One bizarre day it happened and a small group of people gathered in Prague, the capital of the Czech Republic, the birthplace of the legendary Golem from Prague, to demonstrate against Israel. The Golem, and its creator the Maharal, left the city hundreds of years ago, and were replaced by these demonstrators. But not always resilience. According to the local press, Czech Defense Minister Jana Chernochová roared in front of the demonstrators, her body draped in an Israeli flag, to show the entire world that the Czech Republic is not like the rest of Europe.
The Czechs, eccentric types, love Jews even though not a single Golem remains in their country. Talk to Czechs about Palestinians, and they'll start scratching their heads with boredom in 20 seconds at most. They are interested in Jews. The enlightened world around them does not stop showering moist kisses at every Palestinian who gallops towards him, but the Czechs are really not into it.
This thing, to be honest with you, causes me a lot of insomnia. How come they don't hate me? Why can't they, for God's sake, be as normal as the rest of the Europeans? What's screwed up in their heads?
The following evening, when the frost in Prague is at its peak, Jana's confidants whisper in my ear that her honor has flown to the Holy Land during Baal Tov week. Would I, they ask, be interested in joining her on her flight to Israel on a royal plane belonging to the Czech eccentric government?
, Photo: Izzy Tenenbom
The Israelis, it seems, are very pleased with the Jewish-loving Czechs, and as a token of gratitude, they invite Yana to the Holy Land, where the sun shines in full force, and the Israeli defense and foreign ministers will surely spoil her with authentic American delights – red shakshuka and black coffee.
Who am I to say no to warm and pleasant weather and Turkish coffee with a skilled Sarah?
I am asked to send a photocopy of my passport, and in the blink of an eye send them pictures of all my passports. So be it. The righteous are meticulous in the commandments.
But Satan, as usual, stands in my way, and after only a few days the confidants call me with bitter news: The Israeli government has cancelled the minister's visit to the Holy Land. Why? "Because we're not Americans, not British, not Germans, and we're not exactly important to Israelis," they tell me.
If I were a Czech, a Sahdi on high that at this very moment I would stand over the grave of the Golem, draped in the ancient flag of Palestine, in protest and cry out against the shakshuka bandits.
But these Czechs, eccentric as already mentioned, continue to love the Jews.
Why? Why? Why?
Frankly, my dear ones, I don't understand why this whole subject interests me at all. What about me and the Czechs? But being a person who is naturally in love with eccentrics, the Czechs are very, very interesting to me.
Lost in translation
To find a cure for my insomnia, I go to the Czech Senate for a brief conversation with the President of the Senate, Milos Wistracho. Perhaps he, a respectable man like himself, will be able to explain to me why the Czechs love the Jews.
It is the practice of the diplomatic and political world throughout the West that when a journalist comes to interview such an important figure as the president of the Senate, publicists and advisers, accompanied by at least three beautiful girls, greet him before he comes to see the light of the righteous.
Nothing here. I enter a large room, accompanied by some Schmendrick who claims to be an interpreter, and not even a cup of coffee reaches my mouth. To my right, I notice, stands a thin-fleshed man with a cup of coffee in his hand. He must be the waiter, I tell myself, and ask him, with all due respect to the waiter, to please make me a cup of coffee similar to his.
The schmendrik with me stares at me as if I were nothing but a great-grandson and grandson, son after son, to the idiot of idiots. How can I not recognize that the person I considered a waiter is nothing but the President of the Czech Senate himself?
"Nice to meet you, my friend the president."
Fortunately, after such a nice acquaintance, albeit a bit lame, I sit down next to him and try to start a small conversation.
"What caused the war between Israel and Hamas, and could it have been avoided?" I ask the coffee drinker.
The translator among us, whose name I don't know, translates my short question with many, many, many words. Does he add all sorts of things there? I have no idea, so I say to the president: The translation here is really, really, really accurate!
Documentation of attacks on senior Hamas air force figures | IDF Spokesperson
The sipping president takes in the little cynicism of your faithful servant and tells me that he actually understands English and that the translation is absolutely excellent, really. "I'm in control," he tells me.
"I am glad, Your Honor."
And even happier when a cup of coffee comes to me, so that I too can sip a little.
And as I sip my fine coffee, His Excellency continues to speak.
"First of all, I would like to tell you that I personally am not an expert on Middle East affairs." What he can say, he shares with me, is that Israel and Saudi Arabia were on track to improve their relations, which he believes is why Hamas invaded Israel and started a war on it, "in order to prevent normalization of relations between Israel and Saudi Arabia." He says it in refreshing Czech, and then he keeps talking. Of course, since I don't understand a single word of His words, all my eyes are fixed on His steady eyebrows and moving lips. Then he stops, and the Schmandrick translates. What did he say? Here, in fluent Hebrew translation: "Not that I really know if what I'm telling you is true, I have no idea at all, but that's what I understand from the world press."
However, he adds, he did not really foresee the events of October 7. Hamas's brutality, or as he calls it, "infinite evil," surprised him, he tells me.
Evil or not, hundreds of thousands of Hamas supporters are marching these days in various European capitals roaring, "Palestine will be liberated, from the river to the sea." And my question is: Why don't Czech students, who are Europeans just like the famous Palestinian singers, also march in their thousands and sing "Let Palestine be liberated, from the river to the sea"?
