A TENACITY TO LIVE

December 31st, 2014

A little personal story

Background…

My life, starting at the ripe age of 15, when I joined the Underground to liberate Israel from British occupation, was so full of challenging events that a month seemed like a year, a year seemed like a lifetime. From running way from British bullets when gluing pamphlets in the streets, to facing the reality that my young, beloved leader, Menachem Rivenbach, only 18, was just killed in a Lechi Underground operation. So much happened, so many friends lost, and so many emotions were buried in me since I could not share them with anyone. I was not alone with this isolation, since we knew that we could be the next one to go, our emotions were well-hidden, no external recognitions of personal loss. Even when the body of our murdered kibbutz friend was in a casket on the truck with us seating around it, we just made jokes.

And we just kept going.

In the Lechi underground, I was mostly alone, until I found my girlfriend, that is. I had to be quiet and unassuming to disappear in a crowd. No personal friends. Not outside, or inside Lechi either. Secrecy above all. Unlike military, we were alone with no release by shared experiences. Just a double life of lies. I was unable to share my story and especially feelings, with anyone. I was unable to tell the truth to any one, especially not to my own family. They must not know or I would be sent away like my brother was.

After spending four years in Lechi fighting the mighty British to liberate Israel - I spent a year at the Lechi border kibbutz, Neve Yair. We were close to the Gaza strip as well as to the established kibbutz Nirim. Arab terrorists murdered savagely three of our members, a few months apart. We got numb to death. On another occasion, coincidentally, when a bullet was shot towards my heart, a tall friend, Yaacov Avnery, was walking in front of me and got the bullet in his stomach since he was taller. Badly injured, he survived. I would not have. I risked my life to get him to the hospital, but that was standard to all of us. I barely thought about it, but when I do, I thanked him in all my heart.

Our small kibbutz was full of challenges, from security to lack of water, but especially for me since I was the only technical guy there. I enjoyed building the electrical system and repairing tractors. I enjoyed dancing nearly every night, until my legs almost gave up. I risked burning to death mounting phosphorus mines under the barbed wired fence since I did not trust anyone else to be as diligent as me. I slide slowly on my back, inch by inch, underneath the barbed wired fence, mounting these fiery mines one after another and activating them. I knew all the time where every part of my body was while I slided on my back not to ignite the mines. In addition to doing all the hard technical tasks nearly alone, I had almost no rest since I also had to guard during my time off.

But the toughest thing was being far from my girlfriend R. - (I missed her a lot, she visited but did not stay in the kibbutz since she was a city girl, desiring comfort that a new kibbutz was unable to give). So, eventually I left the kibbutz after a lot of soul searching. Our Lechi leader Itzhak Shamir (later Israel Prime Minister) asked me to return to the kibbutz. It was hard for me to refuse him since I admired him considerably, but I did not want to return. I then started to relax, with no need to look behind my back if someone was ready to shoot me, either British or an Arab. I was happy to spend some time with my girlfriend, teaching new Yemenite immigrants Hebrew and a new way of life, in a transition camp, a tent city.

And then I was called to military service, I joined the Israel Defense Forces, IDF.

Two months of IDF basic training taught me to take orders, which I did not like, and train others to safely throw live hand grenades. And despite all the discipline troubles I caused my sergeant, (we actually did like one another but he ordered me frequently to run around the training grounds with my gun in the air...) He wanted to send me to officer training, but I was tired of years of duties and did not look forward to committing extra years to military service and told him: thank you, but no.

I served in the Air Force late 1950- to early 52, just 18 months, a shorter service than normal because I got 6 months credit for my four years of Lechi service. I worked in Unit 206, the electronics unit. My huge base originally was Sarafend, later called Zrifim. It was peace time and in the beginning it was not too interesting, equipment maintenance and the like. However, one thing that made it enjoyable was the daily visit from my older brother Pinhas.

Pinhas was doing his officer training at that same huge base, and he felt that he was insufficiently fit physically. So, every day he run around that huge base and visited me on the way.

It was lovely to see him frequently especially after his years in a British prison and later in a British detention camp in Africa after he was arrested as a Lechi leader.

