In most other countries, one hardly ever sees a soldier carrying a rifle or even a handgun in public. In Israel, it is the norm—we are armed and dangerous. It is the norm to serve in the military and become proficient in handling weapons. Most towns have a shooting range. People come to practice, to renew their licenses, for sport shooting competitions, or just to let off some steam.
Guns are everywhere, not only M-16 rifles, but various grenade-launching rifles and other high-caliber weapons. Uzis, Tavor, the Galil, and other short rifles are carried by soldiers and security guards.
Women also carry guns. On Saturday night, you can walk around town and see teenage girls in civilian clothing, lots of makeup, beautiful hair, and M-16 rifles slung over their shoulders; they are soldiers home for the weekend.
Many civilians carry handguns as well. You do not need special circumstances to qualify for a permit. Living, working, or traveling in a dangerous area (almost any part of the country) qualifies you. One often hears casual talk comparing the qualities of a Glock to a Jericho, or an FN to a CZ. People know their guns and their ammo.
We have a well-armed, well-trained population, ready to respond to any suspicious sound. A bus blew a tire in Jerusalem. Before anyone knew for sure what caused the loud sound, several people had drawn their weapons and began to search for escaping terrorists. Ambulances were on the way when word was passed that it was simply a blown tire.
On Purim, the Israeli dress-up holiday (like Halloween), the police warn kids not to use toy guns that look or sound like real guns; the consequences could be tragic. Sadly, two young men dressed as Arabs were stopped on their way to a costume party. They ignored police officers who told them to stop, and were shot in the legs. When questioned in the hospital about their behavior, they explained; “We thought they were dressed up as cops and were on their way to the same costume party as we were. We thought they were kidding around.”
Guns are so common that they do not arouse suspicion. As a former bank employee, I went to visit my old co-workers. They greeted me warmly and invited me to join them for a cup of coffee at their desks behind the counter. An American tourist pointed out what seemed odd to him. “Only in Israel can a man armed with a handgun walk into a bank, go behind the teller’s desk where cash is being counted and arouse no suspicion whatsoever.”
Once, when making a quick stop at our local mall, I left my handgun at home. The guard stopped me, as is usual practice, waved his metal detector around me, and asked if I had a weapon. “Nope, I left it at home today.”
His reaction surprised me. “What’s the matter with you?! You should never leave home without it.”
When I would visit my parents, my mother would ask before I left, “Do you have your wallet? Your keys? Your gun?” Guns are so common and so frequently seen at restaurants and cafés that sometimes we have to remind ourselves just how deadly they are. Israel has far more guns per capita than other countries. Many civilians carry handguns, while soldiers and security personnel often have fully automatic weapons. Yet the crime rate involving firearms is minuscule compared to the United States. Why?
As one gun owner said, “We are all soldiers; we know what guns can do, and we have seen the damage firsthand. We don’t learn about guns from video games—we learn in the army, where we also learn safety precautions.”
The saying “Guns don’t kill, people do.” is true, and our nation of warriors carry their guns with caution and responsibility in order to defend themselves and others, just as the American founding fathers envisioned more than two hundred years ago.
The United States has suffered tragically from rampage shooting incidents at schools, malls, and places of worship. A deranged killer gets a firearm and keeps shooting—killing people until he runs out of ammo. Statistics show that the average arrival time for SWAT teams is fifty minutes. By then, the damage is done. The problem is there is simply no way to have SWAT teams everywhere, all the time. Americans need to learn some basic gun disarm techniques, as they are taught in Israel. If a trained practitioner can at least get within arm’s reach of an assailant, he might be able to talk and distract the person long enough to do a gun disarm technique.
In Israel, the situation is different. Incidents usually end much sooner as some off-duty policeman, soldier, reserve soldier, or ordinary armed citizen becomes the first responder and takes out the shooter. In nearly every instance in recent history, it was such a response that ended the incident. Several cases come to mind.
A terrorist opens fire in downtown Jerusalem. Two off-duty border policemen chase him down, engage him in a shootout, and kill him—no casualties.
Two knife-wielding terrorists break into a school and attack students. The students fight back, two dorm counselors come in and shoot the terrorists dead—no casualties. When I say “no casualties,” I mean no casualties of ours; there are no innocent victims. Perhaps this is not “politically correct,” but I do not count the terrorists among the casualties; they brought their death upon themselves.
In a tragic incident, an armed terrorist sneaks into a major Jerusalem yeshiva. Opening with automatic fire, he kills seven. He is chased and shot by a student armed with a handgun, and an off-duty soldier who chases him to a roof and guns him down. The quick response prevented the incident from being even more tragic.
On two occasions, Arabs grab hold of a tractor and start rampaging through the streets of Jerusalem. In both cases, civilians using private handguns ended the incidents long before the official police teams arrived on the scene.
November 18, 2014 – as men were praying at the Kehilat Bnei Torah synagogue in Jerusalem, two armed Arabs ran into the synagogue. The worshippers were caught off guard during their silent devotion. Nonetheless, they fought back as best as they could, trying to physically grab the terrorists, hit them over the head with furniture or whatever they could find.
Two traffic policemen heard the shooting. They did not hesitate, they ran in with guns drawn and opened fire on the terrorists. Later, I was able to confirm that these brave men responded exactly as they should, on par with an elite counterterrorist team, even though they were “only” traffic cops.
One of the police officers, an Israeli Druze named Zidan Saif, died a hero’s death as he took a bullet to the head. For his funeral, an entire busload of Orthodox Jews came to honor him, traveling to his village and final resting place in the north of Israel. Four members of the synagogue, all rabbis, were killed that day, and seven were wounded. One of the wounded is still in a coma. Had it not been for the quick response of the traffic policemen, it could have been much worse. The attack, ironically, brought greater Jewish-Arab/Muslim unity and the congregation continues to employ Arab workers.
The American Civil War produced songs that are still sung today, as did World War Two. They have become part of American culture and history. In that respect, Israel is no different. For much of its history, the Israeli army has had bands and military musicians whose compulsory service was spent performing songs for soldiers.
Musicians also serve in the reserves and do their service by traveling around the country performing at military bases. The nation’s top performers consider it a badge of honor to perform for free wherever soldiers are serving, no matter how few. Sometimes it is only a singer accompanied by a guitar, standing on top of a tank in the middle of the desert, performing for hundreds of battle weary soldiers. One group recalled arriving at a bunker where only five soldiers were stationed. Not only did the show go on, but they let the audience choose the numbers to be performed.
It is said that when the cannons are roaring, the songs stop. In Israel, it is just the opposite. Each war has given birth to songs that have become anthems, songs that are sung at times of national celebration or mourning. The songs have become part of the national culture, almost like religious prayers. The songs reflect the spirit of the nation; the hope for a better, more peaceful time, “All this will come to pass today, and if not today then tomorrow, and if not tomorrow, then the day after tomorrow” (“Machar” – “Tomorrow”) (accessed June 30, 2015). Songs echo the biblical hope that warriors will return to be farmers, that the land shall witness war no more, and that the young people will grow to be old.
There are songs that reflect the sacrifice of the military medic, as in “Baladah Lachovesh” (“Ballad for the Medic”) (accessed June 30, 2015) where a medic hears the cry of a wounded soldier and runs into enemy fire to save him. As he drags him to safety, he keeps reassuring the wounded soldier, “You are going to make it.” By the end of the song, the soldier is thanking the medic, but the medic is not answering—he has been shot dead, one man giving his life for another, sacrifice without limits.
Another song that stands out is “Al Shlosha Pishei Damesek” (“Three Crimes of Damascus”) dedicated to the soldiers of the Golani infantry unit. “You shall not pass; you shall not pass because here Golani is fighting” (accessed June 30, 2015).
These military songs have become part of the fabric of the culture of this nation and are known by all. The bravery of the soldiers inspires the songwriters and the songs inspire the soldiers. During one of the wars, a top commander called a friend of his, a well-known songwriter, and said, “Do your share, get out your guitar and write us a song, the boys at the front need you.”
When the soldiers go out to war, they are accompanied by the songs and prayers of the nation. The songs continue even after the last bullet of the battle has been fired. Israeli air force navigator, Ron Arad, has been MIA since 1986 when he was taken captive after his plane went down in enemy territory. Singer/songwriter, Boaz Sharabi, wrote a song for him, “K’shetavo” (“When You Will Come”) (accessed June 30, 2015). “When you come home we will present you with flowers, when you come home, home from the cold, home into the light, we will sing for you with joy. For freedom you were born.” Ron Arad is still in captivity, but he is not forgotten here in Israel. A missing soldier is a missing family member. We all pray for his safe return.
Israel is a nation that has experienced much war, but yearns for peace. Military songs are about heroism and hope, not about glorifying combat. Side by side with “war songs” are songs hoping for peace. Songs like “Shir LaShalom” (“Song of Peace”) (accessed June 30, 2015) and “Noladeti laShalom” (“I Was Born for Peace”) (accessed June 30, 2015) are among the most popular in Israel. “HaMilchama Ha’Achrona” (“The Last War”) (accessed June 30, 2015) is a prayer that this war will be the last war. The song was written for the 1973 Yom Kippur War, which, clearly, was not the last.
So many of those killed are young idealist men, just finding their way in life. In many cases, after their untimely deaths, songs and poems are found among their personal possessions. Israel started a project to bring these poems by deceased soldiers to life. The songs are matched up with composers and the words are set to music.
This has led to a new tradition. Each year on Memorial Day for Fallen Soldiers, the national radio station sponsors a program called “Od Me’at Nahafokh le-Shir” (“Soon We Will Become a Song”). The program features songs written by fallen soldiers and turned into music by Israeli artists. Hearing these songs sung brings part of the personality of the fallen warriors back to life. They may be gone, but their song remains. The parents of the soldiers meet with the composers and the musicians in what is always a very moving encounter.
Yaakov Paz, killed in 1978 while attempting to stop a deadly terrorist attack, left this powerful song, “Shir Shel Rega Echad” (“Song of One Moment”) (accessed June 30, 2015). “I wrote you a letter, in which I said don’t wait for me, because you will be alone. You can wait for me, but then you will be alone.”
“Parallel lines go together; they think they will arrive together, to the end, but suddenly, a second before the end, one of them ends. The others continue, and they look for their parallel, and they think they will arrive together, to the end.” (“Kavim Makbilim Meitim” – “Dead Parallel Lines”) (accessed June 30, 2015). These words were written by Shimon Ben Dror, who was killed on the first day of combat during the 1973 Yom Kippur War. He was twenty years old. His family did not know he was killed until after the war was over. His body was never found. Apparently, his tank was hit by a Sager rocket; neither his body nor the tank was ever recovered.
Legendary Israeli composer, Danny Robas, who also lost a brother, loved the text and decided to put it to music. No one had known that Shimon was a writer. When he died, his girlfriend shared his writings with the family. Now he lives through his song.
Learning a foreign language is one thing; Understanding the slang is quite another. A great deal can be learned about a society by reading their advertisements and bumper stickers. A New Year’s greeting card from my local garage mechanic read, “May this be a year where the only tank you have to deal with is your gas tank, where a ‘Top Gun’ refers to your ace mechanic and not the point man on your squad, where ‘automatic’ refers to your gears and not enemy fire, where ‘belt’ refers to your seat belt and not your bullet belt, where ‘campaign’ and ‘struggle’ refer to our efforts to provide you with the best possible service and not to military campaigns. May it be a year of peace and quiet.”
This is a New Year’s greeting to a clientele where nearly everyone is a warrior, where indeed words like tank and automatic bring to mind the tank you drove recently in Lebanon and the automatic fire your unit drew from Hizbullah terrorists. Military lingo is everywhere and if you are a non-combatant you will probably understand it anyway, since it is part of the culture, part of the language.
In the United States you might see bumper stickers that read “Born to Shop” or “Shop Till You Drop” or “Hit me, I need the money.” This is a reflection of the culture and people understand the references. This is true in Israel as well. You will see bumper stickers proudly displayed: “Once a paratrooper always a paratrooper,” “Duchifat; the fighting family,” “Combat unit is the best, my brother,” “Proud Reservist,” “Golani, brothers forever,” and “Follow me, to the paratroopers.”
Unit rivalries and loyalties continue long after compulsory service is over. Old soldiers never get discharged—in their minds they are members of their units forever. Often you will see men in their fifties show up at ceremonies to meet the current soldiers in their units. They view them as relatives and tell them stories about how Golani stormed the Syrian troops in ’67 or ’73. The old paratroopers will recount the stories of liberating Jerusalem back in the Six Day War of 1967 and tell the new, young recruits that they must carry on the proud legacy of the unit.
Sadly, not only the heroic memories remain, but trauma as well. A quiet, but significant, segment of the population still wakes up in the middle of the night trying to rescue a friend caught in enemy fire or pull a buddy from a burning tank. Marriages fall apart and families are destroyed. This too is part of the legacy of a nation at war for survival.
During a time of war, every unexpected phone call makes you jump; it could be “that” phone call—telling you to come to the hospital to see your loved one, or worse. When you pick up the phone and hear the calming voice of your son or nephew, you can breathe easy; for a moment, you know they are alive and well.
My nephew, Arie, called his parents with a special request; to drive several hours and attend the funeral of his commanding officer, just killed in combat. I spoke to Ari and asked him, “How are you coping with death all around you?”
“There is no time to think about that now, no time to dwell on it, I guess I will deal with it later,” he answered. A warrior buries his dead and carries on. In battle, there is no time to mourn. Just as the nation of Israel was born in a struggle four thousand years ago, so was the modern State of Israel born in blood and fire. As soon as it was declared, it was attacked.
While the nation danced in the streets, “The Old Man” was pensive. The first Israeli Prime Minister, David Ben-Gurion, knew that the dancing would be followed by killing; surely the surrounding Arab nations would not take this sitting down; it was just a matter of time until the fighting began.
In the war that followed, fully one percent of the population of Israel died in battle. Many of those who would be burying friends and relatives had already lost most of their loved ones in the recent European Holocaust. But mourning was a luxury the nation could not afford, and the unwritten and unspoken motto became “No time to mourn, we have a state to build, bury your dead and carry on.” Only in recent years would the nation realize that this trauma must be dealt with. Now, the army has begun to provide professional help for traumatized victims who cannot escape their pasts.
There are countless warriors who still cannot be sure if they will sleep through the night. Often, they will wake up believing their injured comrades are calling them from a still-burning tank, begging to be rescued. Thirty years may have passed, but the tank is still burning like the eternal light in the Temple of old. The voices do not die down; the anguish and the pain continue. The outstretched hand and crying voice are still there. The dreaming soldier reaches out to save his friend, only to wake up in a pool of his own sweat.
A war hero in my town was finally able to contact family members of a fallen comrade who died next to him in combat back in 1973. For over forty years, he simply was not able to cope with what had happened when his group of six soldiers in the Sinai Peninsula was attacked by an Egyptian unit.
Sometimes news and videos of new wars or terrorist attacks will trigger a bad memory. Amnon fought as a regular soldier in the Yom Kippur War and belonged to a unit that crossed the Suez Canal. He was exposed to constant attacks by Egyptian warplanes and shelling, he saw many IDF casualties. In 2004, he was watching the news and saw reports about the terrorist bombing of a hotel in Taba, in the Sinai desert. He suddenly suffered difficulties breathing, saw flashbacks of his war experiences, and burst out crying.
Thirty years after the Yom Kippur War of 1973, the nation finally began to deal with the shell shock of countless soldiers who served in one of the greatest tank battles in history. There are many who cannot get through a day without medication, many who can only hold down the most menial of jobs because since the war they cannot really function. For many, the war never ended. These emotional handicaps are part of everyday life in Israel; the guy who pushed ahead of you in line at the bank may be suffering from nervousness and anxiety that began when his armored personnel carrier was hit by an antitank missile. Israelis can be a bit gruff; we need to understand where they are coming from. Do not yell at them, just offer a smile, they have been through enough already. The trauma is part of everyday living. It is part of society and part of the culture.
I remember our friendly school bus driver from my childhood years. He had a special van designed to accommodate his lack of ability to use his legs. He was paralyzed during the Six Day War of 1967 and was wheelchair-bound. Yet, he was cheerful and always kind to us kids. He seemed to enjoy having us with him for the ride. Sometimes he would show us war trophies; a captured Jordanian flag, or a medal of honor.
One day—a day I will never forget, this kind man had a special treat for us boys—he brought us to his club. It was a beautiful sports facility; with basketball courts, swimming pool, weight room, and balls of all types. It had special bikes, ping-pong tables, ropes and ladders for climbing; a dream place. At first I did not notice what was different, special, about this place, but soon I noticed. There were all sorts of contraptions for handicapped people, such as a way for wheelchair-bound people to get into the pool. There were devices to help the guys use the weights and ropes.
I looked all around and I saw them: men without legs, some missing arms or a hand, some blind, young men in wheelchairs or on crutches, some burned or disfigured, all laughing, having fun. I watched our driver play a very competitive, but friendly, game of basketball. All the men were in wheelchairs, they were passing, shooting, scoring, even smashing into each other. They were having fun and feeling normal.
This was their “home,” Bet HaLochem (Home of the Warrior). All these men were warriors, combat soldiers who gave a leg or an arm for the safety of this nation. Many had artificial limbs. Here they were comfortable; they did not feel like freaks, missing a limb or an eye was normal. They did not need to cover their scars or hide their fake limbs under long sleeves or long pants; here it was OK, here they were like everybody else.
These men are still warriors; they wear their injuries with pride and they still identify with their units. “On a recent morning the soldiers were easy to spot: young men in T-shirts with military logos, propelling themselves in wheelchairs or striding purposefully on prosthetic legs” (Jerusalem Post, August 19, 2007).
In the 2008 Paralympics, Israel sent many athletes, former soldiers, to participate in the games in Beijing. One of those athletes was a former combat soldier named Shai Haim. He was injured in September 2002 while searching for terrorists. He was shot in the back by a sniper and became paralyzed for life. His best friend, Ari Weiss, my cousin, ran over to help. Weiss was shot through the lungs and died later from his wounds. Shai could not attend Ari’s funeral as he was undergoing surgery at the time—he lost one kidney and his spleen. Later on Shai would marry, father a child and compete in the Paralympics.
Israelis love to follow the Olympics on TV. However, truth be told, we rarely come home with many medals. This is not surprising considering the size of our population and the fact that we cannot afford to “sponsor” full-time athletes. There is one exception, the Special Olympics (the Olympics for handicapped/other-abled individuals). In this category, Israel excels. The reason is simple; Israel’s team includes many combat soldiers injured in battle. Despite their permanent injuries, their spirit is strong and they are successful in international competitions.
Our war veterans are honored and fully accepted in our society. In another country, when seeing a handicapped person, you might think “car accident.” In Israel, you think “war hero.” As you see him struggling up the stairs using a cane, you imagine to yourself that at one point this was a young combat commander leading his troops up the Golan Heights against the Syrians. Most likely, an enemy bullet caused the life of challenge he now leads.
Wheelchair ramps and handicap parking are common. People scarred by war, emotionally or physically, are understood and accepted. Israel, as a nation of wounded warriors, is a leader in the manufacture and design of artificial limbs, and a leader in the campaign for handicap rights.
Israel’s extensive experience with terrorism and war makes this small nation an international leader in several unique fields.
Trauma Treatment
Israel probably has more victims of terror per capita than any nation on the planet; as such Israel has great experience and expertise in dealing with traumatized victims. Today, trauma centers all over the world, including the United States, use the Israeli model for treating victims of terror.
Search and Rescue
Israeli search and rescue teams are on the plane within minutes of earthquakes or terrorist explosions anywhere from Turkey to China. Israel’s expertise in search and rescue has helped save lives of many—regardless of nationality or faith.
