A Right-winger at a Leftist Protest

I opened my phone this morning to devastating news and actual tears, the first time I shed tears since Oct. 7th. Rachel Goldberg Polin’s son Hersh was murdered after 335 days in captivity. It didn’t help that she had spoken to the pope, to multiple world leaders, at the DNC convention, and that she was named one of the world’s most influential people on Time 100. When it comes to savage monsters that go by the name of Hamas even the world’s best and brightest diplomats don’t have any political sway.

As luck would have it I had business to attend to in the Gush Dan area and once I was already there I decided to go to Shuk Hakarmel to buy some American snacks for my kids in honor of their first day of school. By the time I arrived back at the Azrieli towers to take a bus back home to Ashdod the streets were beginning to be blocked and someone handed me a flag. Since I now anyways had no way of going home I decided to join the rally. 

Something felt eerily familiar and it took me a few minutes to be able to place what I was feeling in this crowd of solemn yet powerful energy. The experience felt deeply spiritual and I was immediately struck by so many symbols and mantras that reminded me of slichot recited during this month of Elul. The blue and white flags brought to mind the white and blue machzorim, the plastic touting horns blasting in unison every so often made me think of the shofar blowing to heed in the month of Elul. There was a palpable cry which was so reminiscent of the chazzan praying בן אדם מה לך נרדם קום קרא בתחנונים. 

When they cried out חיים, חיות, ולא בארונות I couldn’t help but think about בספר חיים זכרנו וכתבנו.

They recited the name of each and every hostage being held in Gaza and they responded עכשיו and in my head all I could hear was Amen.

When they called out הופקרו חיילנו אחותינו ואחינו I inwardly answered בדיל ויעבור.

I thought of Vidui recited during slichot and I couldn’t help but think about all the ways we intentionally and unintentionally sinned.

Ashamnu – אשמנו – We’re guilty of believing that our brothers would be safe 300 meters from the wall with Gaza and we complacently allowed them to live in a place which wasn’t safe.

Bagadnu – בגדנו – We betrayed our brothers and left them alone in safe rooms for tens of hours without any backup while they heard the cries of Allah Akbar all around them.

Gazalnu – גזלנו – We stole the lives and the innocence of our nation’s children.

Dibarnu Dofi – דיברנו דופי – We fractured the unity of our nation and resorted to name calling which only encouraged our enemies.

The word which was repeatedly chanted over and over was הפקרות. The dictionary translates this word as abandonment but it means so much more. It means utter and reckless abandon.

Hefkarnu – הפקרנו – We abandoned our fellow brothers first from the South when we didn’t listen to the tatzpataniot and the commanders. We abandoned our brothers who were displaced from the North. We abandoned our brothers in the dark tunnels of Gaza.

At one point one of the organizers called out the name of each of the six hostages and everyone answered סליחה at the mentioning of each name.

I couldn’t help but think of another story which took place 79 years ago and which I heard first-hand from Lieutenant Birnbaum. He was an American officer who liberated a death camp in Nazi Germany. An emaciated skeletal man asked for a machzor and said that he needs to repent, he needs to do teshuva. Lt. Birnbaum asked him why and he said it was because he murdered his father. A sadistic Nazi guard had said that he wanted a son to kill his father because otherwise he would murder a large group of Jews. The man’s father told his son to hang him in the gallows that the guard had set up.

The same nation 79 years later, compelled to ask forgiveness for not being able to save their fellow brothers from the hands of bloodthirsty savage monsters. 

They ended off the rally with reciting ברוך דיין האמת six times and all I could think of was the prayer of נעילה where we repeatedly recite ה’ הוא האלוקים.

This was not a religious crowd and the demographics seemed to be mostly older secular Ashkenazim. Most of the youth seemed to be from הצופים, the Israeli equivalent of Boy Scouts which are mostly in more upscale secular Ashkenazi neighborhoods.

I saw people who deeply cared regardless of the fact that I’m fundamentally opposed to much of their demands. I don’t want a quarter of an inch of the Philadelphi crossing back in the hands of those monsters. I don’t want those monsters to ever think for even a fraction of a second that they have a tenth of an ounce of leverage over us.

As I left the rally I couldn’t help but think of a few of the distinguished older gentleman past the age of miluim with green shirts proclaiming אחים לנשק and Gedud 44. I imagined that they may have been high ranking officers, maybe even pilots in the air force. They had sacrificed their lives for this country which is a lot more than I could say about myself.

I saw people who because of their relentless activism we are all familiar with the names and pictures of the hostages. I saw that Israel needs both Leftists to cry and scream and demand that Jewish blood isn’t cheap as well as the unwavering determination of our current government to not give into any demands that will undermine our country’s future security. 

I held the flag not as a Leftist, not as a Right winger, but as a Jewish woman proclaiming loudly to the world that Hersh Goldberg Polin’s cruel murder is simply unacceptable.