As time passed by, I was assigned to erect tall military antennas around the country. It was fun climbing a very thin 300 feet antenna without any safety belt, and calling friends from above as they passed below, not realizing where I was. I also had to change safety red light bulbs at the top from time to time. I was very careful, I would climb one-step at a time without safety belts, no one used them then, leaving one leg inside the tower structure, and so even if I lost balance, I would be stuck safely up there. Nothing bad ever happened. I learned to be very careful from sliding under the barbed wired fence in the kibbutz.

At other times, I maintained and operated short wave transmitters at several Air Force bases. With 24 hours on and 48 hours off, week, after week, I was busy. During my off periods, I had just enough time to earn money erecting home antennas for private people on Tel Aviv roofs. It was much safer than the IDF jobs. Eliezer Sirkis, a friend from Lechi, had a radio store a short block west of Magen David Square and gave me jobs from time to time erecting roof antennas. My Air Force salary was $4 a month, and it was not sufficient even for bus tickets to go home on vacation. So I used my BSA motorcycle to drive around and worked during my time off to pay for the expensive gasoline.

With all of these risky Lechi understood and border kibbutz life behind me I thought I was safe. Little did I know what was awaiting me in a quite shelter underground.

CLOSE TO DEATH

For several months, I worked at a radio communication station in a bunker at Ramat David, an Air Force base in central Israel . At that quiet base, at that peaceful time in Israel , I came closer to death than any other time in my life.

It was a long trip to the base from my home in Tel Aviv, but working there 24 hours on and 48 hours off was a good arrangement for me. An “Egged” bus would drop me three miles from the base and I would walk to it. As long as it was good weather, it was no trouble at all, especially with a tasty compensation along the way.

The walk to the camp was between lovely apple orchards, belonging to a nearby kibbutz. Many soldiers walked back and forth to the base that way and also liked fresh green apples. They were not bashful stealing them, neither was I. The kibbutz placed foot square green and red signs all along the path saying: “private property, stay off.” And these signs were enforced by five foot high wired fences all around the orchards. Luckily they did not use barbed wired on the top like the ones that surrounded our military bases.

I love fresh fruits and vegetables and I ignored both the signs and the fences and always took my illegal apples as I passed by. I would first check left and right to see that no one was around, and listen that it was quiet for a time. I would then climb quickly the unstable fence, and pick two apples and climb back fast. I knew a lot about fences. I had already build wired fences in our Lechi kibbutz, and even climbed once a ten foot barbed wired fence, which I survived with millions of cuts, so these apple fences were a child’s play to me.

I stuffed the apples immediately in my backpack that contained spare clothes, books, etc and proceeded to the base, my home away from home.

One time I went to the base, but almost did not return. I was so close to heaven, it was sheer determination that saved my life. It was nearly noon and I was eager for a thick cheese sandwich with all the trimmings. I brought with me: tomatoes, cucumbers, and onions, all so fresh- it was picked last evening and brought to market in just a few hours. After smearing the olive oil on the thick slices of black Russian bread, I spread on slices of Feta cheese and vegetables on top, almost drooling with anticipation. Meals were very important events in this boring environment.

There was very little to do alone in these underground bunkers beside reading and studying. On that day, after studying mathematics for a time, I had to stop. I became saturated with numbers and equations. My best high school friend Naftali Vilensky and I were studying mathematics. We hired a private teacher together to help us prepare and I did my homework at the bunker. We were planning to go to the US to study electronics and thought that they were probably so advanced compare to us (since we were 5 years after high school) that we better be prepared. A year later, at the University of Washington , I found out I was so advanced compare to my freshman class that after a short time they moved me to a higher level.

For safety sake, we were supposed to work in teams at the underground transmission centers, but budget cuts had eliminated that a long time ago. We were solidly alone for the duration of the 24 hours shift. No one saw us or knew that we existed. Several times a day I had to change the transmitters’ operating frequency to improve reception at the various bases across the country. We changed frequencies by changing coils, taking one out and replacing it with a different unit.

