Many years ago, a chassidish friend of mine went on a tour of a Palestinian refugee camp in Eretz Yisrael.

She went as part of her professional duties, somehow connected to special education & social work.

The conditions in the camps appalled her & she spoke with the women there.

I responded, "I don't get it. Global organizations have been pouring hundreds of thousands—maybe even millions—of dollars into the refugee camps for years now. Why don't we see any improvements?"

What further bewildered me was how the dollar goes a long way in the Arab community. One thousand dollars in the Arab communities purchases so much more than in America or in the Jewish communities of Eretz Yisrael.

So why do the camps remain in such poor condition?

"Weapons," my friend replied.

"What do you mean?"

She explained, "When you ask them what they need so much money for, they say, 'Weapons! We need lots of weapons!' "

"What do they need so many weapons for?" I said.

My friend shrugged.

We know what they want the weapons for.

"Wait a minute," I said. "They say this outright?"

"Mm-hmm." My friend nodded.

"They're sitting there in obviously impoverished conditions & telling people they need money for weapons?"

My friend nodded again.

"And people give them money," I said.

"Apparently." Then she said, "No, they tell people they need money for infrastructure, food, clothing, and all that. But when people ask them why they need so much or why they see no improvement in their living conditions, the Palestinians tell them it's because they need to spend so much money on weapons."

Got it.

Some people never want to make good choices. Ever.

That includes the so-called refugees themselves, their leadership, and their donors & supporters.

(You can see more about the weapons issue in this past post: eating-my-words-after-yesterdays-post.html)

Then she spoke with one of the Muslim-Arab leaders. I forget his name because she couldn't remember exactly which one either.

It was a very well-known politician, maybe who even sits in the Knesset now, not sure.

Anyway, she got into a discussion with him & ended up leveling with him, "If you could solve the Palestinian problem right now, what would you do?"

(She's an elegant take-charge kind of person.)

He leaned toward her and said, "Honestly? You know what what I would do? You know what the Israelis really should do?"

"Yeah," she said. "Say it."

"Okay," he said, lowering his voice. "If you really want to solve the Palestinian problem? Then the Israelis need to gather up all the Palestinians, put them in Gaza, then build a wall around it. Three years later, they can open it up and go in to clean up all the bodies. Because by that time, the Palestinians will all have killed each other."

And there you have it, ladies & gentlemen—coming from a Muslim-Arab leader himself. Don't you just love all that warm 'n' fuzzy Muslim brotherhood?

And how do you think his constituents feel about someone like him in charge of them & representing them?

Yet on camera, he's full of self-righteous indignation about anti-Arab attitudes & Arab rights.

​For himself. But he doesn't say that. He pretends to care about his brethren.

Of course, since then, the Israelis did build a wall, but they didn't seal it & leave the inhabitants completely up to their own devices. Nor did they round up all the Palestinians in the country to Gaza.

As a group, the Israelis cannot be as cruel to them as they are to each other.

Several years ago, a non-Jewish woman, fascinated by anything to do with Jews, settled down for a long stay in Eretz Yisrael.

While here, she learned to find fault with anything not secular or Leftist in Israel. She also managed to regularly offend all sorts of Israelis, then get huffy about why they responded to her with hostility.

After leaving in a huff, she visited Jordan and a Palestinian refugee camp in Jordan.

(As we all know, Jordan is ruled by fellow Muslim-Arabs & the country is 70% Palestinian—whatever that means.)

Still self-righteously indignant over her experience in Israel, she cooed, "You should've seen the Palestinian refugees in Jordan! They're HAPPY. And that's despite living in much worse conditions than the ones in Israel."

"The refugee camp in Jordan is worse than the one in Israel?" I said.

"MUCH worse!" she said. "But the ones in Jordan don't complain! They're happy, they PRAISE the Jordanian royal family all the time, they have pictures of the king all over the place." Then her tone changed. "But the Palestinians in the camps in Israel are so ANGRY! They complain all the time about how bad the Israelis treat them, and the conditions the Israelis force them to live in! They HATE the Israelis!" (She said this like it she agreed with them. Yeah, mean Jews! Bad, bad!)

"Okay..." I said.

"So we see how BAD the Israelis are! They treat their Palestinian refugees so BADLY!"

​"Okay," I said. "But do you think that maybe their insistence on praising the regime in Jordan has to do with the Black September massacre by King Hussein in 1970?"

"What?" she said.

"After all," I said, "King Hussein ordered his troops to go fight them, resulting in a massacre of around 20,000 Palestinian men, women, children, and babies. 1970 isn't so long ago. And all the people around old enough to remember certainly remember that horrific bloodbath. Don't you think they might be afraid of criticizing the regime, or even showing ANY kind of dissatisfaction, knowing how brutal the consequences could be?"

"Oh," she said. "Oh, I didn't even think of...huh." Then she started laughing. "Oh, right! Like, if someone had massacred all their family, then that might make them afraid of criticizing that person—hah-hah-hah-hah! I get it. Okay. That's a good point!"

​Oh-ho-ho! Ruthless massive massacres! LOL! ROTFL!!!!!

Not.

"Anyway," I said. "I think if the conditions are so bad, it doesn't make sense for them to be so happy and to love the king so much—especially after his father had so many of them slaughtered. They probably pretend to be happy in front of visitors so they don't get into trouble."

