Goodbye New Zealand

“To live in New Zealand” is the name of a song praising and glorifying life in New Zealand, written and performed by a Yisraeli group called “Ethnix.” It is a dream of many, I am told. I guess I am one of the lucky ones who lived to fulfill that dream. It lasted ten years. It had good moments and not so good ones.

What we see New Zealand transforming into these days is, I guess, what I would categorize as the “not so good ones.” Already then (mid 1990’s to mid-2000), I could see the buds of what New Zealand has turned into nowadays. In a way, I am glad I no longer live there.

The red light for me was turned on following the terror attacks on 9/11. In their aftermath, many members of the Muslim faith were attacked, unjustly, I might add, simply because the attacks were carried out by Muslims.

We, members of the Canterbury Hebrew Congregation, immediately enlisted ourselves to a campaign to support New Zealand Muslims. We issued a statement of support and embraced the Christchurch Muslim Community. So did other groups. Among them, were lecturers of the Canterbury University in Christchurch where I was teaching at the time.

Towards that goal, we set up a group on campus, which was entitled, “The Coalition for Justice and Understanding,” a euphemism for an effort to bash America and Yisrael, if you ask me. Some even dared to admit to me, knowing full well that I am a proud American citizen, that America “deserved” 9/11.

Let me interject here that Canterbury University, as I mentioned before, had already been infected with anti Yisrael sentiments spread by some lecturers (https://wingnsonawildflight.blogspot.com/2017/12/time-to-drain-university-swamps.html). I remember the time when Dr. Josef Olmert, a Yisraeli lecturer, visited the campus and partook in a panel where he brilliantly responded to each of their attacks. Following the panel, he asked me, “How can you work with such a hostile faculty staff?”  The fertile ground was already there for the fruition of what we witness today.

During one of our meetings, the aforementioned Coalition decreed to petition to America not to enter Afghanistan for various reasons which I will spare the readers. I objected. I thought that it would have been wiser to turn first to Afghanistan and ask its leaders to extradite Osama bin Laden rather than let the architect and perpetrator of such a crime against innocent people go on free to carry out more. My suggestion was mocked and brushed off as futile and a waste of time. I accused those present of appeasement. “Yes,” I recall retorting at them, “blame the victim and let the criminal get away with murder.”

What upset me most about some of the expressions then, though, was that one lecturer, a Pakistani woman, a very intelligent one, responded to my mention of Auschwitz as one of the lessons that helped shape my life with the following, “The ovens of Auschwitz are cold.” Imagine saying that to a daughter of two Shoah survivors???? Some “justice and understanding,” Eh?

The greatest shock, however, came several months or about a year later when the Christchurch Mosque opened a new wing. The Chairman of its Board, Ibrahim, with whom I had good relations, invited two members of the Canterbury Hebrew Congregation for its house warming. I was one of them.

After we were greeted by the Imam, whom I also knew and with whom I jointly partook in “Interfaith” events, the two of us walked around the mosque. The amount of anti-semitic publications laid out on the tables was shocking. We left with much disgust and a vow to never set foot there again or communicate with any of its Board members.

I could burden you, dear readers, with more examples, all pointing towards one direction. New Zealand was slowly but surely paving its way to its own destruction, to an oblivion that threatens to drown it, its beauty and anyone’s dream to go live “on a green island in a faraway ocean,” as the lyrics of the song by Ethnix submit.

My Kind of Hero

There is a Hebrew saying that reads:
"איזהו גבור? -  הכובש את יצרו"
 (who is a hero? One who controls his urge)

Avi Dorfman is a survivor of a terror attack carried out by Hamas. Survivors of terror attacks are all special people who lived to tell their horrific story. 

Avi, however, is unlike many of them. Avi was dealt the blow because he was trying to SAVE a friend, Tal Kain, and he did. Avi overcame a selfish urge to run for cover, an inherent human urge to avoid getting hurt. Instead, he chose to ensure that a friend is removed from harm’s way and himself ended with serious injuries.