Artificial Limbs
With so many people injured by terrorism and war, Israel has become an international leader in the manufacture of artificial limbs.
Security
Israeli security professionals are in demand all over the world—from kindergarten patrols to hi-tech companies, and as advisers to police units and SWAT teams.
Emergency Response to Attacks
Israel has accumulated a great deal of experience dealing with bombings, shootings, and a wide range of attacks in public areas. Nations from around the world make requests of Israel to come and teach them the Israeli methods. On April 16, 2013, Boston was attacked. Three people were killed and many injured, but it could have been worse. “About two years ago in actual fact we asked the Israelis to come across and they helped us set up our disaster team so that we could respond in this kind of manner,” said Alasdair Conn, Chief of Emergency Services at Massachusetts General Hospital, responding to a question about the preparedness of his staff to handle trauma on this scale” (The Algemeiner, April 16, 2013).
Israel Military Industries (IMI)
From the earliest days of our struggle we have had to be innovators, inventors, and improvisers. Just as the combat fighting systems must constantly evolve, so too must the combat weapons evolve. Today Israel Military Industries is a world-class defense company providing cutting edge products for land, air, and naval forces around the world. Israeli military products are sought after as among the most advanced in the world.
When tragedy strikes, it is said the family of the fallen soldier has now joined the “bereaved family,” the family that includes the brothers and sisters, parents and children of all those killed defending this land. The bereaved family is never forgotten. On Memorial Day, my nephew’s unit divides up and visits the families of its two commanders who fell in the Second Lebanon War. Even years later, old soldiers still make a point to call and visit the families of their comrades in arms, their buddies whom they trained with and fought with. The bereaved family still feels like part of the unit—they know they are not forgotten. These bonds between soldiers and their fallen friends’ families are like an extended family. A warrior does not forget his fellow soldier.
Whenever a terrorist succeeds, there are not only the obvious victims, those who die and make the news, there are those who are injured, and those left behind to grieve forever. These people go on suffering for years to come. The injured might no longer be able to work, might have years of hospital visits, surgery, or physical therapy. None of this makes the news, but the suffering continues on a daily basis. A family’s income might be severely compromised, emotional issues and flashbacks may plague the family for years.
These people are not forgotten in Israel. The government helps them as do many volunteer organizations. Standard practice is that the government wipes out the family’s mortgage. Tutoring is offered for the children. Big Brother programs help children cope with the trauma.
An organization called the One Family Fund is devoted to a single purpose, “rebuilding shattered lives.” They provide emotional, legal, and financial assistance to the families of victims. Before the holidays, they will provide extra money so families can observe and celebrate the holidays properly, they will assist with the expenses of a bar mitzvah celebration, and they will provide friendship and counseling. One of their programs is “Twinning” where Israeli victims of terrorism are “twinned” with American kids—they will write, share experiences, and meet. The victim is helped by his American twin while the American twin gains a valuable perspective on life.
Free legal assistance allows the families to access whatever insurance benefits they are entitled to, as well as handle debt negotiations. More than anything, the help tells the victims, “You are not alone, you are not forgotten; we are all one family.”
At 8:00 pm, on the eve of Memorial Day, a siren sounds across the nation, marking the beginning of Remembrance Day for the Fallen Soldiers and Victims of Terrorism. At 11 am the next day, a two-minute siren will be heard throughout the country. Everyone will stop and stand at attention. Cars will pull over and drivers will step out and stand by the side of the road. The siren will be heard on all TV and radio stations. The entire country will come to a standstill, united in remembering its fallen.
Dalia Itzik, acting president of Israel in 2006, said, “Tonight Israel weeps. We have no words of comfort, but we embrace you, the families, with endless love. Those who fell defending Israel would want us to be united.”
The IDF Chief of General Staff added, “The IDF is a moral army; we are a strong and moral society. The last year (2006) has been difficult for us all. Names were added to those that we have lost; two hundred thirty-three families have joined the list of those who mourn.”
Throughout the day, all the programming on TV, radio, and at school will be devoted to the memory of the fallen, to those who fell so we can be free. We all know someone who went to battle and did not return; we all know someone who went to work or school and fell victim to terrorism; we share the pain.
Graves of warriors, Six Day War 1967
For many, Memorial Day lasts all year long. Many bereaved parents visit the graves of their loved ones on a regular basis, some even daily. The father of Yiftah Shrier, of blessed memory, my nephew’s commander, visits his son’s grave every day. These families, however, are not alone, and they are not forgotten.
My brother, Ethan, called Mr. Shrier and said, “My nephew, Arie Katz, served under your son. I heard that your son was a wonderful commander.”
“Oh, Arie Katz, yes, he is my son!” said Mr. Shrier.
“Hmm, actually he is the son of my brother and sister-in-law,” said my brother, a little confused.
“Since my son’s death, his soldiers have become my sons. They call me every Friday afternoon to wish me a good Sabbath; they invite me to their weddings and to all their family celebrations; a birth, an engagement. We have become one family,” Mr. Shrier explained. Arie visits the Shrier family on Memorial Day and on the day Yiftah was killed.
During this conversation, Mr. Shrier shared another unusual story. The family of one of the soldiers under his son’s command told Mr. Shrier, “Yiftah came to visit me in my home. He asked me many questions about my son. He asked about his childhood, his interests, and his hobbies. Next, he asked to see my son’s room. He leafed through his holy books and looked around the room. Next, he wanted to see my son’s clothing; what did he wear when he was not in uniform? Finally I said, ‘OK, enough is enough, what is going on here?’ Yiftah answered, ‘If I am going to command your son and lead him into battle, if I am going to inspire and motivate him; then I must understand him, I must understand how he thinks. To be a commander I must be an educator.’”
This is the deep caring an Israeli commander feels for those whose lives have been placed in his charge. When the moment of truth came, Yiftah said to his men, “We are about to enter Lebanon, to fight for the safety of the people of Israel. We do not know who will return and who will not. It is my great honor to lead you into battle, and if it is our fate to die, then it will be my honor to lay beside you.”
When I hear his words, I think of the great Shimon Bar Kochba, the last commander of Judea in the year 135 CE. I hear his words echo throughout the generations. The spirit of freedom and the struggle against tyranny has not been lost; it has been passed on across time. Tragically, just like Shimon Bar Kochba, this wonderful young man became yet another sacrifice in our struggle for survival and freedom.
In 2007, I stood on a hill at the graves of fallen soldiers. Some have lain there silently for many years; others arrived more recently. They were surrounded by living soldiers, friends who fought with them side by side, and others who never knew them, but came to pay their respects. Their last moments of life were filled with fire and thunder; they died violent deaths. Now they lay peacefully, surrounded by the trees of Jerusalem and a gentle breeze.
The occasion marked a year since the combat medic, Philip Moscow, fell in the Second Lebanon War. Near his grave were the graves of Noam Meyerson, born in the United States, and Yinon, whose mother worked in our local supermarket. They fell in the hell known as Lebanon, defending our people from terrorists who did not value human life.
Friends and strangers surrounded the graves. A unit of new recruits was sent by the military. They were there to pay respect to those who served before them and to hear their stories of bravery. These were not ordinary soldiers; they did not enlist to get a scholarship or pursue a career; they chose high-risk combat units because they chose to give, to contribute.
High-ranking officers spoke. A police chief spoke of Philip, who volunteered with the local police units as well as with the first aid group. Some of these battle hardened men were so choked with emotion they simply could not speak. The bravery and self-sacrifice of the young is humbling to us all.
As I stood with my brother, we looked at an “empty” plot of land covered with grass. It was pleasant to think that this area was left open so visitors could sit around, but we knew the truth. It was reserved for another generation of fighters, another group of young men and women, who want to live, but know they must serve their people. The reality is that everyone must serve, and space is left…space we hope and pray will forever remain covered with grass.
Philip’s father, Ze’ev, rose to speak and thanked us all for coming. He said, “We thank you all for sharing our pain and for sharing our pride.” Sharing our pride—they came from Russia to Israel so they could live as free Jews, they made the ultimate sacrifice, their only son, and they are proud. They are warriors; they have no complaints, only pride. Their only daughter followed Philip’s example and served in the paratroopers. She stood by his grave in her uniform, a silent testimony to a fallen hero; a family of warriors.
A unique aspect of Israeli society is the attempt to get to know as many of the fallen as possible, to learn about them, to meet them through their life stories. Each year on Memorial Day, Israel’s two television stations run non-stop video stories about the fallen. Each video report takes you through the life of the soldier, from his childhood to his hobbies, his life outside the army, and the last day of his short life. We meet his family, his parents, his brothers and sisters, wife or girlfriend. We meet his friends and his fellow soldiers who served with him. By the end of the video he is no longer a nameless statistic; he is a friend we have come to know—and we now miss. The entire nation mourns together.
Humans are not the only ones mourned on this day. This past year, one episode was devoted to an Israeli dog killed in combat. Israel’s Oketz Canine Unit does very important work in searching for bombs and terrorists, as well as search and rescue operations. A unique bond is formed between the soldier and his dog. Dogs work at checkpoints and participate in combat operations. Sometimes they too become casualties of war.
CHAPTER 9
From Pain to Productivity, From Darkness to Light
Our rabbis say the darkest part of night is just before dawn. In our society, out of the darkest tragedies springs new hope, new acts of kindness and generosity. There are some who cannot overcome their personal pain and their lives become tragic struggles to return to normalcy. Many others, however, take that pain and channel it into something useful to society—as part of the national therapy. They take their grief and produce something meaningful out of it; some means of compensating for what they lost by creating something good.
A certain combat soldier had his leg blown off in the 1973 Yom Kippur War. He became the “Six Million Dollar Man” as countless medical operations rebuilt the shattered soldier. Clearly he would never be able to fight again. Or could he?
He became a fighter of a different sort—the greatest fundraiser in the country. He travels the world, raising money to build the State of Israel and its academic institutions. He is a well-known figure at Israel’s Ben Gurion International Airport due to his constant travel.
Once, on a visit abroad, he was told about a very wealthy Jew, but was warned that the man never contributed anything; it was a waste of time to even try. The soldier-turned-fundraiser is not the quitting type. He never backed away from a challenge in combat and he would not give up now. He called the man and asked to see him; he promised he would never ask the man for a dime. He kept his word. After recounting his experiences in the 1973 war, the fundraiser pulled up his pants and started unscrewing something. Soon, he placed his artificial leg and knee on the table and said, “This is what I have given to my nation, what are you going to give?” The wealthy man quickly took out his checkbook.
Ehud and Nimrod were as close as could be. Nimrod was killed by Hizbullah terrorists in the Second Lebanon War; he was a reservist, twenty-eight years old. “There are really no words to describe how I felt when I heard the news,” said Ehud. “I was completely devastated, broken, crushed. He was my only brother, my closest friend, my second half; my everything.” From his deep and incredible pain, Ehud came up with an idea to help others and help himself. “I took all the pain that welled up inside of me and I told myself that I had to use this pain to do something to make the world a better place. My brother’s death was a message to me.”
Ehud decided to devote himself to the cause of world freedom and tolerance, a big task for one person. Still, he felt, when individuals begin to act, change can come. His love for his brother is the fuel that keeps him going; he feels he must do something to make this world a better place for all people. In losing his only brother he has taken on the entire world as brothers. “Starting this project has given me so much more power to deal with the pain of Nimrod’s loss. The only thing that keeps me going is the belief in a better future. But the torch I carry is a heavy one and I need as much help as I can get to carry it. We are all of us brothers.”
Many charities and self-help organizations were established as a direct result of warriors being killed. Organizations bearing the names of loved ones were established to provide food for the needy, medical supplies, ambulances, assisted living for injured soldiers, and every possible cause under the sun.
Organizations with names like The Kindness of Meir give help to the needy and perpetuate the name of Rabbi Meir Kahane, killed by an Arab terrorist in New York City while addressing a crowd at a hotel. The kindness done in the name of a deceased is a way of taking that pain and using it to make the world a better place. Parks with names like The Garden of Joshua have been built for children to keep alive the name of a son named Joshua, killed in the line of duty. The sign will say, “In memory of Joshua who died so that young children can be free.” When kids play in his park it is as if Joshua is alive and taking care of the children.
Dr. Shmuel Gillis was a senior hematologist at the Hadassah University Medical Center; he was also the father of five children. One day while driving home from work, Arab terrorists shot him dead. A few days later Tzachi Sasson, an electrical engineer and father of two was also shot to death by Arab terrorists, driving home on the same road. The two bereaved wives took action. They set up a station where soldiers can come for a hot cup of coffee and a piece of cake. Today, the place is manned by fourteen volunteers and is open from 7 am to 9 pm serving hot drinks, soup, and snacks to weary soldiers. Local residents donate all the food. More than a dozen residents of this area have been killed in recent years.
Ari Weiss was my second cousin. My late grandfather, Rabbi Isaac Klein, helped get Ari’s grandfather out of Europe. One day while Ari was serving in a combat unit, he was speaking with his mother on the phone. He told her that he and his unit were starving. His mother asked, “How many are you?”
“Thirty-five,” he said.
She hung up the phone and went to the main street of her town. She came across a fast food place her son loved. “I went to the manager of the store and said, ‘My son is in Shechem, he’s stuck in some hellhole with no fridge and he’s hungry.’”
He interrupted my sentence and asked the same question, “How many are there?”
“I told him thirty-five.” He arranged the package.
Susie Weiss did the same thing with the grocery store, getting free drinks for all thirty-five soldiers. Next, she went to the bakery, same story. Then she went to the frozen meat store. Within half an hour she had the most amazing care package for the thirty-five hungry soldiers. As the story spread, more and more food came in, every bit of it donated. The story made the newspapers. There was even a photograph.
Tragically, just two weeks later, Ari Weiss died a hero’s death. He was shot by an Arab sniper while searching for suicide bombers and terrorists’ enclaves. His mother continues to organize food shipments to “her boys” serving our country, in memory of her son, Ari, of blessed memory. Her acts of kindness give her the strength to keep going. Rather than reacting with violence, she responds by bringing more goodness into the world, more kindness, and more light.
Today, there is a synagogue and Torah learning center in Ra’anana, named in his memory, Ohel Ari (the Tent of Ari). I was there to celebrate the brith mila, the ritual circumcision of another cousin’s eight-day-old child. New life of one cousin was being celebrated in the synagogue dedicated to the sacrifice and life of another cousin.
Michael Levin was a typical American Jewish kid. Two of his grandparents were Holocaust survivors. He was named for his grandfather, a survivor of the Auschwitz death camp of the Nazis. “Their stories,” said his mother, “motivated him to leave his family and friends behind in the United States, immigrate to Israel, and enlist in the elite paratroopers brigade” (Jerusalem Post, April 22, 2007).
When the war in Lebanon began, his friends were relieved to know he was back in the United States visiting his family. However, as soon as the war began, he cut his vacation short, returned to Israel, and rejoined his unit. It was something he felt he “had to do.” During the war, Michael, twenty-two, was shot and killed by a Hizbullah sniper in the southern Lebanese village of Ayta al Shaab. Michael Levin died a hero’s death. His unit, Battalion 101, had been clearing a building in Ayta al Shaab when Hizbullah scored a direct hit with an antitank missile. The human toll was horrific—eleven wounded and three killed.
Michael’s comrade, Shanir Turjeman, reported what happened, “I heard on the two-way radio that Michael was wounded, and I remembered the night before, when we’d been talking about girlfriends, family, and life,” Turjeman said. “I’d lost eye contact with him during the heavy sniper fire and the antitank attack, and then during the evacuation I spotted him lying there, badly injured.”
Another comrade, Shlomi Singer, also an Anglo immigrant, risked his own life and carried his dying friend most of the way back into Israel before they were found and picked up by rescue vehicles, but it was too late. “It was very difficult,” Singer said. “We were under heavy fire, and all around us our friends were wounded.”
On Tisha B’Av, the day we mourn the destruction of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem, Levin was laid to rest in Mount Herzl Cemetery. His family—mother, father, sister Alisa and his twin sister Dara—flew in from Pennsylvania. They were joined by a large crowd of people from all over Israel who came to pay tribute to the young hero.
His mother said she was overwhelmed by the “bear hug” she received from the Israeli people. When they came to Israel for the funeral they did not expect even ten people. More than two thousand mourners came to say goodbye to the soldier. Part of the “bear hug” she referred to comes from other mothers of soldiers who were killed in action. Israel as a warrior nation familiar with death takes care of its bereaved. Other mothers call her on a weekly basis, such as the mother of the soldier buried right next to him. She lights a candle for her own son and for Michael, every week.
To memorialize their son, the Levin family started a fund to help lone soldiers, such as Michael. They sponsored a two-day getaway at a Tel Aviv hotel for lone soldiers. His family is keeping his memory alive by continuing to help others. To commemorate the one-year anniversary of Levin’s death, his family hosted a one-day convention to raise awareness of the difficult situation of lone soldiers in the IDF. At the Dan Panorama Hotel in Tel Aviv, three hundred twenty-five lone soldiers gathered to meet each other and to learn about their rights and opportunities upon finishing their service.
Rather than resorting to revenge, suicide bombings, or blowing up buildings, families turn their pain into kindness. That kindness becomes the legacy of the deceased warrior, for after all, a true warrior fights for peace.
Noam and his family immigrated to Israel from the United States. His father works with my brother in the hi-tech industry. Noam completed his obligatory service, and, as is required of all Israelis, became part of the reserves. During the Second Lebanon War, Noam, twenty-three, was called up for reserve duty. He joined a tank squadron unit that merged with a paratroopers force near the village of Bint Jbeil. An antitank missile hit the main tank leading the force, instantly killing Noam and squadron commander, Yotam Lotan, a reservist from a kibbutz.
To help cope with their tragic loss, Noam’s family decided to honor his memory by establishing a living memorial that would reflect his personality. “Noam loved nature. That’s why we chose to build a center for Jewish and environmental studies in the Mitzpe Ramon Educational Center. The new center was named Darchei Noam (from a biblical verse meaning the ways of Noam, or the ways of pleasantness, Noam is Hebrew for pleasant) and aims to teach Judaism through observing nature,” said Noam’s mother, Gila.
Noam’s immediate family members were not the only ones to take the tragedy of his death and channel it into positive deeds. Noam was close friends with his cousin Katie, thirteen, of New York. Her mother, Sandy, is the sister of Noam’s father, Haim. “Katie used to visit Israel once a year and Noam would take her on trips and spend time with her,” a family member said. “They had a very close relationship despite the age difference.” The news of Noam’s death broke Katie’s heart. In her sadness and pain, Katie decided to honor her cousin and the special bond they shared.
“At first, I built a website in his memory,” Katie said. “After that, I decided to build a playground in his name and to locate it in one of the country’s northern cities that had been hurt by Hizbullah’s missiles. I chose Kiryat Shmona for this.” Katie began raising funds for the project. She sold teddy bears and T-shirts on the Internet, bearing the slogan “Make Games Not War.” She also sent emails to her friends, asking them to donate money in Noam’s memory. “He would have been happy,” she said. Even Katie’s bat mitzvah was dedicated to her new initiative, and she asked her relatives for money instead of gifts. The response was rewarding, and soon Katie had raised ten thousand dollars. She also approached the Jewish Agency, which joined in the project and contacted the Kiryat Shmona Municipality, which in turn agreed to build the playground in their town.
Katie and her mother flew to Israel to participate in the playground’s cornerstone ceremony. “Noam was only twenty-three when a Hizbullah missile took away his smile. Had he been alive today, he would have been happy to see us building a playground in a city that has suffered from missile attacks,” Katie said.
Philip was killed in Lebanon, August 2006. I visited the family during the traditional week of mourning, the week of shiva. They could not be comforted. I saw a broken family. I did not know how they would recover.
