Touring Terror

It’s frightening how so many things can sound like an air raid siren when you’re listening for it. A truck accelerating, beats in a song, even a crying baby. Any of these things, just for a split second, cause you to stop what you’re doing, look up and wonder, “Is that it?”. Your heart skips a beat, you hold your breath. If it’s a siren, you run for shelter. If it’s just a truck driving by, just part of a song, or just a baby, you take a deep breath and carry on.

It’s also an interesting way to spend a vacation.

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Israel was in the midst of a campaign to attract more tourists to the country when a missile killed Hamas’ Ahmed Jabari in Gaza, setting the final spark needed for a week-long war between Hamas and Israel. When the missile destroyed his car on the afternoon of Wednesday, November 14, I was somewhere high above the Mediterranean Sea excitedly anticipating an eight-day trip to Israel. When I left the US on Tuesday night I was looking forward to a warm climate and seeing my friends and family in Israel. When I landed, my aunt told me in the car ride from the airport, “We just killed some Hamas commander. There will probably be a war now.” And so, my vacation in a war zone started.

I won’t paint a picture of victimhood here. I still very much had a vacation, but vacationing in a country at war is quite an experience. Some vacations are looked back upon and scenes of beautiful beaches, fine food or interesting cultural experiences. Strangely, my vacation was marked by those same things, but it was also marked by air raid sirens, the constant chatter of the news on TV, and the stress of visiting locations under attack. This was a bizarre dichotomy.

The war that raged in the southern part of Israel had a minimal impact of my plans. The first time I was personally affected was a surreal moment. It was just as Sabbath was starting in Jerusalem and as I looked outside my hotel window at the setting sun over the city air raid sirens started their ominous call. The sirens can be only be heard, and not seen, yet I was looking out into the Jerusalem dusk, in disbelief, for answers. Could this be an air raid siren so far from Gaza?

As I later found out, rockets were indeed aimed at Jerusalem. Hamas fired rockets at Jerusalem on two occasions last week. The first rockets landed outside a Jewish community in the West Bank. The second attack almost hit Bethlehem, a city inhabited by Arab Muslims and Arab Christians. These rockets seemed to define Hamas’ reckless destruction. Over 1,400 rockets were launched from Gaza during the war, almost exclusively at civilian targets in Israel. Furthermore, Hamas knows that its civilian population in Gaza will suffer greatly from Israeli retaliation, but the consideration for the wellbeing of Israelis and Gazans are disregarded alike by Hamas. Such is the misery of terrorist organizations, whether they be your neighbor or ruler.

The next evening, as the war progressed and intensified, I left Jerusalem for a party in the central part of the country, twenty minutes outside of Tel Aviv. On the way there a friend called me to say he was just called up for emergency reserve duty in the Israeli army. He won’t be available this evening.

The first thing I noticed when I entered the party was the absence of a few of my male friends. I was told by their anxious wives that they too had been called up for reserve duty. The men who were there joked about why the army did not call them. It was a coping mechanism, not for stress, but for rejection. The war was making its presence known to me more and more. And I wasn’t even near the rockets.

My vacation and the war progressed in this similar manner for the rest of the week. More Israeli cities were targeted with rockets, more air raid sirens (including in Tel Aviv, which was a tremendous shock to Israel), more news and more stress.

I didn’t want the war to effect me. I wouldn’t let it. I went to Tel Aviv despite the air raid sirens. Both times I escaped without having to find shelter. But I did have to make some accommodations for the war. Instead of walking directly along the pleasant promenade along the beaches in Tel Aviv where there is no shelter I walked across the street where I could more easily run into a building if needed. I checked the news more often than I would have liked. I was very tense at times, relaxed at others.

As rumors of an impending ceasefire circulated on Wednesday, I planned one last evening in Tel Aviv at my favorite Italian restaurant in the heart of town. Reservations were made for 7 pm, although they were not needed. The city, which is vibrant at all hours of the night and day, was eerily empty. Known for a lack of parking, I found spots easily in the busiest neighborhoods. Normally crowded cafes were vacant. It was not the same Tel Aviv I remembered.

Sometime after noon my cell phone started to ring with a flurry of calls and texts. When a bomb exploded in a bus or restaurant in Israel, everyone calls everyone. Are you OK? Where are you? Have you spoken to your brother?

A bus exploded in the heart of Tel Aviv. Hamas dispatched an Israeli Arab to place a bomb under a seat on a bus that blew up across the street from the same restaurant we were going to that night.

We finally gave in. We cancelled our trip to Tel Aviv. We weren’t going to deal with the stress, the bombs, the air raid sirens. Dining with a view of a bombed out bus isn’t so appealing anyway.

