15 years (February 14, 1999) have passed since half a million people participated in a single Jewish event. It was a demonstration against the Supreme Court's policy on matters of religion and state, and as a 10-year-old, it was a dramatic experience for me. Although as a child I could not analyze my feelings, I was able to sense and understand that children are the ones who will shape the next generation, and therefore they are an integral part of social existence.
We went to a demonstration, and as a child who spent his hours reading books and riding Lego – the sudden exposure to the chaos and chaos of the event hit me like the panic of a fetus as it bursts into the world.
I was tiny and imperceptible, and for fear that I would disappear between the soles and be crushed like a leaf, I held my mother in both hands. A helicopter that swung overhead, removed the birds from the tops of the cypress trees. The sky plunged toward us, as if seeking to merge with the people's prayer and the melody of the selichot that sent shivers through us. My eyes darted everywhere, curious and confused, and in one moment I lost focus, stumbled and injured my knee.
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The bright scar, which I have carried ever since, left a mark on me. A memory of my mother's explanation of the essence of class.
""You are a partner in history," she told me, her eyes filled with tears. "What happened today - didn't happen yet. And if they try to interfere with the Torah scholars again - the next demonstration could be doubly disastrous.".
It was indeed a precedent.
This month – 15 years later – the event repeated itself. The tens of thousands of children who densely covered the boulevards and main thoroughfares of the capital, let me understand, very honestly, the enthusiasm and excitement that also thrilled the media and foreign spectators. It can be concluded that two central characteristics are what transformed the dimensions of the mass rally from urban to monumental: the streets and the children.
When the demonstration ends in the Haredi neighborhoods, the thousands can hold their protest without disturbing the peace of the city and the flow of traffic. Anyone passing by the place may sense what is happening, but except for a momentary traffic jam, they can continue on without knowing the meaning of the commotion. There, if the police decide to forcefully demarcate, suppress, or use violent means – they can. Until it breaks the boundaries of discourse and recognition.
What is not seen in all the revolutions in the world, is seen here. Tens of thousands of children who raided the regions of pluralism and democracy, stormed the bridges and railway tracks, stopped the flow of transportation, froze the businesses and the functioning of the city and demonstrated their demands and principles – made it clear that they too are a force. And perhaps a singular force that is not subject to control or harm.
It was impossible to ignore the multiplying flock, multiplying from generation to generation and strengthening its legacy by its very existence. The effect was powerful. The voices of their cries, the groans of their prayers, the innocence and readiness with which they held the signs, the purity that shone from their conquered faces and their small feet that walked like a patrol at the height of its command – they tried to determine who would be the next generation here.