The president, who, like Moses, is very humble, tells me that he doesn't know if he is the right person to answer this question with the necessary scholarship, but he tries: The Czechs, he explains to me, are a small people that has always fought for its independence, just like the Jews, and therefore they support the Jews.
What does Rashi mean?
In my humble opinion, this explanation is flawed. Where do I come from? A few years ago, when I was walking around Ireland, the Irish told me that for this very reason they were crazy about the Palestinians and willing to sacrifice almost everything for any man called Muhammad.
But who am I to argue with the humble in front of me?
Instead of arguing, and taking a really big sip of refreshing Czech coffee, I ask him: "Even now, when Israel is fighting inside Gaza, do you support it and what it is doing there?"
"The way I see it, Israel has no other option left after what Hamas did to it. And as of now, I support the Israeli response. As long as Israel does not cross the red lines, as long as Israel does not behave like Hamas, I support it and wish it success in its war."
Not that he always supports Israel, by the way. The well-known "legal reform," which some called at the time a "regime revolution," which he did not support. Why not? "It doesn't seem right to me. Government intervention in the judicial system raises a red light for me."
"What do you think of Benjamin Netanyahu?"
It's a question he won't answer, under any circumstances, not even after I repeat it in all sorts of versions.
"Tell me," I try one last version: "Have you, as Senate President, ever found yourself dreaming that you wish you had a senator like Benjamin Netanyahu in your Senate?"
, Photo: SOPA Images
"To answer this question," the humble man replies, "would be irresponsible."
If Rashi were alive in our time, he would translate this answer into two words: Of course not. But Rashi, like the Golem from Prague, does not live in our time, and the president's answer remains as is, without interpretation.
Cancel culture
We continue to talk, for more than an hour, and during our meeting I stare at a cute toy sitting on his desk, a little lion. I, an avid lion lover like myself, play with the little lion. I press his feet from below and he jumps. Once right, once left, once forward, once backward. In other words, where there is an enemy, that's where he sets his head. Who is this lion? I ask the humble in man. This is a lion defending Israel from its enemies, the Jew-lover before me answers.
Every once in a while I fly to Israel, I tell him, and it would be nice if I had such a lion in my hands, in case some Sinwar, Yahya the hero from the bunker, tries to send me a missile or something similar. Can I take the jumping and protective lion with me?
My pleasure.
Milos gives me a penetrating look and tells me that since its early days as an independent state, when it was founded under the name Czechoslovakia, his country's leaders have been supporters of Israel – starting with its first president, Tomáš Masaryk, "who visited the territory under the British Mandate in 1927 and was always a strong supporter of the Jewish state, and we as a people supported the State of Israel from its inception."
These are the Czechs.
How could Israelis even dream of canceling a meeting with people who love them so much?
Could it be, suddenly lamenting the fear in my heart, that the confidants did not tell me the full truth? What will happen, I ask myself, if I ask for an official response to the affair of the flying minister who did not fly?
Accompanied by the little lion protecting my shoulder blades, I head to the Czech Foreign Ministry and meet with Jiji Kozak. First Deputy Foreign Minister, and asked for an official response to the flight postponement.
"The agenda in Israel was different to the extent that it coincided with another commitment of Mrs. Chernokhova, and she decided to postpone her flight. When will this happen? Unknown."
In other words, the confidants were telling the truth, albeit in a less diplomatic way.
For those who love the haters
In the absence of Sara and Flag I go to a typical local restaurant and relish Czech Topinka. What is Topinka? Oil-filled fried bread, hard as a Jerusalem stone on the outside and soft as cotton wool inside, with three cloves of garlic next to it that are "scratched" on the bread. In short: a kind of afterlife.
At the table next to me sit three young girls, gifted and beautiful students – one from Australia, one from Hong Kong and one from Taiwan – studying journalism and biology at the University of Vienna. All of them, they tell me with a cool smile full of affection for humanity, completely identify with the Palestinians. From the river to the sea, they pray day and night, may Palestine be liberated. What river? They don't know that. What sea? They have no idea. If I really want to know, they're willing to Google it. They will do anything for me, that is, for Palestine. Why are they in favor of Palestine? Like this. Why not. The Australian, a future journalist, tells me that she knows Jews, but unfortunately not a single Palestinian. "Do you hate the Jews you know so much that you chose to be pro-Palestinian?" your faithful servant asks her. "No, no!"
"So why?"
"We have to catch the train to Vienna," says the one from Hong Kong, the future biologist, and the three of them jump off the table and disappear, like a snake has bitten.
As they flee, they forget a package wrapped in standard climate paper, not plastic, God forbid, on a chair next to which they sat. What's inside? Three unique herbal teas are caffeine-free. Not black tea, not green either. Vegetarian tea, what is best for the environment, from the river to the sea.
And here Molly has two Czechs, a guy and a girl. Both, human beings who don't care about this or that vegetarian tea, are 100% pro-Israel. Why? They can't explain. Still, I insist, why? "It's an inner feeling, I can't explain it," the girl says. "Something inside me tells me to be pro-Israel," the young man says. Not a river, not a sea, not Palestine, only Israel and only Jews. Like this.
And this is the fate of the Jews: the only one who loves them is a little lion, which they are not interested in. As far as they are concerned, the Czech man is nothing but a Golem, the real Golem from Prague. They love the big lions, the ones who hate them. Fortunately for them, next week there is supposed to be another demonstration against Israel in Prague, a small demonstration, and the Jews will have light and joy.
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