[lit-ideas] fw NYT select, Israeli Candor

  • From: Carol Kirschenbaum <carolkir@xxxxxxxx>
  • To: lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
  • Date: Tue, 18 Jul 2006 15:18:37 -0700

Op-Ed Contributor
The Way We War

By ETGAR KERET
Published: July 18, 2006
Tel Aviv

YESTERDAY I called the cable people to yell at them. The day before, my 
friend told me he'd called and yelled at them a little, threatened to switch 
to satellite. And they immediately lowered their price by 50 shekels a month 
(about $11). "Can you believe it?" my friend said excitedly. "One angry 
five-minute call and you save 600 shekels a year."

The customer service representative was named Tali. She listened silently to 
all my complaints and threats and when I finished she said in a low, deep 
voice: "Tell me, sir, aren't you ashamed of yourself? We're at war. People 
are getting killed. Missiles are falling on Haifa and Tiberias and all you 
can think about is your 50 shekels?"

There was something to that, something that made me slightly uncomfortable. 
I apologized immediately and the noble Tali quickly forgave me. After all, 
war is not exactly the right time to bear a grudge against one of your own.

That afternoon I decided to test the effectiveness of the Tali argument on a 
stubborn taxi driver who refused to take me and my baby son in his cab 
because I didn't have a car seat with me.

"Tell me, aren't you ashamed of yourself?" I said, trying to quote Tali as 
precisely as I could. "We're at war. People are getting killed. Missiles are 
falling on Tiberias and all you can think about is your car seat?"

The argument worked here too, and the embarrassed driver quickly apologized 
and told me to hop in. When we got on the highway, he said partly to me, 
partly to himself, "It's a real war, eh?" And after taking a long breath, he 
added nostalgically, "Just like in the old days."

Now that "just like in the old days" keeps echoing in my mind, and I 
suddenly see this whole conflict with Lebanon in a completely different 
light. Thinking back, trying to recreate my conversations with worried 
friends about this war with Lebanon, about the Iranian missiles, the Syrian 
machinations and the assumption that Hezbollah's leader, Sheik Hassan 
Nasrallah, has the ability to strike any place in the country, even Tel 
Aviv, I realize that there was a small gleam in almost everyone's eyes, a 
kind of unconscious breath of relief.

And no, it's not that we Israelis long for war or death or grief, but we do 
long for those "old days" the taxi driver talked about. We long for a real 
war to take the place of all those exhausting years of intifada when there 
was no black or white, only gray, when we were confronted not by armed 
forces, but only by resolute young people wearing explosive belts, years 
when the aura of bravery ceased to exist, replaced by long lines of people 
waiting at our checkpoints, women about to give birth and elderly people 
struggling to endure the stifling heat.

Suddenly, the first salvo of missiles returned us to that familiar feeling 
of a war fought against a ruthless enemy who attacks our borders, a truly 
vicious enemy, not one fighting for its freedom and self-determination, not 
the kind that makes us stammer and throws us into confusion. Once again we're 
confident about the rightness of our cause and we return with lightning 
speed to the bosom of the patriotism we had almost abandoned. Once again, we're 
a small country surrounded by enemies, fighting for our lives, not a strong, 
occupying country forced to fight daily against a civilian population.

So is it any wonder that we're all secretly just a tiny bit relieved? Give 
us Iran, give us a pinch of Syria, give us a handful of Sheik Nasrallah and 
we'll devour them whole. After all, we're no better than anyone else at 
resolving moral ambiguities. But we always did know how to win a war.

Etgar Keret is the author of "The Nimrod Flip-Out.'' This article was 
translated by Sondra Silverstone from the Hebrew.


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