The past four days Tel Aviv has been targeted with rockets fired from the Gaza Strip. They travel 40 miles up the Mediterranean coast of Israel before reaching the city. It’s a routine. The missiles are fired between the busy commuting hours of 8 and 9 am to cause maximum disruption to Israeli society. The early warning sirens go off with a modulating wail, giving people one a minute and a half to find cover in a stairwell or one of the city’s hundreds of bomb shelters, which the government ordered opened a few days ago. As the rocket approaches the city, an interceptor missile is fired at the rocket from Israel’s Iron Dome system to detonate it in mid-air.
The first day everyone in my dormitory at Tel Aviv University ran to the shelter and stayed there for the recommended 10 minutes. When we heard the two booms—first the Israeli Iron Dome interceptor missile and then the Gaza rocket—we looked at each other uneasily. The second day everybody walked to the shelter, waited for the booms, and left. The third day I just didn’t manage to get myself out of bed so early. The fourth day I was already awake but in the shower when the siren went off, so I simply closed myself in a windowless bathroom, my heart racing a little, and awaited the expected thud. Instead a series of loud booms shook the building. I looked out my kitchen window minutes later and took the above picture. High over Tel Aviv two wisps of smoke linger, presumably from an interceptor rocket.
Sure enough, all of the half-dozen or so rockets fired at Tel Aviv has been intercepted, adding to the Iron Dome’s 90 percent success rate. Once again, this astonishing technology has prevented a catastrophe for the population centers of Israel. (The south, closer to Gaza, is not so lucky.)
Under the protection of the Iron Dome, Tel Aviv is thriving and leading the world in ways the early Zionists never could have imagined one hundred years ago. But the dome has also created an ideological bubble for the Israelis who live under it. The bubble is one not only of defense, but near immunity from danger and even the thought of it. If I stopped running to the shelter after three days, I can only imagine the numbing effect it’s had on most Israelis. When the sirens went off while I was with friends at a bar watching the World Cup, we hurried to follow the staff’s directions to the nearest bomb shelter. The Israelis brought their cocktails with them when they eventually ambled over to join us.
This numbness is a fairly recent development. The bus and café bombings of the Second Intifada in the early 2000s killed over one thousand Israelis all over the country, and caused utter panic. Every day on my way to class, when I studied at Hebrew University in Jerusalem, I passed a memorial—a tree planted sideways, jarred but still growing—of a 2002 bombing in the main cafeteria that killed 9 and wounded 85. Then Israel built a Separation Barrier—“The Wall”—between it and the West Bank and Gaza, and the land within the walls of Israel proper enjoyed a decade of relative stability despite all odds to the contrary. Since the development of the Iron Dome in 2011, the illusion of stability has set in even deeper.
For the four months leading up to this week, my life in the bubble has been what Zionists call paradise and what pro-Palestinians call the normalization of the occupation. The Israeli government’s high fences have made this country a wonder to explore and learn and live in—from Jerusalem’s Old City to the stepped gardens of Haifa, to Tel Aviv’s renowned nightclubs. One of the reasons I have stayed here is Israel’s vibrant and open gay scene, which it rightly touts as the most accepting in the Middle East, and which critics denounce as the “pinkwashing” of its questionable human rights record against Palestinians in exchange for the liberal image it sends to the international community for being gay-friendly to its own citizens. All the real violence in the region simply occurs on the other side of the wall—out of sight and out of mind for most Israelis.
But this bubble of security also kept the West Bank calm for most of my stay. The West Bank cities of Abu Dis, Ramallah, Jericho, and Bethlehem—as well as East Jerusalem and Nazareth within Israel—felt completely safe and stable when I visited them throughout April and May. That situation changed following the now-famous kidnapping of the three Israeli teens by Palestinians on June 12. After this point, the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) used searching for the boys (whom they already knew were dead—a fact they hid from the media and even the families ) as a motive to wreak havoc on the territories. The IDF carried out untold searches, seizures, and hundreds of arrests—supposedly targeting Hamas members, but if past IDF indiscretion and civilian brutality offers any clue, many were likely unwarranted.