Philip had taken his maternal late grandfather’s last name, Moscow, as he was the last surviving male member of the family after the destruction of the Holocaust. He wanted to honor his grandfather and keep the family name alive.
Two years after his tragic death, his family and friends came together in a united effort to honor his memory and keep it alive. Despite the huge financial undertaking, this humble family decided to dedicate a sefer Torah, a Torah scroll, to be donated to the synagogue in which Philip prayed. A Torah scroll takes a master scribe about a year to write. It is a huge expense.
For two years the family raised the necessary funds. Finally, on the second anniversary of his death, the Torah scroll was completed in the presence of friends, family, the mayor, and chief rabbi of my town. The dedication of a Torah scroll is a major celebration for a Jewish community. It is similar to a community wedding. The residents of the town dance with the new Torah scroll from the location where the writing is completed, down the streets of the town, to the synagogue that will house the scroll. There rabbis and community leaders will speak and a festive meal will be served. And such it was for Philip.
Friends and family gathered at the modest home of Philip’s family. His sister was given a leave of absence from the army to attend this event. At 6 pm, we gathered for prayer. Then the scribe completed the writing of the scroll. Community members donated money for the honor of writing the final letters, under the watchful eye of the scribe. I had the honor of writing one letter as well.
Moshe writing a letter in the Torah scroll
Some very special guests showed up. Not only the chief rabbi and the mayor were present, but also members of Philip’s unit, the 101 Paratroopers. The commander knew Philip; the others did not as they were too young. This is the tradition in Israel; whenever a memorial service of any kind is held in memory of a soldier, members of that unit are sent to honor their fallen comrade. Even years after a soldier fell in combat, current members of his unit will come and honor him. Sometimes these are soldiers who were not even born when this soldier served. This is the loyalty of the unit. They will always honor one of their own.
The chief rabbi spoke, the mayor spoke. And then, when the scroll was complete, we took it out to the streets. Hundreds of well-wishers danced with the Torah scroll in the streets. Periodically, we would stop and the leader would ask the soldiers to touch the holy scroll and pray for safety and well-being. I looked at those young soldiers and I prayed for them as well. Here they seemed so safe and happy, but if trouble broke out, they would be the ones to face it head on; they would be called back to Lebanon or Gaza.
The soldiers danced with the Torah scroll and they reaffirmed their faith. For at least an hour, we accompanied Philip’s scroll to its new home, all the while singing and dancing and being joyous. I thought, “What a remarkable people! Their son was killed only two short years ago, but they are not bitter toward the government, they are not becoming suicide bombers and killing Arabs, they are not wallowing in their pain. Instead, they pulled themselves together, worked night and day to raise money, and now are dancing as they dedicate the new Torah scroll. It is pain and joy mingled together. Tomorrow is the official memorial service, but today they dance.”
We arrived at the synagogue. Food was served, wine was drunk, and rabbis delivered messages of faith and hope. The Chief Rabbi of the army came to participate in this important event; he drove in all the way from another event in the north of Israel in order to be here. He said, “Our ancient rabbis teach us that only men of faith go to war, the weak of heart stay home in order not to harm the war effort. Only moral men go to war for the Jewish people. We don’t send mercenaries, we only send the best, the most spiritual, this is who we are; we are a nation of moral fighters. Philip was a moral fighter. He could have avoided military service, he was issued an exemption, but he volunteered, he chose to serve.”
The next morning was the memorial service held at the military cemetery in Jerusalem. Psalms were recited, military commanders spoke. One fellow, a friend of the family, spoke of his experiences fighting in the War of Independence back in 1948. Most of his friends are here, he said, buried in the military cemetery, and it is because of them that we are a free people in our own land.
Perhaps nothing symbolizes the concept of “from pain to productivity” better than the Rockets to Roses project. Ironically, I learned of this during a visit to the Netherlands. My friends were wearing unique jewelry. I asked where they got the beautiful necklaces with a picture of a rose. They said the necklaces were from Israel. They were made from pieces of metal that came from rockets fired upon Israel. Israelis took the rockets fired upon them by terrorists and used this material to make beautiful, happy, jewelry—taking rockets and turning them into roses.
Elad Kornfein speaks lovingly of his brothers, Eran and Oded. Eran was killed in an accident and Oded died in combat. “We were five siblings, now we are three.” Both Oded and Eran were musicians. Oded played the drums and was already well-known even though he was quite young. He was killed during his years of mandatory service, aged twenty. He was already accompanying famous singers for live performances. Elad will never forget that last time they met, the day before Oded was killed. “The moment that I met him is with me every day when I go to sleep and wake up—that meeting was our goodbye. When I hugged him for the last time, I burst out into tears.” The next day the family was notified of Oded’s death; he died in an exchange of fire with terrorists in Jenin.
A year after Oded’s death, the family arranged an evening in his memory. It was an event to promote and encourage musical talent in their region. Ideas began to develop and eventually they founded the Idan Center to encourage young musical talent in the Jordan Valley region. Years later, it is an established annual event, around the date of Oded’s birthday. Scholarships are awarded to young musicians. Oded’s music continues; from pain to productivity. How wonderful are your people Israel that this is how you deal with pain.
I know over thirty people killed in terrorist acts, including a Texas-born cousin who was killed by an Arab sniper. I know many people who were injured; a fifteen-year-old girl who was near a bus blown up by a suicide bomber, she has had many operations and skin grafts and still must avoid direct sunlight. I know a Krav Maga instructor who works in the security field. A bullet went through his cheek, ripping out one eye and leaving him handicapped for life. I know a local man who was stabbed thirteen times all over his body and managed to drag himself to safety. All of these people will bear their scars for life. Many will require multiple operations and emotional support for years to come.
Many young people have paid more visits to cemeteries than they should at this stage of life. Too many people in their late teens and early twenties have already been at most of the military cemeteries in Israel.
My nephew, Arie, was born in Los Angeles. Had he remained in sunny Southern California, he would have been in college and his biggest concern might have been final exams or term papers. Instead, he was in Lebanon, defending our democracy and freedom. At the tender young age of twenty, he had already lost one of his youth group leaders, murdered by terrorists while studying in a rabbinical seminary, and two of his commanding officers.
Too many Israelis know a kid who was out having pizza when he was blown to bits by a suicide bomber, or a father and daughter having dinner the night before her wedding when a suicide bomber blew up the restaurant, killing them along with many others, or a nineteen-year-old boy, just out of high school, killed on the front lines, dashing his hopes and dreams. This is a nation that has seen and felt death up close, and if Israeli self-defense is brutal and “in your face” it is because this nation is fed up with terrorists. We need not apologize to anyone. Our cause is just.
Soldiers at memorial service
Few people know that many of the modern technological devices they use every day, and take for granted, were developed here in Israel. The cell phone, instant messaging, voice mail technology, the first DNA computers, drip system irrigation; these and many more modern inventions were first developed in Israel. When anti-Israel elements speak of boycotting Israeli products, they do not realize the toll it would take in their daily lives. They would no longer be able to conduct business or enjoy the lives to which they have become accustomed.
Israel also has one of the highest percentages of hi-tech startup companies in the world—basically, Israelis are great innovators. How did they come to be this way? Part of the answer is their military training.
An Australian newspaper article, in bemoaning the difficult employment issues in their country, wrote the following startling words, “Lessons can be learnt here from, of all places, the Israeli army. In their book, Start-Up Nation, Dan Senor and Saul Singer set out to explain how a tiny country perpetually at war and with no natural resources has become a world powerhouse of technology. Israel has more technology companies listed on the Nasdaq than any other country other than the United States. According to the book, between the years 1980 and 2000 Egyptians registered 77 patents in the US, Saudis registered 171 and Israelis 7,652. The answer, they explain, is found in chutzpah, the Yiddish word that has become part of our vernacular. We give it to mean gall, guts, audacity, even insolence, but it is impossible to accurately translate with one word” (Neer Korn, National Times, January 11, 2011).
This attitude, called chutzpah, is part of the military training and part of our Krav Maga training. General Ariel Sharon was the epitome of chutzpah, and later, during his political career, he became known as “the bulldozer.” Full of confidence, Sharon broke rules, did not follow instructions, was unconventional, and upset many people. His superiors wanted him removed from command. While others urged defense against the massive Egyptian onslaught, Sharon was ready to attack and cross the Suez Canal. In the end, his daring actions were decisive in what was probably the greatest Israeli victory in modern times.
In the IDF, creative thinking is encouraged. Israelis from a young age learn to challenge authority. When I teach Americans, I often hear the response “Yes, sir!” to my suggestions. Israeli students challenge me, “Convince me that this works.”
“Israelis are taught and encouraged to debate. Young Israeli employees are constantly asking their superiors: ‘Why are you my manager; why am I not your manager?’” (Ibid.).
Israelis have learned, through hard and bitter experience, that giving up is not an option. Long ago an Israeli professor explained this point to me. “You must understand how to work with Israelis, understand their way of thinking. In America the word ‘no’ is the end of a conversation, it is the end of negotiations, in Israel it is only the beginning.”
In 1948 Israel faced “unbeatable” odds. The American president warned the Israeli leader that there was no way to win; it simply could not be done. Israel declared statehood and, against all odds, won. An Israeli battle position might be down to just a few men, the enemy might possess overwhelming force, yet time after time the Israeli unit would hold out, defying the odds. Simply put, Israeli soldiers learn not to accept defeat, to laugh in the face of the impossible, to reason “I will figure a way out of this.”
Sometimes this attitude, when transferred to civilian life, can have a downside. Israelis are notorious for tough negotiations with hotels abroad, always looking for a better deal, always thinking; this is only a starting point in the negotiations, I can hold out for a better deal. It is often difficult to change one’s way of approaching matters.
In business, however, this approach has a positive side. Israelis have become among the most innovative people on the planet, accepting challenges, defying the odds, and coming up with innovative solutions.
Another virtue picked up during years of military conditioning is “team play.” In American movies, we see the Rambo type—the lone guy who goes in and “cleans up the mess” all by himself. Israelis know this is not reality. No matter what you may think of yourself, you learn quickly that teamwork is the way to survive and succeed in real life combat. It is not your muscles that will save the day; it is clever teamwork.
The total necessity of teamwork becomes truly evident during combat. The one for all and all for one attitude proves itself as a matter of life and death. Your survival depends upon teamwork, trust, coordination, and the understanding that each individual can only achieve so much on this own. As the old Hebrew saying dictates, “The two are better than the one.” This reality of teamwork becomes part of the Israeli work ethic. Our ego has to give way to the reality that we need to work with others. When it comes to hi-tech problem solving it is often a fresh pair of eyes and a fresh perspective that leads to the breakthrough. We work together and succeed.
In the military, Israelis learn that when you are a smaller force you often must take risks. This military reality goes back to biblical warfare where a smaller force will take a daring risk to surprise the enemy and achieve results. “So Gid’on, and the hundred men that were with him, came to the edge of the (enemy) camp…and they blew with their rams horns and broke the jars that were in their hands. Then the three companies blew on the rams horns and broke the jars and held the torches in their left hands and the horns in the right hands to blow on them, and they cried ‘The sword of God and of Gid’on’…and all the (enemy) camp ran, and cried, and fled” (Book of Judges 7). Without some daring and risk-taking you remain stuck in the same old rut. You must take a risk to move ahead. Again, this risk-taking translates into civilian life.
“Israeli-style innovation probably has less to do with the kind of smarts you pick up at school and university. A lot of the achievement is based on Israeli’s oversized appetite for risk-taking as well as our culture of problem-solving and team play. Those values are learned in the street and to a very large extent in the army” (Jerusalem Post Magazine, June 11, 2010, 12).
Compulsory military service creates a unique bond between generations. Whereas a father and son or grandson might not have any common hobbies or share the same taste in music, they share a military history. When the son or daughter enlists, the father or mother will say, “Yes, I remember my first day—the food was so lousy I did not think I could eat it, and then I got latrine duty.”
And then, the much anticipated day arrives. With fear, pride, and joy mingled together, the Israeli family drives their eighteen-year-old son or daughter to the enlistment station. They will take the morning off from the work; the boss will understand. He, too, takes the day off when it is his son or daughter’s turn to be enlisted. Even Prime Minister Bibi Netanyahu and his wife took the morning off to accompany their son to the enlistment station. They are no different from other parents.
Memories of the parents’ own first day in the IDF will flood their consciousness as they offer stories and advice to ease the mind of the soon to be new recruit; what to say, what not to say, where to go. It is a rite of passage.
Then comes the dreaded moment; the painful goodbye. Wiping the tears from their eyes, the parents reassure themselves that everything will be OK, that the new soldier will be back home soon, safe and sound. “When is your first weekend off? How soon will we see you again?”
Somehow, we the parents, uncles, family, feel that “our” soldier is special. He or she will never be added to “that list,” our soldier will be protected, but from that moment onward our lives change. We live with fear, for the angel of death knows no favorites, and our fear only dies when we do.
A unique aspect of Israeli society is that nearly all Knesset (Parliament) members have children and grandchildren who served in the army. They know that the decisions they make as politicians will affect them directly as they are sending their own children to the front lines. “In anything you do as a politician, you ask yourself if you are bringing in your own personal bias, your personal feelings,” said former Knesset Member, Esterina Tartman, “but especially when it comes to a son in a war; it is not possible to ignore your feelings….As an MK (Member of Knesset), I have to go home at peace with my decision. I feel a heavy burden on my shoulders for all the parents of Israel.”
Golda Meir, former Prime Minister of Israel, was viewed as the classic Jewish mother and grandmother. She often conducted important meetings in her kitchen. Her headquarters were referred to as “Golda’s kitchen.” When she spoke, you knew her concern and love for “her boys” was that of a Jewish mother and grandmother and not simply a politician uttering rhetoric or thinking about the next election.
In all countries, politicians must think of the boys going off to war and risking their lives, but in most countries very few of the political elite have direct family ties to the military. In Israel, when it comes to military service there is no elite, there are only elite combat units. Everyone is required to serve; no one is above serving. You cannot buy your way out of military service.
October 23, 2012 was a special day for our family. My nephew Yitzi, Yitzchak, Isaac, received his red paratroopers’ beret at Ammunition Hill in Jerusalem. He was following a tradition. Not so long ago, we attended the same ceremony for his older brother, Arie. But there is more to it than that—he is named for my grandfather, Rabbi Isaac Klein, of blessed memory; born in Hungary, moved to the United States, where he volunteered for the US Army, and landed in France on D-day, June 1944.
Yitzi is a soft-spoken, quiet boy; I did not imagine he would be joining the paratroopers. I recall when he proudly, yet nervously, told me about his training. He was nervous, not sure what would be. He, and all of us, were so proud when he made the unit; one of the elite combat units of the IDF. With pride and carefully concealed fear, we celebrated with him and his unit.
I saw his shy, smiling face and I, of course, know we can never express our fears—always just below the surface. But with all that, the joy, the fear, there is something so deep, something that I always feel, something that I cannot repeat often enough; when I saw him with his gun, in an Israeli uniform, smiling broadly, I saw many others as well. I saw his forefathers, just a couple of generations ago, in Auschwitz. I saw generations of Jews who could not fight back, who could only, in their greatest fantasies, dream of such a moment. I saw the defenders at Masada shouting at the Romans, “You have not seen the last of us!” I saw Bar Kochba and his men, piously observing Jewish ritual while preparing for guerrilla attacks against the greatest army of that time. I saw all of them reaching into the future, with hands outstretched, saying, “Remember us. Fight for us.” Yitzi, Arie, and all the others are the fulfillment of this promise; they are the fulfillment of this dream. They must train for war so that this land and this people shall live in peace and fear none.
During World War Two, the United States was united in a war against an evil empire. Every American home who had a son, father, husband, daughter, wife, or mother at war had a special star on display. The star announced to one and all, “We are proud to be Americans, we are proud to be serving our country—we stand as one with our troops.” Sadly, if a family member fell in combat or was missing in action, another type of star was on display, saying, “We have paid a heavy price for freedom.”
During the Vietnam era, the Gulf War, and the wars in Somalia, Afghanistan and Iraq, this feeling has been sadly lacking among some elements of the American population. In Israel, this feeling of unity is one of the cornerstones of our strength.
With nearly every citizen serving in the military, you might think there is nothing special about it anymore, but there is. When you put on that uniform you are putting on a badge of honor, you are making a pledge to protect your people; you are carrying the torch that has been passed down to you. When you stand at the Western Wall, the last remaining structure of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem, you understand that you are a son to a fighting nation, you are a link in a chain that stretches back to King David who resided here, to Samson who fought the Philistines, and to Abraham, the first Hebrew, who came here, to this area with his son Isaac.
The Bible you receive contains your personal history; odds are some form of your name will appear in the Book. You are holding an M-16 rifle; your ancestors stood right here with the latest sword and shield. Their spirit hovers over you as their blood flows in your veins.
If your name is Ari or Aryeh, it means “lion” and you know you must be fierce as a lion in fighting for your people. If your name is Ethan, you know it means “strength” and you must be strong for your people. If your name is Moshe, you know you must be a leader like Moses. If your name is Joshua, you know you must lead the people in war as did the biblical Joshua. If your name is Michal, you know that the biblical Michal was the wife of King David.
You must be willing to stand ahead of the others and lead through raging waters and arid deserts. If your name is Peretz, it means “breaking through” and you know you must break through the enemy’s defenses at all costs and stop their aggression. If your name is Noah, it means “calmness” and you must strive to bring calmness to this troubled land. If your name is Meir, it means “one who brings light” and you must bring light to this nation and to the world.
It is as if you can hear God call out to you by name and you respond in the ancient Hebrew, “Hineni, here I am, ready to serve.” The Hebrew prophet, Isaiah, used that phrase, “Hineni” over twenty-eight hundred years ago. God called out to him. “And I heard the voice of God, saying, ‘Who shall I send and who will go for us’” (Isaiah 6) and Isaiah responded “Hinen, shlacheni” here I am, send me on your mission and I shall serve God and country. The words of Isaiah are still on our lips.
You feel all this when you put on your uniform, but you feel more as well. My nephew, Arie, wrote, “In Israel, just walking in the street with a uniform is something special. You get special treatment. After the war it was insane, people were offering us free meals, rides, patting us on the back…that’s something I am going to miss.”
You are fighting to protect your people and you know that they are right there with you, in action and in spirit. You know that your actions have a direct impact on those back home. The Arab you are searching might be a suicide bomber on his way to Tel Aviv. Soldiers have expressed that they felt sad having to trouble the Arabs and search them so thoroughly, but they realized it was an absolute necessity. These Israeli soldiers are not fighting for some abstract political goal conjured up by politicians; they are fighting for the lives of their people back home, wanting to feel safe going about their daily business. This gives them strength.
There is another source of strength—faith and prayer, as Arie Katz writes, “In Lebanon, in the moments of truth, I’d have to say that religion, faith and friendship are what got me through. That’s all you’ve got, and that’s what it comes down to. Suddenly, even those who don’t pray regularly are praying. Of course the usual natural drive had to come from Zionist feelings, and the will to serve your country as did generations before us.”
You are a link in the chain, the protector of the future, the guardian of the present. You are united; you are one, with the past, the present, and the future. There is strength in unity.
Arie Katz, IDF, 2006
After a demoralizing war, in what seems like an endless stream of wars for survival, and the Second Lebanon War in which exactly the same ground had to be conquered, one might think you would witness a lack of enthusiasm. In fact, the opposite is true: Moshe, a paratrooper from a unit that served in the war, says that when his unit was called up to fight terrorists, the turnout was “one hundred percent as usual” (Jerusalem Post, July 13, 2007).
The army reports that motivation is at an all-time high. Seventy-one percent of those who were fit to serve volunteered for top combat units. The Golani infantry unit had two applicants for every position, as did similar combat units. For many, it is religious values that sparked the interest. Many rabbis call upon their students to enlist in combat units. Teachers serve as personal examples, as nearly all teachers are combat veterans.