"Ah, so you think they were just pretending..." she said, obviously disappointed by the idea.

"Well...yeah," I said. "Look, it doesn't make sense for the Palestinians in refugee camps in Israel to be so angry in better conditions, while the Palestinians in refugee camps in Jordan are so happy & in love with their regime while living in so much worse conditions."

"Oh," she said. "Right."

And that was the end of it.

After all, historical facts always put such an damper on self-righteous Israel-bashing.​

In Rav Avigdor Miller's dvar Torah for Parshas Chayei Sara 5 – Growing Old, the rav starts off by describing the importance of hair.

In addition to performing a life-preserving cushion, hair also displays Hashem's wonders.

On page 5, Rav Miller describes a single wispy strand of hair:

Rav Miller also notes the amazing phenomenon of hair growing out of skin.

We're used to seeing it, but the process is quite incredible.

We eat, our cells turn our food into keratin, and the keratin turns into hair.

​And then at some point, a person's hair turns white.

Why does Hashem cause pigment to run out of hair, turning it white over time?

Fading hair signals age to society.

It means that person no longer needs to do all they were expected to do before.

A white-haired man no longer needs to go to war, for example.

He can sit.

White hair also signifies a lifetime of experience & accumulated wisdom.

Of course, this depends on the old person.

​As Rav Miller says (page 7):

Nowadays, we see a lot of older people striving to imitate the youth. They act silly, dress silly, use foul language or inappropriate topics they never would've used in their younger days, and in general, don't behave with appropriate dignity & don't seem so smart.

In fact, you can hear them spout the same empty-headed platitudes from mainstream media that their grandchildren spout.

But ideally, old age should bring wisdom.

​And there are still wise older people around.

Another problem today is the social tendency to "look toward the children!" and "listen to what the children have to say!"

Needless to say, if a child needs to express his or her thoughts or feelings regarding a personal situation, then that's fine.

But modern society considers children pure and therefore wiser than others.

You see teenagers & preteens getting tons of attention for speaking about controversial issues — and usually, they've no grasp of the long-term effects of the issues or even of the complexities surrounding the short-term effects.

Ronald Reagan was criticized about his old age while John F. Kennedy was praised for his youth.

Certainly, if a person's brain is old & deteriorating, then that's a problem. Likewise, the problem mentioned above regarding an older person who never learned from his wrongdoings.

But all things being equal, leadership & counsel should go to the hands of the older not the younger.​

Fading hair should also signal something on the personal level.

It's a sign that time is running out.

Hopefully, that's not scary or depressing, but motivating.

​Growing old represents Hashem's chessed in giving us notice and time to get our act together.

The stooped posture of many much older people symbolizes looking for something lost (as if one dropped a coin on the ground & tries to spot it).

But even the definition of "lost" means different things.

People tend to mourn over what they lost even when they can't take it with them.

There are priorities.

As Rav Miller explains on page 15:

Really, says Rav Miller, the stooped graying older person should say:

It's worth reading page 18 for Rav Miller's description of the residents of an old-age home, and the contrast between the person who had Torah in his life and the people who didn't.

​Rav Miller speaks of the tragedy of older people who waste their last years.

This incident on page 20 page struck me hard:

This deeply saddened me.

It hurts my heart because at least this old man seemed to have some idea of what "saying Tehillim" meant.

The older Jewish men in the community in which I grew up (and family members in other places) would have no idea what that means.

Some would.

But a lot would not & will not.

Even the word "Tehillim" — It'd be like, "What'd you say? 'Tell him'? Tell him what?"

A lot remain with non-Jewish wives until the day they die. If she underwent a fake conversion, then he thinks his wife & children are Jewish & has no idea of the terrible harm he does to himself for most of his life.

(You should know that just for THIS alone, I hold terrible resentment against the movements for Conservative & Reform Judaism for creating & perpetrating this hoax I witnessed my whole life. There are Jews who never would have married a non-Jew...except for this destructive hoax of pseudo-conversions for the non-Jewish spouse. I don't know what will be with the Olam Haba of any of them. It's very frightening.)

But the ones married to non-Jews are more or less the same.

At least the man knew enough to mumble.

Credit for all quotes & material goes to Toras Avigdor.

Despite not being a Breslover myself, I've felt intrigued for years by the whole Uman-in-Rosh-Hashanah minhag.

Breslov writings have always spoken to my heart & soul, even though we are not Breslov chassidim.

I would even like to go to Uman myself to say Tikkun HaKlali at Rebbe Nachman's grave site.

On the other hand, I also had questions about leaving Eretz Yisrael for Uman to daven Rosh Hashanah by the kever (grave site) of Rebbe Nachman of Breslov.

(Like, if you want to spend Rosh Hashanah in a holy place, then what's wrong with the Kotel or the grave sites of Rachel Imeinu or Rebbi Shimon in Meron? Why davka Uman?)

Likewise, it's not clear whether Rebbe Nachman included those living in Eretz Yisrael in his directive to spend Rosh Hashanah at his grave site in Uman.

In fact, some Breslovers conduct a special gathering in Eretz Yisrael for Rosh Hashanah.

(For more on this, please see Rav Itamar Schwartz briefly discussing the issue here: question.bilvavi.net/blog/2021/10/09/uman-rosh-hashanah-5782/)

At the same time, I cannot deny the powerful experiences many encounter during Rosh Hashanah in Uman.