But I quite literally saw the West Bank in only the best possible light: my visits were only by day. By night, the Palestinian people experience regular and well-documented IDF raids that often involve arresting teenage men on dubious suspicions of involvement with terrorist activities—attending a rally, throwing a stone, guilt by association. Palestinians in the territories (not to mention Gaza) have never enjoyed the bubble. They have always seen through the fact that the regional stability Israel brought about was not real or sustainable—not real because it bought stability for Israelis at the cost of Palestinian livelihood, and not sustainable as we see now.
Nowhere was the bubble of stability more apparent than Tel Aviv, where I unexpectedly walked in on the tenth annual “Water War” this past weekend. Thousands of young people in shorts and bikinis gathered in Habima Square to douse and spray each other with water guns. That same weekend in Jerusalem, thousands of Palestinian residents of East Jerusalem took to the streets to bury Mohammed Abu Khdeir, the 16-year-old boy who was kidnapped and burned alive by Jewish extremists a few days earlier. While they threw Molotov cocktails and stones at Israeli police, and were sprayed in return with rubber bullets and tear gas, Tel Aviv was worlds away. “It is one of the central qualities of Tel Aviv that its residents, especially its young, are unperturbed by national crises…The city’s seemingly autistic tendency to party on while the rest of the country burns tends to irk that rest of the country,” one reporter wrote of the event . Last weekend, the biggest war Tel Aviv faced, and the movement which rallied its people, was legislation that would force convenience stores to close on Shabbat as many other business are required to: no more late-night cigarette runs on Fridays. Tel Avivians are well aware of their reputation, and even joke about it:
And then the sirens blared for the first time in two years. According to Ari Shavit, one of Israel’s leading and most established journalists, the bubble of Israeli complacency that Tel Aviv typifies is history. “The bubbles we’ve lived in have burst. The years of calm are over. We’ve now come face to face with the new, wild and violent Middle East” .
The short-range rockets that blast the south of Israel are, he says, rockets of desperation. They are the rockets of a Gaza with a dismal GDP per capita of $3,100 next to Israel’s $36,000. They are the rockets of a tiny region (about twice the size of Washington DC) packed with 1.6 million people (about 2.5 times DC’s population) cut off from the rest of the world, hanging on by the last thread of water and electricity still supplied by Israel since Israel pulled out citizens and control of the area in 2005.
But the long-range rockets, the ones that have hit as far as Haifa more than 60 miles away, are something else. These are the rockets of fanaticism. “With their backs to the wall, our fanatical enemies to the south have decided to tear down [the] house over their heads, in hopes of taking some of the complacent ones with them. Left without a future, the fanatic, starving people of the Gaza Strip are trying to bog down the complacent Israeli democracy in their mess.”
These long-range attacks, he writes, “are an attack of chaos on order.” Until the uprisings of the Arab Spring, Israel’s greatest threats were despotic states that it has remained at war with since its founding in 1948. The new threat, the threat represented by these long-range missiles, is not organized enemies, but the tumultuousness even the formerly most stable states in the region, take Egypt or Syria, have proved vulnerable to. It is the threat of leaderless terrorism, with which it is not even possible to make peace. Indeed, the written declaration of Hamas, the terrorist group that controls Gaza and is responsible for all this, stands for the murder of all Jews, whatever the cost.
I just heard another thud in the distance. Did it land, or was it intercepted? If I check the news, there will likely be too many reports of rockets for me to even sort out which one I heard. For now, the Iron Dome is doing its job. But there are no guarantees here. One failed interception of a missile toward Jerusalem or Tel Aviv could trigger the land invasion of Gaza that Israel has given serious consideration this week. Whether or not that happens, the fear is palpable.
Tel Aviv thought it found a way to avoid the horrors of the Middle East? Tel Aviv was mistaken. That spiritual, cultural, value-centric bubble it created could not survive, not without recognizing the tragic reality surrounding it. You thought you could keep your economy and society cut off from geostrategic challenges? You were wrong. In this country there’s no separating the essential struggles for a just society and healthy economy from the unique circumstance in which Israel exists.
Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu is the mastermind behind the bubble, and it has made him a political hero. He has bought Israel these years of stability with what appears to be the conditions for a permanent occupation of the Palestinian territories, led by the expansion of Israeli settlements. He is still holding out: shield the public from the occupation’s violence for long enough, and they will forget that there was ever another way. If all goes as planned, they will become incapable of ever imagining a two-state solution, let alone making the concessions necessary to realize it. This plan has thus far succeeded.