Zohar, the principal of a religious high school, was in a tank unit during the 1973 Yom Kippur War. He was injured in the battle over the Hermon Mountain. He said, “Our teachers emphasize military values. We emphasize meaningful military service. We have an entire program to prepare students for the military. Our alumni who served in elite combat units are invited back to lecture to our current students. They set an example. All our field trips cover grounds where battles took place. We teach combat heritage.”
In another school a student said, “The principal’s son is in a combat unit. He came and spoke to us. All my friends want to join elite units. The school atmosphere is one of ‘combat readiness’ we are all excited about serving.”
These kids know what they are getting into. They all grew up in a “combat atmosphere.” They watched their fathers and uncles, older brothers and cousins go off to war. Those who came back told them stories of heroism and self-sacrifice. They know what they are fighting for, they know the true face of the enemy, and they know there is no other way. The most powerful weapon, the greatest weapon in our arsenal, as US President Ronald Reagan said, is the human ingredient—the courage and morals of a free people, a people willing to fight for truth and freedom.
Soldiers at a memorial service for a fallen comrade, honoring those
who paid the highest price.
Although every position in the army is of importance, there is special prestige reserved for the combat units. One can sense this pride when seeing stickers such as, “Combat is the best, my brother” (in Hebrew this rhymes).
Thus, it was with great pride that my local newspaper announced that one of our high schools in Maaleh Adumim, Dekel Vilnai, came in thirty-seventh place in the country in terms of percentage of students enlisting in combat units. Seventy-eight percent of the students have enlisted in combat units for the upcoming draft. The mayor was very proud and came out with a statement saying that this amazing result is a testimony to the values and education we provide in this town. He added that from a young age we teach the value of volunteerism, making a contribution to society, Zionism, and Judaism.
The principal of the school, Harel Horowitz said, “We shall continue to educate according to the vision of excellence and contribution to the Israeli society. We are proud of all of our graduates who are taking meaningful positions in the IDF, and we wish them to return home safely and peacefully” (Zman Maaleh, August 13, 2009).
I was at the Central Bus Station in Jerusalem. The place was swarming with kids and young soldiers in uniform, carrying their full backpacks and their assault rifles. Some were on their way home to a well-deserved break; others were on their way back to their bases. How wonderful it was to see them, to talk to a few of them. These kids are defending our country, defending our freedom. Each of them, in their own way, is carrying the burden. They are our golden youth. I felt like shaking each one’s hand and thanking them personally for their sacrifice, for their dedication and devotion to all of us, for each one of us needs each of one of them.
I saw the camaraderie between them. For those who were going home for a break, the farewell was always accompanied with a warm embrace. This silent hug spoke volumes, without a word it said so much. These were combat troops; border police, Golani, paratroopers, they have been to hell and back, they have seen death and faced the moment of truth. That silent hug says, “Be strong brother, I will always be there for you, we will always watch each other’s back.” Life for them is such that you never know who will be tomorrow’s hero or who you will accompany on their last journey. Life can be short and uncertain. You look at their faces and you memorize the smiles, you want to hold them forever.
I look into their eyes and I see people living the moment, living for today, for you don’t know what tomorrow will bring. They are here today; tomorrow they may be facing terrorists hellbent on death and destruction. Today they are smiling; tomorrow they may find themselves under a hail of bullets. They hug each other, silently praying, “May God watch over you and bring you back safe, my brother.” I look at their smiling faces, so youthful, but yet having seen and felt so much pain, and I pray with them, “May God watch over you and bring you all home safely.”
Without saying a word…so much is spoken; the pain, the uncertainty of life, the power of life itself and the hope for tomorrow.
Without saying a word…
“Soon he will be going back to the war, without saying a word. She can’t believe he is leaving. She will stand there silently; he wipes the tear off her cheek. She can’t believe he is leaving. Another moment and the door will close; he thinks he heard her screaming. And he is going, without saying a word” (“Bli Lomar Milah” – “Without Saying a Word”) (accessed June 30, 2015). This is our youth and this is how they have to live. So much is placed on their young shoulders. I look at them and I ask God to watch over them, please.
The intense motivation to serve is not limited to guys; teenage girls are also highly motivated. It is not a matter of feminism or “proving what girls can do”; it is a matter of feeling that you are contributing something to your people, that you are shouldering part of the burden. It is a desire to give, not to receive. Speaking to young female soldiers you will hear the same themes again and again; “I was looking to fulfill myself and find a way to contribute to my country. I chose this unit because it is challenging and I feel that here I can really make a difference. I know this job involves danger, but my parents support me in my decision and encourage me.”
Michal
I took Michal out for the traditional pre-army dinner. Together with her mother, we talked about the army and what lay ahead in the days, weeks, and two years to come. “Do you have everything you need? Any last minute shopping? Warm socks, underwear?” Yes, she has everything. Her older sister, an officer in the IDF, made sure she had everything she needed. She is all set.
Michal took a little extra time before enlisting. She spent a year in a pre-military academy; she spent some time growing up. Now she knows what she wants. Like her mother, she will be a fitness instructor. But unlike her mother who grew up in England, she will be a combat fitness instructor. She has been preparing for this for a long time. Her years of karate and Krav Maga with me, and her training with her mother have given her a solid background, but still she says, “I heard the course is hell.”
IDF soldier
Her first stop will be Ammunition Hill in Jerusalem. This pickup point was not randomly chosen. In 1967, the famed Jordanian Legion held this post. The post consisted of tens of bunkers and a trench system surrounding the hill, with fortified gun emplacements covering each trench. The Israeli forces suffered serious casualties in this battle. The battle and the falling of one of the commanders was described in “Givat HaTachmoshet” (“Ammunition Hill”), a song by Yoram Taharlev, which became one the most famous songs in Israel. “The sun had not yet risen, half the unit already lay in blood, but we were already there, on Ammunition Hill….Whoever went first fell, one needed a great deal of luck, on Ammunition Hill” (accessed June 30, 2015).
The Battle of Ammunition Hill was one of the turning points in the war and the liberating of Jerusalem. When Michal is dropped off there, her first step in becoming a soldier, she will become part of this tradition. Today, it is a peaceful place, but we must remember that this is only due to those who gave everything for the people of Israel. “I sent Eitan, Eitan did not hesitate for a moment, he went up and started using his machine gun…Eitan would cover and we would clear out the bunkers from inside, until he took a bullet to the head and fell inside. Perhaps we were lions, but whoever wanted to live should not have been on Ammunition Hill” (Ibid.).
Kayla
From the time Kayla was a little girl, she knew she was going to be a soldier in the IDF; there was never any doubt in her mind. “I remember seeing soldiers in uniform, looking at them and thinking to myself, ‘I want to be like them. I want to serve my country.’ From that point on it never entered my mind that I would not be a soldier.” When she reached military age, she enlisted with the hope of making a major contribution. At first she wanted to be a combat soldier, or in a combat support role, but her talents led her elsewhere. She was earmarked for intelligence work. Her outstanding high school grades caught the attention of the military and she was assigned to an exclusive intelligence unit involving translating Arabic information.
“I was very, very motivated, I was willing to spend three years in some godforsaken place in some combat position.” Kayla accepted that she would have to serve in another capacity, one equally important. “It made me very proud to be a soldier. It gave me an overwhelming sense of joy and pride.”
Her basic training lasted two weeks. It was a coed program and was “hard times, but I loved it!” Her job in intelligence was no less demanding; stuck in the same room with the same people day after day; sometimes she had to work for twenty-four hours straight. She was on call night and day. She describes the feeling as being “very fulfilling.” Recently, Kayla was discharged and now she is training to be a Krav Maga instructor.
Ilana
Ilana wanted to be accepted as a combat fitness instructor. Every day I would see her outside in her running gear with her timer and heart rate monitor. She would run up and down the hills, and then do other exercises. Eventually she made it. She is currently an officer in the IDF.
Dvora
Dvora was offered a job that involved greeting foreign dignitaries, wearing nice clothing and high heels. The job would lead to contacts that could help her career after her military service. She rejected this offer and kept pursuing her dream of serving with a combat unit. Eventually, after several attempts, she was accepted as a combat instructor; working long hours, sleeping very little, and often living in combat conditions. She is now an officer and a combat instructor.
Danielle
Danielle is a vivacious, attractive, fun-loving, typical Israeli high school senior. Her parents immigrated to Israel from the United States. Her maternal grandmother survived the European Holocaust. She participated in the March of the Living, a program whereby high school students visit the concentration camps in Europe and learn about the mass killings committed by the Nazis and their allies during World War Two. When she came home, she decided she would be joining the Israeli army. She simply felt that she had to be part of the promise made to the victims; never again would we be helpless, everyone must contribute to our national defense. Her great-grandparents were killed in such camps, their exact fate was never known, nor did they ever receive a proper burial. Our history teaches us that we must all take responsibility, each and every one of us.
Since the middle of the War of Independence, women no longer serve as active combat soldiers, meaning that they are not sent into a war zone to attack the enemy. “Women had been fighters in the Palmach until the Arabs conquered Kibbutz Gezer in June (1948). But in that battle, the Arabs raped the girls. So the Palmach decided not to put women on the front lines anymore” (Jerusalem Post Magazine, May 8, 2008). However, women are still sometimes attached to combat units. Of the one hundred-nineteen soldiers killed during the Second Lebanon War, one was female. When you visit Mount Herzl Military Cemetery, you will notice several female names, all around the age of nineteen or twenty at the time of their deaths.
These days, there have been attempts to reintroduce women into combat type roles, although they do not participate in actual combat. The Nachshol unit deals with field intelligence; they are an infantry unit where the women must attain “level three rifle” proficiency (a rather high level). There is observation and gathering of intelligence in the field. The Shavit unit is a “combat unit with search and rescue training, integrating boys and girls, and is operational in Judea and Samaria and provides search and rescue services in Israel and around the world” (IDF Military Spokesman, January 2007).
In 2015, the IDF opened a third mixed-gender combat battalion. The total number of female conscripts volunteering for combat service jumped one hundred twenty-three percent from 2012 to 2014. The IDF hopes to see seven percent of female soldiers serving in combat positions (Yisrael Hayom, June 4, 2015).
Many women also serve in the Oketz Canine unit, a very important unit actively involved in locating explosives and preventing bombings.
Karakal is a mixed male/female unit with a ratio of two-thirds women and one-third men. The main task of this unit is to patrol the Egyptian border and block the infiltration of terrorists as well as to prevent smuggling of weapons, drugs, and other illegal items. In September 2012, the Karakal unit had to deal with a terrorist cell that infiltrated into Israel. In open combat, they killed all three terrorists. One of the soldiers who killed a terrorist was killed during the exchange of fire. A female soldier stormed the enemy position, shooting and killing another of the armed terrorists.
For women who join combat units, there are pluses and minuses. They serve longer than other women; they must sign on for two years and eight months—eight months longer than other women. They must agree to serve in the reserves until age forty-five and, of course, there are greater risks. On the plus side, they receive higher pay and upon release they receive an increased “release package” (more money). They also receive greater aid in purchasing top quality training sneakers. So why would anyone want to volunteer for such service? As it says on the sticker they proudly display, “Because combat is the best, my sister.”
CHAPTER 12
Warriors Make the Nation
Israel, as a nation of immigrants from so many countries, has a great deal of cultural diversity. People arriving from the former USSR, United States, Ethiopia, Yemen, Morocco, France, India, Britain, Germany, Poland, Australia, and, of course, native Israelis, would be hard pressed to get along at a party, let alone as a unit that must go into combat together and count on each other to protect their lives. The army, however, serves as a unifying force, a force that forges these diverse elements into one unified nation. “The army is the threshold people need to cross to join Israeli society,” said Brig. General Avigdor Kahalani.
Former Immigration Minister, Ya’acov Edri, said, “Army service is the rite of passage into Israeli society” (Jerusalem Post, August 17, 2007).
New immigrants speak of their desire to enlist, not only for pure patriotism, but also for cultural reasons. The army is a leveling ground; it creates a culture common to all Israelis, it is the fastest way to integrate into Israeli society. You may come from Spain or Ethiopia, the United States or Russia, but after serving in the IDF, you have become an Israeli. You have picked up military slang, you understand our difficult security situation, you have tasted military food and cleaned the latrines; most likely you have lost a few friends in combat. You have become part of the Israeli family. The military creates more than a common bond; in many ways it creates Israeli society. Warriors not only make the army, they forge a nation.
Conventional wars are fought on battlefields. The participants are trained soldiers. Unconventional wars are fought everywhere, and everyone is a participant.
When my brother, Ethan, a combat veteran, visited Jordan, he surveyed the land as a combat spy would observe the layout of the land. He looked for weak points where an enemy could attack, points where a solid defense could be mounted. He was doing this because by then, after years in the military, it had become second nature to him; it had become part of his way of thinking. In Israel, a wise person treats every place as a potential combat zone because our enemies treat every place as a potential point of attack, and every Israeli as a potential victim.
When choosing a restaurant, the first thing one should take into account is the element of time; what times are the threats greater, what times of day are terrorists most likely to attack, and which days of the week are likely to be chosen. Saturday night, for example, is most likely to be chosen as an opportune time to attack.
In choosing a restaurant, one should think of the clientele; is this clientele a likely first choice for a target? Location should be taken into account; is it on a quiet side street or in a large commercial area? The size of the location is also a factor; every establishment has a security guard, but how much can he do? In most cases when the guard spots a suicide bomber—the bomber will quickly detonate the bomb, killing himself, the guard, and everyone around him. In a large restaurant or a mall, you can be seated far enough away from the door to avoid the effects of the bomb and the shrapnel, but in a small, street-side café you have no chance, you are too close to the scene of the explosion to avoid harm.
Just as a soldier would not walk carefree into a battle zone, no civilian should walk carefree into a restaurant, he should remember that he is a warrior and everywhere can be a battle zone. A warrior never leaves himself unprotected or exposed.
Most communities in Israel have round-the-clock security. It is the citizen’s responsibility to protect his own community. As such, each male citizen is assigned to second or third shift; from 9 pm to 12 am, from 12 to 3 or from 3 to 6 am. He will be joined by several other men and will be driven around in a jeep. From time to time, he will get out and patrol by foot. When I explained this to a friend visiting from the United States, he commented, “Oh like a neighborhood watch. We have that too!”
I said, “Not exactly, here volunteers will be handed an M-16 rifle and will be expected to be familiar with how to fire it and how to use it as a blunt weapon. Here, citizens are assumed to have completed at least basic military training in the IDF. Many have served in the Russian or other armies as well; most have combat experience. No, this is not your ordinary ‘neighborhood watch.’”
In a nation of warriors, every citizen is ready and able to join an armed patrol; he is capable of handling an assault rifle, apprehending a suspect, and working as a team with other citizen/soldiers. Most importantly he has the attitude; the fearless aggressiveness to pursue the enemy, sticking to the goal, and functioning well under stress.
Most rabbis have served in the military. Many trained in a five-year hesder program that combines advanced religious studies with military combat training. One of the unique aspects of this program is that they study war from a religious/ethical perspective. The students grapple with moral and spiritual issues that a soldier may face. This has a doubly profound effect; it affects the behavior of the soldiers during combat and, later, it affects the perspective of the rabbis who have become community leaders. A man who has stared death in the eyes has a heightened spiritual perspective.
The religious warrior is a unique phenomenon. The IDF has a chief military rabbi, but there are also many rabbis on the front lines. During the Gaza war against Hamas, rabbis were on the front lines in full military gear side by side with the combat troops. The rabbis strengthened the spirit of the fighting men and encouraged them with biblical stories that matched their current situation. Many centuries earlier, King David fought the Philistines here, now his descendants were fighting the current enemy in the same area. Faith and a deepened sense of history helped the soldiers during this difficult time.
The rabbis give out copies of the Prayer Before Battle. The soldiers, both religious and secular accept and recite the words, “Be with the soldiers of Israel, emissaries of Your people, who are going to war today with their enemies. Strengthen us and embolden us, fight our battles, hold the shield and rise up to help us.”
A group of visiting Americans came to watch a military demonstration. Five female soldiers appeared; all beautifully groomed. The crowd commented on their attractiveness. All were carrying guns and proceeded with a demonstration of their martial skills. Next came a team of search and rescue soldiers. They proceeded to drill through thick metal and cement, knock down walls, climb over hurdles and crawl through tiny spaces. When they emerged, they took off their protective helmets and it was those same beautiful young women, IDF soldiers. One of the visitors in the audience commented to his friend, “I have a daughter that age—all she does is hang out at the mall!”
The message is that in Israel the typical eighteen-year-old girl might be firing a rifle, running an obstacle course, training a unit of new recruits, or teaching martial arts to soldiers. She will still be putting on make-up and thinking of what to do with her hair, but she will also be actively contributing to making her country a safer and better place to live.
Israeli women have long played a part in our national struggle. They were members of all the pre-state underground militias; Nili, Irgun, Lehi, and Haganah. They did not shy away from any role; gun smuggling, intelligence, smuggling in illegal Jewish immigrants past British blockades, combat medics, bomb making, and active combat.
Sara Aharonson joined the Nili organization in 1916. The purpose of this organization was to gather military intelligence for the British against the Turks. (At the time, the Jews of Israel sided with the British against the Ottoman Turks as the British had promised the Jews a homeland; a promise left unfulfilled.) She was captured by the Turks in 1917, and after severe torture shot herself to avoid giving away any information.
Ella Izbuzki was born in Poland and came to Israel as a child. She joined the Irgun in 1945 and participated in gun smuggling and bombing of bridges and trains that served the enemy. When the actual combat began, she served as a combat medic and was shot in the stomach. She told the other medics to treat the fighters first. As a result, she died from her wounds on the battlefield.
Rachel Zeltzer was born in Romania. When the Germans conquered her town she was transferred to the ghetto. Her mother managed to get her smuggled out of the ghetto in 1941 and from there she joined the “illegal immigration to Israel” (as it was illegal for Jews to flee to the one place where they could truly be safe). In 1948, with the outbreak of the War of Independence, Rachel joined the fighting forces, serving first in Jerusalem. She served as a sharpshooter in the Old City of Jerusalem, where she was shot and killed.
The Haganah was one of the three pre-state militias; the Palmach was its elite commando unit. Women fought in this unit and thirty-three were killed in combat. Today, the mixed male/female unit, Karakal, is officially known as Unit Thirty-Three; in honor of the thirty-three women of the Palmach who fell in combat.
During the 1948 War of Independence, the women fought side by side with the men. In biblical times, Debra the Prophetess inspired and conducted the war against the Philistines, guiding the people of Israel in battle.
In the classic film, Fiddler on the Roof, Tevya the milkman is asked many questions. “Why do we Jews do this? Why do we Jews do that? Why do we wear certain garments? Why do we observe certain practices?”
How does Tevya answer? “Tradition! Tradition!” (Sholom Aleichem (adapted from stories), Fiddler on the Roof, directed by Norman Jewison, MGM, Hollywood, 1971).
Indeed, our tradition is very important and teaches us many vital lessons about who we are and how to survive. Every year during the holiday of Passover, Jews gather round the table and recite the story of the exodus from Egypt and the lessons learned. Some of the lessons are written in code.
There is a passage about five rabbis who were up all night telling the story of the Exodus when suddenly a student runs in and says “Rabbis! It is time to recite the morning prayers.” On the surface, the point of this story is the importance of recounting the story of the Exodus, but there is a hidden meaning. My father, of blessed memory, while leading the Passover seder, would say that the rabbis were, in fact, planning the revolt against the Romans who had conquered and occupied the Land of Israel. Religious and political freedoms were intertwined, and the leaders of the revolts against foreign occupiers were always religious leaders.