(A really absorbing compilation of the most extraordinary of these experiences can be found in The Stolen Light.)

Fortunately, one of my teenagers went to Uman for Rosh Hashanah this year (2021/5782), so we received a lot of insight into the whole dynamic.

We never expected this particular child to go. I have other kids more likely to go, kids who've even expressed a desire to go.

But never this one.

Yet around 3 weeks before Rosh Hashanah, he suddenly expressed a desire to go to Uman.

My husband & I offered to help him financially (even though he was working & could manage it), but we didn't think the trip would work out. After all, he didn't even have a passport.

But he simply started the process & it was so weird how things went.

Obstacles kept popping up, then immediately evaporate.

For example, the only appointments left for passports were after Rosh Hashanah.

Fortunately, a friend's mother worked at the passport office in Ministry of Interior, and she offered to help.

Unfortunately, she ended up not being able to get him an appointment.

Fortunately, there was another way to do it at the airport (a couple of weeks before the day of departure).

So he and his God-fearing motorcyclist friend got to the airport & waiting on line until the early morning hours.

Then just before his turn, they stopped accepting one kind of payment & only accepted a kind of payment he didn't have with him. (Can't remember which way it went, but it was credit card vs. cash).

He quickly said Rebbe Nachman's Tikkun HaKlali, and literally the turn before his, they decided to accept his form of payment.

"Rabbeinu was with me," said our son later. "Rabbeinu helped us."

My husband and I looked at each other. Did this kid just say "Rabbeinu"?

(Rabbeinu — our rabbi — is how Breslover chassidim refer to Rebbe Nachman of Breslov.)

They managed to get a flight with a 4-hour stopover in Turkey. (This was ridiculous because the flight was well under 2 hours from Eretz Yisrael to Istanbul & then again from Istanbul to Kiev.) But no direct flights were available at that point.

I was concerned because he gets headaches & dizziness when he doesn't eat properly & regularly, plus he doesn't like fruits or vegetables, which is all there is to eat for kosher food outside Jewish centers.

(But he ended up being fine from beginning to end, baruch Hashem. Lots of siyata d'Shmaya.)  

A week before the flight, he came down with a cough. And travel regulations also necessitated a covid test.

"I'm sure it'll come out positive," he moaned.

I thought so too.

Then he didn't get the results back on time. So up until the day before he needed to leave, we didn't know if he could actually go.

His flight was around midnight Saturday night and he only got the results back Friday afternoon.

And the test came back negative.

So off he went with his God-fearing motorcyclist friend and a few others to Uman, via Istanbul & Kiev.

The English-reading night-course he'd been taking came in very handy as he ended up being the only one in his group who could read or speak English.

The flight attendants on Turkish Airlines were amazingly patient & courteous, despite serious cultural differences & language barriers.

Or maybe by now, they're simply used to all kinds of Jews traveling between Eretz Yisrael & Kiev at this time of year.

For example, the flight crew told the passengers the plane would only take off in another 40 minutes.

So one of the Breslovers decided that was a good time to daven Shemoneh Esrei. 

And he was right.

Rather than standing during the flight or blocking a passageway, it's better to utilize the delay time on the ground.

Except that...the flight suddenly got bumped ahead & take-off was happening in another 10 minutes.

How often does that happen, that you end up taking off much EARLIER than announced?

The flight attendant tried very nicely asking the Breslover to take a seat & belt up, but he didn't even seem to hear her amid his lofty davening.

So my son nicely explained to her what was going on & approximately when the guy would be finished.

Unlike the American airlines making headlines in recent years, not one flight attendant yelled at or attacked the unwitting Breslover, nor called the police to have him removed.

They adjusted to the situation, the Breslover finished & sat down, and then the plane took off without further ado.

​On all my son's Turkish Airlines flights (4 in all, round-trip), the flight attendants showed a lot of sensitivity & accommodation toward the Uman-bound passengers, most of whom did not speak English. (My son ended up translating a lot.)

All the Uman-bound passengers were nice, but just did not always understand what was going on.

​And yes, we later wrote a letter to Turkish Airlines praising them for their excellent service & outstanding flight attendants. 

It's a long ride from Kiev to Uman (around 4 hours), but the apartment my son shared with others was really nice.

Also, the atmosphere was extraordinary.

And back home, we could actually feel it!

I know that sounds weird, but we felt that a close family member in Uman uplifted our Rosh Hashanah back in Eretz Yisrael.

I guess it's the soul connection.

Not only that, but our son managed to get right up against Rebbe Nachman's tomb on the first day and say Tikkun HaKlali several times for each of us.

Because everyone else around him was davening at the top of their lungs, singing at the top of their lungs, and dancing for all they were worth, my son felt perfectly comfortable shouting each word of Tikkun HaKlali at the top of his lungs.

He is usually a pretty reserved fellow.

But that is the power of Uman: a certain spiritual liberation, a certain freedom of expression.

Anyway, it takes a long time to say 10 Psalms in that manner, but he felt great every moment of it. And he did it several times.

My son stayed in Uman for around a week & met tons of people he knew, from both his present & past, including former teachers.

He also adapted well to the Ukrainian mentality.

For example, while using an ATM machine, which he'd set to English, everything suddenly reverted to Russian.

