I want to start this article by apologizing. I would really love to write a cheerful article on just about any subject. That is not to be so. But one thing I can promise you is that it is a story with a happy ending, because I am writing about the Jewish nation and we all know that those who sow in tears shall reap in joy.
Six-and-a-half months ago my family moved to Gush Katif to strengthen the people of Gush Katif and our hold on the Land of Israel.
Actually, I do not see a difference in these two purposes. Rather, I see them as two intertwined and inseparable beliefs. The Land of Israel and the people of Israel. Three weeks ago my family was thrown out of our home and land in the settlement of Shirat Hayam along with 18 other families, who had become like family to us. Unlike other friends from Gush Katif, I have a house in Elon Moreh. I am not homeless. I am not a refugee in the literal sense of the word. Then why do I feel like I am?
For six months my family lived in Gush Katif. We started out in Kfar Darom, a settlement of 80 families. When the renovations of our house in Shirat Hayam were completed, we moved there. This is – it is too hard for me to say “was”; please be indulgent – a settlement on the sea side. The windows of the shul face the sea. How many shuls do you know where you can talk to the Ribono Shel Olam and 50 percent of the scenery is Bereishis? No matter what you do to the ocean, it stays the way it was the day it was created. Sometimes the waves are calm, and sometimes they are wild and find no solace.
I am a first grade teacher. I don’t remember how many times I have taught sefer Bereishis. I would say that teaching the first book of the Bible to tinokos shel bis raban (children) is a special privilege. Teaching the Bible in Israel is even more special, because the children know where every place is: Beit El, Chevron, Shechem, Beer Sheva, the Jordan Valley, and the list goes on. The whole book is alive. We try to teach them that ma’ase avos siman lebanim, our ancestors’ deeds presage our own. Everything that happened to our avos (Patriarchs) happens to us. The whole Chumash is alive today, as are the people and the Land of Israel.
I have to admit that there was one story that I always had a hard time explaining (to myself). How could Joseph’s brothers throw him into the pit? In the back of my mind, I always thought that this couldn’t happen in our enlightened society. Unfortunately, I learned otherwise.
After Tisha b’Av this year, the army came and evacuated 1700 families from their homes in Gush Katif and the southern part of the Shomron. It took six days to evacuate the people. Against all predictions, the settlers were not violent. According to the press, the people of Shirat Hayam were expected to be aggressive. All I can say is that the guidelines of the settlement leaders were not to hurt any soldier physically and not to insult them. And the people of Shirat Hayam did as they were told.
I do not want to go into details of how we were evacuated, because it is done and over with. I will say that we cried and feel like a part of our heart has been pulled out. I will also say that there are more pictures than the ones that made it to the newspapers. Not all soldiers were sympathetic and compassionate. I will not go into the hard details, because we must not dwell on what has been done. We must look ahead.
There are now 9,000 refugees with no homes or jobs. As this article is being written, the school year is two days away, and children do not know where they will go to school.
Now, you might say why didn’t these communities get their act together a year ago? The communities that tried to do that were not given the opportunity to stay together. True compensation for the value of the houses is not being offered. The temporary solutions are greatly lacking. How can a person taken from his home against his will, a home that the government sent him to live in, over 20 years ago, be forced to accept partial compensation? In the meantime, many families are located in hotels for 10 days to two weeks. After that, everyone is expected to find temporary solutions.
Some people have already moved into their “karavillas” (two bedroom caravans for families with four, five, and more children). These are basically trailer neighborhoods, a temporary solution until new homes are built.
When they asked to open their own schools they were refused. The children will be mainstreamed. (Translation: no more Bais Yaakov or TA or TI; just go where we send you and say thank you.) What about mikvas? That was also deemed unnecessary. (“I promise you that a solution will be found.”)
None of our lives will ever be same. It is not possible.
I will give an example. One friend of ours studied in a kollel in Kafar Darom. He taught in Neve Dekalim in two separate institutions. His children learned in Atzmona in the Talmud Torah. His wife was active with the Neve Dekalim youth. And he lives in Shirat Hayam. There is no way that all of these diverse places will stay together. In other words, after 12 years, go get a new life.
Some families were four generations in Gush Katif. There are some couples that are three to four generation on both sides. These young couples cannot even go to their parents because they too were evacuated. One young lady gave birth and cannot go to her parents or her husband’s parents, because everyone is a refugee.
Gush Katif exported $1,000,000 in produce a year, 15 percent of all of Israel’s agricultural exports. What will happen to those farmers? To that loss in the economy?
I have a neighbor named Oz Levran, who is a farmer. He grows lettuce for the Alei Katif company: 60 dunam of land. His parents live in a neighboring settlement. They are also farmers, as are his brothers and sisters, all on their own farms. He lives in Shirat Hayam. He wants to stay close to his family. He wants to stay with Shirat Hayam.
And he wants to continue being a farmer. Alei Katif has offered him some land, which he will probably take. I asked him if the land is the same quality that he had. He said no, but he is not looking back at what he once had. He said if he wants to survive he must look ahead.
