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[HANASHIR:14258] Interesting article...
- From: K. B. <kbmusic...>
- Subject: [HANASHIR:14258] Interesting article...
- Date: Mon 12 May 2003 16.51 (GMT)
As a long-time fan of Safam, this article caught my attention.
Karen
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Jerusalem Post
Soldiers of conscience, By Barbara Sofer
May. 8, 2003
An obstetrician overeager for Pessah vacation shortened my mother's labor,
making my birthday
coincide with our most labor-intensive holiday. Seeking an appropriate gift
this year, my daughter went through stacks of CDs in a Jerusalem Jewish music
store.
She came upon a disc by the American singing group Safam, whom she knew I
liked. In our home, many a batter has been whipped, many a parsnip snipped to
the ballads of Safam as I cooked late into the night. Their song "Leaving
Mother Russia" still makes me emotional, even though the "Anatoly" mentioned
has long lived in our neighborhood.
Delighted with the birthday present, I put it in the car CD changer for Pessah
vacation. I drove humming to the cadences of "Rivers of Babylon" and smiled at
a song heralding the pleasure of reading a Hebrew newspaper in a cafe in Tel
Aviv.
Then came a song called "Soldier of Conscience." I nearly had an accident.
The song, in the same mournful tone as "Mother Russia," is in the voice of an
Israeli whose
father and grandfather have died in wars. He, too, has served three times,
presumably in Israel's major wars, but this time "it's different." Women and
children are the enemy.
Therefore, the soldier is sitting in jail, refusing to serve in the IDF,
wondering if this is
bravery or cowardice, (unclear in the song whether "this" means his sitting in
jail or the
fighting is bravery or cowardice), and questioning if Israel has the right to
use force like other nations in the world.
It turns out that the song is a decade old, so my feeling of righteous
indignation is more than a little late. Nor do I have a problem with the
handful of Israelis who feel so strongly about not serving in the army that
they sit in jail. Democracy allows for such choices.
So what stirred me so much that, weeks later, this song is still bothering me?
First, there's the easy identification of Israeli soldiers as the enemies of
women and children. (The grouping "women and children" is a minor point.
Children are helpless victims of conflict; women aren't frail and dependent,
but responsible grown-ups.)
If Israel-friendly folksingers use these cliches, then we can't be surprised
when foreign journalists file stories depicting the mythical big bad Israeli
soldier.
"Soldiers at a checkpost" has become a synonym for rude and disrespectful
Israelis. Combatants who seek out terrorists in their hiding places are
automatically caricatured as treating civilians with disdain. I reject these
negative stereotypes.
Who are these Israeli soldiers? They're our very own sons and daughters. They
are also our future. Only because of their devotion, their willingness to
countenance physical discomfort, to disturb their career plans and risk their
lives can we sit in those cafes in Tel Aviv and read newspapers. Only because
of them can Jews abroad feel the security offered by a Jewish state.
Those of us who live here know more stories about kids clustering around
soldiers to ask for the cookies and candy sent from home than we do of the
unhappy abuses of power. And when there are abuses, we feel them keenly.
THE HUNDREDS of thousands who serve, and not only the tiny numbers who refuse,
struggle daily to act according to their consciences and to be moral human
beings. Our own watchdog organizations and court systems function as an
additional layer of
national conscience. We are far harsher critics of our own morality than anyone
else. And so it should be. I only regret that we haven't embedded foreign
journalists within our fighting forces.
This week, representatives of the border police (where widely publicized
misconduct took
place) met with B'Tselem - the Israeli Center for Human Rights in the Occupied
Territories.
>From radio reports, the meeting was congenial. When it came down to beliefs,
>the two groups weren't very far apart.
What must have irritated me most about "Soldiers of Conscience" was that it was
written by Jews living abroad. Maybe I'm touchy because of the season of
twofold independence for our people, both Pessah and Independence Day.
Sometimes life here feels untranslatable. How do I explain the disappointment
and worry of a parent whose son is opening seder-plate army rations at the
border instead of being home for Pessah? How can I share the rapture of seeing
a dusty soldier son arrive with the sunset after the Pessah table is already
set? Because so many soldiers were on
duty this Pessah - including my son-in-law - even the chief of staff, too,
spent Pessah at an army base. That's Israel.
And then, this Hebrew month of Iyar arrives with Remembrance Day for the Fallen
of Israel's Wars, and Independence Day and Jerusalem Day. These are major
holidays in Israel.
One son has 13 close friends - fellow soldiers - to remember each Memorial Day.
Another son passed up a helicopter ride on the tragic flight in which 73
soldiers, many his comrades, were killed.
"Do not judge your fellow until you have reached his place," we read in Pirkei
Avot last week. It's easy to preach when you've never stood at a deserted
checkpost or headed into a village with a faded picture of a terrorist in your
pocket. The gates of immigration to Israel are open. Remaining in the Diaspora
these days might well burden the consciences of those concerned with the soul
of Israel.
To be fair, I sent this group - which has afforded me so many hours of
listening pleasure - a note asking about the origin of the song. I received a
near-instant reply. "Soldier of Conscience" was written in the early Nineties
during the first Intifada, they wrote.
"There were a few stories out of some IDF soldiers who refused to go into the
West Bank and were imprisoned. The song makes no political statement, but
rather tells a fictitious story of one person who chooses to be a conscientious
objector. As the story is told, he is very conflicted by the decision and does
not know whether this is a brave or cowardly thing to do.
"The question goes unanswered. In the end, the song is one of hope, as well as
supportive of
Israel and its defense forces, who view themselves as Soldiers of Peace.
Unlike other nations' militaries, Israel has one with a conscience."
That's not how the song sounds to these Israeli ears. But then again, maybe I'm
just touchy at this time of year.
--
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- [HANASHIR:14258] Interesting article...,
K. B.