And he could not extract his credit card.

At that moment, a Ukrainian man passed by, so my son asked him for help.

After scanning everything, the Ukrainian claimed he didn't understand it either, and prepared to go on his way.

So my son handed the man 5 Ukrainian hryvni (60 agurot/19 cents). And suddenly, the man understood how to work the ATM!

He extracted my son's credit card with no problem.

Who knew understanding could be bought for only 5 hryvni?

My son also learned one should not look any of the numerous patrolling Ukrainian soldiers in the eye. If you do, they immediately ask you to empty your pockets & search you for contraband. Or whatever.

His cough subsided somewhat & immediately upon coming back to Eretz Yisrael, another mandatory covid test came back negative.

Then his coughing stopped completely, and yet another mandatory covid test given a week after his return came back positive.

"I don't get it," I said. "Now that he davka feels good, he's sick?" 

(That is a story for another time.)

So...since we are long past the whole to-Uman-and-back saga, and I've had lots of time to chew over everything, here are my conclusions:

• Rebbe Nachman's Promise

Before he passed away, Rebbe Nachman called upon 2 of his close disciples to witness a special vow:
"If someone comes to my grave, gives a coin to charity and says these ten Psalms, I will pull him out from the depths of Gehinnom. It makes no difference what he did until that day, but from that day on, he must take upon himself not to return to his foolish ways."

While the condition about refraining from returning to "foolish ways" goes lost on many, the promise itself proves undeniably compelling.

This is a strong pull for anyone serious about self-improvement & feels genuine concern about what will be with him in the Next World.

• What's so special about Uman?

Uman is a place where you can let it all hang out, spiritually.

You can shout prayers at the top of your lungs, sing out, dance in the streets, and so on.

Any inner joy you feel can be expressed freely at any moment, with no embarrassment or any other kind of restraint.

No repression whatsoever.

​Total freedom of spiritual expression.

No one looks askance at you for praying with loud fervor or for singing religious songs & dancing in the street.

Religious emotion experiences complete liberation.

This means someone like my son, a generally more constrained & quiet fellow, can access the heart in a way he never could before.

This also means you're never bored in Uman.

For example, there are always people dancing in the street. So if you feel bored at, say, 2:43 in the morning, you can simply get up and go join the guys already dancing there.

Another appealing aspect of Uman (which connects to the unbridled spiritual expression) is the unconditional acceptance of every Jew there, regardless of how he looks or his flaws or background.

You can go there as you are with all your issues...and feel comfortable.

And yes, this "anything goes" attitude enables unfitting behavior too.

There is always a downside to any good thing.

Klippah (spiritual impurity) always seeks to attach itself to holiness & spiritual purity.

But for someone who wants the truly spiritual experience particular to Uman (especially around Rosh Hashanah), that truly spiritual experience is terrifically accessible & almost impossible to access anywhere else.

• What is so special about Rosh Hashanah in Uman?

Because of the atmosphere described above, the davening ends up being an unparalleled experience.

It's much longer than at most other shuls around the world, but the atmosphere makes it exhilarating so you don't feel like, "Oy, this is so long! When do we get to eat already?"

Even guys who don't generally like davening or who don't even make it to a Shabbat minyan regularly find themselves heading out to daven with anticipation & then davening every single Rosh Hashanah tefillah with gusto.

Like my son said, there is nothing like answering Kaddish with 20,000 (more or less) others shouting the same words at the same time.

​Think about it: It's praising Hashem with one heart & thousands of voices together.

Also, because it's Rosh Hashanah, everyone is more or less in the same frame of mind, which contributes to the whole atmosphere.

• The Reality of the Post-Rosh Hashanah Uman-Attendee

Here was the big chiddush for me:

I realized, despite many compelling stories to the contrary, one should NOT expect a person to do teshuvah in Uman.

Even after Rosh Hashanah in Uman—and even though Rosh Hashanah is all about self-transformation & renewal at the deepest levels.

Miracles or salvations?

Yes!

I've personally known people who found a shidduch after davening by Rebbe Nachman in Uman or claimed to be cured of a disease.

I personally experienced spiritual "lifts" or little salvations when people davened for me in Uman—even before I knew they did it.

But for someone do actually do teshuvah in the way we think?

Well...listening to my son list all the people he met in Uman got me thinking.

Some of the people were in a good place spiritually speaking, and some were not.

Of the ones not in such a good place spiritually (and whom I knew from their better days), many had been to Uman before, yet remained in their less spiritual state (as far as appearances go, anyway).

Furthermore, I've known people taken as boys to Uman by their fathers, and who went to Uman as teenagers or older, and they either didn't stay so frum. Or they aren't frum at all. Or they even went to jail for some offense or another.

I'm not saying that's the majority—it's NOT!

But it seems the experience of Rosh Hashanah in Uman is the experience itself, and not any visible long-term imprint on the person himself.

Meaning, we all know tons of people who did teshuvah after:

• visiting the Kotel (that happened to me)
• spending Shabbat amid Orthodox hospitality
• listening to a Torah class
• attending a Torah class
• attending an Orthodox seminary or yeshivah
• reading a Torah book
• coming to Eretz Yisrael
• getting mentored by a caring frum individual
• seeing authentic frum behavior (kiddush Hashem, good frum Jews living their normal frum lives, etc.)

