Home Alone: but less funnyLately there have been a number of high profile neglect cases in Israel. We’ve learned that many Holocaust survivors live in abject poverty. A woman revered as a spiritual authority was found to have abused and neglected many of her children. And in just the past few weeks, there have been three cases of children neglected in airports: A four-year-old girl was accidentally left in Ben Gurion Airport when her parents failed to keep track of all six of their children en route to Paris. An 8-year-old boy was accidentally flown to Brussels instead of Munich (this appears to be the fault of his El Al escort), and a 12-year-old was sent to the UK by her mother, with no one scheduled to meet her at the airport, and only the address—which turned out to be incorrect—of a family friend. When her mother was found and arrested, she explained that she couldn’t care for her kids and wanted them to find political asylum in the UK. Turns out she’d already sent her 9-year-old to Leeds.

There are plenty of cases of severe neglect reported in America every year (this story comes to mind), but in Israel it seems to be a symptom of the political situation. Israelis walk around all day trying to distract themselves from their own suffering and trauma. It seems to me that as a result of having to push their own personal grief below the surface, they also end up ignoring all kinds of suffering that they see around them, be it the suffering of Palestinians, Holocaust survivors, or even their own children. To a certain degree, we all push those thoughts aside in order to get through the day, but we try to maintain a sense of compassion. In Israel, because it’s nearly impossible to really ignore the suffering, society has developed a sort of flat affect. Neglect happens and everyone acts shocked but quickly moves on, not wanting to dwell on any more pain.

There’s something about the Israeli machismo that appealing, and that makes me proud to be Jewish. But there’s something ugly under that machismo -- a gaping hole where I’d expect to see compassion, and it’s horrifying.

Adam Klasfeld: Playwright of Good Fences

Good Fences Make Good Neighbors, written by Adam Klasfeld, is an absurdist play about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Klasfeld is making a name for himself with surreal plays focusing on the human root of political problems -- his docu-drama about Mark Twain, The Report of My Death, was a New York Magazine top pick when it debuted last year, and it will soon begin touring in the tri-state area.

Of Klasfeld’s plays, I think Good Fences is his most challenging, dynamic, and politically charged. It follows Rosh, a writer in a country called "Arabia." Rosh's neighbors recently shot him in the arm, resulting in an amputation, but neither his wife nor his friends nor even his doctor can tell that he's missing a limb. Convinced he and his family are in danger, Rosh begins patrolling his house, and soon he is negotiating with an elf in order to protect himself from his neighbors.

Is Rosh seeing things? Is his pain real? I met up with Klasfeld to better understand the symbolism of his play and his feelings regarding the conflict. Despite his strong political opinions, Klasfeld has never been to Israel, but he's heading out on a Birthright trip this weekend, so I'll check back with him when he returns to see if the visit changed his mind.

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With Hanukkah over for another year, we can get back to random Faithhacker rantings about non-holiday topics.  At least until later this week, when we’ll all be celebrating the Tenth of Tevet, of course…

What? 

What’s that, you say?  You mean you’ve never heard of the Tenth of Tevet?

Me neither, until now.

But it would seem that while the rest of the world is getting rested up for a night of New Years Eve-ing, observant Jews will be fasting on December 31 (beginning at sundown December 30).  Because we were oppressed (no surprise there). 

Specifically, this holiday commemorates Babylonia’s siege of Jerusalem in 589 BCE, and (as a result) the first destruction of the Temple.  But I find myself reading about the siege, and the ensuing famine… and thinking about... other things.  About Iraq. 

'The essential significance of the fast of the Teth of Tevet, as well as that of the other fast days, is not primarily the grief and mourning which they evoke. Their aim is rather to awaken the hearts towards repentance; to recall to us, both the evil deeds of our fathers, and our own evil deeds, which caused anguish to befall both them and us and thereby to cause us to return towards the good. As it is said (Vayikra 26): 'And they shall confess their transgressions and the transgressions of their fathers.' (Rambam: Hilchot Ta'anit Chapter 5).

Now, I don’t know if I’m going to fast on December 31 (I doubt it, as I’m knocked up right now) but considering the state of our world... this is worth thinking about… our own "deeds" and our own complicity.  We all cause suffering, and we all suffer.