometimes the wind is very strong.  Sometimes it causes the s’chach to fall in our heads while we’re in the sukkah.  Other times, we awake in the morning to see mats on the ground, or a wall collapse.  Heartbroken, we run to the rav to get instructions on when we can and how we can repair the sukkah.

          I would like to suggest a third reason for the sukkah.  And that is the sukkah represents life. 

          For life, like the sukkah, can be uncomfortable, it can shake as if blown by the wind, and sometimes the s’chach collapses around you. 

          At the end of the day, despite our cinder block corners, despite our metal cross bars, despite the snap-in joints, the sukkah is not a solid structure.

          Neither is life.  And as we marry and create a family structure, we must admit that sometimes we put the pieces together backwards, or upside down, and we may have to go up and down ladder many times, or take apart the poles and reassemble them.

          Life happens to all of us.

          A week before Pesach [Passover] in 1995 I exchange emails with Alisa who tells me she wants to go with friends to Petra to see the Nabataean city famous for its rock-cut architecture and water conduit system. 

          She asks if she has enough money in her credit card to pay for it.  She writes in what was to be our final email exchange, “I like America,” which to me was her at long last admission that she liked her allowance and the privileges we had given her.

          Yet, it turns out that her proposed traveling companions did not have the funds to make the trip.  So Petra is out, and she plans a trip to the Israeli community in Gush Katif on the shore of the Mediterranean in Gaza.

          When I last spoke to Alisa late motzei Shabbat on April 8th, Sunday morning her time, she was telling me about her trip to Gush Katif and I asked her what was so special about the place.  She said that the beach has separate swimming and sitting areas for men and women, that the weather was going to be 80+ degrees and that she wanted to get a sun tan before Pesach began at the end of the week.

          We reviewed the traveling rules I had given her and, approving of them, I told her to have a good time, and to call us when she returned to Jerusalem on Wednesday.  I hung up the phone and went to bed.

          The next morning, while in shul, the phone rang.  I went to answer it because I knew it was for me. 

          You see, as I drove to shul that morning I heard of a bus bombing in Gaza.  And although I did not hear the sound of the explosion or anyone’s cries of pain, I knew that Alisa was involved and that only God could help at this point.  I didn’t want to alarm my wife Rosalyn, so instead of turning around, I continued on my way.

          Now, Roz was on the other end of the phone.  She had just gotten a call from the mother of one of Alisa’s traveling companions who happens to live not too far from here.  The girls had been in a terrorist bus bombing and her friends were taken away from the scene so quickly that they became separated from Alisa and didn’t know where she was.  I returned home.

          In an hour or so, we located Alisa in a hospital in Beer Sheva.  Having two doctors tell me that she was injured in the head and I should come right away, I flew to Israel that afternoon.  And 48 hours after last speaking to her, I was at Alisa’s bedside. 

          While there had been no encouragement when I spoke to the doctors on Sunday, I didn’t ask if her injury was life threatening.  They now explained that Alisa was dead because she was no longer breathing on her own.  At the recommendation of Rabbi Moshe Tendler, we called in a rabbi, a pediatric neurologist who writes books on Halacha and medicine, for his opinion, and after ordering additional tests, he concurred.

          The daughter who would roll her dark brown eyes and laugh at my stupid jokes, who taught me that  blue socks don’t go with a black suit, and who crocheted my first personalized kippah, would no longer roll her eyes, laugh at me, teach me how to dress or crochet another  kippah.

          While we agreed to transplant her organs to give life to several Israelis, the s’chach had just fallen on my head.

          When the s’chach falls in this way there is no shulchan aruch to turn to for the dos and don’ts.  Your rabbi can tell you that your daughter died al Kiddush Hashem, in the sanctification of God’s name.  But that’s only a start.

          Instead, you have to find your own way to rebuild the s’chach.

          You can do that by taking on the foreign country that financially sponsored your daughter’s murderers.  You then find yourself fighting your own government which appears to be taking the side of your enemy.

          You rely on your own resources and realize that you are part of a 2,000 year old chain of events that has caught up the Jewish people.  You can think about the survivors of the Holocaust who put back together their lives after losing families.

          You can remember that for the past 100 years the Jews of, first, Palestine, and now, Israel, have been caught up in a genocidal campaign waged by the surrounding Arab population.  When you realize that more than 20,000 Jews have been murdered in Israel, you have to pause and consider that each victim had a family, and they got up from shiva, got dressed, went to work, raised families and built a nation.  I had no right to hide under the covers.

          Every now and then, someone will ask if I have any regrets about that last telephone call.  Yes, I say, and they think I am going to regret that I allowed her to go to Gush Katif.  Instead, I tell them I regret that when I finished talking to Alisa, I didn’t say “I love you.”

          I squandered the opportunity for my last words with her to be something meaningful to me and I hope to her.  My heart would still have been broken but perhaps the pain would have hurt just a little less.

          As I sit in the sukkah this year, as I have done for the past 19 years, I will watch the walls move gently in the wind, and I will look up to see the stars twinkling through the permitted space of the s’chach.

          I will see the sukkah of olam habah and the table set by the Almighty for those murdered al Kiddush Hashem. It’s a long table but a beautiful one.

          I see that it is set with the finest linen, gold cups and silver candlesticks, and it overflows with the food that He provides. 

          I see Alisa dressed in her finest.  She has a big smile on her face, her eyes shine and her dimples are deep.  Her face glows as she passes the challah dipped in honey to Naftali, Eyal and Gilad.  And I will hear her laugh as she tells the boys, “it’s OK, make the bracha, the s’chach is kosher.”


 


יהי רצון
 



 


          May it be G-d’s will that he spread his sheltering cloud over us and klal Yisrael, that our  s’chach be kosher and quickly repaired when it falls in on us and that we never miss the opportunity to say I love you.

          Chag sameah.       

         

 


 

 



[i] P. 129, Siegel, Richard, Strassfeld, Michael and Sharon, The Jewish Catalogue, Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society of America, 1973
[ii] For a detailed discussion, see Introduction to Succos- its Significance, Laws and Prayers; Artscroll Mesorah Series; Brooklyn, Mesorah Publications, 1982.