But we often don't know people (whether already frum or secular) who made a huge long-term change in themselves after Rosh Hashanah by Rebbe Nachman in Uman.

Come to think of it, I also don't know anyone who did teshuvah after davening at Kever Rachel Imeinu in Beit Lechem or Rebbe Shimon Bar Yochai in Meron.

Again, it's important to differentiate between:

• having prayers answered

and

• self-transformation/improvement (teshuvah)

I asked my husband & sons about this too.

(That sounds pretty narrow, but my sons are all different from each other with access to different crowds in society, plus my husband knows lots of different people around the country.)

One of my sons used to hang around with Breslovers & even went a couple of times to daven with the Breslov sunrise minyan in another city (courtesy of his friend's father who drove them there at around 4 in the morning).

And they all said the same thing: They also never met anyone who did teshuvah after davening by Rebbe Nachman in Uman.

So what does that mean?

Are the stories true?

Yes! 

If someone says they did teshuvah, they made a long-term change in their middot or lifestyle after davening by Rebbe Nachman...I believe them!

But I realize now that it's rare.

If it was something likely to happen, we'd know at least one person who did it.

But we don't. (Hopefully, you do. But we do not.)

Why is that important?

Because I wanted to go to Uman myself & send others there for purposes of self-transformation.

And I know others desiring the same.

And now I realize the intended purpose probably won't happen.

Again, it COULD happen. It occasionally happens to others.

But it probably won't & people should realize that before they invest so much time & money into it.

If a person wishes to go Uman to get prayers answered or for a heightened spiritual experience, then that's a very good reason.

Answered prayers & heightened spiritual experience are likely to happen during a visit to Rebbe Nachman's kever.

​And that's a good enough reason to go. (Or to send someone.)

​But not teshuvah.

So how do I feel about the whole "Uman Rosh Hashanah" experience now?

Very positively.

I would love for all my sons & my husband to experience at least one Rosh Hashanah in Uman.

There's profound value in extremely heightened davening, especially throughout such a critical time of the Jewish year.

Like I said, we could feel it back in Eretz Yisrael because we had a son/brother there.

The achdut & achvah & chessed & joy permeating the atmosphere (both emotionally & practically), plus the unparalleled opportunity for unfettered spiritual expression & truly accessing the heart (which Rav Schwartz says in harder for men than for women — and this is exactly what Uman gives men)...

...that is extremely precious.

And such powerful davening will always stay on a person's cheshbon, no matter what.

It stamps an imprint on the person's soul.

No matter what, he'll always have that spiritual heart experience in his portion, with all the reward & benefits that entails.

And I think that's very valuable & worth it.

Related post:
https://breslov.org/q-what-is-the-purpose-of-tikkun-klalli-and-why-specificaly-those-ten-psalms/

I see I need to eat my words after yesterday's post!

(the-secret-harm-hiding-within-israeli-leftism.html)

Hey, it happens sometimes.

You might have already seen the viral video of yeshivah students dressed like Arabs & dancing with rifles at a charedi wedding to be mesame'ach chatan, but I only just discovered it:
www.jdn.co.il/video/1623851/

See? I was wrong. Jews do it too! Only they're not actually shooting.

Okay...I'm writing tongue-in-cheek.

The rifles aren't even real.

But in the video below that one, you can see a real Arab wedding taking place in the Balata refugee camp near Shechem — the type of wedding on which the costumed bachurim based their act.

(Just for knowing: Jordan, Lebanon, and Syria also have Palestinian refugee camps to host their fellow Muslim-Arab brothers & sisters.)

Seeing as AK-47s & M16s go for around $700-$800 (when legal) & black-market AK-47s get into the $1000-$2000 range in this region (although my husband claims it's actually closer to 40,000NIS/$12,500), and also seeing how these refugees clearly have so many of them, it sure makes me wonder where all the money donated to UNRWA & Tomorrow's Youth Organization is going.

​In that crowded little clip, you can see at least 4 rifles. That's a few thousand dollars right there (or, if my husband is correct, a year of tuition at Harvard).

Plus the bullets don't come cheap either & the guys shooting in their buddies' ears didn't seem like they were scrimping on the ammo.

I mean, sure, electricity, schools, food, and clean water are really important.

But apparently, so is coming fully armed to a wedding.

​So we see from this how, via the assistance of generous donors worldwide, the inhabitants of Balata clearly have the funds for fully automatic rifles, spiffy haircuts, and hair gel.

Maybe someday they'll also get around to sorting out all the cement & aluminum in background.

Meanwhile, I'd better make me a donation to help out those oppressed & impoverished Palestinians!

(That was a joke. Saying it's a joke sort of ruins it. But everyone knows that both humor & brain cells disappear on the Internet. Personally, I think aliens abduct them.)

​(That was also a joke.)

Global prices to buy AK-47s on the black market (inquiring minds want to know!):
www.statista.com/chart/8759/the-cost-of-an-ak-47-on-the-black-market/

One of the aspects keeping me firmly on the right with regard to Israeli-Arab politics was the authentic views of Muslim-Arabs themselves.

For example, my son's boss Mustafa lives in what everyone calls a "kfar" (village) — which sounds quaint & primitive, but in actuality, hosts palatial homes.

