June 2, 2001 (Saturday afternoon):  Tel Aviv, Israel (pages 46-47)

"Shabbot shalom!" is what you exclaim to greet someone as the Sabbath approaches. May you enjoy the peace of the Sabbath. But some Sabbaths enjoy more peace than others.

Just a little over an hour after my leaving the Promenade last night, a young Palestinian terrorist drove up to a nightclub frequented by teenagers and blew himself and his car to smithereens. The automobile was a moving bomb filled with bullets and nails. His suicide succeeded in murdering seventeen young people and wounding more than a hundred others, according to preliminary reports. This is part of the Palestinian response to ten days of Israel’s unilateral cease-fire.

What can I say to this gruesome turn of events? I was stunned and profoundly saddened when I received the news of the attack this morning in the hotel lobby. I had slept late and headed out at around 10:30 a.m. without turning on the television in my room. Amichay, visibly shaken and upset, called me over to his computer and showed me an ICQ message he had received from an Egyptian. The text was so evil; he reveled in the violence and death and praised Allah for such a great victory over the Zionists!

After checking my e-mail to see if Lois had heard the horrible news, I headed to the site of the disaster, a nightclub called Daniels at the Dolphinarium and across from the David Intercontinental Hotel. I knew the spot well, because it often served as the southern terminus point on my nightly walks. Last evening, I had been there twice. About one hundred people were already there, watching the clean-up in silence and with tears.

A few minutes later, another crowd grew in front of the Hasan Bec mosque across the street. A false rumor began to spread that the terrorist had spent his last night there, and this incited the Israelis who gathered there. The spontaneous and unorganized protest grew larger and more dangerous throughout the morning and into early afternoon. Most of the time, the crowd was peaceful and the atmosphere was almost party-like. Occasionally, someone would pick up a stone and throw it aimlessly into the compound, in imitation of Palestinian protests. The Arab Muslims inside looked on, apparently bemused by the spectacle of Israeli soldiers protecting them from Jewish protesters. Periodically, they would inflame the crowd by shouting slogans, throwing stones over the gate, or by trying to leave the mosque compound through one of several exits. Israeli and foreign television crews appeared, and whenever they went "live" the crowd would respond with vigorous chants, flag waving and surges toward the mosque or cars containing Arabs that sped quickly away.

Through the day, I thought about the conundrum Israel faces. How does one make a true and lasting peace based on trust and mutual understanding with people who intentionally murder youths? Arafat and his representatives have been on television all day. He has mastered the art of managing war through the media, while Israel’s efforts in this regard are mediocre. On the one hand, the Palestinians "condemned" the suicide attack. Then, in the same breath, they immediately blame Israel for it and eschew any responsibility for preventing such provocations. They claim that Arafat can’t (translate "won’t") do anything because Israel occupies Palestinian land. So, in effect, Arafat and company endorse the killing even while protesting that they don’t approve.

Copyright (c) 2001.  All rights reserved.

For background on A Summer's Journey, see the SJP November 2001 article, Thoughts on Sharing "A Summer's Journey." 

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