You will rarely hear Avi tell his great story of survival. He is a modest young man who has never turned his victimhood into a means of survival let alone promote himself as a hero. In the words of my dear friend Roger Froikin: “today, people who are victims, who merely survive, are being called heroes – and they are not.”

Here is Avi’s story of miraculous survival, a story that has inspired many including my students who heard him speak and many more. Special thanks go to Yael Pedhatzur and to Michal Dar-El for their inspirational comments.

“My story is short & simple (and horrible in the middle). I had a perfect kind of childhood: no bullies, no fears, and I excelled in studying at the toughest levels both in school (math, computer science, pre-med, physics, and more) and by myself. I taught myself photography from the 8th grade (I took the annual yearbook's photos, guitar playing, computerized music (I started and manned the Audio-Visual control board for my school in ceremonies and events!), and computer science at least at a Master's degree level by the time I was 14. I knew all about Israel (biblical & modern history), it's neighbours, and it's technological prowess. I had simply excelled and was technically one rank below Valedictorian (one girl had a higher GPA but lacked these other fields of expertise). I was also aware of terrorism - two buses had exploded, and Prime Minister Rabin was shot right next to my house. I was destined to go to an elite IDF unit.

September 11, 2007 (...Twin Towers, different year...) was our last night at the IDF basic training base in the south. 1:30am. Tzeva Adom (red alert). Rocket alarms sounded. The Islamic Jihad launched a rocket to our area. We were in the 15 second impact range. We all woke and ran for cover. I noticed that a long-time friend of mine, Tal, who did basic training with me, was still sleeping. I nudged him and waited for him outside our tent, looking at the nearby empty tent. I suddenly saw a very quick white flash and heard the words "NOT YET!" ("od lo!"). Then, I had what *seemed to be* 20 seconds of seeing a soup of colors - just red, yellow, orange, black, and white, swirling around.

It was a Qassam rocket. These are the lighter artillery rockets of Hamas, and they are packed with shrapnel to maximize Israeli casualties and deaths (just look at Sderot). 68 soldiers were hit, 9 of whom were injured badly (e.g. lost a leg), and I was the worst: critical injury due to shrapnel. One piece went into the neck (2 millimeters away from killing me), one cut my index finger, and one went through the eye and into the brain. I had seen the previously mentioned colors for 20 seconds before I heard the rocket explode - from a meter away. My brain had managed to squeeze 20 seemingly seconds before the sound had reached me from only a meter away. I blacked out. I was technically awake, but I "woke up" as in regained consciousness while I was standing and telling a word salad to the base doctor (not a word salad as in confusion of words, but literally a salad - panicly saying onions, tomatoes, lemons, and the like). I again blacked out and woke up an estimated 5 weeks later. Keep in mind that I was awake through the entire time - but I was blacked out and cannot and could not know or remember a single thing (e.g. if you asked me "how are you?" then I would answer that I am fine - regardless of the tons of blood flowing out from my head). Both brain hemispheres were hit and my brain's linguistics section was the worst area damaged as far as they could see. The rocket had also removed my sense of smell and made it extremely difficult to cry (I only shed tears twice from that date). I was immediately evacuated (the first one out) to Barzilai Hospital and flown (love 669 (S&R) helicopters!) to Tel HaShomer Hospital - I owe these two places my life, as well as Ichilov Hospital for returning my forehead bones (they were removed so the brain would have the needed space to expand from the injury).

Light brain injuries (e.g. concussions) take 2 months of hospital & rehabilitation stay to officially pass. My injury was critical. I was, at the best-case scenario, supposed to take a whole year to recover and only then start my rehabilitation stay. But, this is assuming the worst-case scenario did not happen and the best case did - there was also a 30% chance that I would die within 10 days.

