Gettysburg and Nahal Oz

Nahal Oz (Hebrew: נחל עוז, or “Mighty Stream”) is a kibbutz in southern Israel. Located in the northwestern part of the Negev desert close to the border with Gaza and near the development of Sderot and etivot. In 2022, it had a population of 479. The kibbutz was founded in 1951 as the country’s first Nahal settlement. Nahal, a Hebrew acronym from Noar Halutzi Lohem translated to mean Pioneering Fighting Youth, is an Israeli army brigade that was formed with the express mission of establishing settlements in Israel proper before 1967 and in occupied territories after 1967. They were designed to establish a presence in either border or less desirable areas and then, after a few years, be turned over to civilian settlement.

Nahal symbol
Image courtesy Wikipedia Commons

The unit’s symbol and shoulder patch contain a sickle overlaid on a sword to represent the dual military and agricultural mission of the unit.

Currently, Nahal is a program that combines military service with mostly social welfare and informal education projects such as youth movement activities, as well as training in entrepreneurship in urban development areas.

Gettysburg, Pennsylvania is a borough and town with a population of 8,500. The Battle of Gettysburg, fought from July 1–3, 1863, in and around Gettysburg, Pennsylvania was a turning point in the Civil War. It was the Civil War’s bloodiest battle, claiming over 50,000 combined casualties over three days. A modern-day comparison would be the WW2 landing at Normandy which had a total of about 9,000 killed.

Lincoln’s speech was made at the formal dedication of the Soldiers’ National Cemetery, the Gettysburg National Cemetery, in Pennsylvania on the afternoon of November 19, 1863, four and a half months after the Union armies defeated Confederate forces at Gettysburg.

Lincoln at Gettysburg (Image courtesy Wikipedia Commons)

Lincolns Gettysburg address is 271 words:

“Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate—we can not consecrate—we can not hallow—this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”

Ro’i Rothberg was born in Tel Aviv in 1935. He served as a messenger boy for the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) during the 1948 Israeli War of Independence. After studying at an agricultural school and a vocational school, he enlisted in the IDF, joined the infantry, and completed an officer’s course. He finally settled in Nahal Oz, which was the first of the Nahal settlements. He became the Nahal Oz security officer and was regularly involved in chasing off infiltrators from Gaza, sometimes using lethal force.

On 29 April 1956 Ro’i was killed in a prepared ambush by Arabs from Gaza who began to reap wheat in the kibbutz fields. Rothberg saw and rode toward them to chase them off. As he approached, others emerged from hiding to attack him. He was shot off his horse, beaten, and shot again. His body was dragged into Gaza and extensively mutilated. Later that day his body was returned after United Nations intervention. After the killing, Dayan, the then IDF Chief of Staff, traveled from Tel Aviv to Nahal Oz, a distance of about 100 km (60 miles) for the funeral.

Moshe Dayan at Nahal Oz, 1956 (Image courtesy IDF archives)

Similarly brief, translated from Hebrew into English, Dayan’s eulogy for Ro’i is 395 words:

“Yesterday morning Ro’i was murdered. Dazzled by the calm of the morning, he did not see those waiting in ambush for him at the edge of the furrow. Let us not cast accusations at the murderers today. Why should we blame them for their burning hatred for us? For eight years they have been dwelling in Gaza’s refugee camps, as before their eyes we have transformed the land and the villages in which they and their forefathers had dwelled into our own property.

We should not seek Roi’s blood from the Arabs in Gaza but from ourselves. How have we shut our eyes and not faced up forthrightly to our fate, not faced up to our generation’s mission in all its cruelty? Have we forgotten that this group of lads, who dwell in Nahal Oz, is carrying on its shoulders the heavy gates of Gaza, on whose other side crowd hundreds of thousands of eyes and hands praying for our moment of weakness, so that they can tear us apart – have we forgotten that?…

We are the generation of settlement; without a steel helmet and the muzzle of the cannon we will not be able to plant a tree and build a home. Our children will not have a life if we do not dig shelters, and without barbed wire and machine guns we will not be able to pave roads and dig water wells. Millions of Jews who were exterminated because they had no land are looking at us from the ashes of Israeli history and ordering us to settle and resurrect a land for our people. But beyond the border’s furrow an ocean of hatred and an urge for vengeance rises, waiting for the moment that calm will blunt our readiness, for the day that we heed the ambassadors of conspiring hypocrisy, who call upon us to put down our arms.

Let us not flinch from seeing the loathing that accompanies and fills the lives of hundreds of thousands of Arabs who dwell around us and await the moment they can reach for our blood. Let us not avert our eyes lest our hands grow weak. This is the destiny of our generation. This is the choice of our lives – to be ready and armed and strong and tough. For if the sword falls from our fist, our lives will be cut down.”

Tragically, Nahal Oz made the headlines again on October 7, 2023 when more than 15 civilian inhabitants were killed and eight were taken hostage to Gaza during the Hamas attack. The trauma of that attack, and the resulting war in Gaza has changed Israel irrevocably and will echo for generations.

For many Israelis, the reality around them today, in 2024, is unchanged from that which confronted Dayan at the time of Roi’s murder in 1956, sixty eight years ago. Many Israelis view the Palestinian conflict as eternal and unchanging, condemning Israel to live by the sword for the foreseeable future. Dayan recognized the Palestinian attachment to the land which, while denied by many Israelis, nonetheless continues to this day. Many claim that Dayan’s harsh and unyielding philosophy, formulated at a time when the country was far smaller and weaker than it is today, has blinded Israel to opportunities in which negotiation and moderation may have produced a more permanent peaceful outcome.

During these sad times in Israel, in which so many names continue to be added to the thousands that followed in Ro’i Rotberg’s footsteps, Dayan’s speech will serve as a source of inspiration for some, but as a reason for despair for others.

While there are very few comparisons between the American Civil War and Israel’s 100 year war with the Palestinians, nonetheless we can compare the speeches and words of inspiring leaders during times of armed conflict. Both Lincoln’s speech and Dayan’s eulogy emphasized the weight of their respective nations’ trials and tribulations, the unwavering resolve to realize the vision of their respective nations for their people, and the commitment to a future for each nation. Both speeches reverberate far beyond the times in which they were written, are relevant today and continue to have an impact decades after they were written.

There are however some critical differences to observe. Lincoln ends his speech with the following phrases: “…we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”

Dayan ends his eulogy with the following: “Let us not flinch from seeing the loathing that accompanies and fills the lives of hundreds of thousands of Arabs who dwell around us and await the moment they can reach for our blood. Let us not avert our eyes lest our hands grow weak. This is the destiny of our generation. This is the choice of our lives – to be ready and armed and strong and tough. For if the sword falls from our fist, our lives will be cut down.”

We look to our leaders to inspire and motivate us with their words and vision for the future. Lincoln gives us a message of hope and freedom. Dayan presents a reality that seems unchanged in the ensuing 68 years. Dayan’s dire message, in the shadow of October 7, seems eternal, prophetic, relevant to this day, and paints a bleak picture of Sparta – a life of struggle, defense, and living by the sword ad infinitum.

It truly leads one to think that if Israel, 76 years after its founding, continues to live by the prophetic phrases Dayan voiced in 1956, can there be any hope in our lifetimes for a peaceful resolution of the Israel – Palestinian conflict which has raged for 100 years. How many more thousands need to sacrifice their lives before this conflict ends?