The powerful 500-watt short wave transmitters were US made, 4 feet cube, boxy, and ominously black. On the front, they had several small lights; one of them -bright red- was especially important. That light indicated that the thousand-volt DC power, enough high voltage to kill you several times over, was on. It alerted us to the danger of possible electrocution when we opened the unit. And several times a day we had to open the top of the transmitters and replace a set of coils.

Another safety feature was wisely built in- a visible power switch. In order to change the coils I had to open a 10 by 10 inch door at the top of the unit to reach the coils. As I opened that little door I saw clearly a large 2-inch long, open safety switch. I could see that the power was interrupted when the door was open by the position of the safety switch. And to be safe I looked again at the front red light. It was dark- clearly off. I believed that all was safe and I started to replace the coil.

I inserted my right hand inside the unit, grabbed the coil inside and froze. I saw only black with some bright stars moving around. I was awake but unable to move at all. Just a piece of granite, for all practical purpose. But something was still alive in me, my brain. I knew that high-level electricity, especially if crossing the heart from my hand to the ground, froze the muscles and thus I had negligible time to act, or die.

I ordered my body: "PULL, PULL, PULL, YOU MUST BREAK THE CONNECTION!" "DO IT NOW."

But my muscles were frozen by the one thousand volt going through me.

As electronic technician I was always careful with electricity, almost always wore rubber-soled shoes for insulation from electricity. I never wore a ring or other metal things on my fingers, to reduce likelihoods of electrocution. And luckily then, I was standing on a thin rubber mat. But none of it helped enough then.

I pulled and pulled with the last strength in my muscles. Nothing.

Finally, my determination broke my frozen state and I pulled my right hand away from the coil with the infinitely small strength I still had.

I have no idea how long it took, but it had to be in milliseconds otherwise I would not be alive. I did not feel any damage or pain. But I did not wait, I was not sure I was really ok so I ran up the concrete stairs to the ground above, saw the beautiful sunlight, breathed my lungs full again and again and said to myself loudly: “I am alive, I am alive!”

A few soldiers passed by looking at me and my strange exhilaration. One of them asked me, are you ok? You seem so white?

I wanted to tell him: if you just knew. But I told him, everything is fine. I could not explain what happened. They would not understand.

I sat on the entrance at ground level, looking around and continued to smile.

Wow! That was a close one.

Finally, after enjoying the beautiful day for a time I went back down and as I approached the door to the transmitter room, I saw again the big sign on the door:

IF YOU LOVE WINE, WOMEN AND SONG, BE CAREFUL, ELECTRICITY CAN KILL YOU.

I saw it many times before, but this time I did clearly know what it meant.

I felt then like killing the bastard who modified the safety switch. If he were there then I would have loved to give him a test of my 1000-volt DC.

I never found that idiot.

*******

Again, the settlers causing problems

October 3rd, 2014

Bit by bit, over many years, the media bias against Israel makes its inroad into our minds. Small lies, fabricated by the street-smart Arabs and EU and aided by anti-Semitic media. Here is one of thousands of examples.

The Sacramento Bee published on 10/2/14, an article by McClatchy, owner of the Bee, titled: “Jewish settlers expand reach.” Our automatic response is, again Jewish settlers are harming peace prospects. So lets’ look at it with some detail.

The anti- Israeli accusers say that this move is anti-peace because first it aggravates the Palestinians and make them less eager to negotiate. And second, this area is Arab and likely to be Palestinian in a future peace agreement. And thus the presence of Jews there would make it harder to reach a future agreement.

Let’s be extremely optimistic and say that despite the fact that the Palestinians have not shown any desire for peace in a century, and despite the unacceptable Gaza experience, there would be had an additional Palestinian region. On what basis should Israel agree that this potential Palestinian area should be Jews-free?

Over a million Arabs live in Israel and can live were ever they want in a free Democratic country.

Why would Jews be unable to do the same, live freely, in any Palestinian state? This is not allowed in any other civilized country, from the US to EU and beyond.

But there is much more here: The now “Arab” "Silwan" neighborhood in Jerusalem was full of Jews before the Arab riots of 1936-39. Arab terrorists murdered, injured and intimidated Jews to leave and thus ethnically cleansed this area of Jews. As they did in Hebron and other places. Should Israel accept Arab’s ethnic cleansing of Jews and not correct it, now that it can? No!