Sure enough, just hours later a ceasefire was declared at 9 pm local time. The war was over – for now – and we could finally have a normal vacation. Alas, our flight left that same evening and as the war ended, so did our vacation.

Tel Aviv is Targeted

Islamic Jihad moments ago took credit for launching a Fajr missile against Tel Aviv. This is the first time that city has been targeted by a missile since the 1991 Gulf War.

This signifies a major escalation in the Gaza war that is now two days old. IJ is most likely baiting Israel into a ground offensive in Gaza in which Hamas will feel the brunt of the fighting against the IDF.

Below is the rest of the blog post I was writing moments before the Islamic Jihad announcement:

This week features another war in which Gaza and Israel are facing off against each other using the best rockets and rocket-defenses they have, respectively. Hamas uses the Grad rocket extensively, and when accurately aimed at Israeli population centers, the Israeli military counters with it’s Iron Dome, the most advanced rocket and missile interception system in the world.

The picture below from The Muqata blog shows how far the Iron Dome has come, and how much damage Hamas can cause.

Those puffs of smoke are the remnants of seven rockets that the Iron Dome intercepted in one barrage.

There are so many amazing things about that picture. What Hamas tried to do there was simply ‘overwhelm’ the system. For years before the Iron Dome proved it could work, its detractors said for that this was one simple way of getting passed the system. However, the Iron Dome is even more capable that it’s creators imagined.

This afternoon the Israeli city Rishon LeZion was hit my something. This city is just south of Tel Aviv and is most definitely beyond the range of Grad rockets. This likely means that Hamas launched a Fajr missile against the city. This is a much more advanced and accurate missile. Israel hoped to knock most of these missiles out in the beginning of the conflict on Wednesday.

It has not been officially confirmed if indeed a Fajr was launched against Israel’s fourth largest city.

The Secret Service is Running Out of Gas

The US Secret Service has its hands full these days. With both President Barack Obama and his rival Mitt Romney criss-crossing the US in the final weeks before the presidential election, and foreign dignitaries visiting for the start of the UN General Assembly, the agency surely has a lot to deal with these days.

These enormous responsibilities are weighing on the men and women in the Secret Service, who are probably counting down the days until the visiting dignitaries leave and the election is over so they can go back to protecting just one man. After an incident that occurred to the Israeli and German press delegation headed to the UN today, it’s pretty clear that the Secret Service is running out of gas, literally.

Read the Times of Israel story here.

The Terrorist Sweepstakes

The recent Mega Million lottery, with a prize totaling $640 million, caused quite the stir as long lines of people crowded small bodegas and grocery stores for a chance to buy a winning ticket. Most people were aware the chances of winning were slim. Statisticians put the odds of winning at 1 in 176 million.

Three winning tickets were sold, but if you missed out on the lottery, the US State Department is giving you another chance at winning millions of dollars, and with slightly better odds. Wendy Sherman, under secretary of state for political affairs,  announced on Monday that the US government was offering a $10 million reward for information leading to the capture of Pakistani terrorist Hafiz Saeed.

If you were willing to buy a lottery ticket despite the poor odds of winning, you should also consider trying to track down Saeed in Pakistan. Compare the numbers:

• Odds of winning the Mega Millions:  1 in 176 million.
• Ratio of Saeed to the total population of Pakistan: 1 in 173 million

That’s a difference of 3 million in your favor. And if you’re still unconvinced, the State Department is increasing your odds. There is also a $2 million reward for information that leads to the arrest Saeed’s brother-in-law, Hafiz Abdul Rahman Makk.

The timing of Sherman’s announcement, just a few days after the Mega Millions lottery found three winners, reminded me of another lottery in the recently released movie “The Hunger Games.” There’s an oft repeated line in the first installment of the Suzanne Collins  trilogy repeated to the contestants of a gladiatorial-style game in which they must fight each other for survival: “May the odds be ever in your favor.”

Unfortunately, the odds look to be against the State Department and in Saeed’s favor.

The Return of the Hunters

The news brought on mixed emotions. The Attorney General held a shocking press conference, stating, “I have agreed to, with the consent of our President and cabinet ministers, grant asylum for, and the return of, all of our citizens held in prisons in foreign lands. This government will accept the return of any citizen, regardless of whatever alleged crime they committed overseas, as it is our duty to return any one of our citizens to their native homeland. The terms of the prisoner release have been approved by foreign representatives, and the release will commence tomorrow at noon.”

There was a moment of silence in the press room. Only the clicking of cameras could be heard. Then there was an eruption of applause and cheers, and even the stoic Attorney General revealed a wide grin.

