Living in Israel: A Delicate Balance

The young people, the elders would and do say, have lost the pioneering spirit. By this the older generation means that the country's youth have tried of leading lives of rigid discipline, though danger seems as near as ever.

Driving through the Negev at night is like driving anywhere. The darkness obscures the rocky, barren plain that stretches out from the road, and it is impossible to see the rough peaks that rise sharply from the flat desert surface. It's just you and the highway, and the road could be the New Jersey Turnpike or a quiet strip in the country.

But at some point on this road you will be stopped by flashing lights. A solidier will walk up to you and command, "You must wait here until a convoy comes to escort you. Terrorists are active in the territory ahead." And so you are reminded again that the road is in Israel.

"Terrorism" is not the first word one would seize upon to describe Israel. Yet in a country most often characterized by a paradox and change, terrorism is one of the few constants. It is not particularly widespread, and one might think that Israelis would have little trouble going through a day without thinking about it. But they all do. Anything that happens to one Israeli because he is an Israeli affects the entire country.

The people of Israel are proud of this phenomenon, and the government is continually cultivating this no-man-is-an-island attitude. A short documentary on life on a Kibbutz was making the rounds in Tel Aviv during the summer. As documentaries go, this one was exciting. The early scenes of mine detection in plowed fields and men going to work with rifles at their sides led to the expectation that something momentous was about to happen. The terrorist attack by night ensured that the expectation was fulfilled. The purpose of the film, according to a young Israeli, was to let the people of the city know what it was like to live in the presence of danger.

As a result of such films and of newspaper accounts of actual events, the response to terrorism is nationwide. It is not unusual, anywher, to discuss individual personalities in terms of an intricate balance between fear and security, but the Israelis have taken that balance and have collectivized it. The people know what there is to fear, and military exhibitions, paratroop drops on the beaches of Tel Aviv, and the preponderance of soldiers provide the necessary feeling of security.

The citizens of Israel live this balance. In a country inhabited by people of such diverse origins, it is a powerful unifying force. But the balance is constantly being threatened by the forces of change within the country.

In early June, the kibbutz youth of the country gathered for a two-day conclave at the base of what used to be the Syrian Heights but is now called the Golan Heights. All young kibbtuzniks belong to a national movement of kibbutz youth, which holds four meetings a year to discuss the goals of their mode of living. The affair has all the trappings of a boy scout jamboree.

During one of the discussion sessions, a young kibbutznik of 16 or 17 rose and walked over to the banks of the Sea of Galilee, away from the rest of the group. Although reticent at first, he seemed eager to answer questions about his family, life on his kibbutz, and the movement in general.

"What is your group discussing?"

In mock-seriousness he replied, "Thev're discussing whether or not the movement should be continued."

"And what will they decide?"

"If thev're honest, they'll say 'no.'"

"Why?"

"Because the movement is too..."

And here he faltered, seeking a word he could not remember. After a long pause, he turned and inquired, "There are two political parties in England, the Labor Party and what's the other one?"

"The Conservative Party."

"That's it. The movement is too conservative."

The response of the older generation to the young kibbtuznik's challenge would be that the nation's youth have not known what it is to build a country from nothing. The young people, the elders would and do say, have lost the pioneering spirit. By this the older generation means that the country's youth are unwilling to lead lives of rigid discipline, though danger seems as near as ever.

The young kibbutznik's challenge is a threat to the curious national spirit the Israelis have created by establishing hope in the face of despair. But his charge of conservatism is particularly interesting to liberal Americans. For the militarism and super-patriotism so common in Israel are found only among the more conservative elements in American society. The context of the conservatism is obviously different in the two countries, and American excesses are a greater threat to world security than those of the Israelis. But it seems fair to ask if individuals are restricted by the assumption that certain pre-defined attitudes must be maintained to keep the country secure.

Occasionally these attitudes are questioned. During a trip to a wedding to be held right next to a large military exhibition, a young Israeli woman asserted that she didn't approve of the exhibition.

"There is too much militarism," she explained, "too much emphasis on war."

