On Tuesday Israel announced the closing of a deal between itself and Hamas for Israel to release 1027 Palestinian prisoners—hundreds of whom are on life sentences with at least 599 Israeli deaths on their hands—in exchange for one Israeli prisoner, Gilad Shalit, who has been a prisoner of Hamas for the last five or so years. On the surface this deal seems downright insane. One can spout mumbo jumbo about the relative values of life in different cultures, but the numbers slice any sort of logical discourse to ribbons. This is not the first time that Israel has released hundreds or thousands of prisoners in exchange for one, or in some cases for dead bodies, and this precedent undeniably gives Hamas incentive to continue its kidnappings. If Hamas gets a thousand fighters back for each one that it kidnaps, you can do the math. The Israeli prison system becomes a revolving door. Life sentences mean nothing. It’s like Hamas is playing a video game and each kidnap provides one thousand extra lives. Why does Israel keep giving its enemies this leverage?
This is the view probably held by most Americans and certainly the view I came to this country with. I was walking with my friends Tomer and Shiri one evening on Rothschild bouldevard, back in the summer when the social uprising was in full swing, and when I saw yet another of the ‘Free Gilad Shalit’ posters that are all over the city, I felt the need to tell my friends exactly how ludicrous I thought this Gilad Shalit issue is.
You see, here in Israel, the issue of Gilad Shalit is not just some asterisk being silently dealt with by a few officials up in office; obtaining his freedom has been a major social and political movement, and in every protest, demonstration, or gathering about anything, the issue of Gilad Shalit always seems to pop up, even if it has absolutely nothing to do with what else is being discussed. Gilad Shalit’s release is like the issue of abortion in the US; whether or not you want it to, it somehow seeps into every political discussion. Why, I asked Tomer and Shiri, are the Israelis so irrational about Gilad Shalit, so willing to give up so much in exchange for a single soldier who was kidnapped? I couldn’t comprehend it. I expected my extremely liberal and highly educated scientist friends to fully support my incredulity. Instead, they waited for me to run dry in my tirade, and then Tomer calmly explained it to me.
In Israel, he told me, every able-bodied person (aside from Arabs and some of the ultra religious) serves in the army, starting around the age of 18. The army is seen as a necessary force for the defense of the nation, which is indeed even reflected in its name: the Israeli Defense Force (IDF). In relinquishing their children to the state at such a vulnerable age, families make an unspoken pact with the state that in return for its new recruits, it will take full custody of those children, will treat them as if they were its own, and that it will do everything in its earthly power to return them home when their service is over. In most cases, this means that the state will keep the country’s children from needless harm, will equip them properly, and will authorize them to use lethal force if their lives are in danger. In the case that a soldier dies, his or her body will be buried in proper tradition, with all respect given. This means that if the body must be recovered from the enemy, it will be, even at great cost.
Similarly, in the case that a soldier is kidnapped, this means that the state must do everything in its power to get that soldier back alive. Up until Gilad Shalit, Israel has always delivered on this pledge, even when it required extremely difficult sacrifices. However, this one time, the state seemed to be waffling.
Tomer put it most clearly with the following statement. He said that if in the future the Israeli government makes it clear that it cannot stomach certain sacrifices for the return of a single soldier, then at least new soldiers going in, and their families, will know what they’re facing. But Gilad Shalit had entered the army with the implicit understanding that the state would do everything possible to release him in the event of his capture. Israelis saw the state’s vacillation on this as a symbol of grand betrayal, the government leaving one of its sons to suffer at the hands of a cruel enemy. It wasn’t rational in an objective sense, but it did have a particular reasoning behind it. It made sense to the families of Israel, each of which could remember its own sons and daughters going away to the army and could relate personally to the plight of the Shalits.
I still don’t agree with the Israeli decision. There are so many things wrong with the exchange of over 1000 enemies, many of them murderers, for one young soldier—so many philosophical and moral lenses through which it seems flagrantly unjust—that it would take me a long time to fully unravel my thoughts on it. However, at least I feel that I understand why Israel made the choice that it did.
Perhaps in the future the Israeli state will more rationally weigh the life of one man versus the security of a nation, but at least this time, the one life was considered worth it. I wish Gilad all the best in his recovery and reintegration into some semblance of normalcy. And I wonder if at some point the Israeli state will make it clear to its enemies—and to its own citizens—that the next time, there will be no such exchange.
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