It is a harsh winter on the home front, and these are bitter days from the lead on the front. Every morning and evening brings a cursed news: more and more faces smile momentarily, from the news of the day to eternity. And below the picture is a first name, last name, age and rank.
Beit Shemesh residents accompany the Kasia family as the funeral procession leaves for their son, Staff Sgt. Birhanu Kasia z"l // Beit Shemesh Municipality Spokesperson's Office
The location of the battle where he fell, the name of the settlement from which he came, and to which he will (almost) return, to eternal rest. And every name and smile is a blow to the chest. The heartbreaking that refuses to believe that this vital life is gone. And in the throat rises the suffocation of the smoke of tears, the soul is covered in the darkness of the hour.
And whether the name is familiar, or just almost, then the life that was fully known. Here is the big trip like ours, and here is the photo in the same place where we were last year, and here are all the small details that are so common to us and connect us to the people - the group, the band, the music of life, the landscapes, and the shirt from the end of the route with the funny caption, each shirt and one more hope that lay down.
All deeds drown in the shadow of those who are not. The funeral of Elisef Shoshan, photo: Oren Ben Hakon
And even if the name is not familiar to us at all, everyone knows that there is no way to escape the statistics forever. And inside, the knowledge is already spreading that in a short time, the parallel lines will meet in the circle of life. That unknown name until now, will be the son of, the brother of, the friend of, the beloved of, of each and every one of us.
And the feeling heart cannot forget the faces and names of the fallen throughout the hours. And the days are gray and blue from the blood of thoughts. And all actions drown in the shadow of those who are not, and every experience carries with it the sorrow of the memory of those who paid with their lives so that we could engage in our small pursuits. That we can live our lives with the knowledge that somewhere, to somebody and to someone and to anyone now, their world has been destroyed. And the air is already filled with clichés, about participating in the grief of the families, as if it is possible to participate in the private grief. As if there were some private consolation in the plight of the many.
Pawing a Way to the Future
But it must be remembered that every cliché was born of a seed of truth, otherwise it would not be used again and again and again, until it was completely eroded.
Military funeral, photo: Oren Ben Hakon
It is precisely for this reason that we must make our way into the future, examining the values that shaped us at the beginning, before the truth became a cliché. It is worth examining Alterman's silver platter and Haim Guri's Song of Evil, two songs that have shaped the Israeli spirit for almost eight decades. Both songs were written just before, and after, the establishment of the state. In 1947 and 1948. And they have long since become iron sheep assets, and have been parodied and clichéd. But they are also a constant reminder that the Israeli discourse on the cost of living in the blows of bereavement was and remains an internal Israeli discourse. And not because of our unwillingness. We extended our hand in peace many times, usually sitting empty or reddened. For beyond all the tactical, strategic, and studio analyses, at the end of the day we must remember that we are confronted with the conclusive and beheading fact that our present enemies refuse to recognize our right to live here in any way and in any form. Therefore, it is necessary to reiterate, and it is important to tie the cause and the cause: the current war is a war of no choice over full-fledged. Full of pain, full of sorrow, full of bereavement.
In each and every generation, the heart must see itself as part of the evils of the silver and blood platter of its homeland
This is an all-out war against the essence of Israeliness, and therefore we choose to sanctify the value of our Israeli life here and now. And the satanic deal is that even today, seventy-five years after the establishment of the state, the price of our lives here is young people who dedicate their deaths to the common life.
It's terrible, it's searing, it's painful, and it's a heavy and impossible burden, but that's why we carry this burden in the same stubborn and silent gray form, infinitely painful and without a shred of comfort, because in each and every generation – and in our own generation as well – the heart must see itself as part of the evils of the silver and blood platter of its home, its country and its homeland.
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