The foreign captivity of our citizens has been a contentious issue for years. It mostly revolves around hunting, which is a national pastime here. Many go overseas to hunt, often illegally. Foreign governments have demanded that our citizens cease hunting in their countries, and have often arrested our citizens they have caught on suspicion of hunting. The domestic pressure at home is not if we should curb our hunting habits – we’ve been raised since childhood on how to hunt animals – but how we can return our nationals that have been arrested overseas. There are a few brave citizens that speak against hunting here, but it’s not so much of a social issue here anymore because we already killed off all our animals at home. That is why we have to go overseas to hunt.

I was still uneasy about the impending prisoner release. In a few short hours the country had been whipped into a nationalistic frenzy, the streets filled with people waiting for their fellow countrymen to return home. While I was excited to have my brothers return home after years in foreign jails, I was not totally comfortable with the fact that the government was willing to bring back anyone, regardless of whatever crime they have committed or were charged for.

My friend Mike is a cool-headed cynic, and I thought I could talk to him to get some perspective. I asked if he was comfortable having some of our country’s most notorious hunters return to our neighborhoods and streets, and reenter our society.

“Of course! They’ve been held in jails by foreign governments for acts only they consider crimes,” Mike answered. “Besides, there are no more animals left here for them to hunt, so what’s the worry?”.

Yet, I was still concerned. I was beginning to think there was something wrong with a society that only teaches one side of the issue. I couldn’t help but feel that we lost our self-control. I didn’t hear anyone ask if we should have all the hunters returned, even the ones that killed baby animals, or endangered species, for example. Hunting had become so pervasive in our society that people were only focused on the return of their countrymen, and not the acts they carried out.

Crowds started to gather in Aya Shaya Square, named after our countries first and most famous hunter who was killed while hunting several years ago just when it started to become a popular sport. A leopard has snuck up and mauled him. Some reports said his head was severed. His gruesome death and intrepid spirit, which took him hunting into uncharted territories, made him a national hero.

Our country has a great sense of irony and humor. Mocking the environmentalists overseas that jail our hunters, green flags were being handed out and waved by the crowd, while speakers were being set up on a stage in anticipation of the return of the hunters.

A young volunteer reached out to hand me a flag, but I hesitated. “Don’t you want a flag to greet our brothers upon their return home?,” he asked.

“I’m excited, don’t get me wrong, but do we know who all of these people are? What if they killed innocent animals? We could be welcoming some really terrible people back into our society,” I answered.

“Innocent animals? What are you talking about? They’re animals, what’s the difference? And having our brothers return home after languishing in jail is more important than whatever alleged “crimes” they committed overseas,” he retorted.

He thrust a flag in my hand and ran off to hand out the rest.

I stood there, looking at the stage, the flags, and the spectacle that was unfolding around me. I’m proud of my country, but I’m worried that we’ve lost our sense of justice to some form of extreme nationalism. I felt there is something terribly wrong with a society that welcomes with open arms some of the world’s most notorious hunters.

I don’t fear what may happen to the animals overseas in the future. After all, they’re just animals. I fear what the hunters may do at home, and what all this says about us.

The hunters come home. (Reuters)

The Forgotten Prisoner

Everyone in Israel is very familiar with the details surrounding the prisoner exchange and release of Israeli soldier Gilad Schalit. Due to the media’s fascination with all-things Gilad, the Israeli public knows everything about his capture and release, and will continue to follow his life for a long time. Schalit is already a celebrity. “EXCLUSIVE” pictures of him leaving his house or going to the beach are considered front page news in a country that generally has more important things to follow.

One of those things is the impending release of Ilan Grapel, an Israeli-American dual citizen who was arrested by Egyptian authorities in June for allegedly spying on Egypt on behalf of Israel. Israel, and US Congressman Gary Ackerman (D-NY), for whom Grapel interned for in 2002, deny he is as a spy. His supporters argue he was in Egypt working for a NGO, Saint Andrew’s Refugee Services. He arrived in Egypt at a time of immense political instability, which contributed to his arrest.

Throughout October, before the news that a deal for Schalit had been reached between Israel and Hamas, stories were surfacing that a deal was at hand for Grapel’s return to Israel in exchange for somewhere between nine and eighty-one Egyptian prisoners being held by Israel. Later reports also indicate that the Grapel deal is a part of the Schalit package, which was mediated by Egypt.