Her remarks were quickly disputed by an Israeli man traveling with her, "No, I disagree with you. The people hear all the news about the weapons the Russians are sending the Arabs. They need to know that we have weapons, too."

"But the parade was enough," she replied, referring to the controversial military parade through the streets of Jerusalem last May.

"No," her challenger stated simply, "the people are becoming scared again."

The discussion ended there. The man had clearly won his point. He had approached the debate not with condescension or anger, but with the patient attitude of the teacher who must explain a problem to a slow student. In the end the woman could not argue with the assumption that the balance between fear and security had to be preserved.

It would be unfair to suggest that the atmosphere in Israel is at all oppressive. Ultimately, no Israeli doubts that he must maintain a certain posture when confronting the constant threat from outside. The Israeli woman was probably not expressing dissatisfaction so much as fatigue.

Even the most dedicated Israeli feels an occasional urge for a brief respite from the anxiety. You cannot help but sense that the Israelis would be happier if everybody could get up in the morning and just for one day not have to worry about being tough or brave or proud. But this is not possible. For the restrictions that emerge from the people's strong nationalistic impulses are not those placed by the government on the people, or by some individuals on others, but rather by individuals on themselves. And no individual will allow himself a day without the tension between security and fear. Her companion's challenge would not prevent the Israeli woman's raising soon again the issue of excessive militarism, but her own self-discipline would.

How this impression of the people is gained can't be easily explaned. Occasional admissions of discontent him at a more deep-seated malaise, but the most obvious manifestation of this search for escape is the fervor with which the Israelis desire peace. Their understandable eagerness to be free from fear is always accompanied by statements like "then we will not have to spend all our time preparing for war."

This preparation consumes time, money, and emotional energy. And it is the emotional tension that the people have come to dread most.

This summer a film about the Six Days War became very popular in Tel Aviv. Entitled Every Bastard A King, the show included scenes of tank battles in Sinai. A young Israeli soldier who had actually fought in the battles was commenting on how realistic the battle scenes in the movie were

If peacee ever conmes to Israel... The governmeent will have to offr the Israelis more than a tough stance toward the Arabs and a strong army, and some means will have to be found to integrate the North African and East European cultures that exist independently, side by side in the country.

"I took my mother to see it with me. When she saw the war scenes, she became hysterical." After a brief silence he concluded, "If I had known about the scenes, I would not have taken her to it."

This soldier would never have questioned the belief that each Israeli should sense strongly and personally the delicate equilibrium that characterizes life in Israel. Yet he also sincerely felt that his mother should not be required to suffer. He preferred that she be ignorant of the dangers her son faced.

The soldier should have posed some questions which simply did not occur to him. Must every Israeli feel his situation so strongly? Must this tension between fear and security, despair and hope, this constant viewing of life in terms of black and white, be so pervasive?

It is difficult to argue that it should not be so widespread without feeling that somehow you are being dishonest. After all, the Arab threat is real, both within and outside the country. But if the threat is a fact of life, must it engulf you wherever you go in the country? Must it dominate the silver screen, walk in the streets with you, and be dropped on the beaches of Tel Aviv? Won't a people fight for and believe in their country without this?

The challenge to the belief that the fears and hopes must be omnipresent can come only in unanswered questions. The current situation in the Middle East allows little room for experimentation. The sense of security cannot be risked.

If peace ever does come to Israel, the people will have to answer the questions they now ignore. Responses to the demands of kibbutz youth will be harder to find. The government willhave to offer the Israelis more than a tough stance toward the Arabs and a strong army, and some means will have to be found to integrate the North African and East European cultures that exist independently, side by side in the country.

The biggest adjustment, though, will be on the level of the individual. Now when the doctor practices his medicine, he does it for Israel. The bus driver drives his bus and the street vendor sells his oranges, for Israel. Israeli life requires that the first commitment be to the state. Yet one must ask what type of nation Israelis will produce when they begin to act for themselves.

You cannot leave their country without faith in the ability of these people to accomplish the goals they set for themselves. But in a nation growing as rapidly as this one, flexibility must be as highly valued as self-discipline and sacrifice; if the Arabs ever make peace, the task of pulling together and building this nation might not be easier, it may become more difficult