DOV TALES
by Dov Burt Levy

I witnessed a small miracle right here in our part of the world on March 30 at Temple Ner Tamid. After I tell you what happened, you can decide how miraculous it was.

Jeremy Maissel, a kibbutznik from Israel and a representative of the Melitz Centers for Jewish Zionist Education, had arrived in the country just a few hours earlier. A tall man with a short beard, he was dressed in well-worn jeans, as if he had just come from the dining hall on Kibbutz Alumim, a mile or so from the Gaza border, where he lives with his wife and children. He wore a knitted kippa and carried a laptop. He made aliyah from England as a young man, and his British accent proved it.

He had come to describe the situation in Sderot and the surrounding kibbutzim, all being pounded by rockets and mortars from Gaza. He illustrated his talk with pictures and film clips. And he opened a discussion of the related issues.

The evening had two basic themes: First, what exactly is happening in the Sderot area, how does it look and feel? Second, what are the possible and proposed solutions, and what are the tactical and moral issues and contradictions built into the solutions?

Some facts: Gaza is an area of 139 square miles, about twice the size of tiny Washington D.C. With a population of 1.4 million Arabs, it is as crowded and poor a place as any on earth.

The Israeli town of Sderot lies just two miles from the border. Before the bombardment, 27,000 people lived there; now 20,000 remain.

Kibbutzim line the border, some a scant 100 yards from Gaza. Others are within a mile or two of the border and bombs fall there as well.

Before the first intifada in 1987, kibbutz members and others went freely into Gaza, made purchases, and enjoyed the beaches. All that is finished.

Maissel showed pictures of the destruction of homes and businesses and video clips of families who had miraculously survived the rockets' impact. And while most have been spared, there have been deaths and injuries on the Israeli side.

The Israel siren warning system gives 15 seconds to find shelter. That's not much time if you have a couple of kids to get out of bed and into a safe-room bomb shelter.

Among the defensive and military options discussed were: making every house in Sderot bomb proof; developing weapons systems to destroy the missiles en route; shutting down fuel and electricity to Gaza; targeting terrorist leaders; large scale invasion to seek and destroy hidden weapons; and negotiations with Hamas on a cease fire.

The list of possibilities is long but all are fraught with negative consequences, moral and humanitarian issues, and would have to compete for available funds. The discussion in the Peabody temple moved calmly and reasonably.

Maissel offered at the end a one-page handout listing steps the audience might take to help Sderot cope with its situation and improve the citizens' morale. They included the hope that we would keep informed by reading the English-language Israeli press, visit Sderot on our next trip to Israel and keep the situation alive in the minds of other people in our communities. Very modest.

So, you ask, what is the miracle?

Maissel didn't try to inflame the audience, excoriate the Israel government for being too weak or too strong, too cowardly to invade Gaza, or too stubborn to negotiate with Hamas. He was here to inform, discuss, contemplate and commiserate. And, guess what? He did it.

That's the miracle. Too many Israeli and American politicians and organizational leaders come to us with bombastic speeches telling us their way is the only way, that to head off Jewish or Israel extinction, we should embrace their militant analyses. Plus, a financial contribution would also be welcome.

If a man living in the war zone with his family can be rational and analytic, that's a good lesson for those pontificating from the safety of Jerusalem, Tel Aviv, New York or Washington.

Maissel did not ask for donations. At the end, he just thanked us for attending and participating and wished us all Shalom.