it’s not intentional
death to arabs!
death to arabs!
chanted
a couple hundred
far right israeli demonstrators
one thursday evening in april
at the damascus gate
in jerusalem
to israeli muslims
that gathered to evening prayer
breaking ramadan fast
two weeks after
betzalel smotrich
far right israeli politician
had claimed
that all muslims
should know
that israel
exclusively belonged to jews
and who didn’t accept it
shouldn’t stay here
betzalel smotrich
got voted into knesset
after the march elections
as an ally of bibi netanyahu
if in the upcoming ten days
bibi could have formed a government
betzalel smotrich would have been
a minister
in the israeli government…
it is saturday morning
barukh lies on his couch
reading the novel
septembers of shiraz
written by dalia sofer
a piano player
a socialist professor
and a diamond merchant
walks into the prison shower
after
arrested
imprisoned
and tortured
by the iranian revolutionary guard
they can use the shower
once a week
to wash themselves
and their clothes
the three men are naked
their bodies show signs of torture
burn marks
from cigarettes
pressed into their skins
by interrogators
scars
bruises
and gangrenous feet
before the islamic revolution
the three men had lived
completely different lives
what brought them together
in the prison shower
was the fact that
neither of them
had run away in time
from the fundamentalist terror
the love for their homeland
the good life
the kind of wealth
they couldn’t
quickly convert to cash
kept them in iran
barukh finds this
prison scene
familiar
he read similar stories
written by györgy faludy
the canadian-hungarian author
about hungarian prisons
hungarian interrogators
hungarian burn marks
hungarian bruises
and gangrenous feet
barukh was born in an era
in a country
where
and when
torturers
and tortured
were still alive
barukh knew someone
formerly tortured
who had kept a packed suitcase
under his bed
just in case
he had to make a run for it
so when barukh reads
about the iranian revolution
he can see people
in his mind’s eye
who are not well-tended actors
playing the parts of characters
but hungarian looks
hungarian faces
when he reads about interrogators
he keeps seeing uncle józsi
the greasy
bald
stocky
member of the communist militia
who
with his wife
aunt annush
lived in the neighbouring apartment
in barukh’s childhood
as he thinks of uncle józsi
barukh lowers the book
and his eyes sweep around
the salon in jerusalem
he contemplates
the piano player
the socialist professor
and the diamond merchant
and bibi
and betzalel
and itamar
and the demonstrators
who wish for arabs to die
barukh supposes
he and his family
don’t have
actual valuables
thank god
that couldn’t fit into
a suitcase
or two
that would be painful
to leave behind
if they had to make a run for it…
barukh is not an arab
actually
he is jewish
but he lived enough
to know
that those
who want arabs to die
sooner or later
will demand
the death of troublemakers
slash traitors
like barukh
as well
if they get enough encouragement
from bibi
betzalel
itamar
and others
barukh can’t help it
but on that saturday morning
he starts to pack
hypothetically
this can stay behind
this is essential
this is not necessary
this is not important
this is to be packed
barukh is not moving
he is lying on his couch
the novel
about the iranian revolution
resting on his chest
only his mind is at work
he can’t help it
it’s not intentional
as it’s not intentantional either
that he loves israel
with jews
arabs
muslims
and christians
with street signs
in hebrew
in english
and in arabic
it’s not intentional
that he doesn’t need exclusivity
it’s not intentional
that he doesn’t feel israel
belongs less to him
just because
others make it their own
he loves it
just like
the piano player
the socialist professor
and the diamond merchant
loved iran
just like
faludy loved hungary