The Weirdest Independence Day Ever

 

Ever since its foundation in 1948 Israel has celebrated its Independence Day with general festivities in which anyone and everyone can participate. After I came to live in Israel, about sixty years ago, Independence Day has always been a very special day for me. In my first few years on the country I would hang out with other students, and we would roam downtown Jerusalem, join in street dancing, enjoy the ambience, bang squeaky plastic hammers on one another’s heads, and eat falafel.

After I got married and had children life became more sedate, but we always invited friends and relatives to join us on Independence Day, and would have a modest picnic together in our garden, play games and generally enjoy the atmosphere. Of course, roaming around at night was no longer an option, but it became an annual ritual to watch the ceremony on Mount Herzl on television, and be suitably impressed by the performances, formation marching, dancing, and symbolic beacon-lighting ceremony.

In the last few years, with no more children at home to be attended to, our traditional Independence Day celebration, though still sedate, involves sharing the by-now-traditional BBQ with a few old (in both senses of the word) friends, sitting either outside or inside to eat. Everyone contributes something to the meal, and Yigal and one or two other husbands attend to the barbecuing of the meat (we sometimes have one large and two smaller barbecues going simultaneously).

This year, however, no friends were allowed because of the strict qarantine imposed due to the Coronavirus pandemic. Although we were invited by our kind next-door neighbours, who came to our barbecue last year, we thought it safer to stay in our own garden, and socialize with them over the fence (or rather through the hedge) that separates our two gardens (shades of the legend of Pyramus and Thisbe, as performed by the – unintentionally – comic actors known as the mechanicals in the Bard’s ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’).

So, the ceremony from Mount Herzl was limited this year, and pre-recorded, to boot. To make matters worse, we were deprived of the usual firework display, which we can see from the window of one of our upstairs rooms. That’s a shame, as I love a good firework display. But we were compensated by the Air Force display, which this year saluted the country’s medical personnel and flew over all Israel’s hospitals, including the Hadassah Hospital in Ein Karem, which we can see clearly from another window upstairs.

There were only four rather small planes, and we could clearly see them doing a couple of aerobatic turns over the hospital, but the show was over in a matter of seconds. In addition, the weather was a bit too cool to enable us to sit comfortably outside to eat. We braved the elements nonetheless, only to find that the thumping noise we could hear in the distance was gradually coming closer. This turned out to be an open truck bearing a powerful amplifying system which was playing loud music with one or two individuals standing on the trailer shouting ‘Chag Sameach!’ To our astonishment, we could see that this apparition was escorted by a police vehicle. Yes, the accepted wisdom in Israel today is that the greater the decibels the greater the happiness. I personally find the music that is popular in Israel today vastly inferior to the songs we once sang, and the general tone sounds to me like one long whine, but that’s just my own little whinge.

Of course, I would have preferred a string quartet, or even a symphony orchestra on the back of the truck, but that’s going too far, I suppose. Fortunately the vehicle kept moving, and eventually the cacophany emanating from it died away, and peace was restored once more to our little corner of the world. Finally we could have our dessert and coffee in blessed peace before repairing indoors to spend the rest of the day celebrating in the splendid isolation to which we have had to become accustomed.

 

The End is Nigh

 

Hallelujah! We Have a Government. Finally at last! And it’s unique in being one that nobody wanted and no one voted for. All over Israel yesterday people who were watching the nightly news programs on TV were astonished to find that an agreement had actually been signed, wondering why it took so long to achieve, and trying to weigh up who are the winners and who are the losers.

This new entity is an unwieldy assortment of career politicians and untried newbys, and may well be destined for early disaster or dissolution. Or so the experts who sound off each night on the various news programs or express their views in the printed press or social media would have us believe.

But they all seem to overlook – whether deliberately or not – two basic facts. First, it saves us, at least for now, from having to face yet another general election after the three previous ones, each of which left the country divided, not to mention all the uncertainty, expense and opprobrium that an election involves. And second, we are in the throes of a major health and economic crisis caused by the Coronavirus, and this unique situation requires a reasonably stable government at our helm. It is for the sake of providing some kind of unity and saving the country from yet another election that Benny Ganz justifies his abandonment of all his previously vaunted views about policy, and about Bibi Netanyahu in particular.

Looking around at the rest of the world, we see that many governments haven’t been particularly successful or adept at dealing with the pandemic which is basically a universal phenomenon. Some governments acted more promptly than others in imposing a lockdown of one kind or another, and their infection, death and hospitalization statistics reflect this. Israel is in a fairly good position in this respect, partly because the Prime Minister managed to act in an autocratic way and although he may be dishonest (which politician isn’t?), he’s certainly no cretin, and he based his actions on sound scientific evidence and advice.

So now Israel is having to come to terms with a new situation, one which takes us to the unfamiliar territory of having a huge government (over thirty ministers) from all different kinds of political parties, with conflicting policies and agendas, and the prospect of a changeover of leadership in another eighteen months. Many pundits have predicted that the moment of handing over will never actually arrive, despite Netanyahu’s televised promise that it will happen ‘without any tricks or schticks,’ to use his own picturesque phrase. When it comes to rhetorical ability, Netanyahu is unbeatable (no Yahoo he, to steal Jonathan Swift’s term).