The rabbis used the holiday as a pretext for this dangerous gathering to plan the revolt against the foreign occupiers. Otherwise, the gathering of such prominent religious leaders would have aroused suspicion. The student who came running in to tell the rabbis to pray raises a question. Did not the rabbis know when to recite the morning prayers? Do rabbis need to be reminded to pray? The student was the “look-out guy,” and his warning was a code that the Roman guards were approaching and the rabbis had better stop their secret session.
There is more to this story. Old rebellions inspire new ones. That rebellion against the Romans took place nearly two thousand years ago. That was the last time in two thousand years that the Jewish people had an army of their own in an independent Land of Israel. But as we are commanded to read the story of Passover, the wise amongst us understand the message—freedom is never free, you have to fight for it.
The rabbis instruct us, “Every man should see himself as if he personally came out of Egypt.” That means that over these thousands of years, when one reads the Passover story of liberation he must visualize himself becoming free. Each reader of the story is, in fact, visualizing becoming free, mentally training himself to be the leader of freedom fighters, a movement of liberation.
The Jew may have been a poor oppressed minority, without land or army to protect him, but in his soul he was commanded to be free. The rabbis instructed him to read the Passover story each year, on the anniversary of our exodus from Egypt and to remember that feeling of becoming free, to feel that freedom in his own soul.
This book, this evening once a year, kept the dream of freedom alive in one’s heart; it prevented one from falling into a slave mentality. It guarded one from despair. As long as one can visualize freedom, hope still remains. Reciting these stories kept the spark of freedom alive, even when the physical reality was harsh. Natan Sharansky, one of our greatest “Refusniks,” spent many years in a Soviet prison and yet he always remained a free man.
Old rebellions inspire new ones. My father, of blessed memory, made a point of reminding us that the famed Warsaw Ghetto Revolt also began on this night; the night of Passover, the night of liberation from Egyptian bondage. For over three weeks, the starved Jews of the Warsaw ghetto in Poland fought back the Nazi war machine, just as the starved Jews fought off the Romans in Jerusalem in the year 70 CE. Using homemade weapons and an assortment of weapons purchased from other resistance movements, the outnumbered and outgunned Jews defeated the powerful enemy day after day. They sent the Nazis out, retreating from the ragtag army of the Jews. The Jews held out for longer than the entire Polish army!
At the time of the revolt, most of the Jews of the ghetto had already been sent to their deaths in concentration camps. The number of Jewish fighters was actually very small. Once again, as in ancient times, it was the few against the many, the pure against the impure, the David against the Goliath. The ancient tradition inspired a modern rebellion; the biblical Hebrew warrior arose once again to grab his sword and face his enemy.
On the night of Passover, we read how “In every generation they rise against us to annihilate us.” Some people may not understand the purpose of our enemies; they might say we can reason with them, make concessions, give them “land for peace,” or other such nonsense. The Haggadah, the Passover liturgy, reminds us of the enemy’s purpose: to annihilate us. The Passover ritual reminds us that there is no logic or reason, but simply that “in each generation someone will rise up against us.”
My dear father reminded us that on this night not only did our forefathers leave Egyptian bondage and slavery and march to Israel, but on this night, just a few short years ago, a starved and oppressed people, abandoned by the entire world, cornered into a ghetto, and deprived of all human dignity, rose up to say, “You may herd us into trains like cattle, you may starve us and murder us, but never, never can you take away our human dignity. You may take our body, but you can never crush our soul.”
Year after year the Haggadah is recited. Year after year the stories are told. In Poland, in Siberia, in Auschwitz, the story is recited. Under harsh Muslim rule in Iraq, Syria, Egypt and Yemen, the story is recited. The spark, the spirit, was kept alive, passed on from generation to generation until finally the moment came when the spark became a flame and the flame became a fire. In blood and fire Zion fell and in blood and fire Zion arose once again.
That is why we must read it every year, lest we forget. That is why Israeli military commanders want their soldiers to read it; to remind them what kind of enemy they are fighting against, to remind them what kind of nation we must be. These soldiers may soon find themselves at war and they must know the purpose of the enemy, and the spiritual strength of our people.
In some cultures, there had always been a warrior class and a scholarly class. From their youth boys were divided and raised accordingly. The two groups seemingly had nothing in common; one was raised to be a soldier, the other a scholar. Soldiers did not rise up the ranks to become generals; the general came from the scholarly class.
Among the people of Israel this has never been the case. From the days of the Bible, we have always had the warrior/scholar. Even the rugged warrior was bound by the laws and morals of the Torah, even the scholar had to be trained for war. The Bible enumerates very specific, and rare, cases where a man could be temporarily exempted from military service.
Our ancient prophets were warriors and scholars. King David was the epitome of the warrior/scholar. The judges of Israel; Samson, Ehud Ben Gerah, Deborah, were all warriors. This tradition continues today. In the religious academies of Israel, this tradition is part and parcel of daily life. The study of Torah and preparation for military service go hand in hand. It is well known that religious soldiers have been in the forefront of the most dangerous battles and have risen to the highest ranks.
The State of Israel and the IDF recognize that religious training should be provided for all, even the self-proclaimed secularists who do not follow a traditional Jewish lifestyle. The army provides training in basic Jewish concepts and values; they understand that, in Israel, this is an essential part of being a complete soldier. We are a people’s army and this people must know what they are fighting for.
Perhaps the most moving moment in a soldier’s career is the moment he or she is sworn in as a soldier of Israel. Standing at the Western Wall of the destroyed Holy Temple or at the ruins of Masada where brave warriors held out, the young recruit receives his/her basic survival tools—the M-16 rifle and the Hebrew Bible. These two tools will be with them throughout their service. Both are an essential part of who we are as a people.
In this Bible, this Torah, they will read about their ancestors who fought on the same land, for the same causes, the same values, and the same principles as they are fighting for today. The soldiers must understand that the Torah, the Hebrew Bible, is their history, their guidebook, and their inspiration. Here they will learn how their ancient forefathers stood up for justice and fought tyranny and oppression. Here they will learn about the scholar/warrior who carries the holy book with him into battle. The heroic tales of old will inspire and guide them.
CHAPTER 13
Warfare in Biblical Times
In July 2006, two Israeli soldiers were taken captive by Arab terrorists operating out of Lebanon. Obtaining the return of prisoners, alive or dead, has always been a primary Jewish value. It is part of our respect for life, for the human being “created in the image of God.” The Israeli forces responded with overwhelming military firepower, not only in an attempt to get the boys back, but also as a deterrent for the future.
This is not the first incident of this kind. Around four thousand years ago, there was a similar occurrence. “And they took Lot, Abram’s brother’s son, who dwelt in Sodom…And a refugee came and told Abram the Hebrew” (Bereshith 14:12). The story of Abraham as a warrior is rarely told. Abraham was but the first of many Hebrew warriors, and it is this tradition that we continue today.
Abraham – the first Hebrew, the first Hebrew warrior, man of God, man of war
The story of Israeli self-defense begins with the very first Hebrew—the patriarch Abraham, born over four thousand years ago. His nephew, Lot, was taken captive by four victorious kings known for their fierceness. They hoped to receive a ransom from the wealthy Abraham. Abraham would not negotiate. He knew that negotiating with terrorists and kidnappers is not a good policy. He had to think of the future—to set a precedent. He responded in a different way, “And when Abram heard that his brother had been taken captive (it was his nephew, but he treated him like a brother) he led forth his trained servants…three hundred and eighteen, and pursued them to the extreme north of Cana’an, to the area of Dan.”
The Bible uses a somewhat rare term in this verse, “WaYarek.” The biblical commentator, Rabbi Abraham Ibn Ezra, notes “that he gave them weapons.” Ibn Ezra brings other sources to show variations of this word used in the context of a spear and a sword. Abraham had an army of three hundred-eighteen men, all well-trained in the art of war, “For he had trained them many times in the art of war even if it is not mentioned (in the biblical text)” (Rabbi Abraham Ibn Ezra, Spain, 12th century).
Abraham was thus the first Hebrew martial arts instructor. He personally trained all the members of his household in the art of warfare, for he knew that at times it would be necessary to defend his family and his property. He armed them with swords and spears and they pursued the enemy. “and he divided his forces in an attack against them at night, in order to throw them into confusion…and he defeated them and pursued them…he brought back his kinsman, Lot” (Bereshith 14:15-16). Clearly, Abraham was well versed in the tactics of war, although he was a spiritual man.
Jacob – our first wrestler
Abraham’s son, Isaac, led a peaceful life, as did his grandson, Jacob. However, even a man of peace must sometimes fight. “And Jacob was left alone; and there wrestled a man with him until the break of day. And when the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he touched the hollow of Jacob’s thigh and it was put out of joint, as he wrestled with him” (Genesis 32).
One thousand years ago, the biblical commentator explained, “As it is the way of two opponents who make an effort to knock each other down, that they grab each other with their arms, shake each other, moving their legs about and try to wrestle the other down” (Rabbi Shimon Yitzchaki, France, 11th century).
Sounds like our Judo of today. The biblical narrative tells us that Jacob’s wrestling opponent was none other than an angel of God. After the match, the angel blesses Jacob and tells him he now will have a new name; Yisrael (Israel). The Hebrew word Yisrael is composed of two words: yisra (to struggle) and El (God). “For you have struggled with God and man and have prevailed.” Thus, the name Israel was born of this early wrestling match close to four thousand years ago. In a sense, the nation of Israel and the earliest Israeli self-defense were born together. “Israel” was born in a struggle. The struggle with “God and man” has continued to this very day.
Shimon and Levi – the brothers of Dina, masters of the sword
One of the more controversial issues in the book of Bereshith, and one still debated today, is the episode of Shimon and Levi. The sons of Jacob and the brothers of Dina, they “negotiated” for her release (after she was abducted by Shechem and his clan) and ended up wiping out all males of that clan. The verse reads, “And two sons of Ya’akov (Jacob), Shimon and Levi, the brothers of Dina, each took his sword and turned on the city with confidence and killed every male” (Bereshith 34:25). We see from this verse that each one had a sword and was obviously quite adept at its use (as they killed an entire clan, although it is true that the males of the clan were in pain after their circumcisions, as agreed upon with the clan of Ya’akov).
Although the sons of Ya’akov are described mostly in terms of being shepherds, herdsmen, and farmers, we see here without any doubt, that just like their grandfather, Abraham, they were well-trained in the art of warfare and were expert swordsmen.
Moshe (Moses) – the redeemer of the people
The Hebrews had become slaves to the Egyptians. The Egyptians feared an uprising and decreed harsh measures against them.
Moshe was hidden by his mother to avoid death by the Egyptians who had decreed that all newborn Hebrew babies were to be killed. He was found by pharaoh’s daughter who adopted him and raised him in the palace. Our rabbis teach that this was divinely ordained so that he should not grow up as a slave, but as a prince. As the ordained future leader and redeemer of the people of Israel, Moshe must think like a prince and not like a slave.
He always knew who he was and did not forget his own people. When he grew to be a man, he went out so see his brethren, slaves to the Egyptians. “And Moshe went out to his brothers, and saw how they were suffering under harsh conditions, and he saw an Egyptian taskmaster beating a Hebrew man, one of his brothers” (Exodus 2).
Moshe viewed the Hebrew slaves as brothers; he felt their pain and he had to act. These were true signs of leadership. Without thinking of his own safety, without worrying that he would be throwing away his status as a prince of Egypt, he acted. “He turned to all sides to see if anyone would come to the aid of the Hebrew, when he saw there was no man, he fought with the Egyptian, slew him, and hid him in the sand” (Ibid.).
Moshe displays all the important qualities of leadership. He goes out to the people, he “sees” their suffering, he feels their pain, and he knows he must act. Without fear for his own life or his own political position; he takes decisive action, knowing that after this he must flee Egypt. This is the man God will choose to lead the people out of slavery. This is the man who, until this very day, we call Moshe Rabeinu, (Moshe our rabbi).
Pinhas – man of war, man of peace, master of the spear
The Israelites were battling the nation of Moab. Moab had tried every trick in the book to stop the advance of the people of Israel, including the use of magicians and spell casters, but nothing worked. They feared the Israelite foe. They resorted to man’s weak point—young women. The daughters of Moab were sent out to distract and weaken the fighters of Israel, and it was proving effective. “And the people began to commit harlotry with the daughters of Moab…and the anger of the Lord was kindled against Israel….And Moshe said to the judges of Israel, ‘Slay every one his men that have attached themselves to Baal – pe’or (the god of Moab).’ And, behold, one of the children of Israel came and brought to his brethren a Midianite woman in the sight of Moshe (Moses), and in the sight of the congregation of the children of Israel…And when Pinhas, the son of Elazar, the son of Aaron the Cohen (priest), saw it, he rose up from among the congregation, and took a spear in his hand; and he went after the man of Israel into his chamber, and thrust both of them through, the man of Israel and the woman, through the belly” (Bamidbar 25).
This act of violence ended the plague and ended the problem. Pinhas was clearly an expert in the use of the spear, as exhibited by his accurate shot, killing both the man and the woman with a single blow. Pinhas is rewarded by God and is given a covenant of peace for ending this immoral episode. Again, we see the fusion of military might, the ability and willingness to act, and spiritual closeness with God.
Ehud Ben Gerah – judge of Israel, master of the short sword
In the book of Judges, God appoints Ehud, son of Gera, to judge the people and return them to the path of God. This spiritual mission does not preclude violence toward the enemy. Ehud personally kills the enemy king with a new kind of weapon; a double-edged sword. “Ehud made him a sword which had two edges, of a cubit length” (Judges 3). This sword was a major innovation. All swords had only one sharp side, this was sharp on both sides, an innovation designed to facilitate a quicker and swifter death. Ehud was to meet the King of Moab privately and had to make it quick, before the guards returned.
All swords were long; this sword was designed as a shorter version so he could hide it under his clothing when he went to meet the enemy king. “And he girded it under his clothes on his right thigh” (Ibid.). He wore it on his right thigh, as he was left-handed, and had it designed for a quick and easy draw. “He took the sword from his right thigh, and thrust it into his belly” (Judges 3:21). The entire sword became submerged in the large belly of the king. Ehud left it there and made his quick retreat. Had he pulled the sword out, blood would have dripped on his clothing, drawing attention to himself.
When Ehud returned to the Israeli side of the border, he blew the ram’s horn, the shofar, as a prearranged signal for the people to gather for war. The warriors of Israel came down from the mountains and Ehud led them in victorious battle. “Moab was subdued that day under the hand of Israel and the land rested for eighty years” (Judges 3:30).
Deborah – judge, prophetess, military leader
Thirty-two hundred years ago, there was a Hebrew woman who led her people politically, spiritually, and militarily. “And Deborah, a prophetess, woman of Lapidoth, she judged Israel at that time” (Judges 4:4).
The people of Israel were being subjugated by the Philistines. Although life was tolerable, the proud Hebrew nation could not stand being under the thumb of a foreign ruler. Deborah decided to act. Deborah initiated, organized, and planned the military campaign against the great Canaanite general, Sisra, in order to conquer the valley of Jezre’el. After Israel had been subjugated to the Canaanites for twenty years, Deborah decided to change things.
Deborah had no intention of personally leading the troops in battle, however, after some pressure; she agreed to be present at the military camp of Israel. Deborah plays a major role in the military campaign, deciding the number of warriors needed, planning strategy, defining military parameters and goals. “Go and gather your men to Mount Tavor, and take with you ten thousand men of the children of Naftali and of the children of Zebulon and I will draw out to you to the wadi of Qishon Sisra, the captain of Yavin’s army with his chariots and his multitude, and I will deliver him into thy hand” (Judges 4:6). She is, of course, speaking in the name of God when she promises redemption and victory.
The plan is to draw Sisra’s army into the open field, the wadi, the low-lying valley, and then to attack them there. Barak Ben Avinoam, the Israelite commander, is to come down from Mount Tavor in a surprise attack. “And Deborah said to Barak, ‘Up, for this is the day God has given Sisra to your hands…so Barak went down from Mount Tavor and ten thousand men after him” (Judges 4:14). Barak’s troops routed the Canaanite army and Sisra fled on foot, looking for a place to hide.
Yael – the final heroine
The final blow was struck by a woman named Yael, as prophesied by Deborah. Yael was not of the people of Israel, but of the Keini tribe. The Keini tribe had been close with the people of Israel since the days of Moshe (Moses). In general, they tried to remain neutral, but in this case sided with Israel. Sisra accepted Yael’s hospitality because relations had been good between the Canaanites and the Keini tribe. Yael lured Sisra into her tent, where she first offered him hospitality. “Turn in, Sir, turn in to me, do not fear” (Judges 4:18). Then, when he was resting, she killed him. “Then Yael, Hever’s wife, took a tent peg, and took a hammer in her hand, and went softly to him, and drove the tent peg into his temple…so he died” (Judges 4:21-22). The war ends with complete victory for Israel. “And the land was quiet for forty years” (Judges 5:31).
Yael, the heroine, is still honored today as the name Yael has become one of the most popular names for Jewish girls.
Samson – great warrior and judge, master of guerrilla warfare
Samson was a great warrior, the strongman of the Bible. He served as a judge and spiritual leader for the people of Israel for twenty years. These were hard times; the southern part of Israel was controlled by the Philistines. The people of Israel felt downtrodden and powerless to resist. They were full of desperation and feared the Philistines.
Unlike other leaders, Samson did not lead the people in battle; perhaps they were simply not ready for it. Instead, he fought a one-man battle and engaged in guerrilla warfare against the Philistines. He was careful to make it look like a personal vendetta so the Philistines would not retaliate and use collective punishment against the entire people of Israel.
To learn their ways, he lived among the Philistines, married their women, and played their games. Samson’s tactics were unusual and his behavior a bit unorthodox, yet he is viewed as a hero. These were unusual times and unusual methods were necessary to raise the spirits of the people. The rabbis of the Talmud refer to him as “the protector of Israel” and “Samson the Brave.” He is said to have been a selfless man who never used his position or his power for personal gain.
Samson was a powerful man who beat the Philistines time and again with various tactics. “And the spirit of the Lord came upon him and he went down to Ashkelon, and slew thirty men of them” (Judges 14). After he agreed to be taken away, to avoid Philistine retaliation against the community of Israel, he was tied up and taken captive. The Philistines shouted at him and offended him, “And the spirit of the Lord came mightily upon him, and the cords that were upon his arms became as flax that was burnt with fire, and his bands melted from off his hands, and he found a new jawbone of an ass, and put out his hand, and took it, and slew a thousand men with it” (Judges 15). We can just imagine the powerful circular motions he must have used in combating so many men at once.
Samson was a proud man. When he was blinded by the Philistines, after his Philistine wife betrayed him and revealed to her people his source of strength, he was brought as entertainment to the palace. He decided to avenge his dishonor. He called out to God asking to restore his strength for one last heroic blow against the enemy. “O God remember me, and strengthen me, only this one time O God that I may avenge against the Philistines for one of my two eyes” (Judges 16). He cried out, “Let my soul perish with the Philistines,” as he knocked down the two central pillars of the palace. The palace crumbled and fell upon the three thousand guests, “So the dead whom he slew at his death were more than those whom he slew in his life” (Ibid.).
It is said that for twenty years after his death, the fear of Samson was still upon the Philistine people. For twenty years they behaved themselves, fearing another Samson. Although Samson did not bring total freedom to the people of Israel, his actions were the beginning; the first weakening of the Philistine stronghold on Israel. Others would continue the work.
Today the name Samson, Shimshon in Hebrew, is associated with strength and bravery. There is a unit in the Israeli army called Shimshon, as well as several gyms and boxing clubs with his name, all a tribute to the man who raised the hopes of the people of Israel during those difficult times.
