Have you ever noticed that those in the West who are so pro Hamas, Iran and Hezbollah never have to actually deal with those groups or much of anything else?
We’ve all seen World War II or Vietnam movies where the guys who have been fighting meet their unit’s replacements. The former are grizzled, numb, and distant. The latter appear nicely-dressed and are often gung-ho for the concept of battle that they imagine. Experience is one of the best teachers in the world, and going through hell is something that one cannot readily get from a textbook. When we went through the haunted house of Madame Tussauds in London, real actors would approach, but it was stated that they would never touch any tourist. They were really good at what they did, and one woman in front of our group became hysterical in fear and had to be removed from the line.
When people face the reality of Iranian missiles, Hezbollah anti-tank rockets, or Hamas terror, they may be a little bit more sober than a keffiyeh-wearing sophomore at College U. whose biggest challenge in life has been to get over acne prior to the prom. What is the pampered life of our youngins taking a break from reality to go to Kollege? Get up late for some breakfast and then hit the classes: Israel as the Worst Force in the Universe, Palestinian Misery, Trans Poetry in Ancient Egypt, and Male Dominance in a Truly Female World. Some lunch and off to the protests. They can add some Hezbollah headbands and pretend to say a couple of words in Arabic. Then off to Pilates, Yoga and dinner. For those outside of college who are funded by the professional left, the only question is if their arrangements include pension and paid days off. Their lives are a far cry from those running at 1:30 in the morning to a bomb shelter or residents of the north of Israel who have zero warning time of an incoming Lebanese drone or bus riders who are afraid of the return of suicide bombers of the second intifada. Just as it’s easy to be a quarterback on a nice couch with chicken wings on your plate, it’s awesome to be a jihadi without having to associate with the riffraff or face the outcome of their attacks.
Recently, we finished the Passover holiday, and there are always two ways to look at it. On the one hand, a lot of “normal” food becomes forbidden for a week: bread, cakes, cookies, pasta, and for Ashkenazi Jews, peas, corn, rice and more. Ever notice those yellow-capped Coca-Cola bottles that appear around this time of year? That is Coke that is kosher for Passover as high-fructose corn syrup has been replaced by good old cane sugar. A lot of non-Jews also buy those bottles as it’s about as close to “real Coke” as you can get. Not having regular food for a week can lead to two responses: this sucks and I’m hungry or okay, let’s figure out how to make do with what we’ve got. And most Jewish homes that observe Passover choose the latter. Passover and Chanukah are known as the two times during the year when people put on weight. There is no shortage of delicacies that appear only once a year. Even a friend of mine who worked in the kosher certification business told me that many of the products he supervised actually improved in quality due to the Passover-required removal of certain additives or dyes.
And I think that this approach is not just for Passover but for life, and not just for the Jewish people but for anyone who wants to succeed. A picture that is burned into my memory has Elon Musk crouching over the debris from one of his exploded early rockets. Most people with his wealth would have just shut down SpaceX and like LeBron touting his 2-2 championships record in Miami said that Tesla and his other companies are successful. But not Musk. He got back up and is putting the largest rockets in history into space—and then catching them on their way down. Making due, adapting, not complaining, looking for and making opportunities: these are the characteristics of winners. They are also what is missing from the pampered set in the West. With the demise of communism and the growth of incredible material wealth, they have no feeling of need, no desire to improve themselves or the world. So they play fantasy jihadi where the only blood spilled is ketchup. Israelis and many others in the world don’t have such luxuries. Life is real and it comes fast. Will Wednesday—the last day of Iran ceasefire—bring renewed missiles and a return to the five-minute life?
As there was apparent calm, we went up north for the weekend. One of our favorite spots is the hotel at Kibbutz Lavi in the lower Galilee. It’s the kind of place where the highlight is watching cows get milked. And that was perfect. On the walls of the hotel are pictures of the early days of the kibbutz, circa 1949-1950. Kibbutz Lavi was one of a handful of “religious” kibutzim. It seems like an absolute contradiction: belief in God and the most communist economic system ever created. Nobody owned anything and all salaries earned outside were turned over to the kibbutz. The early days were rough, with people living in makeshift dwellings and using donkey-drawn farm equipment. The kibbutz persevered and thrived. Now it has gone private. The milking station has the name of a massive German conglomerate plastered on it. The carpentry business that makes pews for synagogues (and some churches) all over the world and the hotel are now regular businesses. People are no longer given money as per need by the kibbutz; instead, they earn a salary and they keep it. All of the kibbutzim have shed their communist past and use their biggest asset—massive tracts of farmland--to become successful capitalist entrepreneurs. Better late than never.
While at the kibbutz, I was on grandpa patrol. Our oldest took me to the “mischakiyah”, which means playroom. It was in the basement of the main building and was painted in happy colors and had plenty of toys appropriate for his age. But it was also a bomb shelter. A child will be none the wiser, but I noted the blast door, the colorfully-painted ladders for emergency exit, the reinforced bathrooms and sleeping facilities. This was a massive bomb shelter and is still in use. Kibbutz Lavi currently is close to neither Lebanon nor Syria. But until the Six Day War, Syria was just on the other side of the Sea of Galilee, which one can see from the highest point on the agricultural lands behind the hotel. That bomb shelter is not new and instead of just leaving the space wasted, it was converted into the most desired spot of children for generations. Our own children used to play there and do drawing and other organized activities. Israel is not about turning lemons into lemonade; its’ about turning lemon peels into lemonade.
The spoiled folks of the left who sit on roads to rail against oil use or block restaurants while screaming about Gaza need to get a life. In the old days they would have been drafted and grown up under the auspices of Uncle Sam. Today, they lead empty lives centered around social networks and their ephemeral online existence. They protest in favor of people who would slit their throats and share zero values with them. They rail against the only democracy in the Middle East. They are playacting their lives and are failing badly at it. Grow up.
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