Most Diaspora Jews want to help our people in Israel in response to the latest Gaza war. Giving money is one way. However, though the special fundraising campaigns on behalf of Israel are appropriate, what Israelis seem to need more is for us to be by their side, even if we don’t intend to stay.
When Hamas rockets rain down on the population and Israel is at war, burdened by the deaths of civilians on the other side and criticized for taking “disproportionate” steps to defend itself, Jews in Israel need to be reassured that their sisters and brothers in the Diaspora are with them, not only in their generosity, but also, as it were, in the flesh. When allies waver, Jews are called upon to remain steadfast and committed, whether or not they support the government in power.
Tourism is always said to help the Israeli economy more than funds raised abroad. Much of what visitors spend goes into the pockets of people who need it most: low-earning hotel and restaurant workers, taxi drivers, shopkeepers, etc. Visitors are likely to make a greater economic contribution to the country than if they stay at home and send money. To paraphrase the cliché on many an invitation: Israel needs our presence more than our presents. And if other airlines won’t fly us, El Al will.
In the current situation, visitors also become invaluable morale boosters whose very presence helps ease the Israelis’ sense of vulnerability and isolation. When many stayed away during past intifadahs, I witnessed how the few who came were greeted with enthusiasm and true appreciation. They helped to remind Israelis that they weren’t alone.
Individual visits are likely to mean more than orchestrated “missions.” The latter are, of course, also welcome, but participants tend to pay too much attention to photo ops with officials. I’ve heard Israelis ask themselves whether “missionaries” are there to see or to be seen. It’s the ordinary folk who come to be with their relatives and friends or just show solidarity with fellow Jews that are most likely to warm the hearts of ordinary Israelis.
But it seems that “missions” are more popular than individual visits. I’ve now heard of many who have “postponed” their personal travel, awaiting better times. When asked for advice, I’ve said that though it’s not for me to tell others what to do, I’d most decidedly not delay my own journey.
On the contrary. Though circumstances don’t permit my wife and me to return to Israel just now, we’re doing our best to go there as soon as possible – and stay.
Many who attend local solidarity rallies and “briefings” are tempted to compensate their reluctance to visit by subscribing to the most hawkish responses to the crisis, perhaps also as a reaction to the usual negative media comments about Israel. But we must beware not to urge Israelis to be brave on our behalf while we stay at home, far away from the action.
Even if they know in Israel about our campaigns, our rallies, our letters to editors and other expressions of legitimate support, and of our deeply felt indignation with the habitual and outrageous Israel bashers, I surmise that they’d rather see us in Israel, even if we’re critical of their government’s handling of the situation and heartbroken over the internal squabbles and the inflated rhetoric of some politicians. Chastisements on the ground are likely to be more comforting and more effective than adulation from afar. Shaking the hands of others is more genuine than applauding with our own.
That’s how I understand the message of Bonna Devora Haberman, Israeli academic, author and feminist. Writing in the Times of Israel last month, she calls upon us to respond to the red alert by being there.
She concludes: “In short, we appreciate your prayers, your messages of concern and your criticism. Please deliver them. In person. To a shelter near us.”