Not only that. Jews have a right to live any place they want in all of Israel, and definitely in Jerusalem, the capital of Israel. That Arabs do not like it, is not a reason for Jews not to live wherever they like, as Israeli Arabs do.

Now, the use of bias words, “settlers” and “occupied,” is a clear sign of biased writing, that is: distorting the facts: The article said that “settlers” “occupied” the apartments. These families simply moved into apartments bought legally from their owners. And these Jews are not “settlers” but normal homeowners.

By its biased accusatory statement on this issue the US government is supporting ethnic bias and Jewish-free zones, which is against our American own laws and core beliefs. The US State Department has always been anti-Israeli since it believes that the US must be pro Arab to have better access to Middle East oil. However, the US now becomes the largest producer of oil in the world. Is it not time to be less pro Arab?

What hypocrisy. The US gov. claims that we are for global justice, Democracy, and human rights. Do we see any of that in the Arab world?

A Tenacity to Live

October 1st, 2014

A TENACITY TO LIVE

A little personal story by Matania Ginosar, 10-2014

Background…

My life, starting at the ripe age of 15, when I joined the Underground to liberate Israel from British occupation, was so full of challenging events that a month seemed like a year, a year seemed like a lifetime. Running way from British bullets when gluing pamphlets in the streets, to facing the reality that my young, beloved leader, Menachem Rivenbach, just 18, was just killed in a Lechi Underground operation. So much happened, so many friends lost, and so many emotions were buried in me. I could not share them with any one. I was not alone, since we knew that we could be the next one to go, our emotions were well-hidden, no external recognitions of personal loss. Even when the body of our murdered kibbutz friend was in a casket on the truck with us around it, we just made jokes. And we just kept going.

In the Lechi nderground, I was mostly alone, until I found my girlfriend, that is. I had to be quiet and unassuming to disappear in a crowd. No personal friends. Not outside, or inside Lechi either. Secrecy above all. No release by shared experiences. Just a double life of lies. I was unable to share my story and especially feelings, with any one. I was unable to tell the truth to any one, especially not to my own family. They must not know or I would be sent away like my brother was.

After spending four years in Lechi fighting the mighty British to liberate Israel - I spent a year at the Lechi border kibbutz, Neve Yair. We were close to the Gaza strip as well as to the established kibbutz Nirim, but they were strangers to us. Even there in a free Israel, we were basically all alone. Arab terrorists murdered savagely three of our members, one after another, a month apart. We got numb to death. On another occasion, coincidentally, when a bullet was shot towards my heart, a tall friend, Yaacov Avnery, was in front of me and got the bullet in his stomach since he was taller. Badly injured, he survived. I would not have. I barely thought about it, but when I do, I thanked him in my heart.

The kibbutz was full of challenges since I was the only technical guy there. I enjoyed building the whole electrical system and repairing tractors. I enjoyed dancing almost every night, until my legs almost gave up. I risked burning to death mounting phosphorus mines under the barbed wired fence since I did not trust any one else to be as diligent as me. I slide slowly on my back, inch by inch, underneath the barbed wired fence, mounting these fiery mines one after another. In addition to doing all the hard technical jobs nearly alone, I had no rest since I also had to guard during my time off. But the toughest thing was being far from my girlfriend Razia- (I missed her a lot, she did not stay in the kibbutz since she was a city girl, desiring comfort that a new kibbutz was unable to give). So, I left the kibbutz after a lot of soul searching. Our Lechi leader Itzhak Shamir asked me to return, but I did not want to. It was hard to refuse him. I then relaxed, spending some months with Razia teaching Hebrew to new immigrants in central Israel, and then joined the Israel Defense Forces, IDF.

After two months of IDF basic training, learning to take orders and command others, and despite all the troubles I caused my sergeant, (we actually did like one another) he wanted to send me to officer training. I was tired of duties and did not look forward to committing extra years to military service and told him: thank you, but no.

I served in the Air Force late 1950- to early 52, 18 months, a shorter service than normal because I got 6 months credit for my four years of Lechi service. I worked in the electronics unit. My base originally was in Sarafend, later called Zrifim. It was peace time and in the beginning it was not too interesting, equipment maintenance and the like. However, one thing that made it enjoyable was the daily visit from my older brother Pinhas.