When my son needed to drive his boss's car to his boss's home (a multi-story luxury villa which hosts his boss's family, his boss's parents, and his boss's brother's family — all with plenty of room & separate entrances, like an apartment building), my son parked the car in the family garage...next to one brother's Audi & another brother's Mercedes.

Many of the Muslim-Arab women in the kfar work in a local hi-tech Israeli company.

Mustafa & his wife regularly treat themselves to European vacations.

O, to be a poor & oppressed minority in Israel!

(Wait a minute...I AM a minority in Israel! Just not a NON-Jewish minority...)

To be fair, despite the kfar's progressive appearance (everyone speaks Hebrew as a fluent second language, many enjoy financial security & respectable jobs, plus many enjoy higher education — my son's boss earned a law degree — and they're not terribly religious Muslims, they get along with Jews pretty well, etc.), my son's boss is part of the main clan that runs the kfar.

And Mustafa is considered one of the respected members of that ruling clan.

This is part of the reason why my son could drive through the kfar in Mustafa's car in relative security.

It was pretty funny when, after entering the kfar, everyone my son passed honked & waved at him, thinking he was Mustafa, and then did a double-take upon seeing a Jew at the wheel.

(If you're wondering...there were some business documents necessary to update that day, which Mustafa had forgotten about. So while he was sleeping in, my son high-tailed over to the kfar to bring him the necessary documents before time ran out. As my son stepped out onto the sidewalk, he encountered Mustafa's wife rushing to work. "Oh, the door's unlocked," she cheerfully said after my son quickly explained the problem. "You can just go in and wake him up! Bye! Need to run!"

And my son was like, I'm NOT going to do that! Instead, he just kept knocking & ringing until Mustafa woke up.)

Even though many of the kfar's residents have Israeli citizenship, they refuse to serve in the IDF or vote in Israeli elections.

Officially, they oppose non-Muslim "occupation" (despite how much they're thriving in comparison to their co-religionists in the region).

Yet one day, Mustafa & a couple of guys from the kfar told my son if they would vote they would vote for...Bibi Netanyahu.

At first glance, that makes no sense.

After all, Netanyahu headed Likud, a right-of-center party.

No one thinks of the Likud as particularly concerned with Arab rights, nor does the Likud ever present themselves that way.

You'd think Muslim-Arabs would vote for an Arab party or a Leftist party.

But no.

Mustafa and his fellows felt things went well for them under Bibi's leadership.

(And they aren't the only Arabs in Israel who think this way.)

The Arab mentality ALWAYS favors strong leaders. You cannot rule effectively in the Middle East without strength.

This has always been true — including in pre-Islamic times.

Strong patriarchal leadership is not religious (although it became that too), but cultural.

And they perceive Bibi as strong.

(Plus, economics went well for them during his term.)

Another complaint expressed by Mustafa & his cousins concerned controversy over the law of citizenship regarding spouses from what are known as Palestinian territories.

Due to legitimate terrorist concerns, such people could not receive Israeli citizenship upon marrying an Israeli-Arab.

Unfortunately, certain Israeli government ministers wished to change this.

They wanted to display fairness & generosity toward the Muslim-Arab population.

However, Mustafa & his cousins (along with many other Arabs) disagreed.

​"What, I need some primitive guy coming from the Palestinian territories who loses his head way too easily, and can just plunge a knife in me during a disagreement?" Mustafa asked rhetorically.

​It's hard to argue with that logic.

Mustafa & his cousins explained how they dislike dealing with such hot-headed uncivilized people — people with a strong propensity toward violence.

Yes, they're fellow Muslim-Arabs. But the whole Arab brotherhood thing is a farce. 

Their Arab world remains divided by clans & outside of clans, divided by different ethnicities & nationalities.

I've also come across comments by Lebanese Muslim-Arabs regarding their own Palestinians, whom the native Lebanese often see as troublemakers & thieves who ruin the neighborhood.

​Of course there are always differences between people of the same ethnicity or religion.

No group is completely uniform.

But the way simple-minded Leftists pander to purely theoretical Arab interests while ignoring the real Arab interests?

​Nobody wins.

Another son worked with a Muslim-Arab in an area with a lot of secular Israeli Leftists.

That son quickly developed a disgust for the customers who kissed up to the Arab employee by cooing at him & flattering him during business transactions, plus expressing fake concern by saying things like, "What can be done about the high rate of murder in the Arab sector?"

As if they care.

(Note: In addition to speaking with Arabs, it's good to speak with Israeli Leftists. Contrary to how they present themselves, many of them do not actually like Arabs. In fact, they usually dislike anyone who is not exactly like them. They crave utter uniformity. A lot of their Leftist policies — including a 2-state solution — derive from their need to feel "righteous" AND to live apart from Arabs. They would also like to live apart from any religious Jews too. When Israeli Leftists speak of "co-existence," they actually mean "and never the twain shall meet." Israeli Leftists love segregation.)

Apparently, the high rate of murder in the Arab sector (1-2 every day) has recently become a big issue in Israeli media.

(And, in contrast to their representation in mainstream media, you may be surprised to learn that national-religious Jewish settlers are NOT behind the high murder rate in the Arab sector. Neither are Buddhists. Or Baptists. Or Mormons. Or Trump. And nope — not chareidim either! Guess who the real culprits are...)

