Precipitous war

It was surreal and awkward sitting with close friends in a Tel Aviv apartment, cheering as Brazil was trounced in the World Cup, and now and again shushing each other to listen as we felt a tremor that might be an intercepted rocket.  If you’re outside or near an open window when a rocket is shot down, you can feel it.  It’s like having a snare drum gonged nearby while you’re wearing earmuffs, or standing close to a subwoofer.  More a thump in your chest than a sound.  Kind of a whump.

Our host was to leave early the next morning for reserve training, so we parted ways just after the game ended.  On the surface he seemed unfazed. He said that he hoped to be back before the end of the weekend.  None of it seemed like it could actually be serious. 

Nor had it seemed serious even when the first rocket of this war had come near Tel Aviv, earlier that same day. I actually saw it get blown up in the sky.  I was at the bouldering gym when a girl yelled my name and laughed at me, because I was still climbing while everyone else had stopped.  I heard it then, the air raid siren, wailing away.  The ten or so people who were in the gym wandered outside on a vague instruction to move towards the next-door building’s bomb shelter.  Somehow we ended up just loitering outside, though, and chatting, until a puff of smoke appeared in the sky to the south.  Just after it I felt the whump. 

I felt another one two hours later while I was on skype with my friend Moriel.  We both immediately checked the ynet news ticker and saw that, indeed, there had been a Code Red Alert in Tel Aviv just a minute before.  That means there was a siren, which I hadn’t heard.  Moriel and I had probably talked all the way through it, reminiscing about the last Gaza war 2 years back, when Moriel had still lived here.  

“You seem more relaxed than we were then,” he said.  I agreed.  Terror is about the constant bombardment from the news, not from the sky, and I don’t own a TV.  Also, so far, it actually does feel different.  In the last Gaza war, Tel Aviv slowed down almost the instant that the first siren sounded in the city.  It was sobering, because nobody knew until then if Hamas had either the capability to hit Tel Aviv or the audacity to try.  They had never managed it before, and no air siren had wailed in Tel Aviv since the first Gulf War.  That was almost 24 years ago.

This time is indeed different.  Tel Avivers remember the last Gaza war, 2 years ago, and we remember the proven impotence of Hamas rockets.   When rockets shocked Tel Aviv back then by entering its airspace, the brand-new Iron Dome defense system was employed for the first time.  The defense system hadn’t been tried under serious fire, and nobody knew whether it would actually shoot down enemy missiles as claimed.  Well, it damn well did.  It has been so effective at taking out Hamas missiles that it’s easy to forget that they sometimes get through.  If enough missiles are fired at Tel Aviv, one will undoubtedly hit.  But Hamas doesn’t seem to have the capability to launch such a serious barrage.  Hence, it’s hard to take seriously these missile launches, which Hamas ought to know will be shot down.  Unlike the subdued feel in the city 2 years ago, the cafes and bars in Tel Aviv have been brimming.  

And I tell you truthfully, that it doesn’t feel dangerous in Tel Aviv.  Hearing the news of what’s going on in other parts of the country is like reading tabloids of a terrifying alternate reality.  After the murder of the Palestinian youth last week near Jerusalem, there were peaceful protests against escalation in Tel Aviv; in Jerusalem, by contrast, there were riots.  Since then, a kibbutz near Ashkelon was almost infiltrated by armed Hamas navy seals.  Hamas even tried to blow up an Israeli nuclear reactor (are they insane??).  There has of course been a constant bombardment of the south of the country by missiles.  And, worst of all, there have been calls by Hamas members for a return to the old days of suicide bombings.  

Well, that’s all going on outside of Tel Aviv.  But the belief that we’re safe from Hamas rockets doesn’t release the deeper gnawing and worry that this situation exposes.  I could feel it as a quiver in one friend’s voice as she told me that her boyfriend, another a close friend of mine, is called for reserves.  I felt it in the bombastic declaration that a coworker made against Gaza, vowing that we ought to cut off their water.  Another friend told me that her mom is a nervous wreck.  A cafe waitress made sarcastic remarks about yet another war, and a lovely summer to be.  There is a fair bit of anxiety around, and everyone’s watching the news.  

But let’s put credit where due -- Gazans have it the worst off, there is absolutely no doubt about it.  However, I do believe that they have more to blame on their own leadership, including historical leadership up on through the present day, than on Israel.  From Israel’s perspective, living in a country in which you must huddle in the center if you are to be (nearly) out of range of the missiles of all-too-eager enemies takes a psychological toll, and makes a country’s ‘aggression’ start to seem reasonable.  The entire south of Israel is intermittently under fire.  Even Tel Aviv must send counterstrike missiles in order to keep its buildings intact.  Can you imagine?  What would be done to Hamas if they were instead targeting New York City?  It gets exhausting, and being humane has its limits.  

Anyway, that’s my attempt to give a flavor of what it's like here right now.  Thanks everyone back in the US for the many well wishes.  I hope that this post allays some of your fears, or at least puts them in perspective.  It’s a conflicted and strange time to be in Tel Aviv – rather surreal and awkward.  The real worry, though, in my mind, is escalation.  For example, if we start to have suicide bombings it would be a major game changer.  It could also be really problematic if Israel takes out Hamas and leaves an Al Qaeda-shaped hole in its place.  However, what I suspect is a war not so unlike the past few.  Force will be exchanged.  A truce will be reached.  A new equilibrium will stand for a few years.  Through it all, life here will go on.  Until the next war…


Related posts (from the last Gaza war):

Beyond Rockets

Fajr Fajr, Burning Bright