Pinhas was doing officer training at that same huge base, and he told me that he felt he was insufficiently fit physically. So, every day he would run around that huge base and visit me on the way.

It was lovely to see him frequently especially after his years in British prison and later in a British detention camp in Africa.

As time passed by, I was assigned to erect tall military antennas around the country. It was fun climbing a 300 feet antenna without any safety belt, and calling friends from above as they passed below, not realizing where I was. I also had to change the safety red light bulbs at the top from time to time. I was very careful, for safety I would climb one-step at a time, leaving one leg inside the tower structure, so even if I lost balance, I would be stuck safely up there. Nothing bad ever happened.

At other times, I maintained and operated short wave transmitters at several Air Force bases. With 24 hours on and 48 hours off, week, after week, I had no time off. During my off times, I had enough time to earn money erecting home antennas on Tel Aviv roofs for private people. It was much safer there.

A friend of mine from Lechi, Eliezer Sirkis had a radio store a short block west of Magen David Square and gave me jobs from time to time erecting roof antennas. My Air Force salary was $4 a month, and it was not sufficient even for bus tickets to go home on vacation. So I used my BSA motorcycle to drive around and worked during my time off to pay for the expensive gasoline.

Close to death

For several months, I worked at a radio communication station under the ground at Ramat David, an Air Force base in central Israel. At that quiet base, at that peaceful time in Israel, I came closer to death than any other time in my life.

It was a long trip to the base from my home in Tel Aviv, but working there 24 hours on and 48 hours off was a good arrangement for me. An “Egged” bus would drop me two or three miles from the base and I would walk to it. As long as it was good weather, it was no trouble at all, especially with a tasty compensation along the way.

The walk to the camp was between lovely apple orchards, belonging to a near by kibbutz. Many soldiers walked back and forth to the base that way and also liked fresh green apples. They were not bashful stealing them, neither was I. The kibbutz placed foot square green and red signs all along the path saying: “private property, stay off.” And these signs were enforced by five foot high wired fences all around the orchards. Luckily they did not use barbed wired on the top like the ones that surrounded our military bases.

I love fresh fruits and vegetables and I ignored both the signs and the fences and always took my illegal apples as I passed by. I would first checked left and then right to see that no one was around, and verified that it was quiet for a time. I would then climb quickly the unstable fence, and pick two apples and climb back fast. I knew a lot about fences. I had already build wired fences in our Lechi kibbutz, and even climbed once a huge barbed wired fence, which I survived with millions of cuts, so these fences were a child’s play to me.

I stuffed the apples immediately in my backpack that contained spare clothes, books, etc and proceeded to the base, my home away from home.

One of the times, I went to the base as normal, but almost did not return. I was so close to heaven, it was sheer determination that saved my life. On my visits, I brought with me a variety of foods for the few meals I would prepare for myself there. It was nearly noon and I was eager for a thick cheese sandwich with all the trimmings. I brought with me: tomatoes, cucumbers, and onions, all so fresh- it was picked that last evening and brought to market in just a few hours. After smearing the olive oil on the thick slices of black Russian bread, I spread on slices of Feta cheese and the vegetables on top, almost drooling with anticipation. Meals were very important events in this boring environment.

There was very little to do alone in these underground bunkers and after studying mathematics for a time, I had to stop. It was boring. I became saturated with numbers and equations. At the time, I was studying mathematics with my best high school friend Naftali Vilensky. We were planning to go to the US to study electronics and thought that they were probably so advanced compare to us that we better be prepared. A year later, at the University of Washington, I found out I was so advanced compare to my Freshman class that after a short time they moved me to a higher level.

Naftali and I hired a private teacher together to help us prepare and I did my homework at the bunker.

For safety sake, we were supposed to work in teams at the transmission centers, but budget cuts had eliminated that a long time ago. We were solidly alone for the duration of the 24 hours shift. No one saw us or knew that we existed. Several times a day I had to change the transmitters’ operating frequency. We changes frequency, by changing coils, to improve reception at the various bases across the country.

