48 hours of no sirens. No katyusha missiles. No new soldiers killed in Lebanon. My new self-designed summary is: the worst ceasefire is better than the best war.
This is a tense cease-fire situation. Few people anywhere expect that it will be successfully maintained for long. The situation on the ground is highly unstable in Lebanon. IDF reservists see many thousands of Lebanese refugees returning to their homes, and some feel 100% sure that Hizballah soldiers are among those "returning". The refugees are returning to homes in such a condition which I presume would most likely make me angry- if it was my home. Our troops few in number and in need of rest and recuperation, are facing growing crowds of unhappy people. The antagonism has to be thick.
Haifa is quickly returning to what is normal life for us. Tens of thousands of Israelis are returning to their homes. The depth and breadth of the trauma of having been under bombardment – for those who left, and for those of us who stayed, is becoming clearer, like a fog resolving into a mist and slowly disappearing. Even though we are braced for another round of fighting which could likely begin at any moment, we begin self-rehabilitation, processing the last month of events in a cautious way. I doubt that even 1% are celebrating in Israel. I disbelieve the portrayals of Lebanese as being in a celebratory mood. This is a time for somber thoughts, for learning lessons, and for healing.
My visits to soldiers who are not directly in my medical care, to accompany people from outside Rambam who wanted to meet with injured, taught me a few things. My 23 years as a physician has gradually allowed me to feel rather well in control of myself and my emotions, which sometimes do well up- especially when informing patients of bad news, usually of a diagnosis of cancer or chronic incurable disease. I empathize deeply and painfully with such patients; especially with their fear, and I do everything possible to help them cope successfully. When meeting injured soldiers, I have a special love for them. They didn't just happen to get sick- their un-wellness is the result of purposeful actions on their part which were done unselfishly, for Israel, for peace, for me. These are young people; the un-naturalness of being young and having to face death or disability from so close rattles my insides and shakes my confident, if emotionally gushing, self-demeanor. The surgical physicians who are regular traumatologists probably handle this better, based on greater experience; yet I see them them beaming when describing successes with these operations for these patients, and I know that they too have a special love for the soldiers, even though their patient caseload includes trauma cases for surgery, from car accidents and the like; these similar patients were fulfilling a different role (not as soldiers) at the time of injury.
Israel is filled with people trying to assess this last round of conflict. How well did our leaders do, or our army, or our civilians? How did people act during days of crisis? Were people generous or did they stick to narrow political self-interests? Two examples: over 100 reservists who are opposed to Prime Minister Olmerts' political platform which plan to remove Israelis from some settlements in the Judea and Samaria region, signed a petition refusing to serve, even abandoning their posts of command, after what they perceived as Olmert saying to a Reuters interviewer that he still believes in his basic political plan for convergence, this happened about ten days after the war began.
Another reported issue is that, a few hours after the killing and kidnapping and missile firing which began the conflict, the Chief of Staff of the IDF reportedly sold off all of his personal investment portfolio- this is being touted by his political enemies as being conceivably a mis-use of inside information.
I have personal lessons to draw from the conflict. This was the first time a military conflict burst out since I was demobilized from my own reserve duty, at age 50. I got a taste of what it's like to stay at home, instead of being in the thick of getting into my role and uniform and "pro-actively being part of the solution". I tried to do other helpful things.
A Jewish Community Relations Council arranged for me to interview for several American tv and radio stations, and for several newspapers. The Israel Medical Association contacted Rambam Medical Campus, and the management there asked me to be the contact person to write a blog (column) answering that of a Lebanese physician, writing on a British Website for the British Medical Journal: I found myself bringing Maimonides into our e-discussion. Maimonides (the Rambam) was a great physician and community leader who spoke and wrote in Arabic and in Hebrew. Maimonides can serve as a role model for all of us of every religion even today: a model of leadership, of restraint of anger, of demeanor. I wrote pages which were put onto internet websites for the Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism, and for the Haifa-Boston partnership website, and for the Union of Reform Judaism in the USA, and to sister congregations of my own congregation. I wrote directly to dozens of people, and had many letters forwarded further, in Australia, England, Germany, Japan, Russia, and of course the USA.
I feel like a completely untrained/amateur propagandist, but I did what I could, and tried to listen to the feedback and respond appropriately. I thank everyone who did write back, as every letter of support becomes very meaningful in times of crisis.
At the outset of fighting there were appeals from students from my American program wanting to leave- and I voted in favor of letting anyone who wanted to leave, leave immediately, with assurances that everything would be done to flexibly allow for make-up time when the dust settles. I contacted every one of our students, and also to the candidates accepted to this October's incoming class (some were due to start ulpan August 20).
My specialty in medicine does not involve work with specifically missile-injured people, but every patient who came to my clinic received words and saw actions of strength and encouragement in that medical care was uninterrupted, and that a medium-smart (able to read the news) doctor had optimism enough to share that the end of the conflict was nearing. I continued to work when sirens wailed, whether in clinic or in endoscopy. Many calls by my secretary (and some by Noga) nearly filled my available time slots with patients, and assured patients that I would be present to serve them through days and weeks when most of Haifa (and Nahariya) were afraid to leave home as bombs and missiles were falling on us. Last Shabbat, I felt it was right to visit our family who live in the North, near Maalot, in an area which was under heavier bombing than Haifa. They had been home throughout the month of conflict, and their son was called up and was directly in the fighting on the border with Lebanon.
I offered to take Noga, and ended up also taking Michal and my mother-in-law up North. Getting there- there were no sirens. While there- sirens went off, we heard the thuds, some loud and some softer (from further away) of missiles exploding nearby within Israel, and also the similar (but not identical) blasts of our artillery firing away at the Hizballah. The drive home was a little more scary- because several times during the drive sirens blared, and the radio described direct hits with Israelis being injured in towns along the way we took. There were few people on the roads- but I wasn't the only one, and of course I'm glad to have arrived home safe and sound. Several other times I went with Noga to visit friends who were not ready to venture out from their homes due to fear of missiles. My philosophy seems to be to try very hard to behave regularly despite any fears- that strength helps to overcome fear. Acting (driving, working, visiting) despite fear, is less cautious, but is helpful in coping, and in leading others to be able to cope. The 3000 or more missiles which did land in Israel killed about 50 and injured hundreds. Hundreds of thousands left their homes- some returned to ruined homes, cars, property. So far 166 Israelis and many more Lebanese have died in this conflict.
All of Israel are in various stages of self-repair. The issues which began the conflict have not been fully resolved. My feelings are still mixed, as for most Israelis. Our leadership had no experience in making war, or even in soldiering- Olmert, Peretz and Livni learned many lessons, I'm sure. The cost of these lessons was heavy. Learning costs. Our army had a shake-up, and learned a lot of what is needed to shape up and improve. Good people, from the prime minister on down to people doing the simplest of volunteer roles- people did what they could, and sometimes, especially in war, even when people are doing their best, some bad things happen. I'm sure our leadership did their best, and I don't think I could have done a better job than them. I also do not see a better leadership waiting in the wings, even if our current batch are not all so terrific.
This is the time in which we all prepare for all possibilities, including those now newly made realistic, including of renewed warfare.
Meanwhile- for as long as the ceasefire holds, I hope and pray and work to bring about continued healing, of minds and bodies, and for continued peace.
Jesse (Yishai) Lachter