The curious thing about the Grapel saga is how much little attention it is receiving. On the surface, it makes sense that a soldier kidnapped from Israeli territory in the midst of a surprise attack by an enemy that tunneled in to an army base and killed two of his comrades is more emotionally gripping. Schalit was just nineteen years-old, looked even younger, and was doing the same military service that all Israelis must endure at the time of his kidnapping. All of these factors, plus a relentless public relations campaign led by the Schalit family, led to strong public awareness and support for his release.

A massive protest in support of Gilad Schalit in Israel in 2010. His cause was very popular, with many supporters seeking his release "at any cost."

Grapel’s arrest has received nowhere near the same support the Israeli public showered on Schalit, even as 1,027 prisoners and terrorists were released for him. Grapel is twenty-seven years old, was not captured during his army service on Israeli soil, and doesn’t have parents living in Israel to lobby on his behalf. But Grapel’s case should be an all-Israeli story: he decided to leave his American lifestyle after graduating for Johns Hopkins University, and was wounded while serving as a paratrooper in the 2006 Lebanon War (see 2006 Haaretz interview with Grapel in link). Israel is an immigrant country, and the paratroopers have a special place in Israeli military folklore, but Grapel still fails to grab headlines.

It’s hard to guess if there would be more or less public awareness and support of Grapel’s case if he was imprisoned by Egypt for five years like Schalit was for Hamas. I assume, judging by the lack of enthusiasm surrounding his upcoming release, that in five years the average Israeli would not care anymore about Grapel than they do now, probably less. However, Gilad’s story captured the hearts of Israelis from the beginning, and his family’s campaign maintained its momentum for over five years. The Schalit cause was championed by Israeli celebrities, the protest tent outside the Prime Minister’s home was always occupied, the “Gilad is still alive” bumper stickers and t-shirts were always visible throughout the country, and Schalit remained a popular cause. The Schalit family created a PR machine that could not be stopped, and the media was happy to fuel it while the Israeli public went along for the ride, culminating with 70% of the country following his release on TV last Tuesday.

When the news broke of Schalit’s upcoming release, Facebook was exploding with updates of “Is it true??”, “Can’t believe the news!”, and “Gilad’s finally coming home!”. Today, Facebook and the Israeli public are curiously quiet for Grapel.

Ilan Grapel's arrest has failed to create a similar populist reaction as Gilad Schalit's kidnapping.

A Beautiful and Painful Day

Below are my recollections and thoughts on 9/11. They’re personal, simple and lacking the opinionated language that most of my pieces contain. For ten years since that day we have heard countless arguments about how it happened and why it happened. Regardless, 9/11 has changed our lives, and I invite readers to share their stories about that day in the comments section below. I’m an average person who was strongly affected by 9/11 like most of us. The stories and the sacrifices of the victims and first responders carry the most weight, but after ten years we need to continue to heal and to share our stories, whether heroic or not. Here’s mine:

September 11, 2001 is etched in my memory as one of the most beautiful days I have ever seen. Even without the awful events that transpired that day I still may have remembered it for the sheer brilliance of its sunshine, pleasantness of its air, and the desire it gave us all to just sit outside and enjoy the perfection of that wonderful Tuesday.

One of the distinct visions I have of that fateful day is the ride home from school. It was early afternoon and the private high school I attended in Mamaroneck, NY, had closed early due to the day’s events. (A teenager’s dream in a real-life nightmare.) One of the school janitors drove several students that lived outside of Westchester County home in the school van. There are two things I remember clearly from that drive. The first is driving past the eerily empty Scarsdale Fire Department. They, along with fire fighters from around the Tri-State area, had embarked to Lower Manhattan to assist in the rescue effort. The vacant garage reminds me of our serene lives we had until that day that had left, never to return. The other memory of that car ride is when the van banked left around a bend in the Cross County Parkway and the sky opened up before me displaying  an amazingly deep and perfect blue color, without a cloud to be seen. As Lower Manhattan started to resemble scenes from the apocalypse, the rest of New York still looked like paradise. What a strange, twisted day.

It is this contrast that symbolizes the changes in our lives since 9/11. We (collectively meaning the West and the United States in particular) were naïve, ignorant, and blissfully content. Since then, we’ve fought wars, been exposed to cultures, religions and countries we were hardly interested in before, and dealt with a completely new reality. The sun had set and the next day would not be as pretty.

It’s shocking to think back to that day and see how little we knew. Terrorism was far from the minds of most Americans after the first plane hit the North Tower. It took many some time to comprehend what was transpiring even after the second plane hit the South Tower. But now we’re no longer ignorant. We’re bloodied, jaded and trying to figure out when it will all end. Will it all end?

I can only hope our new reality will come to an end because beautiful days have since never been the same.