You’re late, Netanyahu!
Filed under: A New Reality, General, Israeliness, Life, Social Justice
One of the great equalizers in Israeli society is the army. Of course, I’m talking about those segments of society that actually serve in the IDF – not the ultra-Orthodox haredim, nor the far-Left draft dodgers, nor the Israeli Arab citizens for whom an obligatory national service still hasn’t been invoked – but for the rest of us…
Oh, all right, let’s restate that and say for the small majority of Israelis who actually serve in the IDF, the institution is a great equalizer. Just look at the names and hometowns of the air force men who died in this week’s helicopter training accident in Romania – a 48-year-old father from Modi’in, a young kibbutznik, another from a moshav, a Rehovot resident. When a tragedy like befalls the country, we all feel it, because the victims are not just faceless soldiers, but somebody’s neighbor.
Another way that the army evens things out is in its lack of favoritism in its treatment of soldiers. That even goes for soldiers who happen to be the son of the prime minister.
Yediot Aharonot reported today that Yair Netanyahu, the son of PM Binyamin Netanyahu, was recently handed a 10-day detention sentence after showing up late at the IDF Spokesperson’s Office headquarters, where he serves. After the young Netanyahu appealed his sentence, a senior officer at the base lopped two days off the punishment.
Military officials told Yediot that Netanyahu was being treated just like any other soldier. “He was tried for an incident for which any other soldier would have been tried and received adequate punishment,” one source said.
Yair should be applauded for not throwing his family name around and receiving special treatment, not that it would help in any case. However, given his intense schedule and shoulder-dropping responsibilities, it’s a surprise that the elder Netanyahu hasn’t taken his son’s hint and blown off a couple meetings. After all, who’s going to ground him?
Arsenic for the budding actor
Filed under: Immigrant Moments, Israeliness, Life, Movies, Music
Went to see a clever local production of an old film favorite, “Arsenic and Old Lace,” now turned into a musical — “Arsenic The Musical” with lyrics written by local Modi’in resident, Elli Sacks.
Staged in Talpiot, at the simple stage of El Halev, Arsenic is produced by Way Off Productions, a theater group that is aiming to be more theater workshop than local Jerusalem English language theater. And that’s what it felt like during the course of the well-rehearsed two-hour production, and I’m offering that as a compliment. The actors, both amateur and professional, knew what they were doing and did it well, including Teddy Brewster (the nephew who is mad and thinks he is Teddy Roosevelt.) Full disclosure: Teddy is played by my brother-in-law and the play’s assistant director is my sister and Ira’s wife, Beth Steinberg.
Despite the family connections, I was charmed by the production, and by the fact that these actors took their own leisure time to rehearse and perform the play over the course of many months. But perhaps even more striking was the fact that so many of them have actually acted professionally and then moved to Israel, where they’re hoping — according to the Playbill bios — to continue acting, for money. Actor David Hilfstein worked Off-Broadway in NYC before making aliyah and has appeared in Srugim; Alona Cole is a professional singer and Chanan Elias plays professionally with various local bands.
I’m pretty sure that my sister and brother-in-law aren’t planning on going pro in the acting field. But it’s gotta feel good to have your acting work noticed. Even when it’s tied to the flotilla disaster.
Taking 443
Friends of ours from Modi’in drove into Jerusalem to meet us for dinner last night, of course taking Route 443, the controversial road that until last Friday was not open to cars with Palestinian license plates, and is the most direct route to Jerusalem, if you want a 30-minute drive.
Our Modi’in friends didn’t have much of a choice, just like everyone else in Modi’in who regularly drives into Jerusalem, unless they want to take a crazy roundabout route that would take twice as long. And as long as things remain quiet on the road, most people will shrug, like our friends did, when asked if they were concerned. The thinking being, you need to get where you want to go, and you’d rather get there easily and quickly, which is what Route 443 provides.
The opening of the road to Palestinians was a two-year battle waged by the Association for Civil Rights in Israel, and yet very few Palestinians have actually been driving on the road, primarily because the new traffic plan set up by the IDF curtails Palestinian drivers from easily reaching Ramallah, the nearest Arab city with stores and services, which was always the purpose of 443 for those living in Arab villages along the road.
It’s incredibly frustrating, I get that. Before 2002 — and the repeated attacks on 443 that killed and injured Israeli travelers during the intifada — travel time from 443-area Palestinian villages to Ramallah was roughly 20 to 30 minutes. Without 443, it takes an hour to arrive at Ramallah. That’s a long way for a trip to the mall.
So now Israeli soldiers are sitting around at the new checkpoints along Route 443, waiting for Palestinians who aren’t going to be arriving since they can’t reach Ramallah. Meanwhile, the rest of us, aiming to get to Jerusalem, or to Modi’in, or any of the Israeli cities beyond Modi’in, pretty much sail through the checkpoints with a wave and a smile at the soldiers manning — or womanning — their posts. After all, they could be our kids. They’re certainly someone else’s kids.
I’m not bemoaning the measures taken to protect the safety of Israeli drivers on the road. I also want to continue driving on 443 without worrying about whether something could happen. But it would be nice to know that the road could benefit Palestinians as well, without worrying about the possible dangers of doing so. Unfortunately, nothing is ever that simple around here.