I thank God for what had happened since the rocket impact. Literally. I now know there is a God - no more assumptions, but facts. I had moments of consciousness, but it was a "different" consciousness - I had experienced actual death (no past memories, no senses, no thoughts, simply seeing black). But, then I woke up one morning around the fifth week (four weeks of hospital stay were done - this was the first week at rehabilitation!). I saw a hospital staying room, with the IDF casualties officer (for that woman!) smiling at me, and my parents sitting nearby. I did not know at the time how I was hit, but my memory and abilities had remarkably stayed (and so I can tell you this), and I actually had perfect control but slightly worse hand-eye coordination because of losing an eye (a white piece of plastic was there so I did not notice anything wrong - despite the fact it did not have an iris or cornea), and I did not notice that my forehead was boneless (because the skin was still there - although I could see the brain's patterns on it). I did not notice that I could not smell (until I came home and immediately made and omelet - I judged their readiness by their smell). I also had a deep vein thrombosis (DVT) in my leg, essentially blocked blood flow in an artery, and that had resulted in me being in a wheelchair for a while. I also slept for almost 16 hours every day. I had various other considered-permanent disabilities (e.g. single colored blindness - I saw green instead of a bright brown shade), but they had passed extremely quickly (miracles!!!). I was given various experimental medications (love Factor Seven enhancement!), and I recovered almost completely within a total of 7 weeks. I was home then, after 7 weeks, walking and talking and seemingly able. Much faster than light brain injuries! I was EXTREMELY happy (especially when I learned of how I was injured). I did not notice it until then, but my long-term memory was intact - but the very short-term memory (e.g. my parents are sitting behind me) was not. I then volunteered to return to the IDF of my own accord and to my commander's encouragement and the Medical Corp's massive suggestions. I got amazing gifts (gold medal, statuette, #1 medical miracle ever gotten by the IDF Medical Corp), and I had an incredible service in the IDF. LOVE!” 

Why the World Needs to Support Israel, the Jewish State

                                                                                      

Many of you may be familiar with Pastor Niemoller's  famous words, "First they came.." I will not 

tire you with the whole quote. You can easily find it via simple search on the internet. I will only cite those words that matter to me as a Jew as an Israeli and should matter to the West and whatever  else is left of the free world that values liberty and democracy in it various forms.

"Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out – because I was not a Jew; They they came for me – and there was no one left to speak out for me."

I beg to differ with Niemoller. As history, old and recent, teaches us, it is generally the Jews that they target and come for first.

Swedish Christian member of the Swedish parliament, Annelie Enochson, a great friend of Israel, once said: "It always starts with the Jews but it never ends with them." And please believe me, I do not take pride nor draw any joy from her observation. Being an Israeli Jew endows me with many and far better other reasons to be proud of my people, my nation and my Home. We are leaders and great contributors in many fields of World Civilization.

Ms. Enochson's words, however, amplify what I hope many will incorporate. Those who wish to see a safe future for themselves and their children, in particular, and the world, in general, need to understand that one way to achieve it is by keeping Israel strong.

A bird's eye view of recent world history shows that Israel was the first to experience what the rest of the world ended up facing and what awaits it in the coming years. It is Israeli planes that were hijacked first. It was their Jewish and Israeli passengers that were taken hostage to faraway lands and threatened with death by ruthless terrorists first. It is Israeli pizzerias and buses where our innocent young and old civilians were blown to pieces that were targeted first by modern day barbarians who celebrate the culture of Death. And it is Israeli communities along a hostile border that are shelled incessantly by those who refuse to learn to build, develop and grow.

Israel and its people had already learned to live with such calamities when many of the readers of these words were still in their cradles. We, Israelis and Jews, have not only learned our lessons. We have also shared with others our knowledge and gained expertise as a result of such learning.