The powerful 500-watt short wave transmitters were US made, 4 feet cube, boxy, and ominously black. On the front, they had several small lights; one of them -bright red- was especially important. That light indicated that the thousand-volt DC power, enough high voltage to kill you several times over, was on. It alerted us to the danger of possible electrocution when we opened the unit. And several times a day we had to open the top of the transmitters and replace a set of coils.

Another safety feature was wisely built in- a visible power switch. In order to change the coils I had to open a 10 by 10 inch door at the top of the unit to reach the coils. As I opened that little door to change the coils, I saw clearly a large 2-inch long, open safety switch. I could easily see that the power was interrupted when the door was open by the position of the safety switch. And to be safe I looked again at the red light. It was dark- clearly off. I believed that was safe and I was ready to replace the coil.

I inserted my right hand inside the unit, grabbed the coil and froze. I saw only black and some bright stars moving around. I was awake but unable to move at all. Just a piece of granite, for all practical purpose. But something was still alive in me, my brain. I knew that high-level electricity, especially crossing the heart from my hand to the ground, froze the muscles and thus I had negligible time to act, or never again.

I ordered myself: PULL, PULL, you must break the connection!

But my muscles were frozen by the one thousand volt going through me.

I was usually careful, almost always wore rubber-soled shoes for insulation from electricity. I never wore a ring or other metal things on my fingers, to reduce likelihoods of electrocution. And luckily, I was standing on a thin rubber mat.

I pulled and pulled with the last strength in my muscles. Nothing.

Finally, I pulled my right hand away from the coil with the infinitely small strength I still had.

After whatever time it took, I had no idea but I am sure it was milliseconds, I broke the connection and my hand was free.

I did not wait, I was not sure I was really ok so I ran up the stairs to the ground above, saw the beautiful sunlight, breathed my lungs full again and again and said to my self loudly: “I am alive, I am alive!”

A few solders passed by looking at me and my strange exhilaration. One of them asked me, are you ok? You seem so white?

I wanted to tell him, if you just knew. But I told him, everything was fine. I could not explain what happened. They would not understand.

I sat on the entrance at ground level, looking around and continued to smile.

Wow! That was a close one.

Finally, after enjoying the beautiful day for a time I went down and went to change the coil, this time by unplugging the power cord. But as I opened the door to the transmitter room, I saw the big sign on the door:

IF YOU LOVE WINE, WOMEN AND SONG, BE CAREFUL, ELECTRICITY CAN KILL YOU.

I felt then like killing the bastard who modified the safety switch. If he were there then I would have loved to give him a test of my 1000-volt DC.

I never found him. That lucky idiot.

*******

Hamas / Hezbollah / ISIS Muslim Fundamentalism

September 7th, 2014

After relentless barrages of thousands of rockets on most of Israel, (equivalent to 50,000 rockets over California in few weeks) the majority of Israelis, independent of political views, finally woke up to the reality of Hamas. Over 90 percent of Israelis demanded from their government to destroy Hamas once and for all. After 2000 Gaza casualties, at least half of them terrorists, and 72 Israeli deaths, Egypt helped achieve a cease fire.

Several similar cease fires were accepted by Israel and rejected by Hamas earlier. However, this cease fire was accepted by Hamas after Israel started to take its gloves off slightly. Which Israel should have done years ago to deter Hamas before its escalation of rocket attacks across Israel.

The cease fire frustrated most Israelis especially knowing that Israel could have destroyed Hamas in a “civilized,” war. That is, if Hamas did not use their own women and children as human shields.

Israel’ biggest problem with its long war with Hamas, is the diametrically opposed human values:

Jews have deep reverence for human life:

“Whoever destroys a soul, it is considered as if he destroyed an entire world. And whoever saves a life, it is considered as if he saved an entire world”. — Mishnah Sanhedrin.

Many Israeli military actions were stopped to save Arab civilians, some at the cost of Israeli lives.