The Arab guy always replied with something agreeable like, "Yeah! The police need go in & confiscate all the weapons! That's the only way!"

In other words, Israel needs to make the Arab sector a gun-free zone.

(There will now be a pause until those of you in-the-know stop laughing your heads off.)

Then an hour later, the Arab guy turned to my son and said, "You know, the other night my neighbor started shooting off his AK-47 during a family simcha in his home and woke my toddler. I had to go over there & tell him to stop. He apologized & promised to be more considerate next time."

Needless to say, his neighbor was in the same clan or the interaction might not have gone so smoothly.

"Yeah," continued the Arab co-worker. "Every single family in my area owns an AK-47! We don't have ONE home without a fully automatic weapon!" he boasted.

And my son was like, Wait a minute. I could've sworn that just one hour ago, someone who looks exactly like you was saying the illegal weapons ownership in the Arab sector was a problem & needed to be confiscated by the police!

We also see glaring cultural differences here.

Can you imagine that, instead of breaking a plate at a vort, the kallah's father simply started blasting 5-millimeter bullets out the window?

Knock-knock. "Mazal tov! I'm very sorry to bother you, Yeruchmiel Yoisef, and I'm sure you didn't realize it, but all your leibedich shooting woke my little Mendy."

"Oy, I'm so very sorry, Duvid. Thank you for being dan l'kaf zechus. I'll be sure to take your Mendy's shluffy time into consideration at our next simcha."

"Shkoyach, Yeruchmiel Yoisef! Oif simchos!"​

Then I said to my son, "Wait a minute...where is the Arab sector getting all these AK-47s from? Israel doesn't use AK-47s."

My son looked at me sagely and said, "They smuggle them in from Jordan & Egypt, and places like that."

In other words, all the surrounding countries.

(Note: I looked it up & Israel acquired AK-47s from battles with neighboring Arab armies. And they used them. And they created the Galil in imitation. But you don't run into AK-47s in Israel. Every time I've seen a rifle or someone talks about a rifle, it's always an M-16, a Tavor, an Uzi, etc., but never an AK-47. At least, that's my experience. So it's weird that so many Arabs in Israel own AK-47s...and without permits too, needless to say. How do they do that with such strict gun control going on? Hmm...)

Anyway, it's conversations like these that cemented my political views AGAINST the Israeli Left.

(The above are just the most recent samples & not the only interactions.)

Educated & successful Muslim-Arabs who truly wish to live good lives without war & terrorism actually oppose Leftist policies, which treat the Muslim-Arab world as a monolith & tend to favor the less civilized sectors to the detriment of the normal sectors of the Arab world.

Yes, in public, Muslim-Arabs tend to voice the opinion they feel needs to be said.

Whether they say it from actual conviction, religious duty, peer pressure, fear, getting caught up in the emotion of brotherhood, or some other reason...they say publicly whatever they think they should say.

And even the ones thriving under Israeli rule secretly wish they could live under Muslim rule.

That's their religious view, shared by even the less religious Muslims.

(In case you're wondering why they want Muslim rule when it's clearly not working well for the majority of Muslims in nearly every Muslim country in the world, they'll point to Turkey as an example. They think Muslim rule in Israel would be like Turkey and not like every other Muslim country. Although...I don't think Turkey provides better opportunities than Israel. And Israel's Muslims fantasize they'd enjoy the same standard of living under Muslim rule as they enjoy now under Jewish rule.)

But in private conversation, they freely express their true feelings.

And as we see above, regardless of their true feelings & friendly behavior, there is a very real difference in mentality.

(They shoot fully automatic machine guns in the air at their simchos; we complain about the music being too loud at ours, etc. Okay, not ALL of them do that...but it's common enough.)

And in addition to the fact that Leftism is so harmful toward Jews in Eretz Yisrael, the harm it causes the Arab sector merely solidified my view of Leftism as a wholly useless & harmful — and even deadly — approach to life in Israel.

Follow-up post: eating-my-words-after-yesterdays-post.html

In Rav Avigdor Miller's dvar Torah Parshas Vayeira 5 – Towering Greatness, we learn about true priorities & prestige.

As Rav Miller himself acknowledges, those of us living in pseudo-egalitarian democracies struggle to feel comfortable with hierarchies — even holy ones.

But the truth is, different levels of importance exist.

Of course, Hashem deeply involves Himself with every human being & every aspect of Creation (page 7):

EVERYONE gets rewarded for ANYTHING positive they do.

Everyone.

Even the absolute worst people in the world who can hardly be called human.

Some people love hearing that; others detest hearing that.

But it is 100% true & an integral belief within authentic Torah Judaism.

It always provides a major explanation why good things happen to really awful people.

​As Rav Miller continues on page 7:

Really, this Torah concept means to give us hope for ourselves & to feel really good about anything good we do.

It also shows us how much Hashem focuses on anything good we do, even the tiniest good.

Hashem prizes the positive. He orients himself on the positive.

So we should do — both regarding ourselves & others. 

But the major lesson underlying Hashem's priorities & His Focus on the best comes to tell us that great & important often don't look great & important.

Many times, truly great people seem strange to those less great than them.

Truly great people can seem odd, eccentric, naïve, sweetly childlike, and so on.

​In fact, if a regular person does something only a couple of levels higher than average, others consider him nuts.

