The demolition of Gush Katif was nice and clean, apart from that inconvenient resistance on the rooftops. The IDF has been prostituted, and the heads of the security establishment couldn’t muster up the courage to say “no” when asked to send our country’s finest (and yes, they are still our children, too) to carry out an entirely legal, but wholly unmilitary, and therefore inappropriate, mission.
Not that I’d want to disturb the important business of Tel Avivians and their coffee shops, but now that you’ve asked, “what am I supposed to do,” here are a few suggestions of things you could have done, and could still do if you were interested in helping people in a time of need.
No politics here: in less than a week, more than 8,000 men, women and children have lost everything – homes, jobs, friends, communities. We can – and undoubtedly will - argue about the wisdom of settling Gaza in the first place, but I would have expected the folks who most fervently supported disengagement – if the stereotype is correct, a large majority of the folks sipping iced lattes on Shenkin Street – to be there to greet the evacuees. You could have brought toys for the kids, or perhaps a hot meal, to some people who now have very little, and sent a strong message: For all our differences, we have only one country. Let’s build it, together.
In addition, many, many, many residents – teens and adults, men and women – turned out last week to rebuild greenhouses, to help build the trailer parks where Gaza evacuees will eventually be moved, and to provide labor and expertise in a myriad of areas. Were you there, you would have made a non-financial, but invaluable, contribution to the absorption process, and helped to bandage some deep, fresh wounds.
No vacancy
Thirdly, despite the congratulatory declarations of officials in the Prime Minister’s Office, there is not a “solution for every resident.” Even in cases that the Disengagement Authority dispatched people to temporary housing, families with children arrived at their hotels only to be told “no vacancy,” and others have been forced to sign that the cost of the hotel would be deducted from their compensation payments. Still others woke up on Sunday to their second eviction notice in four days, because the Administration hadn’t paid the bill.
The day before the pullout began was Tisha B’Av, another day when your Tel Aviv coffee houses and restaurants were full. But in addition to being a day to mourn the destruction of ancient Jerusalem twice over, Tisha B’Av is also the national day of mourning, a time to mourn all the expulsions, pogroms, and the murders that stain Jewish history.
Unfortunately, Tisha B’Av has been relegated to the “religious” world, but at least this year, I would have expected at least one day to fast, and to mourn the fact that a major settlement operation in the Land of Israel has come to an end..
National tragedy
Politics aside, the fall of Gush Katif is a tragedy for all of Israel. It’s a tragedy that the settlement movement did not attract millions of veteran Israelis and new immigrants, that in 30-plus years, only 1,500 families chose to brave admittedly tough conditions to make the desert bloom. Ariel Sharon may in fact have made a wise choice to pull out of Gaza, but the decision to forego our right to live in parts of the Land of Israel should be a tragedy for every Israeli.
Had you done even a fraction of these things, you would also have done a lot to dispel the feelings of many ex-Gaza residents, as well as many West Bank residents and other disengagement skeptics, that much of Israeli society would prefer we and our families would just disappear.
With your actions, you would have sent a clear message that most Israelis do not identify with the angry, hurtful portrayal of “us and them” proffered by Amos Oz on this page Sunday. You would have done much to show that most Israelis do not view the former residents of Gaza as enemies.
If you could have done without your coffee, you might have made a meaningful contribution, not only to Gaza families, but also to a country and society that stands to fall apart. You would have shown that even Tel Aviv has not abandoned its brothers from Gush Katif.
I hope you enjoyed your coffee.
Andrew Friedman is an editor of Ynetnews and a resident of the West Bank city of Efrat