Hamas members are Muslim extremists, believers in fundamental Sharia laws, and that Islam is absolutely correct, superior to all other religions and must be followed unfailingly. With their absolutist mentality Muslim extremists are eager and proud to kill non-believers to propagate their fundamental beliefs- “the only true religion.” They are also willing to die in the name of Allah to achieve their declared genocidal goal of murdering all Jews. Therefore, to Hamas it is very clear: if they are willing to die for their own fundamentalism, the propagation of Islam, then the death of Muslim civilians, women or children, is of no concern to them. “It is all in the hands of Allah.”

Hamas leaders have said it openly and frequently: we will win because we do not care about human lives and you care deeply.

These opposed human values tie the hands of the Israelis as they defend their people.

Combating Muslim fundamentalists will be a global issue for a long time to come. One could reason, negotiate, with a Putin, but not with fanatic people who not only do not care about their own lives, but consider it the highest honor to die killing non-believers. Almost all the groups around the world committing atrocities are Muslim extremists, from the murder of 200,000 Arabs in Syria, murdering untold number of natives in Africa, to the shooting of hundreds of unarmed soldiers and beheading of journalists by ISIS.

Hamas’ mindset is essentially identical to that of Hezbollah and ISIS. ISIS demonstrated it does not care for human life and will murder not only for effect but to demonstrate its brutality globally. Hamas demonstrated recently the same brutality towards Gaza civilians by shooting in the streets tens of Muslims they did not like.

In 2004, after Hamas murdered 10 Israeli soldiers, they played football with the Israeli’ skulls and broadcasted it live on TV. I was in Israel then and witnessed the shock of all Israelis. But even that inhumanity did not sunk into enough Israeli minds, and idealists were still vocal with a dream of peace around the corner. Not this time because Hamas’ rockets were spread all over Israel, and most Israelis could not say any longer, it is not my immediate problem.

You can be an idealist as long as it does not impact you or yours.

The brutality of Hamas is constrained by its confined geography. Hamas would behave in the same gruesome way as ISIS if Hamas were not bound by Egypt and Israel. Hamas leaders know that it could be subjected to harsh Israeli response if they went too far to upset Western sensibilities, as ISIS just did. Make no mistake, if it was a Jewish newsman murdered as savagely by Hamas, no foreigner would have paid attention.

The simplistic, single mindedness, absolutists belief of Muslim extremism in the superiority of Islam and Sharia Laws is a magnet to untold numbers of young Muslims, and is supported by millions of Muslims. Their supporters like the feelings of menacing Islamic power. They felt humiliated any time a Western country or Israel won a war with an Arab country.

There is silence from the so called “moderate Muslims” about the Hamas / Hezbollah / ISIS atrocities. It is almost unheard of that any Muslim leaders or religious authority condemned Muslim extremists or their actions any place in the world.

Half a century ago Israel warned Western leaders that Muslim terrorism is a global issue and that a united effort must be done to stop it at its infancy otherwise it would spread world wide. The West answered it is an Israeli –Arab problem, not ours. That is no longer so.

The civilized world is now in a generation- long battle for human freedom.

Matania

Israel lost propoganda war- short video Melanie Philips

August 24th, 2014

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tk3xKYbsuY8

This vedeo by Melanie Philips is outstanding. We Jews are proud to cut our own legs from under us in the interest of "truth" or " Jewish idealism".

We, Jewish idealists in the US and Israel specifically are too often our own worse enemy, trying to be so pure and so good without grasping that we are damaging our own self and the ability of Israel to live in peace.

Think carefully and look at it twice.

Matania

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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US Hypocrisy re. Gaza civilian casualties

August 23rd, 2014

We all want to minimize civilian casualties, but wars in urban areas are chaotic. According to a study published in the New England Journal of Medicine in 2009, of the victims of U.S. airstrikes in Iraq from March 2003 to March 2008, nearly half, 46% were women and 39% were children.

By contrast, according to the UN, (Not friendly to Israel ) 12% of all Palestinians killed in Gaza were women and 23% were children, far lower than the percentages killed in U.S. airstrikes in Iraq .

However, men, most likely combatants,

killed by the US only 15 %, but most casualties by Israel have been men: 65%!

Despite this superior Israeli record the White House, Pentagon, and State Department have all accused Israel in the harshest terms of doing too little to prevent civilian casualties. Yet Israel 's record on this score is much better than America 's.

Abbreviated and emphasis by MG