Green Line not only one

Contrary to some of my friends, who like me reside on the "wrong side" of the Green Line, I do not object to the education minister's initiative to reintroduce the Green Line in textbooks. Whether one recognizes or rejects this line, it is an important one on the map of our scarred country, and therefore it would be appropriate for Israeli students to be familiar with it.

However, at the same time, they should also be familiar with other lines that are no less significant to understanding our existential state, such as the borders of God's promise to Abraham (all the way to the Euphrates River,) the borders of David's kingdom (including today's Jordan and Syria,) and the borders of the Hasmonean kingdom, whose 2,200 independence day we celebrate at this time (yes, this is Hanukah's original aim. Hanukah shows for children were invented much later.)

I'm not calling here for a return to those borders (just as I don't support a return to the Green Line border.) I argue that these lines, just like the Green Line, whether they are real or imaginary, whether one recognizes or rejects them, constitute an important element in molding this country's destination. Yet it appears that the education minister and myself only agree on the importance of recognizing the Green Line, but not the other lines mentioned above.

Green Line in Israeli textbooks

Minister Tamir argued that the Green Line should be included in Israeli textbooks, among other reasons, to promote the inclusion of the State of Israel's borders in Arab textbooks. Here, the minister reveals her basic assumption, according to which Jewish history in the Land of Israel started in 1948 – a fairly common assumption in the Israeli public discourse. This same assumption led the Supreme Court to remove Hebron Jews from homes in the city's marketplace that were indeed built by Arabs, but whose origins are in areas of the Jewish quarter that was destroyed in the 1929 Hebron riots.

This approach, which attaches importance to lines that cross the current space but ignores historic lines, is similar to a captain navigating his vessel through an ocean filled with icebergs, while only attaching importance to the visible part of the iceberg that can be see rising above sea level. In the intellectual climate common today, those who sound the alarm regarding the folly of this discourse – just like those who warned about the dangers threatening the Titanic – are met with contempt.

The days of Hanukkah allow us to view the situation differently. When Matityahu warned against a Greek takeover of his homeland, many opposed him. Shaken by the state of the people, the high priest challenged the cultural elite of his time and went to war for Jewish memory. During the battles, his sons and him repeatedly reminded their fighters of their magnificent Jewish past and by doing so boosted their spirits. Instead of looking at the immediate reality, the Maccabeans sought to draw on the past.

When Matityahu bid farewell to his sons, he declared: Bad times have befallen us. Yet at the same time, he spoke of the unique individuals who fought against more numerous enemies and won; from Abraham to Eliyahu, from Pinchas to Daniel. And so, Shimon the Hasmonean responds to the demand to return territory by saying that we have not taken a foreign land or foreign property, but rather, it is our patrimony that has been in our enemies' hands.

Drawing on tradition

The power of the few, who draw on their tradition, has been highlighted for generations through the story of the small cruse of oil, which lasted for eight days. That same hidden might, which erupted during that war, is since then hidden in their successors' hearts. By lighting the Hanukkah candles for more than 2,000 years now, Jews emphasize the necessity of historical perception to the existence of the Jewish people, through the memory's shining power in the darkness of oblivion.

Dr. Ido Hevroni researches the literature of our sages of blessed memory