On the Yahrzeit of Yitzchak Rabin
Rabbi Melanie Aron
November 2, 2001
Several years ago, Michael and I saw Assassins here in San Jose.
I thought it was a pretty good production and the music was
compelling, but during the intermission, about half the audience
left. It was a dark play, it was Stephen Sondheim after all, and
for many people the material didn't seem appropriate to a
musical. There were objections to the attention given to the
assassins, focusing on their lives and motivations, which seemed
to glorify them, while taking little note of the havoc they left
in their wake.
This past Monday was Yitzchak Rabin's yarzheit on the Jewish
calendar, the 12th of Heshvan, and on the secular calendar, the
sixth anniversary of his assassination is this Sunday, November
4. For most of us, that day is still very vivid in our memories.
I was at Camp Swig on our Shir Hadash confirmation retreat with
the class from Temple Emanu-El. In the morning we had a service
in the Holocaust memorial and then walked the kids back for lunch
in the chader ochel. Rabbi Mark Schiftan, who was also at the
retreat, had gotten into his car for some reason that I can't
recall, and he happened to turn on the radio. He came back shaken
and told me what was known at that point, early Sunday morning
Israel time. We gathered the students together and tried to
explain to them the meaning of this tragic event. I don't know
that they understood our stumbling, stuttering, still shocked
explanations, but they could tell from our affect that something
very sad and important had happened, and they responded
accordingly. That class of Confirmation students are now college
juniors. The aftermath of Yigal Amir's actions, the fall-out
from the assassination of Rabin and all that has followed, has
meant that none of them is spending a Junior Year Abroad in
Israel this year, though several intended to when they first
entered college. This class came of age watching Netanyahu stall
the peace process, and Barak fail to pull the Israeli government
together, lurching as he did from one approach to another. The
events that followed Rabin's assassination have meant that their
college career has been spent in an anti-Israel atmosphere so
pervasive that it has challenged even our most Jewishly committed
students. Perhaps it is for this reason that Yitzchak Rabin is
mentioned so often as a hero by our college students, the model
of something Israeli with which they can identitfy in a positive
way.
Many people have used the current Intifada as evidence that Rabin
was on the wrong track, that Camp David was flawed in some
fundamental way. But Rabbi David Saperstein director of the
Religious Action Center of the Reform movement, has argued that
the conclusions that Yitzchak Rabin reached in his lifetime
remain relevant today.
Looking at the territories that Israel controlled since 1967,
Rabin saw two options that were both unacceptable. The first was
that of Meir Kahane and the recently assassinated tourist
minister Rehavam Zeevy, of forcing the Palestinians out of the
territories, loading them up and moving them across the border,
something antithetical to Jewish values and to the dreams on
which the state of Israel was founded. The second was what we
have today, an attempt to hold on to territory by force,
particularly because of the settlements in densely populated Arab
areas, creating frustration and anger, constantly escalating the
Intifada and requiring military action to such an extent as to
bring upon Israel constant condemnation. Rabin recognized that
this path would only lead to increased terrorism and the
demoralization of Israeli Society. The third way, the way Rabin
sought in the end, was some kind of normalization of relations
with the Palestinians and Israeli's other neighbors, even if that
meant significant concessions of land both on the West Bank and
in the Golan Heights.
As a military man and tactician, Rabin argued that without a
peaceful relationship with the Palestinians, Egypt, Jordan and
Syria, Israel could not deal with the more significant long-term
threats to its security from Iran, Iraq, and radicalized Islam
around the world. (We might note that in this current intifada,
it was the Iraqis who offered their help to the Palestinians, not
the Egyptians, Jordanians, or even the Syrians). For realizing
what we now have come to understand, that the Intifada and the
Palestinians are just a side show with the real conflict and
threat elsewhere, Rabin deserves a lot of credit as a man ahead
of his time.
Rabin also understood that Israel's relations with its allies and
potential allies in the world community depend on its relations
with its most immediate neighbors. Improvements here in this
tough neighborhood, even a very cold peace, bring tremendous
benefits to Israeli society; similarly setbacks are felt
immediately in terms of trade, cultural and political contacts
and economic development.
During the high holidays we read Chapter 21 of Genesis as our
Rosh Hashanah Torah portion. Though I made various comments on
the text at services, I did not speak to the second part of the
reading, the story of Hagar and Ishmael being banished from
Abraham's camp, wandering lost in the wilderness only to be
rescued by an angel of God. Too much was going on at the time of
the holidays for me to be able to focus on that passage. It is
not that our situation is better today than it was on September
17th. If anything, both for the Unites States and for Israel
things have gotten worse. We now have anthrax in addition to the
fear of future conventional terrorist activities, and for Israel,
the increasing radicalization of Israeli Arabs in addition to the
Palestinians seems like the genie that will not be so easily put
back in the bottle. As things stand now it is not clear, contrary
to earlier hopes, that Israel will benefit in any way from the
worldwide war on terrorism.
Still as Chapter 21 of Genesis comes round again as part of our
weekly Torah portion, I am more ready to hear what that text
seems to be saying. Above all it reminds us that Ishmael exists.
Just as the Palestinians will not wake up one morning to find the
modern state of Israel gone from the shores of the
Mediterranean, neither we will find that the Palestinians have
changed their minds and decided yes, just as Golda Meir wished,
they really are Jordanians after all.
We are also reminded through this moving story that God heard
Ishmael's cry, where he was: that however hateful, vengeful and
irresponsible as partners in a peace process, the Palestinians
have turned out to be, they are still human beings created in
God's image and we can't escape from the responsibility that
reality creates for us. Finally we can learn something from the
coda to the story, the mention later in Genesis that Abraham was
buried by his two sons together. When other forces are out of the
picture- in the Biblical story Sarah and Hagar and even Abraham,
Ishmael and Isaac seem able to get along. Perhaps in our own
times, neutralizing in some way the power of Radical Islam and
the other Arab nations, might allow the Palestianians and
Israelis to work things out.
Yitzchak Rabin took some dramatic steps, pursued strategies, like
the secret Oslo meetings, that were out of the box. These actions
were key to some of the good years that Israel experienced in the
l990's. To bring back those better times, Israel will need to
take the initiative again, to act dramatically to capture the
imagination of its own people and of the Palestinians. Recently
the Kenesset discussed a proposal by two Labor representatives
for a unilateral separation. Unlike the separation proposed by
Barak in his final days in office, this separation gives the
Palestinians more, about 70% of the West Bank and the greatest
part of the Gaza strip. In this version the Palestinian lands are
turned over to international caretakers- giving the Palestinians
the international presence they have requested but in a different
form. It would involve Israeli withdrawal from some of the
settlements- but that could possibly be the face saving exit from
the Intifada, that some think Arafat has been looking for since
March.
Rabin's last speech, at the peace rally at the square in Tel Aviv
that now bears his name, was full of hope for a better future. It
was not a future without struggles, but it was ultimately a
future of peace. He said: "Today I believe there are prospects
for peace, great prospects". He said: "Peace entails
difficulties, even pain. Israel knows no path devoid of pain. But
the path of peace is preferable to the path of war."
As we honor his memory in prayer this evening, may we find our
way back to his vision, his willingness to fight when that was
what was needed but his willingness to stop fighting and make
sacrifices in order to move to a time of peace.