King Saul’s first victory – the battle of Michmash, Judea
King Saul put together a professional army of three thousand men, but he was still badly outnumbered and outgunned by the ruling Philistines. The Philistines had “thirty thousand chariots, six thousand cavalry and people as numerous as the sands of the sea” (Samuel I 14).
The Philistines were the dominant power. King Saul planned to rebel. The rebellion began with his son, Jonathan, attacking the Philistine garrison. The Philistines heard of this and planned a counterattack. King Saul blew the shofar (ram’s horn) and gathered his warriors at the Gilgal. The Philistines encamped at Michmash. The Hebrew soldiers hid “in caves, and in thickets, and in rocks, and in strongholds, and in pits” (Samuel I 13:6).
The Philistines were better armed, as the Hebrews had nearly no metal weapons. “Now there was no smith found throughout the Land of Israel, for the Philistines said, lest the Hebrew make them swords or spears” (Samuel I 13:19). The ruling Philistines did not allow any smiths in the Land of Israel, much like the Japanese would ban all swords in Okinawa in the 19th century. This was a common practice to prevent the people from rebelling. Only Saul and his son Jonathan had swords.
Jonathan, who was known as a brave and fearless warrior, and a God-fearing man, took his aide and went over to watch the Philistine camp. “Between the passes, by which Jonathan sought to go over to the garrison of the Philistines, there was a sharp rock on the one side, and a sharp rock on the other side” (Samuel I 14:4).
After a few divine signs the two men attacked the Philistine camp. They killed about twenty men, but the main effect was to cause tremendous confusion in the Philistine camp. The Philistines did not know where the attack came from or where the Hebrew warriors were. This caused a panic in the camp. “And there was trembling in the camp, in the field, and among all the people” (Samuel I 13:15). As a result, the confused Philistines attacked each other, thinking they were Hebrews, “And behold, every man’s sword was against his fellow, and there was a very great confusion” (Samuel I 14:20). At this point the regular troops of King Saul descended upon the confused Philistines and achieved a great victory.
Centuries passed, armies came and went, but the land remained as it was. The biblical name of the Hebrew town, Michmas, was preserved by Arabs who invaded and occupied the land; they called it Mahamas—without realizing it, they provided another proof of who the original inhabitants of this town were.
In 1918, toward the end of World War One, General Allenby was with the British troops and was to conquer this village from the Turks. His assistant, Major Vivian Gilbert, was troubled. The name of the village sounded familiar. He opened his Bible, found the name Michmas in the book of Samuel, and began to read. He wondered, “Would those two sharp rocks and the narrow pass still be there?” Indeed they were! It was occupied by only a small group of Turkish soldiers.
He realized that very little had changed over the years, and decided to change his battle plan. Instead of sending a full brigade, he sent only one unit. They ran into only a few Turks and easily overcame them. Then, in the middle of the night, the British troops climbed the mountain, just as Jonathan had done three thousand years earlier. The Turks woke up startled; they thought they had been attacked by the entire British brigade. All were either killed or taken captive; not one escaped.
Samuel – prophet, man of God, master of the long sword
The prophet Samuel was a man of God in the truest sense. God had given King Saul, via the prophet Samuel, very specific instructions as to how to handle the enemy. King Saul, instead, acted on his own judgment. Among other things, he did not kill Agag, the vicious king of Amalek, who had been tormenting the people of Israel. God knew that the evil nation of Amalek had to be destroyed and that their king must be slain in order to avoid future wars. Sometimes violence is needed to secure peace. King Saul did not heed the word of God and thus was destined to lose his kingdom.
Samuel strongly rebuked King Saul, “The Lord has torn the kingdom of Israel from you this day and has given it to a neighbor of yours” (Samuel I 15:28). Samuel then calls for Agag, king of Amalek, “Then said Samuel, ‘bring here to me Agag the king of Amalek.’ And Agag came to him in chains. And Agag said, ‘Surely the bitterness of death is past.’ And Samuel said, ‘As thy sword has made women childless, so shall thy mother be childless among women.’ And Samuel cut Agag in pieces before the Lord in Gilgal” (Samuel I 15:32-33).
Those who have studied the art of the sword know that to be able to cut apart a human being with a sword requires a great deal of skill acquired from years of intense training. The Japanese arts of the sword, Kendo and Iiado, are lifetime pursuits. Clearly the prophet Samuel, besides being a man of great spirit, was also a skilled swordsman.
David – shepherd, king of Israel
“And David was the son of a certain man of Efrat of Beth-lehem in Yehuda, and the name of this man was Yishai and he had eight sons, and during the days of King Saul the man was quite old, an aged man” (Samuel I 17:12).
This is the humble beginning, the first mention, of the man who would come to embody the ideal Hebrew/Jew. This is the man who would become king and represent the proper balance between mind and body, philosophy and combat readiness, the world of the spirit and the world of hard core realpolitik and war. It is David who would write the words in the book of Psalms, “Blessed be God my rock who teaches my hands to do battle, my fingers for war” (Psalms 144). It is David who conquers the city of Jerusalem and makes it the eternal capital of Israel.
David’s first test, first fight, is with Goliath the Philistine giant, but before then, as a shepherd, he already showed his courage and prowess. King Saul at first doubts David’s ability to take on Goliath, “And Shaul said to David: you cannot go against this Pelishti (Philistine) and fight him for you are but a youth and he is a man of war from his childhood” (Samuel I 17:33).
David responds, “Your servant (David) has been a shepherd for his father, tending the sheep, and when a lion or a bear would come and take a sheep from the flock, and I would go after it and smote it and saved it from its mouth. And when it arose against me, I caught it by its beard and smote it and killed it. Your servant killed both the lion and the bear, and this uncircumcised Pelishti shall be as one of them, seeing as he has mocked the armies of the living God” (Samuel I 17:34-36). David then proceeds to take on and defeat the giant.
David shows early on this quality of the warrior/man of God, “And David said to the Pelishti, you come at me with a sword, and with a spear and with a javelin but I come at you in the name of God the head of the army of Israel which you have mocked” (Samuel I 17:45).
He then adds a great deal of bravado! “This day God will deliver you into my hand and I will smite you and take off your head from you and I will give the carcass of the camp of Pelishtim (Philistines) this day to the birds of the sky and the wild beasts of the earth that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel” (Samuel I 17:46). As Goliath approached, David took a stone from his bag and slung it at the Philistine and caused him to fall down. Then David took another stone and killed him. David did not have a sword so he took Goliath’s own sword and cut off his head. At this point, the men of Israel and Yehuda charged against the Philistines and achieved a great victory. And when David and the men came back from the battle, they were greeted by the women of all the cities of Israel, with song and with dance. “And the women answered one another as they danced and said Shaul has slain his thousands and David his ten thousands” (Samuel I 18:7). David’s reputation as a great warrior was now fully established.
David would fight many more successful battles against the Philistines, “And there was war again, and David went out, and fought with the Pelishtim, and slew them with a great slaughter, and they fled from him” (Samuel I 19:8). David ruled as king in Hebron for seven and a half years at which point he conquered Jerusalem from the Yevusi (Jebusites) and became king over all of Israel and Yehuda. “And David took the stronghold of Ziyyon, that is the city of David.” (Samuel II 5:7).
The concept of deterrent was well known to our biblical ancestors. “Now Dinah, the daughter of Leah, whom she had borne to Jacob, went out to see the girls of the country. Shechem, son of Hamor the Hivite, the chieftain of the land, saw her and took her by force; he lay with her and violated her” (Genesis 34:1). Dinah’s brothers, Shimon and Levi, were outraged. As a small and outnumbered clan they knew they must make a stand, lest this sort of thing happen again. So they plotted.
They agreed to Shechem’s peace proposal that the two clans intermarry and share the wealth. The brothers, however, insisted that Shechem and his entire clan become circumcised, as is the Hebrew tradition going back four thousand years. In his desire and passion for Dinah, Shechem agreed and convinced his clansmen to join him. “And every male was circumcised” (Genesis 34:24).
Shimon and Levi knew that the third day after surgery was the most painful, and that would give them the greatest advantage. “On the third day, when they were in pain, two sons of Jacob, Shimon and Levi, Dinah’s brothers, each took his sword and turned on the city. They were confident, and they killed all the males…and they took Dinah from the house of Shechem and they left” (Genesis 34:25-26). We see from this verse that Dinah was in “the house of Shechem”; she was being held hostage. Our rabbis say that Shimon and Levi are given the honor of being referred to as “Dinah’s brothers” because they acted as brothers; they came to her rescue in her hour of need.
Jacob was troubled by this act, not because of the act itself, but by the fact that “I am but few in number, they will gather against me and attack me” (Genesis 34:30). The brothers retorted with their own perspective, “Shall we allow our sister to be treated as a harlot” (Genesis 34:31). “Let this be a warning to all who want to make harlots of our sisters” (Rabbi Yeheskel Kahane, Brooklyn, New York, 20th century).
Rabbi E. Perr of Brooklyn offers the following insight, “One act does not make a woman a harlot, so why do the brothers use the term harlot? Because if they would not act now, surely this violation would repeat itself again and again until she in fact would become a harlot. They had to act now to nip it in the bud, to show that the sons of Jacob would not tolerate such behavior.” As a small clan they had to make a big stand.
Just a few verses later, we see the practical results of this policy, “And they traveled, and the fear of God was upon the cities around them and they did not chase after the sons of Ya’akov” (Bereshith 36:5). Shimon and Levi understood the nature of their neighbors and that only a daring act of force would bring them freedom from future attacks. They knew that their bold action would not soon be forgotten.
Throughout the Bible we find many weapons mentioned—the sword, spear, bow and arrow, and various daggers. Other weapons appear occasionally, such as a slingshot and a jawbone. There is mention of body armor, chariots, and cavalry. One unique aspect is the use of horns.
The ancient Israelites, or children of Israel, faced many enemies and all indications are that they were a warlike nation. Kings such as David and Saul regularly led the troops in battle. Even the prophet Samuel was handy with the sword. The Bible teaches that the ideal ruler should combine this necessary war readiness with softness. The ideal leader is a warrior/scholar—a man who combines the virtues of a holy man with the practical requirements of war.
The Stone
There is no doubt that the stone was one of the earliest weapons used, and its use goes back to antiquity. The stone was not only commonly available, but did not involve any work to prepare it as a weapon. Stones were used with slingshots, as in the famous episode with David and Goliath. The biblical text speaks of stones, “shooting stones,” that were thrown at the enemy by using a slingshot make of leather or a strong cloth material. The tribe of Benjamin is noted in particular as being adept at the use of this weapon. “Every one of them could sling a stone at a hair and not miss” (Judges 20:5).
A sword required close contact, but the slingshot could be used from a safe distance, however, this required great skill and considerable practice. We read in the book of Kings that the king of Moab rebelled against Israel. The kings of Israel called for a man of God, Elisha the prophet, “and the hand of God came upon him.” Elisha gives them instructions on how to fight Moab, which include “And you shall smite every fortified city and every choice city and shall fell every good tree, and stop all wells of water, and mar every good piece of land with stones. Every man threw a stone into each fertile field, so that it was covered over; and they stopped up every spring and felled every fruit tree. Only the walls of Hareshet were left, and then the slingers surrounded it and attacked it” (Kings II 3:19, 25).
As a matter of general practice, throwing stones from the top of the walls was the first line of defense against an invader or an attacker mounting a siege, (this was still done in the days of the Masada fortress in the battle against the Romans in 73 -74 CE). Therefore, stones were always prepared and at the ready on top of the walls. “And Uzziyyahu prepared for them throughout all the host shields, and spears, and helmets, and coats of mail, and bows, and stones for slinging. And in Jerusalem he made engines, invented by skillful men, to be on the towers and upon the bulwarks, to shoot arrows and great stones” (Chronicles II 26:14-15).
Stones at the Masada fortress, remains of the struggle nineteen
hundred years ago
Among the stones that were used for warfare, one can distinguish several different shapes and sizes. For example, when the Bible discusses the law of the murderer (Numbers 35:16) several weapons are mentioned including “and if he smite him by hand with a stone.” The Hebrew phrase “even yad” is not totally clear. This was apparently a stone with some sort of handle, or it is possible that it was a sort of Stone Age type brass knuckle. Or it could simply mean a common stone that was small enough to be held by hand, the type that one can find on the ground.
The Fist
The fist is mentioned, but not as a weapon of war. It is mentioned in the context of two men fighting, quarreling. “And if men strive together, and one hit another with a stone or with an egrof (fist)…” (Shemoth, Exodus 21:18). The word used in Hebrew is egrof. In modern Hebrew, this is the word we use for fist, but when this verse was being interpreted by the rabbis of the 11th and 12th centuries it was not at all clear what this biblical verse meant. Some felt it meant some type of stone. Rabbi Abraham Ibn Ezra felt it meant a sweeping motion “as one who grabs something in his hand and sweeps.” Rabbi Moshe son of Nachman (Spain, 12th century) writes, “It is the hand where the fingers are gathered together into the palm in order for one to hit with it.” He then compares the types of weapons mentioned in this verse, the stone and the fist, and says both require a certain force, unlike a sword. When making a judgment as to the damage the aggressor owes the victim, the presiding judges need to ascertain how much force was used. The stone and fist are similar in that depending on the force used and the part of the body struck, both can or cannot, cause death. Thus, we see that the fist was seen as a potentially deadly weapon, and a skilled practitioner could kill his opponent with a punch.
Noise and Horns
Self-defense expert, Professor Arthur Cohen, often says that loud, sudden noises are one of the things we fear most. It startles us and causes momentary confusion. It is an excellent self-defense tool; easy to use, very effective, and creates a window of opportunity for either escape or attack.
The ancient fighters of Israel were aware of this. They always went into battle with horns. In the famous battle of Jericho, the fighters circled the city seven times, blowing horns. The Bible records that this actually caused the walls of Jericho to come tumbling down. “And it shall come to pass, that when they make a long blast with the ram’s horn, when you hear the sound of the horn, all the people shall shout with a great shout; and the wall of the city shall fall down flat” (Joshua 5).
In the book of Judges, we read that the angel of the Lord came to the town of Ofra and found the young man, Gideon, threshing wheat. “And the angel of the Lord appeared to him, and said to him, ‘The Lord is with thee, thou mighty man of valor’” (Judges 6). The angel appoints Gideon to battle the Midianites. Gideon accepts the mission. “So Gideon and his men came to the edge of the camp in the middle of the night…and they blew the ram’s horns, and broke the jars that were in their hands. The three companies blew on the horns and smashed the jars and held torches in their left hands…and they shouted ‘The sword of the Lord, and of Gideon’…and all the camp (of Midian) ran and fled. And the three hundred blew the horns, and the Lord set every man’s sword against his fellow throughout all the camp” (Judges 7).
A surprise attack in the dead of night, the use of loud, sudden noise caused by blowing trumpets and smashing jars, charging in with flaming torches and drawn swords—all these added up to victory. The much smaller force of Israel was thus able to defeat and rout the larger force of Midian. The “sword of the Lord and of Gideon” was the battle cry, symbolizing the spiritual and the physical elements.
In Bamidbar (the Book of Numbers) we find a similar approach and the value attached to noisemaking instruments, as it is written, “And Moshe sent them to war, a thousand of every tribe, them and Pinhas the son of Elazar the priest, to the war, with the holy instruments, and the trumpets to blow in his hand. And they warred against Midian and they slew all the males. And they slew the kings of Midian” (Bamidbar 31).
The Sword
The most often mentioned weapon in the Bible is the sword—it was the standard sidearm. “David said to his men, ‘Let each man gird his sword.’ And they girded on every man his sword; and David also girded on his sword” (Samuel I 25). When building the Temple, the men were concerned about attacks, so they were armed. “For the builders, everyone had his sword girded by his side, and so he built” (Nehemiah 4).
Yoav, Son of Tzruya, was commander in chief; “Yoav was girded with his military coat, and upon it was strapped his sword fastened around his waist in its sheath” (Samuel II 20).
Spear, Bow and Arrow, Sword and Shield, Javelin
Both the spear and bow are mentioned frequently throughout the Bible, “And Saul raised the spear” (Samuel I 18). “I stationed them according to their families, with their swords, their spears, and their bows” (Nehemiah 4). “The bow of Jonathan turned not back and the sword of Saul returned not empty” (Samuel II 1). “To teach the children of Yehuda the use of the bow, behold it is written in the book” (Ibid.).
King Saul died at the hands of the feared enemy archers. “The battle went hard against Saul, and the archers hit him, and he was greatly in dread of the enemy archers” (Samuel I 31:3). “The sons of Re’uven, and the Gadi, and half the tribe of Menashe, of men at arms, able to bear shield and sword, and to draw the bow, and skillful in war” (Chronicles I 5). “And the Lord said to Joshua, ‘Stretch out the javelin that is in thy hand toward ‘Ay’; for I will give it into thy hand’” (Joshua 8).
Sticks and Stones
While it is clear that professional warriors carried swords, the non-warrior was not adept with this weapon. Young David, long before he came to be king, was not yet of military age. He was just a boy when he heard about the giant Goliath mocking the armies of “the living God” and challenging the Israelites to a contest of strength and courage.
“Why should you come out to engage in battle? I am the Pelishti (Philistine) and you are servants to Shaul (Saul), choose a man for yourselves and let him come down to me. If he beats me and kills me, then we will all be your servants, but if I prevail against him and kill him, then you shall be our servants and serve us. And the Pelishti said ‘I defy the ranks of Israel this day; give me a man that we may fight together.’ When Shaul and all Israel heard these words they were dismayed and filled with terror” (Samuel I 17:8-11).
This taunting took place for forty days. Three of David’s older brothers were soldiers. His elderly father sent him to inquire about his brothers. “And Yishay said to David his son, ‘Take now for your brothers an efa of this parched corn, and these ten loaves, and run to the camp to your brothers; and carry these ten cheeses to the captain…and inquire of your brothers’ welfare’” (Samuel I 17:17).
David came to the front lines and heard the arrogant challenge of Goliath, mocking the armies of Israel. David said, “Who is this uncircumcised Philistine that he should taunt the armies of the living God” (Samuel I 17:26). He was furious and decided to accept Goliath’s challenge. He went to Saul, the king, who was commanding the troops and said “Let no man’s heart fail because of him; your servant shall go and fight this Philistine” (Samuel I 17:32).
Saul said to young David, “You art not able to go up against this Philistine to fight with him for you art but a youth, and he is a man of war from his youth” (Samuel I 17:33). David tells Saul that as a shepherd, he had to defend against a lion and a bear and he was not afraid of Goliath, despite his size and reputation.
At first Saul armed David as a warrior, “And Saul armed David with his armor, and he put a helmet of brass upon his head; also he clothed him with a coat of metal. And David girded his sword upon his armor but could not go.” David was not familiar with these items and did not feel comfortable fighting this way. He removed the entire outfit and instead, “He took his wooden staff in his hand, and chose five smooth stones out of the brook, and put them in a shepherd’s bag and his sling was in his hand, and he drew near the Philistine” (Samuel I 17:40).
The rest is history. Goliath had used psychological warfare and no one was willing to fight him. The young David was not familiar with fear. Alone in the woods with his flock of sheep he had battled lions and bears, since no one had taught him to fear them. He was not afraid of Goliath; he knew that every man could be beaten. This passage indicates that while a “man of war” could easily handle a sword and a spear, a common shepherd was more adept at the use of the wooden staff and the slingshot.
The stick is also mentioned in the book of Exodus, Shemoth, “And if a man smite his servant or his maid with a rod” (Exodus 21).
Jawbone
Sometimes unconventional, improvised weapons were used, such as the jawbone of a donkey. “Samson found a jawbone of a donkey, and took it and slew a thousand men with it” (Judges 15:15).
