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ajcsolidaity2006.org: occasioned by an ajc mission to israel during a unique and extraordinary time in history

personal musings about friendship, loss, uncertainty, hope

undaunted: a personal essay
28 july 2006

Fourteen days ago, my dear friend David died from a malignant brain tumor. For weeks prior to his death, I sat in vigil with his family as David slipped into terminal coma. In the end, his passing was quiet; his two year struggle had been brutal.

Mere hours after the conclusion of the Jewish mourning period of Shivah, when community gathers to honor the bereaved, I learned that the American Jewish Committee, a revered human rights organization, was sponsoring an immediate emergency mission to Israel.

The trip’s stated purpose was to express solidarity with Israel’s people, but also to learn directly about all aspects of the conflict - political, military, social, and humanitarian.

I am a physician and psychiatrist; my expertise is human behavior. Yet I was unclear about the intensity of my reaction to this invitation: I needed to go, even if I did not understand why.

Although I have been, and will always be, an advocate for the state of Israel, home of the Jewish people, sole democracy of the middle east, I have at times been critical of Israel’s policies, particularly sensitive to occasions of what I perceived to be unnecessary aggression and use of force.

So why did I go and what did I learn?

My teachers on this trip were highest level members of Israeli government, cabinet, ambassadors, military, as well as citizens with no official standing.

I return humbled by what I experienced.

I return recognizing that I was never in a position to judge.

I encountered a complex society who, while tired and saddened by 58 years of struggle for survival, are now stunningly united. The consequences of repeated unprovoked attacks within their borders, the value placed on the lives of their young soldiers, and ultimately, the recognition that the terrorist regime of Hezbollah would not be restrained by any other international entity: action became necessity.

I learned that proportionate military response is response proportionate to threat imposed and not to precipitating incident. What is proportionate response to a terrorist organization sheltering missiles in bedrooms, ready to use upon a citizenry within its own sovereign borders? As one Israeli military said: “this is not a pillow fight”. What is proportionate response to a terrorist organization, proxy for Iran, whose leader believes Allah envelops him in a halo to speak to him personally and who threatens nuclear weapons?

As we traveled. we bore witness to incredible dignity, courage, and determination of Israelis everywhere.

Missiles fell around us.

In Haifa, our meeting with the mayor began with instructions about how to proceed in case of missile warning. We had 60 seconds to move to shelter. Moments later, sirens rang. As we waited with him in a nearby hallway, the mayor smiled and told us if we used city services beyond a half hour, he would impose taxes.

In Ramban Medical Center, home of two Nobel scientists, we gathered with physicians in a protected setting until the all clear. We could only imagine the experience of those already hospitalized as rocket victims, again hearing sirens and explosions. While this time they were safe, we all knew there would be a next time. In that same hospital, we visited one of the soldiers assaulted by Hezbollah in the north. Two of his friends were abducted, three killed, he and another horribly injured. While physical wounds might heal, emotional wounds would be far more tenacious. He had begged to be killed, rather than be taken hostage. The day of attack was his last day of duty.

On our way to Haifa, we were stopped for an hour on the highway as military searched for a suicide bomber who had penetrated the northern border. He was apprehended 15 km away.

Further south we visited a town where 3000 rockets had fallen. There, the warning period was 15 seconds.

In a profoundly disturbing way, we quickly absorbed the drill, the experience of being in a war zone, becoming hypersensitive to sounds of impending attack, moving efficiently to places of physical safety, somehow continuing to conduct the business of life. We experienced the rapidly deadening effects of exposure to chronic stress: periods of confusion and uncertainty, periods of waiting (for what, we were never quite clear), the life force of black humor, but also, an extraordinary sense of purpose, clarity, calm, and meaning.

We visited an idyllic tent community on Israel’s most spectacular beach. It had been assembled in 72 hours as temporary refuge for school children who should have been enjoying summer vacation. Young volunteers provided counsel, as well as music and campfires. The setting was splendor; the tone festive, but subdued. These were not victims. These were a people tending to the psychological needs of its own.

Religious extremism, terrorism, and fundamental lack of respect for human life and freedom: these are not just Israel’s enemies. This is no longer Israel’s battle. This country is now engaged in a terrifying existential confrontation to preserve elemental values of civilization, not only for itself, but for us all.

So why did I go to Israel? Perhaps to be reminded that my friend David’s struggle with cancer was evidence of reverence for life. Perhaps to be reminded that there are many forms of malignancy. Perhaps to be inspired to be more vigilant and informed, and, in the end, to remember what makes life worth living.

dedicated to david, lenore, michael, alison, kayla, elihu

ronnie s stangler md is a physician and psychiatrist in private practice in seattle, and clinical professor, department of psychiatry and behavioral cciences, university of washington; she also serves on the board of the seattle chapter of the american jewish committee