Moshe Feiglin WHERE THERE ARE NO MEN
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Moshe Feiglin WHERE THERE ARE NO MEN The Struggle of the ‘Zo Artzeinu’ Movement Against the Post-Zionist Collapse “What I have achieved and what you have achieved – is all thanks to her.” – Tractate Nedarim 50. To my wife Tsippi and my children: Na’amah, Ayelet, and David “…And where there are no men, try to be a man.” Sayings of the Fathers, 2.6 Table of Contents By Way of Introduction ................................................................................... 9 Tubas ................................................................................................................ 13 The Gan Vradim Crossroads ........................................................................ 17 Flags in the Shomron ..................................................................................... 25 “Israel is Waiting for Rabin” ......................................................................... 39 “…And where there are no men, try to be a man.” .................................. 63 The ‘Doubling Operation’ – First Arrest .................................................... 91 Tsippi’s Cookies ............................................................................................ 121 A Country at a Standstill – “Rabin, Go to the President” ...................... 153 ‘Paris’ or ‘Tiananmen’ .................................................................................. 179 The Rabin Assassination ............................................................................. 209 ‘Tiapiihants’ – Criminal File 3996/95 ........................................................ 237 Conclusion and Beginning .......................................................................... 287 Yaron .............................................................................................................. 319 By Way of Introduction Cheshvan 5758 (October, 1997) … In my summation, which was relatively short, I reminded the judges of the government’s imperviousness to what half of the nation was saying, the many lies exposed in the testimony of the police officers, and, once again, the principles of nonviolent civil disobedience which were our guidelines. In conclusion, I argued that, in light of the government’s violence, it was fitting for the court to rebuff the prosecution’s claims, thus sending an unambiguous message to any future government that might be tempted to exercise similar brutality against its own citizens. Ending my words, I asked the judges for permission to read aloud a short passage from The Little Prince, one of the world’s humanist classics. I presume that The Little Prince had never before been quoted in an Israeli courtroom. The trial that had begun as an indictment of an extremist, violent group would now come to a close on a completely different note. When I picked up the thin book to read, those present, amused by the scene, could not refrain from smiling. “Sire – over what do you rule?” “Over everything,” said the king, with magnificent simplicity. “Over everything?” The king made a gesture, which took in his planet, the other planets, and all the stars. “Over all that?” asked the little prince. “Over all that,” the king answered. For his rule was not only absolute: it was also universal. “And the stars obey you?” “Certainly they do,” the king said. “They obey instantly. I do not permit insubordination.” “I should like to see a sunset…Do me that kindness…Order the sun to set…” “If I ordered a general to fly from one flower to another like a butterfly, or to write a tragic drama, or to change himself into a sea bird, and if the general did not carry out the order that he had received, which one of us would be in the wrong?” the king demanded. “The general, or myself?” “You,” said the prince firmly. “Exactly. One must require from each one the duty which each one can perform,” the king went on. “Accepted authority rests first of all on reason. “If you ordered your people to go and throw themselves into the sea, they would rise up in revolution. “I have the right to require obedience because my orders are reasonable.” From the verdict in criminal case No. 3996/95 (The State of Israel v. Feiglin and others): …They gave expression to the opinion of tens of thousands of people who felt that the government was indifferent to them, not only in rejecting their opinions, but also in not paying any attention at all to their opinions. It may well be that, as a result of the error of the heads of the government, the defendants and others were driven into the path which they followed and which has led to this indictment. It is incontrovertible that those wielding the reins of power as a result of their having been elected in a democratic electoral process must lend an attentive ear to conflicting viewpoints and the feelings of the public. …but when the court has to decide on the sentence of the defendants for having broken the law, it cannot ignore the harsh example provided by the behavior of the police and the disregard of this behavior by the authorities responsible for law enforcement, until the issues were brought to the attention of the court. Just as the demand for obedience to the law falls on everyone, so are all violators subject to the enforcement of its provisions… …The violent conduct of the policemen vis-a-vis the defendants’ proclaimed and evident desire for nonviolent confrontation with the police emphasized the message and the call of the defendants to refrain from violence… Tubas Chapter 1 In the blistering heat of summer, the company of soldiers trudged heavily uphill through the main street of Tubas. Tubas, a well-established Arab village situated northeast of Shechem (Nablus) and populated by prosperous, property-owning families, many of whom divide their time equally between Jordan and Samaria, is considered the capital of northern Samaria. As the young commander of a company of reserve soldiers, I tried to abide by all the rules concerning the curfew in which the village was to be held. But the soldiers of my unit, many of whom were old enough to be my father, were suffering from the heat as they proceeded up the main street carrying their heavy packs and weapons. One could almost get the impression that the Arabs who threw furtive glances at us from behind their windows sympathized with the sweating soldiers. We were all wearing helmets with a transparent visor in front to protect our faces. These appurtenances were soon covered with a mist of perspiration and it was difficult to see through them. In addition, we were wearing heavy gear and carrying all kinds of equipment for the dispersal of demonstrations. We had become a ridiculous body of law- enforcers whose function was to patrol and maintain order in an occupied country. Reserve duty in Israel has always been a fertile opportunity for discussions and debates among the enlisted. My company was a typical, faithful mirror of the full gamut of opinions prevalent in Israeli society. Eli Rodrigez, my company sergeant, was an articulate and enthusiastic representative of the Left. He had come to Israel as a child from South America, had been educated for a while in a kibbutz, and absorbed their politics and values. He frankly admitted that his position was not based on any moral grounds. “If I could, I would drive all the Arabs out of here, but that is impossible. You settlers, with your stubborn and foolish beliefs, are complicating things for all of us and you will get us involved in a terrible war.” The lengthy arguments with Rodrigez were never bitter and were always conducted with good humor, interspersed with what were apparently juicy Spanish curses which I never understood. “Ah, if I could only bring General Pinochet here,” he would conclude with a grin, “he would put you settlers in your place.” At times, the discussions that went on late into the night were calmer and more thoughtful. I remember how, several years later, after the Oslo Agreement had been signed, I patiently described the dangers inherent in its execution. Eli confidently declared: “Don’t worry. After we give them Gaza, We will build a good strong fence, and if the Arabs there make trouble, we’ll close them in before you can say Jack Robinson, and throw them peanuts…” This kind of thinking was dreadfully naive, typical of the inherent contradiction which was characteristic of the average Israeli in those days. People like Eli wanted, at all costs, to achieve a degree of peace, while maintaining the macho Israeli attitude that would, in their opinion, make the agreements work. When it was shown to them logically that the agreements could not possibly work, they always fell back on the standard argument, the default position: “It is not conceivable that Yitzchak Rabin, Chief of Staff of the Six-Day War, is not familiar with the arguments that you are now advancing. Do you imagine that he is prepared to commit suicide?” No, I did not believe that those who had foisted on us the Oslo Accords wanted “to commit suicide”. However, from every conceivable logical angle, it was clear to me that this was the undeniable national significance of these accords. I did not know what to reply. In Tubas, I encountered the intifada face-to-face for the first time. It had begun a year before, but during that year I was busy with personal matters. At the time I was living in Rehovot. The youngest of our two daughters had just celebrated her second birthday and my thoughts were occupied with supporting my family and running my business. My confrontation with the intifada brought