Armor
From the story of David, we see that the ancient Israelites used armor; from the descriptions of Goliath we learn about the armor of the Philistine warriors. “And there went out Goliath, of Gat, whose height was six cubits and a span. And he had a helmet of brass upon his head, and he was armed with a body armor of scale; and the weight of the body armor was five thousand shekels of brass. And he had brass upon his legs, and a javelin of brass between his shoulders. And the staff of his spear was like a weaver’s beam, and his spear’s head weighed six hundred shekels of iron” (Samuel I 17).
During the Second Lebanon War, there was a great tank commander called Benaya. The name brings back memories of another Benaya—he too was a warrior, but from many years ago. “Benaya the son of Yehoyada, the son of a valiant man of Qavze’el, who had done many acts; he slew two lionhearted men of Mo’av; and he went down and slew a lion in a pit in a time of snow. And he slew a Mizrian man, a man of great stature, five cubits high; and in the Mizrian’s hand was a spear like a weaver’s beam: and he went down to him with a staff, and plucked the spear out of the Mizrian’s hand, and slew him with his own spear…and David set him over his guard” (Chronicles I 11:22).
For the purposes of war, armies used horses and chariots. Many passages mention the chariots and cavalry of Egypt and the Philistines. “And the Philistines gathered themselves to fight with Israel, thirty thousand chariots and six thousand horseman” (Samuel I 13). When the children of Israel left Egypt, pharaoh, king of Egypt, came after them. “And he took his chariot, and took his people with him and he took six hundred chosen chariots” (Exodus 14). They later drowned in the sea. “And the waters covered the chariots and the horseman” (Ibid.).
I could not find any mention of the Israelite warriors using chariots or cavalry.
We see in the Bible effective use of spies sent to learn “the weaknesses of the enemy.” “And Joshua the son of Nun sent out of Shittim two men to spy secretly, saying, ‘Go view the land, and Jericho’” (Joshua 1).
Great value was placed on military strategy, the use of ambush, and siege. However, the ancient Hebrews always left one side of a city open; to allow for escape and a non-violent conclusion, unless there was a specific divine order to the contrary.
One of the most famous examples of biblical military strategy was the case of the city-state known as Ay. The first attempt to conquer Ay was met with defeat. The second attempt would prove successful. “Joshua chose thirty thousand men of valor, and sent them away by night. And he commanded them, saying, ‘Behold, you shall lie in wait against the city, behind the city: go not very far from the city, but be all of you ready. And I and all the people that are with me, will approach the city. And it shall come to pass, when they come out against us, as at the first, that we will flee before them, and we will have drawn them from the city; for they will say, ‘They flee before us, as at the first; therefore we will flee before them.’ Then you shall rise up from the ambush, and take possession of the city. For the Lord your God shall deliver it into your hands. And it shall be, when you have taken the city, that you shall set the city on fire’” (Joshua 7).
This plan was followed exactly and succeeded. A small group of Israelite soldiers attacked the city of Ay and drew out the overconfident forces who decided to chase them and wipe them out once and for all. Joshua himself led this group, just as modern Israeli commanders lead their troops in battle. Joshua and his men acted defeated and scared, “And Joshua and all Israel made as if they were beaten before them, and fled by the way of the wilderness. And the people that were in Ay were called out to pursue after them, and they pursued after Joshua and were drawn away from the city. And the Lord said to Joshua, ‘Stretch out the javelin that is in your hand toward Ay, for I will give it into thy hand.’ And Joshua stretched out the javelin that he had in his hand toward the city. And the ambush rose quickly out of their place, and they ran…and they entered the city, and took it and hastily set the city on fire. And the men of Ay looked behind them, they saw, and behold. The smoke of the city ascended up to the sky, and they had no power to flee this way or that way. And the soldiers of Israel that had fled to the wilderness turned back upon the pursuers…and they slew the men of Ay” (Ibid.).
CHAPTER 14
Post-Biblical Fighting
The fighting tradition of the people of Israel did not end with the closing of the biblical period. The year was 586 BCE. The capital, Jerusalem, and the Holy Temple, the center of Jewish life, were destroyed. The greater part of ten of the twelve tribes had been exiled and scattered. Of the remaining tribes most had been destroyed by war, famine, enslavement, and disease. Fugitive Israelites were killed by many enemies or handed over to the conquering Chaldeans (Babylonians). Judea was almost completely depopulated. And yet the people of Israel survived and would fight again, against all odds.
In 539 BCE, Babylon falls to Persia. Cyrus (Koresh) the Great defeats Babylon and allows the Israelites to return to the Land of Israel and rebuild Jerusalem and the Temple. It is significant that Cyrus is referred to as God’s Messiah, “God’s anointed one” (Isaiah 45:1). “Thus says God to his anointed, to Koresh.” Unlike modern times, the idea of a messiah is simply a redeemer of Israel and not a supernatural creature from heaven or a miracle doer.
The ancient people of Israel were a proud and fierce people, deeply spiritual and deeply committed to freedom and independence. With trust in God, they raised armies and fought those who came to oppress them.
In the year 168 BCE, the Syrian Greek king, Antiochus Epiphanes, sought to impose a policy of spiritual genocide and assimilation on the people of Israel. He was determined to uproot the ancient religion of the Jews. The Jewish state was attacked; the Holy Temple defiled with idols. Evil decrees backed by the military might of the most powerful army of its day forced Jews to worship heathen idols, eat the flesh of the forbidden swine, and refrain from observing the holy Sabbath day. The Jewish tradition of circumcising all boys was outlawed. “The king issued a decree throughout his kingdom that they should all become one people and abandon their own laws and religion…sacrificing to idols and profaning the Sabbath…they must leave their sons uncircumcised, and defile themselves…whoever would not obey the order of the king was to die” (Maccabees 1).
The revolt, led by a band of farmers/warriors of deep faith, has almost no parallel in human history. It was a true liberation movement. “In those days Mattathias, son of Yohanan, son of Simeon, a cohen (priest) of the family of Yoarib, moved from Jerusalem and settled in Modiin. He had five sons.” Mattathias the priest and his sons rose up and led a national liberation movement. They were known as the Hasmoneans or the Maccabees. The elder Mattathias shouted out, “Whoever is for God, come with me! It was then that they were joined by a company of devout followers, strong Israelite loyalists, each one willingly offering himself in the cause of Jewish law” (Maccabees 2).
In an age of mercenaries or men who were raised to be warriors, the army of Mattathias the elder was like no other of its time. The men were neither mercenaries nor professional full-time soldiers; they were simple farmers, gentle scholars, devoted to Jewish law and values, to God. They were citizen/soldiers. These men took up the sword, as had their biblical fathers before them, to fight for freedom. Mattathias began by tearing down pagan altars, and reinforcing Jewish law.
As Mattathias grew old and was ready to die, he called forth his sons and inspired them with the stories of bravery and faith from Abraham to the present. “Was not Abraham faithful in time of trial…Pinhas, our ancestor, for his zeal…consider how throughout every generation, none who trust in Him lack strength.” (Pinhas was his ancestor as all cohanim, the Cohen family, are related.) Leadership of the revolt was passed to his son, Judah, known as the Maccabee. “Judah Maccabee has been strong and brave from his youth. He shall be your captain and fight the people’s war…repay the pagans for what they have done, heed the laws of the Torah. Then Mattathias blessed them and was gathered to his fathers” (Maccabees 2:51-68).
It is not known for certain what the word Maccabee means. Nowhere else is it used. It is believed that it means “The Hammer.” Judah the Hammer would lead the freedom fighters in battle against the greatest power of the day. Apollonius, leader of Samaria, gathered a large army to fight against Israel. Judah heard of this and marched out to meet him in battle “and he defeated and killed him.” Judah took the sword of Apollonius, and fought with it for the rest of his life (Maccabees 3:12).
Judah’s soldiers were known as faithful men, devoted to Jewish law, brave, and experienced in the art of warfare. They won battle after battle, defeating larger forces. “The fear and dread of Judah and his brothers began to spread among the pagans around them” (Maccabees 3:25).
King Antiochus Epiphanes was enraged. He gathered the largest army possible, “All the forces of his empire, a very powerful expedition.” The forces of Judah the Maccabee were badly outnumbered. He and his men placed their faith in God and prepared for war. Judah spoke to his men, “Prepare yourselves for action and show yourselves to be brave men. Be ready at dawn to fight against the pagans who are gathered together against us, to destroy us and our Holy Place” (Maccabees 3).
The king’s troops, led by Gorgias, came to attack the camp of Judah, but they had left. At daybreak, Judah and his troops came to attack another pagan camp. “Judah’s men sounded their trumpets and attacked.” They routed the pagans and killed about three thousand men. When Gorgias and his troops returned to camp and found the victorious army of Judah, they fled (Maccabees 4:13).
The king gathered an even larger force, sixty thousand troops. Judah with his ten thousand men defeated them, killing five thousand men. The Greek commander, Lysias, feared the bravery of Judah and his men. “When Lysias saw that his army was routed, and that Judah had grown bold, and was ready either to live or to die nobly, he departed” (Maccabees 4:34).
In the year 164 BCE, Judah and his brothers took back Jerusalem and rededicated the holy Temple. Judah said to the warriors, “Now that our enemies are crushed, let us go up to Jerusalem to purify the Holy Place” (Maccabees 4:36). The holiday of Hanukah (rededication) commemorating this event, is observed by Jews to this very day.
The enemy continued to send forces. In the year 161 BCE, in a lopsided battle, Judah the Maccabee was killed. The enemy numbered twenty thousand foot soldiers and two thousand cavalry. Judah had barely three thousand men. Judah refused to surrender or retreat, “If my day to die has come, it will be with honor” (Maccabees). The men pleaded with Judah to back down and retreat, but Judah would not hear of it. His brothers Yonatan and Shimon took over.
By the year 142 BCE, complete Jewish independence was finally secured under the last of the surviving brothers, Simon, who signed a formal peace treaty with the Greeks. Countless Jews had died martyrs, fighting bravely against the enemy. The Syrian Greeks had finally realized they could not defeat the people of Israel, despite vastly superior forces.
After the Greeks came the Romans. The Romans conquered everything in their path, including the Land of Israel. But the stubborn Jewish warrior nation would not be quiet.
Perhaps no other war shows the spirit of this nation of warriors more than the Great Revolt, for in this case we have a written document of the conditions they faced. This comes in the form of the great speech delivered by Agrippa the Second.
The Jewish people had been provoked by Roman governors who were creating excuses for more massacres. Indeed, the Jewish people had every right to be free and to live by the Torah, but Agrippa knew that the situation was hopeless. His speech was a work of art. Step by step, he outlined the logic of the situation.
Think of the Athenians…the liberty of Greece…think of the Macedonians. Other nations…bursting with greater determination to assert their liberty, no longer exist. Will you refuse to serve the masters of the whole world?
Where are the men, where are the weapons you count on? Where is the fleet that is to sweep the Roman seas? Where are the funds to pay for your expeditions? Do you think you are going to war with Egyptians and Arabs? Look at the far-flung empire of Rome and contrast your own weakness.
How justly Bithynia, Cappadocia, Pamphylia, Lycia, and Cilicia might demand liberty! Yet without armed pressure they pay their dues.
Then there are the Thracians, spread over a country five days’ march in width and seven in length, more rugged and much more defensible than yours, a country whose icy blasts are enough to halt an invader. Yet two thousand Roman guards suffice to maintain order.
Which of you has not heard of the Germans, with their inexhaustible manpower? You have, I am sure, seen their magnificent physique on many occasions, for on every side Roman masters have German slaves; yet this people occupies an immense area, their physique is surpassed by their pride, from the bottom of their hearts they despise death, and when enraged they are more dangerous than the fiercest of wild beasts. Yet the Rhine is the limit of their aggression and the Romans with eight legions have tamed them, enslaving the prisoners and driving the entire nation to seek refuge in flight.
Consider the defenses of the Britons, you who feel so sure of the defenses of Jerusalem. They are surrounded by the ocean and inhabit an island as big as the land which we inhabit, yet the Romans crossed the sea and enslaved them…
Almost every nation under the sun bows down before the might of Rome; and will you alone go to war, not even considering the fate of the Carthaginians, who boasted of great Hannibal and their glorious Phoenician ancestors, but fell beneath Scipio’s hand? (Flavius Josephus, The Jewish War, Penguin, New York, 1984, 8)
And yet, that is exactly what they did; against all odds, the people of Israel rose up and fought the Romans in a war that lasted four years. It took the Romans another three years to fully suppress the rebellion. The great Roman army was beaten back again and again until they sent for the finest Roman general, Vespasian, together with his son, Titus.
The outnumbered and out-armed Jews knew they had no chance in the open battlefield. They barricaded themselves in their towns. The Romans laid siege to town after town. Some towns fought heroically to the last man, other towns surrendered in order to save their lives. Those who escaped fled to Jerusalem, where they believed the redemption would begin.
In the spring of the year 70 CE, the Romans laid siege to Jerusalem. Titus led four top Roman legions. “The Romans, from the moment of their arrival, had the painful experience of the daring spirit of their opponents (the Jews). While the tenth legion, which had advanced from Jericho to Jerusalem, was still occupied with the strengthening of its camp on the Mount of Olives, it was attacked with such violence that it had well-nigh suffered an utter defeat” (Emil Schurer, The Jewish People in the Time of Jesus Christ, Div 1, Vol 2, 237).
The Romans battered the walls of the Holy Temple with their battering rams. “Jews took torches and threw themselves into the Romans’ machines. They went forward as if to greet a lover. No one exceeded this bravery. They jumped into the enemy’s machines and set them on fire, all the while arrows and stones were being shot at them. They did not attempt to leave the place of danger until the machines were set on fire. The bravery of the Jews set the Romans back” (Josephus, The Jewish War, 5:11).
The Romans built new batteries, the hunger within Jerusalem increased. Many Jews went up to the Holy Temple to wait for redemption; there they found their death. Titus could not break the walls of the Temple, so he ordered to burn the gates and break in from there. It took five months of siege for Titus to take the city of Jerusalem. Finally, the starved and exhausted defenders were taken. The city was burned and the population mostly slaughtered.
“Together they brought down the walls of Jerusalem and burned the Holy Temple, losing tens of thousands of legionnaires in the process. A million Jews fell in their struggle for Zion, but not in cattle cars or led to gas chambers. Rather in proud battle and, at the end, with the dignity and honor of Masada as the Jews—seeing that the final moment had come and having taken so many lives of the enemy—took their own, rather than be humiliated” (Meir Kahane, Listen Vanessa, I am a Zionist, Desert Ulpan, Tucson, Arizona, 1978). The revolt ended in the year 73 CE (or 74, there is uncertainty on this point) with the fall of the last Jewish stronghold, Masada.
The fortress Masada, located on an isolated mountaintop deep in the Judean desert, was built by Herod the Great years earlier. In the year 66 CE, the Jewish commander, Menachem, conquered the position from the Romans. His nephew, Elazar Ben Yair, together with a group numbering nine hundred sixty-six Jewish men, women, and children found refuge there.
Masada was surrounded by a huge Roman force, estimated at between eight up to fifteen thousand troops including the famous Roman Tenth Legion. The situation for the Jewish defenders looked bleak, but they used every means at their disposal to fight back. They had large stones to roll down on the Romans and they manufactured arrows at Masada itself.
Moshe looking upon Masada, the last stand of the Jews against the
Romans in the year 73 or 74
Although the Holy Temple in Jerusalem had already been destroyed and most of the country lay in ruin, a small number of Jews continued to fight back. As Americans would say nineteen hundred years later, it was a matter of “live free or die.” Under the command of Elazar, employing guerrilla warfare, the Jewish freedom fighters attacked the Roman garrisons whenever possible and then retreated to the safety of Masada.
In the year 73 or 74 CE, the Roman general, Flavius Silva, laid siege to Masada. After several months of siege with no results, he built a ramp to reach the top of the mountain and brought up a battering ram. When all hope was lost, the Jewish defenders took their own lives, denying the Romans their great victory.
Archaeological finds indicate that, without a doubt, these last defenders lived a life in strict accordance with Jewish law. Even as they were surrounded, night and day, by overwhelming forces intent on their destruction they continued to observe the minutest details of Jewish law and custom. Like their ancestors before them, they were “men of God and men of war.”
The physical evidence found by archaeologists teaches us that the biblical laws of tithes were strictly observed. A potsherd was found with the Hebrew words, “ma’aser cohen” meaning the tithe for the cohen, the priest. This is living evidence that biblical laws of tithes were observed on Masada. Numerous ritual baths were found, indicating that biblical laws of family purity were maintained. Parts of biblical scrolls were found and many other religious artifacts. In the shadow of death, these Jews sanctified life.
In the year 114 CE, the Romans conquered many areas with large Jewish populations. Some estimate as many as one million Jews lived in these areas. In the years 115-117, the Jews of Libya (Cyrenaica), Cyprus, Egypt, and other areas would rise up against their Roman oppressors in another bloody revolt. This war began in the Diaspora and was mainly fought by the Jews outside of Israel, but it soon spread to Israel as well. In Jerusalem, the Jews were provoked by the Roman procurator, Lucius Quietus, who set an idol up on the Temple Mount, where the Holy Temple belonged.
Known as “The Rebellion of the Diaspora” or “The War of Kitos,” this too would be brutally put down, but not before the Jews caused untold damage to the Romans. “When their resentment finally broke out with ferocious violence in different parts of the eastern Mediterranean, the uprising caught the Romans by surprise” (Martin Goodman, Rome and Jerusalem, Random House, New York, 2007, 454).
“The Jews in the region of Cyrene had put a certain Andreas at their head, and were destroying both the Romans and the Greeks” (Cassius Dio, The Collected Works of Cassius Dio, Halcyon Press, Aukland, 2010).
By all accounts, this was considered extremely violent even compared with the other revolts. The Jews were angry and attacked, causing great damage. The revolt was described as “unprecedented not just in its savagery but in its geographic spread” (Ibid., 457). The Jews, perhaps as revenge, destroyed or damaged many pagan temples; of Apollo, Zeus, Demeter, Artemis, and Isis. The Roman general, Lucius Quietus, eventually crushed the rebellion. It was his name, Quietus, misspelled Kitos, which gave the war/revolt one of its names.
Hadrian was appointed Roman emperor and needed to put an end to this chaos and bring some calm. He had Quietus put to death in 118 CE on charges of conspiracy, and made promises to the Jews that he would allow them to rebuild the Temple, Beth HaMikdash.
Despite the vast destruction and massive loss of life, the Jews of Israel would rise again and stage one last brilliant revolt.
The end of Jewish Independence until the rebirth of the State of Israel.
The Jewish tradition of fierce independence and a warrior nation continued, despite being outnumbered and despite the devastation of the previous revolt/war against Rome. In the year 117, Hadrian was appointed emperor of the Roman Empire, ruling Rome and the conquered lands from 117 to 138. Only one war was fought during his reign and that was the Third Roman-Jewish War in Judea; it consumed all his men and all the might of the Roman Empire.
Hadrian’s policies in Judea led directly to the Bar Kochba revolt. Hadrian did not care for the religions in this area. His policies affected both Jews and the early Christians, although most Christians did not join the war effort against Rome.
Hadrian built a large temple to the goddess, Venus, on top of what the early Christians venerated as the tomb of Yeshu (Jesus), whom they saw as the Messiah. This was done to suppress Christian worship there; later this site was rebuilt as the Church of the Holy Sepulcher after the Christian Empress Helena ordered the temple of Venus be demolished.