"Israel is the Canary in the Coal Mine," Geert Wilders, another dear friend if Israel and the Jewish people once defined us. Like the Canary bird whose help was enlisted by early coal miners to detect any dangerous gas build-ups, so is Israeli always in the frontline of any danger that is likely to face the world. As long as the Canaries continued to sing, the miners were safe. Unlike the actual Canary, however, which had little control over its fate, Israel was able to shape its destiny, become stronger and through its strength help a lost world shape its own. Since its inception in 1948, Israel has been and continues to be a bastion defending Western Civilization. It has been the bullet proof vest to a world that more than often refuses to wear it.

The Jews and Israel are a symbol of resilience. A once defenseless nation who in the words of Dimitri Shostakovich embodied all of "man's defenselessness" rose from the ashes merely seventy years ago to fulfill its historical role in the chronicles of mankind. Like a pillar of smoke, it is here to guide the world and serve as its compass.

Whatever one, Jew or non-Jew, chooses to define Israel, the Jewish Homeland, as, there is one truth that remains unchallenged. Regardless of how imperfect Israel may be at times, the world needs a strong Israel. In the words of Niemoller, the world needs to speak out for Israel now if it wants someone to be there to speak out for it when "they" come for it. Because if there is one fact I am certain of, it is that one day, "they" who come for Israel will also come for the world!

Is the Duma “guess- timation” the next Al Dura narrative?

                                                

                                          

I am not going to discuss the painful issue of the recent Duma tragedy. We have had enough of that, enough of self flagellation, breast beating and guilt ridden national conscience. The incidence has been debated, written about, discussed and analyzed ad nauseaum to the point of exhaustion.

It is time to heal and move on.

Herein, however, is where our problem rests. Any doctor will tell you that no healing process can commence until the problem has been fully diagnosed and the source of it has been identified. How can we, Israelis, prescribe a cure for the malignancies in our midst if so many of us refuse to confront them?  How can we stop a small but loud segment of our society from breast beating and projecting upon the rest of us their dysfunctionalities by pointing a blaming finger at us and declaring us as the “usual suspects?”

These questions seem legitimate following another very well publicized example; one that continues to resurface; one we had allowed to remain an open wound for too long, a wound that still comes to haunt us probably because we took too long to address and cure it. I am referring to the Al Dura case of September 30, 2000.

The image of the twelve year old Gazan boy hiding behind his father who was allegedly killed by Israeli fire, is still a symbol of “martyrdom” in some parts of the world, mainly the Arab world. It appears on posters, stamps and is still fuels hatred and violence towards Israel.

Following the incident, France 2 T.V. station aired a clip of the alleged killing and distributed it for free to other networks that broadcasted it, inspiring further violence directed at Jews and Israelis.

My dear friend, Philippe Karsenty, the founder and president of Media-Ratings (www.M-R.fr) claimed  that the footage was staged. He was ready to defend his claim in court. Karsenty was sued for defamation by the French-Israeli journalist of the France 2 T.V. station. Karsenty lost in court.

On May 21, 2008, justice briefly prevailed and Karsenty won his appeal. In 2012, however, the French Supreme Court overturned the Appeals Court‘s decision on procedural grounds. According to it, Karsenty had no legal right to show the footage during the proceedings at the Court of Appeals.

It was not until May 2013, though, that a victory for Israel took place. Following the recommendation of an investigative committee set by the Israeli government, Israel formulated its official position that there is no evidence to support France 2’s claim that the young Al Dura was killed by Israeli fire, if at all.

Clearly, only some of pieces of the Duma firebombing puzzle are strewn around. These include, a dead baby, a wounded family and two burnt houses in the middle of a small Arab village. All the other details are circumstantial.

Uncertainties and unsolved issues are a nightmare. No one deserves to live with them for too long, if at all. Hopefully, the relevant Israeli authorities would, like in the Al Dura case, initiate their own probe into this case and hopefully sooner.  Otherwise, in the words of my dear friend and fellow blogger, Varda Meyers Epstein, “Duma might become the next Al-Dura case.”