Now we wait with less-than bated breath to see what happens next. Will Netanyahu manage to steer the ship of State safely to the harbour of an easing of lockdown restrictions so that the country can return to some semblance of normality, or will his opponents both within his own party and those from the rival factions manage to put a spoke in the wheels of government? Will we find ourselves confronted by perpetual infighting or – wonder of wonders – harmony and unity emanating from the curious assortment of individuals who now comprise the government of Israel?

The old Chinese curse, ‘May you live in interesting times,’ has certainly come home to roost in Israel.

Where Are We?

 

I think I’ve lost track of time. What day of the week is it? Does it matter? What difference does it make anyway? All the days are the same in this time of isolation, or single confincement, if you prefer (actually, double in my case as my husband is with me).

I’ve not consulted my diary for several weeks. When I opened it just now (only to check if I’ve missed anyone’s birthday, as I certainly can’t remember them) I see all the events I’ve missed – concerts of the Philharmonic and the Jerusalem Symphony, meetings of groups to which I belong, and, most sad of all, a childrren’s concert (Carnival of the Animals) to which I was supposed to take my four-year-old granddaughter. I presume that one day, when all this is over, we will be reimbursed or compensated in some way for all the things we have had to miss due to no fault of our own, but for the moment there’s no hope of getting to see or hear any of these attractive events in the near future.

The fact that I’ve also had to miss non-urgent dentist appointments causes me no grief at all, surprisingly enough, though I hope my teeth will not take revenge on me and start playing up for not having been attended to as planned (of course I continue to brush them assiduously day and night). In addition, our weekly encounters with children and grandchildren at our Friday night meal have been replaced by Zoom sessions, which are all well and good but hardly an adequate substitute. We are fortunate in having some grandchildren living nearby, so that one or another of them drops by from time to time to sit in the garden with us (of course, wearing masks and keeping a safe distance) for a little chat.

I haven’t left the house for well over a month, and am starting to think that I may never leave it again. Luckily, we have plenty of room, as well as a small garden, so that the near-solitary life is not as much of a hardship for us as it must be for families with many children (or even one) in small apartments on the sixth floor of an apartment block.

Counting one’s blessings is one of the occupations that I try to busy myself with, as well as cooking, doing some minimal cleaning, and busying myself at my computer. Luckily, both hubby and I each have a study and a computer, so that we are free to get on with our various projects. In his case it’s preparing another article for his website on Caravaggio, and in my case it’s getting my latest novel, ‘Friends, Neighbors, Traitors,’ ready for publication on Amazon, first as an ebook and eventually also – hopefully – as a paperback. We’re both in the final stages of our respective projects, and will have to try and take a breather upon completing them before going on to the next (luckily, there’s always another one forming on the edges of our minds).

Meanwhile, the politicians continue with their manipulations and skullduggery, casting a dark shadow over everything and everyone. And so, despite the best efforts of the population at large to keep to the official restrictions about staying away from friends and families, those same politicians blatantly disregard them when it comes to their own families, probably laughing up their sleeves while doing so. As for their pleas to opposition parties to unite with them in order to serve the common cause, these have been proved time and again to be empty, hypocritical and self-serving.

We all know that politicians are no angels, but surely Israel deserves a better leadership than these narcissistic phonies.

 

‘Musulmane mais libre’ by Irshad Manji

 

Only after I started reading this book, which was lent to me by a friend, did I discover that it had been originally written in English and what I was reading – as part of my efforts to improve my French – was its translation into French. But I persevered with the translated version, and feel a sense of achievement at having finally finished reading this well-constructed set of opinions and ideas about the Muslim religion. The title of the original English version was ‘The Trouble With Islam.’

The author was born into a Muslim family living in Canada, so therefore she grew up in a modern, pluralistic and capitalist society while being educated in the tradition of the Muslim religion. In the first part of her book she identifies herself as a lesbian, a journalist and a feminist with an enquirinig mind and openness to interaction with other cultures. She has studied the Koran and the various Muslim texts extensively, and has come to the conclusion that the way the religion is pursued in most Muslim countries today is in fact a travesty and a distortion of its original principles.

Irshad Manji has a great deal to say about the way Muslims treat women and minorities in their midst. She regards the fact that women are regarded as inferior and legally defined as minors in many Arab countries as a distortion of the teachings of Mohammed. She points to the inherent injustice of depriving women and minorities of equal rights, of basic human rights, although she claims that Mohammed taught otherwise. Her contention is that the mediaeval clergy highjacked the religion and twisted its teachings. Her study of the texts and of history has shown her that in its golden age Islam was the agent that stimulated and disseminated learning and interfaith cooperation. She goes even further by claiming that the ideas of Islam led to the Renaissance in Europe, since cooperation between Muslims, Christians and Jews gave rise to the translation and propagation of ancient Greek texts and subsequent intellectual and cultural interaction.