Jewish-American journalist Max Blumenthal’s latest book, Goliath, documents the entrance of what used to be far-right-wing views into mainstream Israeli politics. About the 2009 reelection of Netanyahu, he writes, “the most right-wing government in Israel’s history had been elected by a comprehensively indoctrinated and militarized public, whose youngest members were its most extreme” . Growing up behind the shelter of the Wall, the Palestinian “problem” is kept out of sight for these young people, fueling a direct rise in their racism toward Arabs and an utter refusal of the peace process. And state policy isn’t helping these kids:
They’re the direct result of an education system that promotes militarization, that seeks to delegitimize the other in the minds of Israelis, and to cultivate Israelis as good soldiers, not good citizens.
To help them accomplish the psychological feat, which is not normal, of joining an occupation army at age 18, they have to be processed through a prolonged program of indoctrination which convinces them that they are in existential peril at all times, and that Palestinians could throw them off their land if they don’t join the army.
(Abu Khdeir’s killers) are a common product of Israel’s education system and its comprehensively militarized culture.
This statement is consistent with everything I’ve heard from Israelis here, who experienced something of an awakening to reality after graduating from the Zionist-bent public school system and finishing their three years of mandatory service in the army. (Many find Palestinian education similarly problematic, but Palestinians are not the ones in control of the peace process.) Yet the so-called demographic threat is only growing: because of their higher birthrate, Arabs already outnumber Jews in historic Palestine if you count everyone between the Jordan river and the Mediterranean, including those in prisons and refugee camps . That reality isn’t going away.
For Shavit this week’s rockets reveal that Netanyahu’s strategy is failing:
Netanyahu thought he could maintain stability in the absence of a peace process and without an alliance with the moderate Palestinians? Netanyahu was wrong … The Israeli-Palestinian conflict does not exist in a vacuum. When there is no movement toward peace, violent escalation ensues.
If these new long-range rockets turn out to mark the end of Israel’s decade of stability, as Shavit expects, Netanyahu’s strategy will have failed indeed. The reality of even greater violence and fear will eventually force Israel to make the concessions it has known it would eventually have to make for decades. But as long as the sirens blare over Israel, there is no hope for talk of peace on the Israeli side. As of yesterday, Netanyahu said that a cease-fire was not on the agenda, but neither was the suggestion of one of his advisors to cut the supply of water and electricity to Gaza. “We can’t do what the Russians did to the Chechens,” he reportedly said.
I don’t claim to have the insight or perspective Israelis and Palestinians have, but having been here just a few months I think people are right to characterize this moment as one of transition, a tipping point following years of the complacency I felt all around me until recently. Just a week ago, in response to the burning of Arab Israeli Jerusalemite Mohammed Abu Khdeir, the Arab Israeli writer Sayed Kashua announced in a heartbreaking, and, for those who know him and his work, shocking column in Haaretz that he was leaving Jerusalem, leaving Israel, and not coming back. A man that had long stood as a figurehead for Arab-Israeli tolerance and working toward coexistence simply couldn’t take it any longer. He is starting over in the United States and taking his family with him. The murder and anti-Arab protests in Jerusalem were the last straw, and he realized that the story he told himself his entire life about the situation improving was a lie.
Leading Jewish-Israeli perspectives are just as self-critical and conflicted. From Gideon Levy:
Following the kidnapping of three teenaged Israelis in the territories and their murders, Israel wildly arrested some 500 Palestinians, including members of parliament and dozens of freed prisoners who had no connection at all to the kidnapping. The army terrorized the entire West Bank with a dragnet and mass arrests, whose declared aim was “to crush Hamas.” A racist campaign raged on the Internet and led to a Palestinian teenager being burned alive. All this followed Israel’s punitive campaign against the effort to establish a Palestinian unity government that the world was prepared to recognize, its violation of its commitment to release prisoners, a halt of the diplomatic process and a refusal to propose any alternate plan or vision.
Did we really think the Palestinians would accept all this submissively, obediently, and calmly, and that peace and quiet would continue to prevail in Israel’s cities?