Hadrian, at first, seemed inclined to kindness toward the Jews. Matters changed, and he decided to build a Roman pagan city on the ruins of the city of Jerusalem, (destroyed by the Romans in 70 CE) the holy city of the Jews, and a temple to the pagan god, Jupiter, on the site of the Holy Temple. “The Judea that Hadrian had in mind was not to be Jewish at all: At Jerusalem he founded a city in place of the one which had been razed to the ground, naming it Aelia Capitolina, and on the site of the temple he raised a new temple to Jupiter” (Goodman, Rome and Jerusalem, 461). These actions were followed by harsh decrees such as a ban against Jews living in Jerusalem, a law against circumcision, and bans on the practice of the Jewish religion and the study of Torah.
Hadrian felt he should leave Jerusalem empty in order to avoid giving the Jews hope and an “invitation” to agitate for their former glory. This time, he would leave no doubt. Hadrian planted a pagan Roman colony on the site where the Jewish Temple once stood, thus making it quite clear that there was no chance of rebuilding the Temple any time soon. He turned the site of Jerusalem into a smaller version of Rome, filled with Roman religious practice and totally inhabited by gentiles. He felt these actions would cause the Jewish agitation to evaporate. He could not have been more wrong!
He did not understand the nature of the Jews and their fierce desire for independence and even more so for religious freedom. The Jews began to prepare for war. They were, at first, pacified by the words of one of the leading rabbis, Rabbi Joshua ben Hananiah, who urged restraint against the powerful enemy and discouraged another revolt, but soon they could take no more.
The commander of this revolt was a man known as Shimon Bar Kochba. His original name was Shimon Ben (or bar, son of) Kosba (pronounced Kosiba). Rabbi Akiva believed that Shimon was the Messiah, the anointed one, and called him Bar Kochba, Son of Star, as in the biblical verse “There shall come a star (kochab) out of Ya’akov (Jacob) and shall arise a tribe from Israel who shall smite the corners of Moav and destroy all the children of Sheth” (Numbers 24:17). Bar Kochba was a descendant of King David. According to Jewish tradition, all kings must be from the line of King David. Years later, some would refer to him as Bar Kosiva; kosiva means false, or one who falsely led the people to a doomed war.
The war would last three and a half years. He was determined not to repeat the mistakes of the previous Great Revolt. Unity among the Jewish fighters was a must, and was achieved. Organization and efficiency were impressive. Having the backing of the leading rabbis was essential, and this too was achieved. It is believed that none other than Rabbi Akiva was the spiritual force behind the revolt. Direct, conventional combat with the Romans was to be avoided.
General Shimon Bar Kochba was regarded as a brilliant tactician, a powerful man, a strict disciplinarian, and a messianic religious leader. Letters reveal that he was a devoutly religious man who went to great lengths to take care of the religious needs of his soldiers. In all the letters found, Bar Kochba is referred to as Shimon Ben Kosiba, president of Israel. In these letters, he deals with every aspect of the war and any disputes between people; issues of property, cattle, food, and how to deal with those who did not cooperate with the war effort. These discovered correspondences, found near the Dead Sea, also reveal that he personally adhered strictly to the laws of the Torah. It is truly amazing that actual letters written by Bar Kochba were found—signed by him! The climate in the Dead Sea area is uniquely dry and perfect for preserving such material. They were found by Bedouin nomads in caves deep in the Judean desert.
Along with letters, the researchers later found, deep in the mountains, piles of bones and skulls; the remains of some of Bar Kochba’s fighters who died of starvation while hiding in the mountains. In one cave, seventeen skeletons were found; men, women, and children. So we now know that entire families, not only fighters, hid out in these caves. They had all starved to death.
Carpets and clothing were also found among the remains. This gave us insight into the clothing of the time. It was found that the biblical laws of sha’atnez were strictly adhered to. Sha’atnez refers to “mingled garment” or a garment made of wool and linen. “Neither shall a garment mingled of linen and wool come upon thee” (Leviticus, Wayiqra 19:19). It was also found that the clothing had a particular type of stripes, amazingly similar to the stripes still found in the tallith, (prayer shawl) worn by Jewish men to this very day! Prayer shawls were also found, but they lacked the ritual fringes. “Speak to the children of Israel and tell them to make fringes in the corners of their garments” (Bamidmar 15:37). This can be explained by the fact that fringes must be removed when one is near the dead. Even today, when in a cemetery, a Jew is required to tuck in his ritual fringes.
Researchers found partially completed fringes, indicating that the inhabitants followed the biblical laws of ritual fringes, even in their most difficult circumstances. There was also a distinct difference found between men’s garments and those worn by women, again a biblical law. Arrowheads were found in the caves, as well as coins minted during the Bar Kochba revolt; on one side engraved with “Shimon” and the other side “for the freedom of Jerusalem.”
The cooking utensils found in the cave were another indication of the religious piety of Bar Kochba’s followers. In one tied bag, nineteen different cooking utensils (pots and pans) were found. What surprised the archaeologists was that they had pagan images on them—clearly prohibited by Jewish law! “Thou shalt not make for thyself any carved idol or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath” (Exodus, Shemoth 20:3). Upon closer examination, it was determined that all the images had been scratched, or partially rubbed out. In some cases, the rubbing out was very clear, in other cases only the nose of the creature was wiped out. All this fits in perfectly with the laws written in the Talmud, that one may use a utensil belonging to any idol worshiper as long as it is deformed. “How does one erase it? Break the edge of the ear, the head of the nose, the head of a finger, even if not complete—it is ‘canceled’” (Talmud, Tractate Idol Worship, Avodah Zara).
These utensils had been Roman and were probably taken by Bar Kochba’s men during one of their victories. Some of the utensils were used by the Romans as part of their idol worship ceremonies. Many Jewish laws, some on the books until today, date back to those days and are designed to keep Jews away from idol worship, so prevalent at the time. For example, Jews are prohibited from drinking wines of Gentiles out of suspicion that perhaps these wines were used for the wine libation in idol worship ceremonies. The caves also contained fragments of written texts. The first found, by a young man named Shlomo, was a fragment that read, “Who shall abide in thy tent. Who shall…uprightly and acts justly…not slander” It was just a fragment, but it was certainly Psalms, chapter 15. The warriors of General Bar Kochba had been reading the Psalms of the Bible. Sadly, the young man, Shlomo, would also die in combat, like his heroes in the Bar Kochba war. He was killed in action during the Six Day War of 1967, he fought with great bravery and self-sacrifice, much like those he so admired.
Perhaps the most amazing discovery were the packages of letters dictated by Bar Kochba himself. Written in Aramaic and Hebrew, they give orders about supplies and policy. Some of the letters pertain to religious obligations such as providing the four species for Sukkoth, (the Feast of Tabernacles). In one letter, he orders a certain man sent to him, but emphasizes that he is to arrive before the Sabbath begins.
General Bar Kochba and his men prepared well for this rebellion. They decided not to use the failed tactic of the “Great Rebellion” of holding out in fortified cities. Instead, they would fight in the open field, but in an unconventional way. Bar Kochba and his fighters developed a new form of warfare—guerrilla warfare. The Jews knew they were terribly outnumbered and could not fight the Romans in the open field.
The fighters converted the caves in the mountains into hiding places and fortifications which they connected by subterranean passages. Every effort was made for a sustained and successful war. They spent years digging underground caves. These caves served both the soldiers and the general population. They were hidden and not visible on the outside. These caves contained many rooms and passageways, air ventilation, living quarters, vast supplies; weapons, food, and water.
They would ambush and surprise small groups of Roman troops and return to their underground dwellings. When the Roman forces approached, the Jewish forces disappeared into the hidden underground caves. The Romans lost tremendous numbers of their finest troops until they learned how to conduct anti-guerrilla warfare. They eventually discovered the hidden caves and set fires in them. Archaeologists found caves with dozens of bodies in them; all burned to death.
The rebellion succeeded at first; the Jews reestablished their independence and minted new coins of freedom. The new state was named Israel; a name the Romans refused to use when they referred to the Jews. In this war, the Jewish forces did not wait in the cities, they took the initiative and attacked the Roman forces everywhere. Tinius Rufus and his men had to flee to Caesarea. The Roman twenty-second legion was beaten so badly, it was never mentioned again in the Roman chronicles.
The Romans sent in more legions and better generals. Hadrian took personal command, thus drawing in the greatest military minds of his age. They learned the tactics of the Jews and slowly beat them back. The Jews had to flee to fortified cities. Sieges were laid and destruction followed. “The (Roman) victory was won indeed at a very heavy cost. So great were the losses that Hadrian in his letter to the Senate omitted the usual introductory formula, that ‘he and the army were well’” (Schurer, The Jewish People in the Time of Jesus Christ, 314).
Five hundred eighty thousand Jews died in the war—martyrs in a struggle for independence. The destruction of the Jewish community was so great that no further rebellions were attempted. Only small pockets of Jewish independence continued to exist. Areas formerly inhabited by a Jewish majority would now become Christian areas, as the Christians had not joined in the struggle and had rejected Rabbi Akiva’s idea that Bar Kochba might be the Messiah.
The rebellion was crushed and all hope was lost, but the Jewish bravery would not be forgotten. “In the face of an almost total peace, quiet, and tranquility inspired by the universal awe and fear of the mighty legions of Caesar, the Jews, the Zionists—living in Zion, their home—rose up against Roman oppression of body and soul and revolted. Under the sainted and martyred Rabbi Akiva and the legendary general Shimon Bar Kochba, they drove the Roman armies from Jerusalem, from Judea, sending the Roman governor Tinius Rufus along with the governor of Syria, Publius Marcellius, and the legions rushed from Egypt, scattering in flight. It was only a desperate call to the greatest of the generals of Rome, Julius Severus, arriving from far off Britain with legions from the Danubian lands that forced the Jews back step by step, with ferocious struggle and heavy losses to the stupefied Romans. Bitterly these Jewish warriors fought and bitterly they died. Stubbornly they struck at the invader of their land—the aggressors and imperialists of imperial Rome, and blood washed the paths and streets of the mountain-city of Bethar where the beleaguered Jews of freedom, retreated for the final battle—to die or to conquer the land, their land, Zion” (Kahane, Listen Vanessa, I am a Zionist).
The Jew and his land; bound by Divine promise, blood, sweat, toil, and tears. The memory of these struggles would never die, they would be passed on from generation to generation, from soul to soul wherever the Jew wandered, wherever he found his temporary home…until someday another Jewish soldier would return, to this very same land and continue this very same struggle for freedom and independence.
Not much is recorded from this time. We know that Bar Kochba died during the rebellion The oral history was that a certain Cuthean brought his head to Hadrian, the Roman ruler. Hadrian was a great admirer of the Jewish general. He asked the man, “Who killed him?”
The man said, “I killed him.”
Hadrian said, “Let me see his body.” Upon examining the body, Hadrian saw that Bar Kochba had a snake wrapped around him and had actually died from a snake bite. Hadrian said, “Had it not been that God killed him, who could have ever killed him?”
The sources from this period are weak and meager and it is often difficult to separate fact from legend. Perhaps it was the hundreds of years of exile, oppression, and yearning that would turn Bar Kochba into a legend of Jewish bravery, a national hero. Stories were told of his incredible strength, pulling trees out with their roots while riding on a horse, bouncing the heavy stones fired by the Romans off his knees back at the enemy.
The legend of Bar Kochba would inspire Jewish children during the long, dark years of the exile. On a certain holiday, Lag Ba Omer, the children would play with bows and arrows, reenacting the Jewish revolt, dreaming of returning to their homeland. For a moment they were warriors again, back in their homeland, soldiers of the great Bar Kochba, president of Israel, Nasi Yisrael, hiding out in the Judean Desert, striking fear in the Roman legions. They would dream of return, even though it was far off.
And return they would, after a long, dark night of unspeakable horrors, they would return home. The Jew would return to his land; he would pick up the sword of Bar Kochba again and reclaim what was his. The Romans would be relegated to the dustbin of history, empires would rise and fall, but the Jew would never forget his homeland, he would return…but first, he would wander the earth for close to two thousand years, an “exiled man” with no home to call his own. He would become the “wandering Jew,” a pariah among nations, hated by all, moving from one country to another, wherever he could find some temporary peace; some rest from persecution. Sometimes he would be a welcome guest, sometimes a tolerated taxpaying foreigner, and sometimes a hated enemy. He would be hated for being “different.” He would be despised for trying to fit in. But he would never forget his roots, he would never forget who he is, he would never forget his true name or his home.
The Roman, Hadrian, tried to erase the memory of the Jew from “The Land.” He would rename Jerusalem, Aelia Capitlina, he would rename Judea “Philistia” (Palestine, and thus years later giving the name to the false nation of “Palestinians”), and he would forbid the Jews, on pain of death, to enter Jerusalem. But the Jew would never forget, the Jew would never forget. “If I forget thee O Jerusalem let my right hand forget its skill. If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth; if I do not set Jerusalem above my highest joy” (Psalm 137).
Jerusalem, the word would be uttered every day in prayer, the word would be uttered whenever a Jew said the blessing after a meal, it would be remembered under the wedding canopy as a glass was smashed to remember the destruction of Jerusalem. Jerusalem, Jerusalem…if I forget thee…
Bethar was the last stronghold of the Jews. The bones found in the caves were followers of Bar Kochba, probably some of those who escaped from Bethar when all hope was lost. They had hoped for help, for reinforcements, but none could come. They starved to death in these caves and their bones lay there. Empires rose and fell and others rose in their place and these bones lay untouched, their souls still hovering where they once fought so bravely; the remnants of the freedom army of Israel.
Hadrian was wrong, the Jews did not disappear, and Bar Kochba was not forgotten. Eighteen hundred and twenty-six years would pass, and their spiritual descendants did come to get them. Yigael Yadin, the archaeologist, (and former chief of staff of the IDF) and a team of students and soldiers found the remains of these brave warriors. The remains were finally removed from the caves and buried according to Jewish custom and ritual. These warriors were given an official state funeral with full military honors, eighteen hundred and twenty-six years after they died. The burial was witnessed by members of the new army of Israel, the new army of liberation. One generation of warriors was honoring another. The great warriors of Bar Kochba’s army were finally laid to rest, by soldiers of the free and independent State of Israel; our hope is not lost.
Bar Kochba had fought for an idea and an ideal and these survived. The final victory was his. He believed in something greater than himself and this idea survived his physical demise. In the end, the Romans could not crush the spirit of the Judeans. In the end, they could not sever the ties between the people of Israel and the Land of Israel. The stories of Bar Kochba would be passed down from generation to generation and the spark remained alive. Today, Bethar is a thriving city in the modern State of Israel, and the new army of Israel, and the people of Israel lives.
Some of Bar Kochba’s men would find refuge in the lands of Arabia.
The flame of revolt was never extinguished. At every opportunity, whenever the circumstances permitted, the Jews formed alliances and attacked their oppressors. The goal was always the same—religious and political freedom, and to return to Jerusalem.
Jewish Revolt Against Gallus in the Land of Israel – 351 CE
The Jews of Israel never accepted their status as a conquered people. In the year 351, the Roman emperor, Constantius Gallus II, showed a strong preference for the Christian religion. This was expressed in many ways such as allowing Christians to persecute the pagans and the Jews. Christian clergy practiced intolerance toward non-Christians, attacked pagan temples and Jewish synagogues, and actively sought to convert Jews to Christianity.
The Jews, under Yitzhak of Sippori, (Sippori was a town in the Galilee) attacked the Roman garrison. The revolt spread to other cities. Gallus sent in his men and the uprising was violently suppressed; entire towns were destroyed.
Jewish Self-Defense and Independence in Babylon (Iraq) – 513 CE
“The new exilarch, Mar Zutra II, did not obtain the right to autonomous self-defense from King Kovad (r488-531 CE). He raised an army including an elite group of four hundred soldiers for the defense of the Jewish community. Being denied autonomy, he declared independence. He succeeded in maintaining an independent state for seven years (513-520 CE), collecting revenue even from the non-Jewish population of Iraq. Active measures by King Kovad put an end, at length, to the exilarch’s state: Mar Zutra, only twenty-two years of age, and Mar Hanina were crucified (520) on the bridge of Machoza, his capital; and his infant son, Mar Zutra III, was carried to Israel, where he founded a new line of Nasiim, Patriarchs” (Ben Abrahamson and Joseph Katz, “The Persian Conquest of Jerusalem,” www.eretzyisroel.org, accessed June 30, 2015).
Jews in the Persian Army, and the Victory Over the Byzantines in Jerusalem – 608 CE
In 602, the Roman army revolted and marched on the capital, with Phocas Augustus at its head. Soon after, Phocas was acclaimed as emperor. In 608, General Heraclius, in Africa, rebelled against Phocas. Civil war broke out in the Byzantine Empire. The Persian king, Khosrau, saw this is a great opportunity to attack the Byzantine Roman Empire. The Land of Israel, called Syria-Palestine at that time, was in between Persia and Egypt. He needed allies and troops. The Jews, always eager to fight for their homeland and return to Israel, could be natural allies.
“Khosrau developed a plan: he could gain Egypt, settle his domestic problems, and gain a powerful ally behind the lines of Roman troops if he declared the Jews be entitled to all their hereditary rights; more than this they could reclaim their ancestral homeland” (Ibid.). He placed a Jew, Nehemiah ben Hushiel, as symbolic leader of the Persian troops. It is said Nehemiah raised an army of twenty thousand Jews to fight alongside the Persians and liberate the Land of Israel. When the armies reached Israel, they were joined by local Jews. Benjamin of Tiberius was a key figure; a wealthy man who recruited and armed Jewish soldiers. Together, the Judeo-Persian army liberated Jerusalem in the year 614.
Nehemiah was appointed ruler of Jerusalem. Preparations began for the rebuilding of the Holy Temple. Genealogies were studied and sorted out in order to establish a new high priesthood. But this was not to be as Christians attacked Jerusalem, killed Nehemiah and his council, and the remaining Jews escaped to Caesarea.
The Jews and Persians returned and again attacked the Christians of Jerusalem. The Judeo-Persian forces took Jerusalem and killed the Christians and their monks. The land was free from the Christian yoke and it appeared that Israel would be independent again. This was to last only fourteen years.
The Roman response was swift. To counter the Jewish insolence, there was the largest ever meeting of Merovingian Bishops, the Fifth Council of Paris in Gaul (France). They decided that all Jews holding military or civil positions must accept baptism, together with their families. Massive Jewish persecutions began to occur throughout the Roman Empire.
Khosrau panicked and betrayed the Jews. The Persians withdrew their support and allowed the Romans to attack the Jews, killing an estimated twenty thousand Jews in Jerusalem in the year 619. The Roman general, Heraclius, then proceeded to rampage throughout Israel, killing every Jew in sight. Heraclius turned the site of the Temple into public latrines and a garbage dump. Muslims would no longer pray in this direction, but the Jews kept the faith, and continued to pray in the direction of Jerusalem, to this very day. Jerusalem, even in its shame, remained holy to the Jews.
During the years ahead, in nearly every land, from time to time a new false leader would arise—promising redemption. In 1160, it was David Alroy or Al-Rai, who was born in Kurdistan and declared himself a messiah. He asserted that he had been sent by God to free the Jews from the Muslim yoke and to lead them back to Jerusalem. In more recent times, there was the false messiah, Shabbatai Svi.
Some would claim prophecy, some would believe they were the Messiah, and some would claim descent from a king or past leader. Jews would become excited, sell their homes, and sometimes raise armies, and the results were disastrous.
“These movements did not arise at times of acute distress or trouble; they seem to have come at times of change, times of rising expectations. In fact, going against the conventional wisdom which associates messianic figures with times of deprivation, it can be argued on the basis of much evidence from Jewish history that messianic movements do not arise at times of great distress, but at times when hope is rising” (Ibid., 42).
Wisely, the rabbis began to discourage messianism. They knew the time was not yet right or ripe for redemption. They censored history and destroyed records of Jewish rebellions and wars. Emphasis was shifted to prayer. The Jew was encouraged to turn his eyes to heaven, and…wait.