At first I thought the video of police officers attacking an Ethiopian soldier was terrible. Then I realized that a demonstration was being organized, and I thought it was a bit excessive to go to a big demonstration just because of one incident. Then I heard a sweet Ethiopian on the radio talking about feelings of deprivation and discrimination and I thought that maybe I didn't understand and that this precious community was really being wronged.
ADuring the demonstration in Jerusalem, I heard claims from protesters that there was unusual police violence there, and I assumed that must be true, and I supported the protesters. But then came the demonstration in Tel Aviv, where protesters threw blocks and destroyed property and were particularly violent, which made me support the police, because it is certainly possible that they are right too.
In short, I didn't exactly know what I thought about the Ethiopian protest this week. Around me, I heard all sorts of opinions from people who were clear about what they thought, for and against, but I really couldn't formulate a position on this story, which seemed a bit complex to me and also, excuse the pun, not black and white.
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And then it happened – I flicked through one of the newspapers, saw a few minutes of one of the editions, and I immediately understood what my opinion was. I am against it. Unequivocally.
If the media is so embracing the protests, supporting, encouraging, and cheering them on – then thank you very much, I understand which side I should be on. With all due respect to the plight of Ethiopian immigrants that needs to be addressed. Because it wasn’t a report, it was a campaign. Some of the articles looked like a souvenir sheet, literally to be cut out and kept.
“The ”protest leaders“ became heroes, the reporters reported on the feelings of freedom and liberation of the Exodus from Egypt, at least, and of course between the lines was a promo for the next demonstrations and the continuation of the protest. Sorry, ”continuation of the revolution.”.
Then I remembered a great tip from Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach. There is a lot of talk about his moving teachings and, of course, his touching poems, but unfortunately Carlebach's sober, humorous, even sarcastic side is less expressed.
Here's an example: “Sometimes a person has a real dilemma,” he once said, “and then he needs the advice of a wise person. He owes it. But what can you do, you can't always reach a wise person. Sometimes you're at an airport, for example, and you have no one to ask.
""What do we do? Very simple: ask a fool. You'll always find that in the area. Well, find a fool, ask his opinion - and do the opposite.".
I want to add my own advice to his: If you don't have the strength to look for a fool, check out what some respected publicists and opinion leaders think – and think the opposite. And indeed, since I decided that I was against it, I've noticed a few strange things: For example, there are over a hundred thousand Ethiopians in Israel.
The media repeatedly announced in advance that the demonstration would take place on Sunday, and yet only a few thousand people showed up. So who said they represented the majority of the community? The day after the demonstration, I happened to buy something at a grocery store in south Tel Aviv. The saleswoman, an Ethiopian immigrant, told me she hadn’t been at the demonstration. Why, I asked. “That’s not the way,” she said, “it’s not appropriate. That’s not how we behave in our community.”.
Then I remembered something else: Actually, since the elections, they've been trying to rekindle some kind of storm here every time. The topic changes from week to week, but the mindset is always along the lines of "How bad it is here, we need a revolution.".
After all, just after the clear victory of the right-wing bloc, the traditionalists, the religious, and the ultra-Orthodox, a strange campaign began here for public transportation on Shabbat, which also received exaggerated headlines for several days. Just after an election campaign in which Meretz was almost wiped out, suddenly there's talk of public transportation on Shabbat? And this week too: just after an election campaign in which they didn't deal with social issues at all, and in which the issue of Ethiopians didn't even come up, suddenly this is the main headline?
These days, the book "Badea Zalula" was published, containing a selection of articles by Uri Elitzur, a wise man, whose passing this week marks the one-year anniversary of his death. Elitzur writes a paragraph in it that I don't know when it was first printed. Perhaps when the country was in turmoil over "refusal of an order," perhaps during the uproar over "roadblocks during disengagement," perhaps during the "women's exclusion" campaign.
In one of these hysterical media rounds, Elitzur wrote a wonderful text. This really needs to be cut out and saved, for the next ”protest” that will surely erupt: “And I made a rule for myself: When I hear this herd start to get rowdy and raise dust, talk disproportionate nonsense and compete to see who is exaggerating more than whom – when that happens, I step aside, keep my mind from getting dirty with dust, and look suspiciously at the whole show until the dust settles a little.”.
The reader who sent the following email won't even let me know what city he's from. He's Haredi, teaches Talmud Torah, and wants to completely obscure his details. Not because he's ashamed, but because he's proud. He's proud of the behavior of his classmates, but he's afraid that the story will also reveal the identity of the hero of the story, who is the security guard K.
And here are the full details: “Hello friends, there is a lot of talk about the ‘ugly Israeli’, and they are often documented in videos. Indeed, there are some, but they are given much more screen time and attention than the ordinary and normal Israeli and even the beautiful and righteous Israeli. I stand every morning at the entrance to our Talmud Torah, and it is amazing to see how everyone, from the little ones who are screaming to the eighth graders who come on bicycles with hats and flowing suits, say ’good morning‘ to the security guard at the entrance. Some are more cordial and some are more shy, but everyone says it.
“They feel so much gratitude towards the guard that the students in my class invited him to a ’completion‘ on a chapter we studied in the Gemara. They celebrated the end of the study with a small class party and wanted him to be part of the event. Our security guard, a broad, full-bodied and large man, entered the classroom and asked what we were doing. He didn’t exactly understand, but he was given a huge homemade borax, held it in his right hand, covered his head with his left, and then blessed in a loud voice like this: ’Blessed are you, our God, King of the universe, Creator of souls and wonderful to do!’.
""And what happened in response? I was tense for a second, but immediately, right away, everyone answered together: 'Amen!' One bite of it was enough, the borax was gone, and the large security guard left the classroom.
""And note: the students saved the big burst of laughter, and laughed only after he left the classroom. Without planning at all, everyone remained very serious and seemed not to react to his creative and strange greeting (imagine the whole situation, with the hand on the head and the size of the body, and with the text spoken loudly and confidently: 'Creator of souls and wonderful to do!'). Only when he left the classroom did they allow themselves to burst out laughing.
""I was very impressed by the children's sensitivity, their restraint, and I felt the need to share it with you. Oh, and one more thing: no one filmed these moments or uploaded them anywhere under the title 'Here is more evidence of the nature of Israeli society.'".
• The column is published in the newspaper 'Bisheva'.'