What exactly were we thinking? That Gaza would live forever in the shadow of Israeli (and Egyptian) caprice, with the restraints sometimes loosened a bit, or sometimes painfully tightened? That the biggest prison in the world would carry on as a prison? That hundreds of thousands of its residents would remain cut off forever? That exports would be blocked and fishing restricted? What exactly are 1.5 million people supposed to live on? Is there anyone who can explain why the blockade, even if partial, of Gaza continues? Can anyone explain why its future is never discussed? Did we think that all this would continue and Gaza would accept it submissively? Anyone who thought so was a victim of dangerous delusions, and now we are all paying the price .
I’m not Jewish, and it’s not likely that I will ever call Israel home. But as an American I do play an important role in this conflict. Each year the U.S. gives $3.1 billion in military aid to Israel, more money than Israeli taxpayers pay for their own defense, according to IDF Chief of Staff Gabi Ashkenazi . Israel currently has seven Iron Dome batteries, which cost $55 million each, and each interceptor rocket costs about $100,000. With the billions it receives in international assistance, Israel’s status quo has become financially sustainable, though the country is still in debt up to 67% of its GDP.
“I guess you can add ‘surviving war in Israel’ to your list of overseas experiences!” one of my Israeli friends texts me after the first siren. A war. I hadn’t thought of it that way, but more and more Israelis around me are using that word. At what point does a series of terrorist attacks and military retaliations turn into a full-blown war? So far no Israelis have been killed from the explosions, though a few dozen have been treated for shock. Meanwhile nearly 100 Palestinians have been killed and hundreds more wounded in the 1,100-plus retaliatory airstrikes the IDF has made in Gaza “to degrade the capacity and will of Hamas and its allies to continue firing rockets, and to diminish the stock of rockets the Gazans currently possess” .
It’s hard for me to think that just last week I was sitting in a café in Tel Aviv’s idyllic residential neighborhood of Neve Tzedek, calmly sipping a cappuccino and finishing up Shavit’s oral history of Zionism, My Promised Land . Shavit’s book is about seeing and not seeing. Early Zionists both saw the Arabs when they arrived in the late eighteenth century, and didn’t. They saw Arab villages all around them, but they were so determined to make Israel a Jewish state that they chose to ignore the problem they posed to this project. Those today who refuse to recognize the Palestinians as a people with a land are still subject to this curse of Israeli blindness.
From where I sat in the café, the Mediterranean is just a five-minute walk to the east. Skyscrapers to the north remind me of the remarkable transformation Israel has made to become “the startup nation” with a bright economic horizon, and opportunity that still attracts immigrants from all over the world. But, as Shavit writes, the founders of the first “Hebrew City” constructed a myth of building Tel Aviv “out of the sands,” choosing not to see the ancient Arab city of Jaffa (Hebrew, Yafo; Arabic, Yaffa) one kilometer to the south. As Israel conquered parts of historic Palestine in 1948, and then all of it in 1967, it expelled most of the land’s Palestinians to Jordan, the West Bank, and Gaza, and razed Palestinian towns or gave them Hebrew names and settled them with Holocaust survivors flooding from Europe and Mizrahi Jews flooding in from neighboring countries. This erasure of the land’s “Arabness” set the stage for the blindness of today.
What makes this blindness both shocking and dangerous is that Israel is incredibly small. Historic Palestine, including Israel, Gaza, and the West Bank, is smaller than New Jersey. It can fit into Texas thirty times. The mindset of Tel Avivians is that the problem is all the way “over there” in the south, but Gaza is really not that far at 40 miles away. What Israelis think of as all the way across the country is about the distance my parents commute to work each day in the Chicago suburbs. Because of these small distances, long-range missiles put about two-thirds, or 8 million Israelis in danger. And for even further perspective, the present population of historic Palestine adds up to about 13 million, or 4 percent the US population.
Just as the Israeli self-image is distorted, so is the image of Israel presented by the American media. 50,000 Facebook users have now shared the evidence of Diane Sawyer’s misleading ABC broadcast several days ago. “We take you overseas to the rockets raining down on Israel today as Israel tried to shoot them out of the sky,” she begins, setting the stage for a typical right-wing narrative that Israel is the sole victim of the terrorist violence. But the screen moves to images of Gaza, of Palestinian homes destroyed by Israel .
