The news that I, along with Rabbi Avi Weiss (Rav Avi), would be embarking to the north of Israel on a mission of solidarity and unity was met by many friends and colleagues with a myriad of responses. Many were supportive of the mission, all were apprehensive about the dangers, and yet some were cynical about our motives and chances of success.
“What can one person do amidst all the violence and terror?” they scoffed. It was seen by some as mere rabbinic bravado, a chance to acquire some good sermon material or to pad one’s personal resume and credentials.
I had many reasons for going. Among them, three years ago I started a foundation, the Maimonides Heritage Center, dedicated to rebuilding the city of Tiberias, a northern coastal city not far from the border of Lebanon, and rescuing it from the throngs of poverty. We have made much progress and I have become very close with many Tiberian families and thus felt compelled to visit them in their time of need.
The nature of this current clash is not one of traditional armies battling for territory. The enemy does not seek to gain position; rather, it seeks to destabilize and demoralize the people of Israel, to end not just lives but a way of life.
No one should underestimate this conflict; the enemy is fully aware of the impact of psychological warfare, and I understand now, more than ever, the importance of coming to the north and making my presence felt, to battle the enemy on this front, to repel the despair that is sent with every rocket, to combat not with guns but with solidarity and love.
What we accomplished in our three days will not make the newspapers or CNN, nor will it end the violence or the destruction, and to that end I’m afraid the world will go on much as it has. In just a few days, however, we touched the lives of scores of families, and made a profound difference on a microcosmic – yet extremely important – level that I will try to describe below.
I fear that those who think changes happen from the top down or only in a sweeping fashion suffer from a certain narrow-mindedness and cynicism that is far too pervasive in Western culture. To change and improve the outlook of just one individual, even for a moment, can make a world of difference and a difference in the world.
I spent two days in Tiberias and a third day in Kiryat Shmonah in town, and with soldiers on a base the location of which was never revealed to me. The north of Israel has seen more than one million people displaced from their homes. Those who remained are the poorest, the weakest, the most hopeless, the ones with nowhere else to go.
Tiberias, indeed much of the north, survives on tourism. The height of the season is July and August as travelers from around the world take in the beauty and serenity of the Galilee and the Kineret. With these two months lost, the vendors, the hotel employees, the restaurant owners, etc., are destined to a year of poverty. Over 55 percent of their annual income is usually made in these two months. These are the “civilian casualties” that because of the violence are unfortunately often overlooked.
The scenes in these deserted towns are almost indescribable. Rav Avi, Yonah Berman, Dror LaLush (deputy mayor of Tiberias), and I visited a poor neighborhood of Tiberias and came upon a group of families huddled outside their bomb shelter just waiting for the next siren to sound. Despite the utter despair of the situation, the 100-degree temperatures, and the reality that at any moment we might all have to literally run for our lives, Rav Avi was able to bring smiles to everyone’s faces with his natural warmth. He even found time to play chess with a ten-year-old girl named Yarden – that is, until he realized he was losing.
Within 15 minutes of our arrival the siren went off. It was a somewhat surreal experience as instinct and adrenaline took over. Then a series of thunderous booms sounded, the ground shook, and smoke clouded the air as several Katyushas landed, one a mere 50 meters from us. The rockets were packed with thousands of pebbles and nails that shot out like bullets three hundred feet in every direction spraying shrapnel and devastation. Panic and fear abounded as people ran toward bomb shelters.