To 443 or not to 443?
With Highway 443, the road that runs between Jerusalem and Modi’in through the West Bank, all over the news lately, I was reminded of the events that led to 443 being closed to Palestinian traffic nearly ten years ago.
We had been invited to a barbeque at the house of friends in Modi’in. On the day of the party, the news reported that Highway 1, the main road out of Jerusalem, was jammed and there were hour-long back-ups. The solution seemed easy enough: we’d just take the alternative highway – Highway 443.
Except that nothing is that simple in Israel.
Since the second intifada broke out in 2000, we had avoided traveling on certain roads, specifically those that pass by areas where there had been terror attacks. 443 had been the site of many such tragic incidents, from ambush killings, drive by shootings, to frequent firebombs.
443 was closed to Palestinian traffic in 2002 – the controversial act that led to this month’s Supreme Court decision ordering the army to re-open back the road within six months. Even with the traffic ban, we weren’t comfortable with the drive. But we were already running late for the barbeque. Sitting in traffic would have meant we’d miss all the fun. And definitely the chicken wings.
With no small amount of trepidation, we opted to take the fast track. We were immediately struck by its stark, barren beauty. The rolling hills with their jagged rock formations, the long stone terraces that always look to me to be thousands of years old.
My wife Jody rolled down her window. The road was open, traffic was flowing, the mountain air smelled crisp with just a hint of the salt from the Mediterranean Sea, already visible in the distance.
Then, out of the blue, we came to a stop. I quickly noticed that no cars were coming in the other direction either. Something had happened.
People turned off their car engines, got out and stretched their legs. A man opened his back door and out sprang a scraggly black dog who instantly jumped the fence to go for a run on the empty other side of the road. The sounds of the muezzin from a nearby village echoed through the valley.
We turned on the radio. Galgalatz was reporting that a hefetz hashud – a suspicious object – had blocked the road.
In the midst of our waiting, a totally chutzpadik taxi driver decided he couldn’t wait and started to push his way to the front. Honking ferociously, he yelled to the other cars to start up their engines and move to the right so he could squeeze by on the almost non-existent left-side shoulder.
It was not like he was going to get past the roadblock. What was he looking for? A half a minute’s lead-time over all the rest of us freiers?
And then, after about 40 minutes of frustration, BOOM. Not deafening, but still loud enough to rattle us. The police robot used to zap suspicious objects had apparently taken a bite, and something on the menu had a kick to it.
The traffic started up again. Slowly we snaked down the road, anxiously craning our necks to see what the cause of all the commotion was. I imagined something minor, maybe a small package, a garbage bag or even a suitcase forgotten the side of the road.
It was a car. An old Subaru, left abandoned, and now a smoldering wreck. That was big…had it been blown apart by the robot or was there a bomb inside? I couldn’t stop myself from thinking: what if it had gone off just as we were passing? On the very day – no, the only day – in the many years that we chose to go this way?
Since that incident, the intifada has faded and so have our fears. We travel 443 regularly. But what will happen when the road is reopened to traffic from Ramallah and other points in the PA, we wonder? Will we – and other nervous Israelis – pack back onto Highway 1? Was that, perhaps, the reason a new exit was recently opened entering Modi’in from the south?
Summer is still far away, but the annual barbeque is already calling. I suppose our decision will be made based on if we’re on time or not.
And whether they’re running out of chicken wings.
Among the wildflowers
As Rachel wrote last week, wildflowers are in full bloom as the “rainy season” ends. The Modi’in area is saturated with beautiful flowers and one of the city’s greatest treasures is Givat Titora, a 140 acre green space with hiking trails, ruins, cisterns is currently the city’s main attraction and a popular spot for locals. Shockingly, contractors have been trying to get a hold of this land for years to build apartments. This site, set up to oppose construction on Titora, outlines the rich history of the hill. Titora is one of Modi’in’s greatest assets and the very thought of construction there sickens me.
On Friday I took my daughter to Titora for what we call an “adventure” – which is my way of branding something that she might not be able to get her head around. Right before her nap I told her when she awakens we were going to go smell the flowers. She was pretty stoked when she got up and starting screaming “FLOWERS! FLOWERS!” so I immediately threw her (well, placed her actually) in the car and took off! Here are a couple of photos from the afternoon.
Subscribe
Subscribe to Israelity via email:
Social Media
Categories
- A New Reality
- Art
- Blogging
- Business
- coexistence
- Crime
- design
- education
- Entertainment
- Environment
- Food
- Foto Friday
- General
- health
- History and Culture
- Holidays
- Immigrant Moments
- Israeliness
- Life
- Medical Breakthroughs
- Movies
- Music
- News
- Nostalgia Sunday
- Picture of the Week
- Politics
- Pop Culture
- Profiles
- Religion
- Science
- Social Justice
- Sports
- Technology
- Travel
- tv
- War
The Face of Israel Today
-
About Israelity
Free newsletter
Stories from ISRAEL21c.orgPopular Posts