Hashtag #ApologizeABC is trending to convince the network to correct its error. The statement the users propose is telling :
What does this episode reveal about the American perspective? First, that “the situation,” as it is innocuously called by the Israeli officials, is widely misrepresented in America as a war between entities roughly equal in power. In the 2008 Gaza War, from which Israel lost a huge reserve of international credibility, around 1,400 Palestinians died compared to 13 Israelis—a similar ratio to the present conflict thus far. Before studying the conflict in Israel, I had grown up understanding the conflict as a war as well, but being here has allowed me to see through that removed, ideological position.
Before I arrived in Tel Aviv a few weeks ago, I was studying in Jerusalem. Jerusalem is a place where one cannot avoid the conflict. No matter what part of the city you are in, if you use the light rail train or walk near the Old City, you will be surrounded by Arabs, Jews, and Christians of all ages, of all levels of religiosity, forced together onto the same small patch of land. While this unfortunately leads to clashes, it also creates a much more realistic outlook on the conflict than people within the bubble of Tel Aviv have. While it is home to much of the violence and hatred between Jews and Arabs, it is also home to a number of peace initiatives, such as several integrated schools. It is a rare place where the idea of coexistence still holds ground, even if it is often outweighed by hatred in practice.
If I learned one thing from my stay in Jerusalem, it is that we cannot make sense of our surroundings without being blinded in some respects by ideology. How else do you explain the fascination each of the three religions of the book have with Jerusalem, and how they each claim it as their own holy city? Critical theorists Max Horkheimer and Theodor Adorno succinctly define ideology in Dialectic of Enlightenment as “the idolization of the existing order.” Ideology is any system of thought that makes the constructed present seem natural by erasing the signs of its construction. Capitalism is an ideology because its justification for the supremacy of money as the highest form of value is circular; after you read Marx and think about capitalism from his estranged perspective, you realize that daily life under capitalism rests on a huge set of assumptions, and that these are not natural but constructed. The education of Israeli youth is ideological because it teaches them that there is no other way than war—that war is the conceivable normal state of their country. In this case, the biggest ideology I see in the media is that because Israel is a victim—which it undoubtedly is—it is not also a party in instigating the present conflict. As long as its victim status trumps its status as a moral actor, it seems there is no way out of this mess besides the continued “self defense” happening in Gaza, and the status quo of occupation is maintained.
I recently downloaded the app Israel Red Alert (the same user sending rocket alerts to subscribers on the app Yo) to my iPhone, after being frustrated by the delay of the Israeli media in reporting the rocket explosions and interceptions I could hear going off around me every few hours—a fraction of the nearly 600 rockets Hamas has fired at Israel since Tuesday. Israel Red Alert is a private and unofficial app based in the United States (but created by Israelis) that reports all rocket strikes on Israel. It is not very useful within Israel. Its alerts are delayed and it doesn’t have access to military tracking on rockets like the public sirens do. Rather, its explicit purpose is to give people not living in Israel a sense of the calamity felt by Israelis who are constantly targeted—to frame Israel as a victim under constant siege. There is no comparable app, or public warning system, for Palestinians in Gaza, whose fear must be unimaginable right now.
The app allows users to comment on each missile strike, and the comments reveal who actually uses the app, and for what.
The app fosters an ideological community that blindly sees Israel only as a victim. From this perspective, most of these users want nothing more than for US to shower Israel with even more military aid, which they believe will solve the conflict. “Just bomb the hell out of the Arabs—kill them all,” comment users with names like “anti-islam.” They pray to God for this, literally.
There are Israeli Jews who are just as ideological and racist, but I understand that they are at least motivated by self-defense, not simply the disgusting Islamophobia these Americans show off. These Israelis are to some degree justified in their fear. But they are just as bad as the Americans in their responses to the recent unrest, which included a social media spree of calls for revenge after the Israeli teens were killed and “death to Arabs” rallies in the streets of Jerusalem. In an interview for a class project, I interviewed a secular-turned-ultra-orthodox man in Jerusalem who insisted that Arabs were animals with whom it was impossible to make peace. Such people make up a small but notable part of Israeli society, and they even have their own political parties.
Similar bigotry and hatred erupted in the US in the immediate aftermath of 9/11, though conditions for Muslims in public life in America have thankfully improved since. These waves of ideology matter. They fueled the American wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and the current dominance of the center-right Israeli Likud party and its star, Bibi Netanyahu. One hopes that if these people gave their support in a time of true military need, they can also take it away once things quiet down, and apply political pressure to restarting the peace process. But if the occupation has become as normalized for these people as it seems to be, they won’t see any alternative to it for the near future. The remarkable success of celebrity politician Yair Lapid’s startup party Yesh Atid (Hebrew for “there is a future”) in the last election is a promising step in this direction. But though its platform includes a two-state solution, its electoral success came from its promises to bring attention to neglected domestic issues like the cost of housing. Perhaps it’s a sign of ebbing complacency nevertheless.
