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 Appeared in NYT.
By TOM SEGEV
When I accepted a one-semester teaching position at Rutgers
University's Bildner Center for the Study of Jewish Life, I hoped to
get away for a while from the tense atmosphere in Israel; I was
looking forward to a quiet academic fall. The fall has been
magnificent indeed, but I arrived in New York on Sept. 10. Instead
of finding relief, I've been much reminded of life back home.
The first responses to the attacks sounded quite familiar to me.
America, it was said, was attacked not as a result of anything it
had done but simply because of what it is. Globalization, cultural
domination and support for oppressive regimes were not immediately
considered plausible causes for the attacks. In the same way, many
Israelis ignore the causes that lead Palestinians to wage a war of
terror against them, choosing instead to argue that they have been
attacked not for anything they have done but simply for who they are.
The attacks on targets in New York and Washington were perceived as
attacks on every individual American; a huge wave of patriotic
togetherness gripped the country. Nowhere — except in Israel — have
I ever seen so many flags displayed. (In Israel people sometimes put
up American flags in addition to our own flag.) Nowhere except in
Israel have I seen a similarly enthusiastic wave of voluntarism and
donations. Israelis often say that war brings out the best in us;
something similar seems to be true in this country.
Other reactions also sounded familiar. Americans say, "We have
survived Pearl Harbor; we will survive bin Laden." In Israel people
often say, "We have survived the Holocaust; we shall survive Yasir
Arafat." Then there is the worry that "the world" (meaning some
United States allies in the Middle East) is not supportive enough of
America's fight. Israelis, too, often contend that the whole world
is against them.
Even our heroes seem alike now: the American firefighter appears a
copy of the mythological Israeli elite fighter, both simple men who
are noble symbols of courage and determination.
Since I have long admired America's separation of religion and
state, I was amazed by the dominant role religious expression played
in the speeches of President Bush and other American officials. Some
of these speeches could have been written in Israel, where religion
still plays an important role in government.
Likewise, "united we stand" is an ideal familiar to many Israelis;
it was the present wave of Palestinian terror that led to the
formation of Prime Minister Ariel Sharon's national unity coalition.
In recent weeks the political system in America has also been
working with no opposition. Since the beginning of the war in
Afghanistan, American news outlets have proved to be largely
supportive of the administration, often exceeding the Israeli
press's inclination to restrain itself in times of war. The Israeli
press often cites the press in this country as a model for
professionalism and free speech.
The war itself calls to mind the Israeli experience in Lebanon.
Although the Israeli-Arab conflict is very different from the
military action in Afghanistan, we have learned two lessons that are
applicable here: Terrorism cannot be permanently bombed away, and
what the Americans now call "nation building" did not work for us in
Lebanon.
In recent days, I've been in some conversations that carried curious
echoes. A student of mine informed me that he would not be able to
attend a number of classes because he had been called for duty with
the National Guard. Israeli students frequently miss classes because
of their service in the reserves. I asked the student what he is
doing in the National Guard. He said he is not allowed to tell me,
which made me feel very much at home.
But the most striking resemblance between the United States and
Israel these days lies in the need to live with terrorism as a
permanent part of the everyday routine. Getting used to that reality
is a painful process. Living with terrorism means paying the price
for what you can't or don't want to give up, which, in the case of
America, is its global position as the sole superpower. Life with
terrorism is the price Israelis pay for their unwillingness or
inability to give up their fundamental claim to be a Jewish and
Zionist state.
Israeli experience shows that life with terrorism is not impossible,
just as it is possible to live with car accidents, crime, disease
and natural disasters. In fact it's not terribly difficult to get
used to inconveniences like increased security at airports. (I was
amazed to see express check-in machines here that asked passengers
to touch "yes" on the screen to indicate that their bags had never
left their sight. That machine could issue a boarding card to Osama
bin Laden himself.) Such problems will inevitably be resolved, if
not necessarily with a system the same as Israeli airport security
procedures, which are based primarily on racial profiling.
Permanent terrorism also brings with it permanent struggle.
Terrorism is the main enemy of democratic values and civil
liberties. In Israel people suspected of terrorist activities are
often subjected to various forms of mistreatment and torture, some
of which have been legalized. Many of those suspects are put in
administrative detention without trial. Some are taken before
military tribunals, where often neither they nor their lawyers are
allowed to see the evidence against them; some of the accused are
Israeli citizens. Yet most Israelis support these measures, and at
times so has their Supreme Court.
Human rights organizations advocating greater civil liberties in
Israel frequently cite American principles of freedom, and indeed
some civil liberties have been introduced in Israel as part of the
country's gradual but steady process of Americanization. So it was
disturbing to hear the recent debate in this country over the idea
of using torture on terrorism suspects. The Israeli experience
clearly shows that torture and other limitations on civil liberties
have not made the country safer; they have made it more oppressive.
We Israelis have also learned that curbs on civil liberties rarely
turn out to be temporary, even if intended to be: they are all too
easily introduced but very difficult to get rid of.

November 25, 2001.
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