Olympic Calm

After a quiet Saturday in Israel, I could only write about the number of Olympic medals in one day. Watching the Olympic or any sports tournaments and competitions has never been one of my must-dos. This year is no different. Yet, Israeli medalists are providing some distraction. It’s nice to have a few minutes on the news about bronze, silver, gold medals. An athlete emoting over our national anthem being played on the stage. In another year, I would be more moved by this, because it is nice to have a sense of national pride by those representing us.

The sports broadcasters are elated, and it is contagious when you watch here and there. Judo Coach Oren Smadja, himself an Olympic medalist over 30 years ago, almost didn’t attend the games. His photos with Peter Paltchik when he won the bronze medal pierced every Israeli heart. Smadja’s son fell at the end of June – war.

But the only victories over which presumably we can be united are Olympic.

Just a week ago, a Hezbollah attack killed 12 Druze youth – a reminder of vulnerability.  Followed by a reminder of capability on Tuesday when Israel attacked in Beirut. An attack in Teheran attributed.

Retaliation tension sets in. Everyone is tense and anxious- waiting for it to happen. In April, it took two weeks. Haim’s daughter is scared. The grandkids don’t really know we are waiting for something to happen.

On Thursday evening, our 6-1/2-year-old saw her dad in khaki trousers and T-shirt again – and he’s only waiting to possibly be called up. What made her ask as she did, if “they” shot at him, and if he had seen Hamas? But what do kids know?

Haim’s brother spoke to us Friday morning suggesting all the worst scenarios which did wonders for my state of mind. But we just don’t know. I do cooking therapy. Rolling rice in vine leaves.  Still, something about a wooden spoon makes me raise my voice. Haim says, “I thought cooking was your therapy.”

At dinner time, with the kids, talking with Haim’s son about herding water bottles and dry food every time the tension levels rise. This time, without the Home Front Command giving such instructions for civilians – yet. As he says to me, it’s absurd that this has become the new normal.

Saturday morning calm. Emptying the dishwasher, a bowl slips out of my hand and shatters. Grinding coffee, and somehow the powder reaches the floor before the French press. Calm. I am. You know this could happen to me anytime.

We drive to Tira, the adjacent Arab town in Israel, where I buy my 5 kilo fix of Medjool dates every time I finish a box. Frequently.

We stop at an ATM. It’s another part of the new normal. Should there be hours without electric power, and you can’t use your credit cards or apps at the grocery, you should have cash.

Going to Tira reminds me of a webinar I attended on Wednesday by an Israeli social psychology research center. A depressing webinar. How few Jewish Israelis and Palestinian citizens of Israel believe in shared society and equality. Even among those who define themselves as liberal democrats. But why go there?

I can just go back to the inability of the overwhelming majority of Israelis and Palestinians from the West Bank to believe that there are any partners for peace on the other side. Another video clip I shall try to avoid has been released by the victim’s family – another Israeli murdered and the kidnapped body mutilated by Hamas on October 7. The pain of loss and under such brutal circumstances.  Getting footage of it that was obviously taken from Hamas body cameras. I read that the father said this video shows, and serves to remind us, that there are no innocent people in Gaza.

I work with bereaved Israelis and Palestinians who have lost loved ones to the conflict over the years, on October 7, and thereafter. In their commitment to peace and reconciliation, they use their stories of loss and grieving combined with the decision to act together towards peace as a tool which generates an emotional breakthrough for Israelis and Palestinians who hear pairs – a bereaved Israeli and a bereaved Palestinian – telling their stories. The emotional breakthrough for the listener dispels the vision of the demon by the encounter with another human being in pain. There are those who hear about such activity and condemn it. Such Israelis would call their fellow Israelis accomplices to terrorists and Palestinians would call their fellow Palestinians collaborators with the Occupation – basic examples.

But grieving has impact. If a bereaved father tells his story – or has a video clip that tells what happened to his son – and claims that this is indication that there are no innocent people in Gaza, that too, has emotional impact. Convincing Israelis that there are no good people in Gaza. I can only argue otherwise.

Emotional impact in a calm society, on an uneventful Saturday.

Every night since Tuesday, a country is back to a routine question repeated frequently for the last 10 months. Will we sleep through the night? Will we wake up to air raid sirens towards dawn?

And I am disturbed by another question for months: How does Netanyahu dare to wear the yellow ribbon pin I wear, like many, many others, symbolizing our demand that everything possible be done to bring the hostages home now? There are still 115 hostages (alive and dead) in Gaza. Is bringing them home now a Netanyahu priority? Part of a strategy? Strategy? The national unity, that were it a possibility, Netanyahu has systematically eroded over the past several years leads to nothing victorious.

Let’s talk about Olympic medals.

Harriet Gimpel, August 3, 2024