Rav Miller recalled the 1940s, when any many with a beard seemed like a weirdo.

Rav Miller went with a beard and people thought he was loony. Literally, some people told him to his face that he was crazy.

This is huge chizuk for us because many of us found ourselves being discounted or disparaged simply for adding even one frum act to our behavior that was beyond the norm of whatever society we lived (whether frum or not or both).

Remember what Rav Miller says on page 9 (the original idea is from Hoshea 9:7, as explained a few paragraphs above this one):

Starting on page 11, Rav Miller delves into a topic that disturbs many of us.

And that's the people who look soooooo frum & act sooooo frum (or maybe we, in our naivete, consider someone oh-so frum when they're obviously not) — but are not so great.

Malachi 18 tells us that when Judgement Day comes, we'll see who is really a tzaddik & who is really a rasha.

We'll see who served Hashem & who did not serve Hashem.

A lot of people get disillusioned from illusions of frumkeit & piety. But we should train ourselves to focus on the people who are REALLY TRYING — including focusing on the people who actually succeed in being genuinely good & truly serving Hashem.

Hashem knows the truth.

​And one day, we will too.

While going along with a good frum crowd is a beneficial & virtuous thing, Hashem wants more from each of us.

We're all bursting with potential.

That's said so often by the New Yuck Times bestsellers list of self-help gurus, many of us no longer take that idea seriously.

It sounds like something said just to chirk us up.

But it's a fundamental Torah idea.

​Here's what Rav Miller says we should say to ourselves (page 17):

Rav Miller (and everyone else!) stresses the great value of tiny baby steps.

Even one tiny bit more catapults you to unperceivable heights.

That's why the astoundingly great Malkitzedek remains in the wings of Parsha Vayera while Avraham Avinu takes center stage.

Malkitzedek was one of the greatest people in his generation. His real name was Shem — yes, Shem the son of Noach.

But as great as Malkitzedek/Shem was (and he really was!), Avraham Avinu the son of the prime idol-maker of the world at that time, pushed himself even more...even if it made him look crazy in the eyes of ancient Mesopotamia.

​And that made all the difference. 

I just found out the heart-breaking news that we lost the battle to save the life of 2-year-old Alta Fixsler.
https://hamodia.com/2021/10/19/murder-by-any-other-name/

(The article makes note of England's opposition to the death penalty for the worst criminals — indeed, England has no death penalty — yet they insisted on sentencing little Alta to death.)

Hashem placed her in This World, in her perfectly imperfect state, for a reason.

She's not less important than the "prestigious" doctors & law officials who blocked her right to live.

(With her pure neshamah, she's actually MORE important than all of them put together.)

I think we all found appallingly bizarre the obstinance of British authorities to keep little Alta in England & to murder her despite the offers from Israeli & American hospitals to transport & care for her at no cost to England, paid for in full by others.

I can only end with the final words from the above article:

May Alta Fixsler, Hy”d, be a melitzas yosher for her family and for Klal Yisrael.

In Yeshayahu/Isaiah 61:1 (which is also the Haftarah for Parshat Nitzavim), we find a comforting verse Hashem said to Yeshayahu HaNavi to pass on to us for the entire Exile:

Malbim defines those categories in the following way:

1) Humble Ones/Anavim

Malbim goes on to explain these humble ones only need to see Hashem has anointed the person for spiritual leadership, that this is the person who brings the tidings of yeshua (salvation).

For them, it's all straight-forward because they remained secure in their faith & expected these tidings all along.

At the same time, Hashem understands those who are barely holding on.

​He has special plans for them too:

2) The Broken-Hearted/Nishbarei Lev

We must anticipate Mashiach every day.

That's one of Rambam's Principles.

So who are these broken-hearted who don't do that — yet still merit salvation & even extra attention?

In fact, according to Malbim, their brokenness seems defined by their inability to hope any longer.

It's not that they don't know or don't care.

​They DO care.

But they've just suffered so much, they simply broke down.

Not only are they broken & despondent, they're disoriented — discombobulated by their problems.

In other words, these people feel utterly swamped by their suffering & confusion.

When the Mashiach comes to announce the Geula/Redemption, the anavim will be like, "Oh, fantastic! Baruch Hashem! I've been expecting this!"

But the broken-hearted are going need to some prepping.

​They'll need to be propped up.

It sounds like they initially won't believe it's here.

They're going to need chizuk/encouragement first. Hashem has a special plan laid out for them.

​First, they'll need their hope returned to them. They'll need to be shown they shouldn't despair, that there is still hope.

And THEN, they'll be able to receive the tidings of Salvation — it's finally here.

I think this speaks to a lot of people who have been trying & trying, but feel like they're unable to hang on any longer, like it's too much to keep their head above water.

Or they feel like they're failing no matter how hard they try.

They struggle to hold on & barely know what they're doing or even what they should be doing anymore.

In fact, I hear this a lot: People can barely figure out what they SHOULD be doing.

Everything is so confusing with such conflicting messages.

Situations develop with no clear solution or straight-forward way to handle them.

Even asking experts for advice sometimes leads to a dead end...or makes things worse.

​Or the experts simply do not know; it's beyond them too.

The world has been turned upside-down.

But the above verse indicates that even if you feel that way, even if you're giving up, Hashem is not giving up on you.

He understands you & even formulated a special plan to heal people like you.