" Here are elite soldiers, kibbutz-born, battle-bred. Their stories
reveal their minds and souls, and what has tempered and annealed
their hearts. They are citizen soldiers all - officers or N.C.O.'s
- who refused career military appointments and returned to civilian
life, as much as one can be a civilian in Israel. Descendants of
Isaac who, like modern-day Ishmaels, seek peace while pursuing the
Leviathan of war. Or are pursued by it. They also search for inner
peace.
These men and this author were transformed by the Second Intifada
over a four- year period. I began this book in an era of hope
following Oslo. In the political shambles after President Clinton's
desperate and failed Taba diplomacy, it grew in complexity. I write
today at the re-dawn of hope following Saddam Hussein's downfall,
Kaddafi's "conversion," Arafat's death, Lebanon's Hariri murder.
Much has changed since then.
A psychoanalyst by profession, five years ago I completed a book
about American youth, their journeys, successes and failures, from
birth through thirty. All but one of the 76 interviewees had
navigated the inner turmoil of adolescence and young adulthood via
the relatively pacific waters of college. During a brief visit to
Israel in 1999, I met an Israeli graduate student at a Hanukah
party who asked me what I had learned about Americans. He listened
closely, then quietly remarked how different it was to become a
young man in the Israeli army. To understand Israel, he continued,
one must understand its army. And so, a year later, in the fall of
2000, I decided at least to try.
Before I left, I returned to a book -- Children of the Dream --
written by Bruno Bettelheim, one of my teachers. More often cited
than read, it is frequently misunderstood. Bettelheim recounts the
extraordinary job the kibbutzim do raising children in a communal
setting. It demonstrates how different child-rearing methods result
in different personalities. Bettelheim found that kibbutz children
are well-balanced with strong peer relations and a vibrant inner
character. He predicted that kibbutz mothers would not tolerate
many more years of having their children raised in the communal
children's houses. He was right on target. In addition to severe
economic factors, the movement by mothers to bring their offspring
into the family home coincided with the beginning of the near
collapse of the kibbutz as a social movement, perhaps one of the
more successful experiments in socialism in the twentieth century.
Once I realized that this historical phenomenon, this culture, was
about to disappear, I knew the only way I could capture the
experiences of the last group born and raised in the soil of
communal settlements -- who were also army-matured -- would be to
hurry to harvest their knowledge. Like grapes for fine wine, these
boys absorb the flavor, the fragrance, the taste of the soil around
them.
Moreover, the then prime minister, Ehud Barak, planned to shorten
army service because peace was at hand. Since the Israeli Army has
been so central to Israeli growth, development and identity, I had
to act quickly if I wanted to study its soldiers before peace
transformed their swords into plowshares.
It turned out, no rush. Peace was not as forthcoming as hoped.
***************
There are moments I fear. Palestinians morph into live bombs in
malls, on streets, at bus stops. Suicide bombers collapse the
borders between soldier and civilian, between adult and child,
between man and woman. Being frisked for weapons at malls, being
asked whether I carry a gun as I enter restaurants is a constant
reminder of the terror. It is annoying to be frisked; it is
daunting to face roadblocks and bomb plantings; I miss some
meetings. Often, cab drivers are intimidated when I tell them my
destination.
Or intimidating. On Achad Ha'am stree
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