Remembering Rabin
Ten years ago, Prime Minister Yitzchak Rabin was murdered at the end of a rally in favor a controversial peace agreement known as the Oslo Accords. Although he'd spent many years as a "hawk" in the military, during his second term as Prime Minister he became known as a "dove" in seeking peace with Israel's enemies and was assassinated by a far-right, religious Jewish terrorist who viewed the peace agreement as treason to the state of Israel.
Since his death, every year in the square in which he was murdered (now known as Rabin Square) thousands of people gather to honor his memory and remember his dream. Rabin Square is located in downtown Tel Aviv and the tone of the ceremony often changes depending on the circumstances. I remember when I went to the ceremony two years ago, there were abut 100,000 people present and it was a very somber ceremony. Rabin had been killed years before, and it seemed like his dream of peace in this land was farther away than ever. There were suicide bombs exploding all over the country while the separation barrier was dividing the land up into pieces. The Israeli left (the majority of the attendees at the Rabin memorials) were caught between desire for personal safety and security along with the wish that all people could live together in peace, without towering walls of concrete separating them and all the economic hardship they represented.
Not to say that those issues no longer exist, but today they exist in a different form. Israel is in a different place than it was just two years ago. The separation barrier is larger and more complete. There are many many fewer bombings. The Israeli government recently pulled out of the settlements in Gaza and some of the northern West Bank. The settlements surrounding Jerusalem are expanding. And on top of all this is the issue of national politics. A few days before the ceremony, a newly elected chairman of one of the major political parties (and Rabin's party) was invited to speak at the rally. It seemed like the entire country was poised to hear what he had to say. Oh, and Bill Clinton was also supposed to be there.
So some seven friends of mine and I arranged to meet in downtown Jerusalem to take a shared taxi to Tel Aviv for the main ceremony Saturday night. I was traveling with four other men and three other women. It should be noted that three of these men and one of these women were dressed obviously religious (kipa/skullcap or long skirt). As we got into the van, there were two others who joined us. My friend struck up a conversation with one of the Israelis.
My friend asked, "Are you going to the rally?"
"Oh, no, I'm just going to meet a friend for dinner," he responded.
"Oh, that's funny. I thought you looked like a lefty," my friend joked, referring to those who are politically left-wing (peace-niks).
The surprised man looked at my friend and said, "What, are you going to the rally?"
"Yeah, we all are."
"Funny, you don't look like a lefty!"
Religious people aren't peace-niks here. They just aren't. We were a van filled with contradictions of Israeli stereotypes.
So we struck up a conversation with the man, talking a lot about the current political mess going on in Israel and what we thought the rally would consist of and how the upcoming elections will turn out. At one point, our new friend referred to a few years ago when the political situation in Israel was also in pieces. He said that like most of Israel he looked up to Clinton so highly. "I know I'm not American, but during those years I really felt that Bill Clinton was my president," he said candidly.
His words echoed in my head as Clinton took the stage later that evening to address the 200,000 people gathered in Rabin Square. He recalled the great man who had been his friend and who he worked with in trying to make the a more peaceful Middle East.He ended by urging the audience to take up Rabin's peace-work and follow it through to the end. Throughout the evening we remembered Yitzchak Rabin's life and death, saw the beginning of a new political leadership, and the end of another, hoped for a future peace, and sang songs of remembrance and peace.
Of course, this being Israel, that night I was able to run into a number of friends I hadn't seen in ages, hear Clinton speak in person, hear a number of my favorite Israeli musicians perform live, and be part of what some are calling the new face of the Israeli left with the first speech of the new political chairman. But mostly, I had the opportunity to stand with 200,000 others who believed in the reality of working towards peace in memory of Rabin and the necessity of peace for a viable future in this land.
B'Shalom,
In Peace,
sarah....
Since his death, every year in the square in which he was murdered (now known as Rabin Square) thousands of people gather to honor his memory and remember his dream. Rabin Square is located in downtown Tel Aviv and the tone of the ceremony often changes depending on the circumstances. I remember when I went to the ceremony two years ago, there were abut 100,000 people present and it was a very somber ceremony. Rabin had been killed years before, and it seemed like his dream of peace in this land was farther away than ever. There were suicide bombs exploding all over the country while the separation barrier was dividing the land up into pieces. The Israeli left (the majority of the attendees at the Rabin memorials) were caught between desire for personal safety and security along with the wish that all people could live together in peace, without towering walls of concrete separating them and all the economic hardship they represented.
Not to say that those issues no longer exist, but today they exist in a different form. Israel is in a different place than it was just two years ago. The separation barrier is larger and more complete. There are many many fewer bombings. The Israeli government recently pulled out of the settlements in Gaza and some of the northern West Bank. The settlements surrounding Jerusalem are expanding. And on top of all this is the issue of national politics. A few days before the ceremony, a newly elected chairman of one of the major political parties (and Rabin's party) was invited to speak at the rally. It seemed like the entire country was poised to hear what he had to say. Oh, and Bill Clinton was also supposed to be there.
So some seven friends of mine and I arranged to meet in downtown Jerusalem to take a shared taxi to Tel Aviv for the main ceremony Saturday night. I was traveling with four other men and three other women. It should be noted that three of these men and one of these women were dressed obviously religious (kipa/skullcap or long skirt). As we got into the van, there were two others who joined us. My friend struck up a conversation with one of the Israelis.
My friend asked, "Are you going to the rally?"
"Oh, no, I'm just going to meet a friend for dinner," he responded.
"Oh, that's funny. I thought you looked like a lefty," my friend joked, referring to those who are politically left-wing (peace-niks).
The surprised man looked at my friend and said, "What, are you going to the rally?"
"Yeah, we all are."
"Funny, you don't look like a lefty!"
Religious people aren't peace-niks here. They just aren't. We were a van filled with contradictions of Israeli stereotypes.
So we struck up a conversation with the man, talking a lot about the current political mess going on in Israel and what we thought the rally would consist of and how the upcoming elections will turn out. At one point, our new friend referred to a few years ago when the political situation in Israel was also in pieces. He said that like most of Israel he looked up to Clinton so highly. "I know I'm not American, but during those years I really felt that Bill Clinton was my president," he said candidly.
His words echoed in my head as Clinton took the stage later that evening to address the 200,000 people gathered in Rabin Square. He recalled the great man who had been his friend and who he worked with in trying to make the a more peaceful Middle East.He ended by urging the audience to take up Rabin's peace-work and follow it through to the end. Throughout the evening we remembered Yitzchak Rabin's life and death, saw the beginning of a new political leadership, and the end of another, hoped for a future peace, and sang songs of remembrance and peace.
Of course, this being Israel, that night I was able to run into a number of friends I hadn't seen in ages, hear Clinton speak in person, hear a number of my favorite Israeli musicians perform live, and be part of what some are calling the new face of the Israeli left with the first speech of the new political chairman. But mostly, I had the opportunity to stand with 200,000 others who believed in the reality of working towards peace in memory of Rabin and the necessity of peace for a viable future in this land.
B'Shalom,
In Peace,
sarah....
posted by sarah @ 2:24 AM
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