I learned a lot from Oz. He planted lettuce two-and-a-half weeks before the evacuation. It takes three weeks for lettuce to grow in his greenhouse. Yes, he knows how to count but he also believes in G-d. And until the last minute he did not give up hope that maybe there would be a miracle. Some of his lettuce was picked after the evacuation started, and special stickers were prepared that read “picked on the day of the evacuation.”
Oz did not give up faith that maybe G-d would have mercy on us and annul the decree and let him continue turning the Gaza coast into a paradise. This did not happen. But he is going on and plans to build new greenhouses. Do not worry, in a few weeks you will be able to buy his bugless lettuce. He is standing tall and straight, and as his name is, so is he – Oz, strength. If you look into his eyes you see the sadness. But you will also see determination that G-d gave and G-d took and now he must go on and accept the will of G-d.
And really, that is the true story. We are going through a very hard time in the history of Israel. It hurts that we gave away part of the Promised Land. The Six Day War was a miracle, and if a person believes that he has the right to give up part of the miracle, it is like denying the miracle itself, as though one is saying, “My own strength and might brought me my success.”
Yes, it is a hard time. But it is also a magnificent time.
The prayers that were said all over the world were heard and not forgotten. The days before the evacuation, there were many prayer sessions and much singing and dancing. The songs that were sang were like the songs you sing at seuda shelishis, slow and from the soul. The hour of twilight. It is a very special hour for all of us. It might look like we lost our battle, but to see the people of Israel at this hour was a big zechus (privilege). Busloads of Americans came to Israel, got off the plane, and instead of going to a nice hotel, came to Gush Katif to live in tents, in the heat. Many of these Americans were not youngsters, either. Teenagers from all over the country gave up their summer vacation and came to Gush Katif to live without the comforts of a house and family. Families in Gush Katif opened their doors at their time of trouble and took in guests. Many homes grew to 40 members overnight.
Many soldiers, following the rabbinic ruling of great gedolim, refused to participate in the evacuation. They knew they would be punished by going to army jail, but they did as their rabbis told them to do. Many were thrown out of elite courses because of this.
Farmers continued working their fields as a sign of their belief in G-d and of their not giving up, even with a sharp sword against their throats.
And now, in spite of everything our spirit has not been broken. Settlements are discussing where they should move to. One of their biggest considerations is where can they help their people, the Jewish nation, the most. You would expect to see anger, but beyond the sadness there is determination. There is a belief that we will not be defeated because Netzach Yisrael lo yishaker.
Yes, I promised a happy ending.
Let’s go back to Joseph. Joseph was sold by his brothers and went to Egypt. He went through many hard years. We, too, are going through a hard era. There are no words to describe the tears that fell this Tisha B’Av when we read in Megilas Eicha the pasuk (5:2), “Our inheritance has been turned over to aliens, our homes to foreigners.” But let’s keep reading about Joseph: “Joseph said, ‘It wasn’t you who sent me here but G-d.’” (Bereishis 45:8). We must remember that even though times are very difficult, this is the will of G-d.
At the end of Sefer Bereshis, Joseph says to his brothers, “You had evil schemes in my regard, but G-d turned things for the good” (50:20). Even if the will of G-d is hard, we must accept it and go on. It is a zechus to see the Jewish people at this difficult time – going on, with our heads up. Not defeated but determined to succeed and to sanctify G-d’s name.
This is definitely a magnificent hour.
“Oh G-d, return us to You and we will return. Renew our days as of old.” (Eichah 5:21)
Rivka Livnat (née Blumberg) grew up in Baltimore.
Sidebar
A Disengagement Question
by Raphael Blumberg
My sister Rivka Livnat asked me to deal with a halachic question related to the Disengagement: Why did many great rabbis of the national-religious camp, most prominently Rav Avraham Shapira and Rav Dov Lior, rule that soldiers were forbidden to take part in the expulsion?
Rav Shapira quoted Deuteronomy 7:2, “Lo sechanem – Give them no consideration.” This verse includes prohibitions against giving the nations a foothold in the Land and giving them free gifts (Avodah Zarah 20a). This verse is universally accepted as being one of the 613 commandments. Rambam says that we are even forbidden to sell non-Jews houses or fields in Eretz Yisrael, let alone give them for free. (Hilchos Avodah Zarah 10:3)
Rav Shapira reasoned that unilaterally giving Gush Katif to the Arabs was a violation of Torah law, and that it was thus forbidden for a soldier to take part. There is no rabbi in Israel (among those who permit or encourage boys to go to the army to begin with) who would say that if a soldier received orders to eat pork he should eat it, and Rav Shapira ruled that the present case is no different.
My sister in her article makes several references to the tragedy of Joseph’s sale by his own brothers. My brother-in-law, Rabbi Noam Livnat, pointed out one difference between the two tragedies, however: In the case of Joseph, at least his brothers were paid something for the sale. Here, over a year since the Disengagement surfaced, I have not yet heard one tangible benefit that is supposed to derive from it.
Two nights ago, a Torah scholar and long-time educator, Rabbi Shalom Horowitz, revealed to me something that had been announced in the press recently: This September, for the first time in the Jewish State’s history, 51 percent of its Jewish first graders will be receiving a religious education.
Let us learn from Joseph’s faith and optimism.