The esteemed Israeli author David Grossman gave a moving speech at the Haaretz Conference for Peace just a few days ago. He spoke about hope. The force that once motivated the entire state of Israel has seemingly dried up. Hope for peace has all but evaporated. Ever since the sole real attempt at peace failed in 1993, it has been deemed naïve and unpopular to believe that Israel could ever alter its present circumstances. There’s no Palestinian leadership to negotiate with…you know the story.
“What hope can there be when such is the terrible state of things?” Grossman asks. “The hope of nevertheless. A hope that does not disregard the many dangers and obstacles, but refuses to see only them and nothing else” .
I came to study Judaism because I was fascinated by the nuanced moral optimism of a number of Jewish philosophers in the wake of the Holocaust. Having been forced into exile and alienated from the European societies they had formerly committed their lives to, Jewish figures like Emmanuel Levinas, Theodor Adorno, and Hannah Arendt each at first wrote with utter pessimism upon learning the fate of their fellow Jews of Europe. But they each gradually re-learned to hope, and to poetically tease out the marvels the war era revealed in the human spirit. Israel is one such marvel. It is a place where one can’t take much for granted because so much effort went into the land under every step.
I have come to love Israel, and for the sake of all of my friends here, I hope dearly that Shavit is wrong when he says that the era of peace I enjoyed here is over. I’m not a political analyst, but if circumstances soon reveal that this wave of violence is not an isolated episode, but a new reality, it doesn’t take a political analyst to realize that the status quo will simply not do. Together with Israelis and Palestinians, I know that it must change, and I hope that it will change.
After exiting the permanent exhibit at Yad Vashem, Israel’s national Holocaust museum, one overlooks a valley of forests planted by Zionists at the western edge of Jerusalem. It’s an incredible view, meant to instill optimism about the future of the Jews in Israel after they nearly lost everything in the Holocaust. As I watched the sun set over the land of Israel, I shared in that vision.
In today’s reality, Israel needs to be reminded of that originary sense of hope—hope not only for its immediate safety, but also for its future, and not for a return to the status quo of mere stability, but for real peace. This will require changing course, making sacrifices, and admitting past wrongs. Unlike so many of my fellow Americans, I am not praying for Israel. But I am truly hopeful.
All photos are courtesy of the author.
 “What did Israeli officials know about the missing teens, and when did they know it?” Alex Kane, Mondoweiss, 1 July 2014.
 “Millennials getting wet and wild in Tel Aviv while Jerusalem burns,” Asher Schechter, Haaretz , 10 July 2014.
 “Israel’s years of calm are over,” Ari Shavit, Haaretz, 10 July 2014.
 “‘Goliath’ Author Max Blumenthal On Israeli-Palestinian Crisis,” Max Blumenthal and Matt Sledge, The Huffington Post, 10 July 2014.
 “Jews now minority in Israel and territories,” J.J. Goldberg, The Jewish Daily Forward, 19 Sept. 2013.
 “Did Israel really think Hamas would turn the other cheek?” Gideon Levy, Haaretz, 10 July 2014.
 “Preserving US ties a security necessity,” Gabi Ashkenazi quoted by The Jerusalem Post , 1 Nov. 2012. “Israel has reached childhood’s end—it’s time to end U.S. aid to Israel,” Steven Strauss, The Huffington Post, 11 Oct. 2013.
 “A Growing Arsenal of Homegrown Rockets Encounters Israel’s Iron Dome,” Steven Erlanger, The New York Times, 9 July 2014.
 My Promised Land: The Triumph and Tragedy of Israel, Ari Shavit, Spiegel & Grau, 2013.
 “ABC News tells viewers that scenes of destruction in Gaza are in Israel,” Rania Khalek, Electronic Intifada , 9 July 2014.
 Billmon1, Tweet, 10 July 2014.
 “On hope and despair in the Middle East, David Grossman, Haaretz, 8 July 2014.