In her quest for understanding, Manji visited Israel and toured various holy sites. She points out that she was given unhindered access to most places, but that when she tried to visit the Al Aksa mosque she was stopped and obliged to conform to various religious demands as regards her clothing and demeanour. She noted that Israeli journalists are able to criticize their government openly, without fear of punishment, whereas that is far from being the case in the countries ruled in accordance with the precepts of Islam. She develops the theory that the traditions of the desert tribes who were among the first adherents to Islam has come to dominate the religion and that the habits and customs of ‘Islam of the desert’ have been inflexible and resistant to adapting to the changing world. Thus, the customs and attitudes of the desert tribes have taken over the religion that was once more tolerant and open to others. She derides Islamic countries like Pakistan and several Middle Eastern where poverty and ignorance prevail, and elementary human rights are not respected.

On the basis of her reading of the Koran and other ancient Muslim texts Manji has developed a theory for reviving the tradition of Ijtihad, the more open and accepting approach which, she asserts, once existed within Islam. Manji claims that this tradition was crushed by the mediaeval clergy, forcing the religion into a fossilized form that was intolerant of others and suspicious of any new idea. She goes further, maintaining that it is within the power of that approach to rejuvenate the Muslim religion and being it into line with developments in the modern world. She also points to the anomaly by which Muslims living in western societies are able to practice their religion openly and are not subject to prejudice, while Jews and Christians – and even Muslims belonging to different streams of the religion – are not tolerated in most Muslim societies. She points to Indonesia and Malaysia as examples of Muslim countries which do tolerate minorities, and puts this down to the fact that their form of Islam is not based so closely on the ‘Islam of the desert.’

Her book is written in the form of an open letter to Muslims everywhere, and she concludes by calling on all Muslims to join her in adhering to a more open and tolerant version of Islam. Whether she will be acclaimed or condemned for this is an open question, but I personally have not seen any indication of a seismic shift in countries under Muslim rule.

What are your Plans?

 

In my youth, that was the question that a beloved uncle would always ask the younger members of the family. The only problem was that his heavy German accent would make us laugh, quite apart from the fact that, frivolous young people that we were, we were not in the habit of making plans about our future. We were at school and were simply continuing along the path that had been laid out for us by society, never really thinking about the future.

Today that’s one question that is well-nigh impossible to answer. In the current situation of uncertainty it’s virtually out of the question to make any plans for either the near or the distant future. It’s a terrible blow for adults accustomed to being in charge of their lives, as well as for anyone wondering where to spend their next vacation, what to study at university, or which profession to pursue.

The coronavirus pandemic has brought a devastating combination of turmoil and uncertainty to many lives. There can be very few people on the planet who are untouched by some aspect of it, even if by some lucky chance they are still able to earn a living, although this is not the case for most people since almost all economic activity has come to a stop. Older people like myself, especially those with underlying illnesses, began to avoid going outside even earlier. I, for example, haven’t left my house for a month other than to potter about a bit in my garden.

The change in lifestyle hasn’t been so radical for those of us who are in retirement, even a relatively active one. Attending classes and lectures is something that used to break the routine, since we no longer had a place of work to go to, but it was not a hard-and-fast duty, more of a social and intellectual diversion. The same goes for attending concerts, plays, or other cultural events. I personally miss the occasional thrill of putting on nice clothes and going out to attend a performance of some kind, but one soon learns to live without it. There are plenty of musical and dramatic performance on TV and the internet, as well as the constant musical background provided by the radio, so that we are not totally deprived of intellectual stimulation and the music we love. It goes without saying that the digital world is full of a wide range of entertainment and educational content. It also enables us to remain in contact with friends and family.

But the question remains – what lies ahead? How long will we remain cooped up in our houses (some of us less ‘cooped’ than others)? And what will the world look like when all ‘this’ is finally over? I don’t share the view of some people, namely, that things will go back to being just as they were before. In fact, that’s hardly likely to happen given the economic upheaval that most countries – Israel included – have undergone, and the heavy financial burden that governments and individuals are having to bear.

For a start, I’m convinced that the period of lockdown will lead to the breakdown of many marriages and relationships, that many people’s mental stability will be undermined, and that many features of the social fabric that bound our society beforehand will wither and die. People will have become more accustomed to the solitary life and feel less need of social interaction.

I imagine that the double whammy of the prolonged enforced closure of cafés and restaurants and financial hardship on all sides will prevent many such enterprises from opening their doors again. Not all those people who have lost their jobs will find employment again, and the general level of prosperity in society will be far lower than it has been in the recent past, leading to a lower standard of living for everyone.

Maybe, if we’re lucky, people will be kinder and gentler towards one another once the crisis is over. However, if human nature is anything to go by, the dog-eats-dog attitude will rise to the surface, competition for assets, jobs, even food, will be fierce and any return to the normality we once knew will be a long way down the road.

As for plans, it’s best to remind ourselves of the old adage ‘man proposes and God disposes.’ Whatever plans we had have probably gone awry (I know mine have), and there’s little point in wasting time and energy thinking about the future.

But we humans are social beings and our minds are adaptable. We will get used to the ‘new normal’ that lies ahead, and perhaps the best thing to do now is to prepare ourselves mentally and physically to confront a different world from the one we have known till now.