Israel’s Topsy Turvy World

       This past summer, my wife and I travelled abroad. Our first stop was a small country mired in a war with neighboring countries. Bombings and shootings happen so frequently in the north and south that 94,000 people are still displaced, evacuated from their homes near the restive borders. Our state department had issued warnings about travel to this country, and many airlines cancelled flights. The tourist industry upon which the country depends is reporting a huge drop since the previous year. The volatility, the uncertainty, the lack of knowing what’s going to happen next is profound. According to researchers, 23% of adults in this polarized and besieged country suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and about 55% of adults suffer from clinical anxiety.  

     My wife and I then went to a country that Gallup’s recent World Happiness Report lists as the fifth-happiest nation on Earth, behind Finland, Denmark, Iceland, and Sweden. The US ranks twenty-third. In this particular country,  traumatic events spur an unprecedented wave of solidarity and mutual support. The sense of “togetherness” and shared destiny became palpable. People discover a mental fortitude and a sense of meaning that transcends individual struggles. This collective resilience is a crucial factor in this country’s happiness. People in this country remain determined to go about their ordinary lives. Even if there’s a war, it’s business as normal — the beaches, markets, and bars are still full. The presence of so many rifles and uniformed soldiers indicate definite low-level stress in the air, but people are still going about their lives.

     The countries I am describing are actually one and the same place. Since its inception, Israel has combined an outer toughness over an inner soft core, like the sabra plant which defines any Jew born in the land. Calm, pragmatic, hopeful seem to be the markers of the good people of Israel. They are used to the sword rattling of their enemies all around them and have strong faith in their military.

     I witnessed that personally on this trip and also back in 2001 when I went in the midst of the second Intifada. Then as now, Israelis were living on the precipice of a prolonged war with seemingly no end in sight. The situation was a breeding ground for helpless and hopeless feelings that can lead to profound depression.

     Yet despite all of this, I witnessed people getting along with their lives in a remarkable way. There is a level of tension and dislocation, but the basic flow of life continues. I saw a vigilance, but not a sense of paranoia; I saw anger, but not violent, vengeful rage as a way of seeking justice.

     In 2001, I used the term “flow” coined by the psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi to explain how Israelis transform a hopeless situation into a new controllable flow activity. The Israeli key to infusing normality in life, I said,  is going with the flow and maintaining a sense of control over your life.

     But I now think that the flow that I described in 2001 does not completely describe the Israeli approach to coping with traumatic and chaotic situations. It does not account for the hopefulness, the sense of “togetherness” and shared destiny, the creativity and the ingenuity as well as the ability to embrace disorder as a necessary step in problem solving. They don’t call Israel “Start-Up Nation” for nothing. More and more foreign companies set up their research and development facilities here. Indeed, Israel’s main resource is its talent, with hard-working innovators all over the place. Israelis, it seems, can think of a solution to any problem; its very survival demanding new security, defense and intelligence measures.

Hope Springs Eternal

    One of the main factors contributing to happiness in Israel is that Jews do not believe in fate. Jews believe in freedom: there is no “evil decree” that cannot be averted. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks has brilliantly noted that the word tragedy doesn’t exist in Hebrew, reflecting the Jewish resistance to a worldview that embraces despair. Instead, we believe in hope, which is also the title of Israel’s national anthem. There is a spirit of unity and mutual responsibility. The word for crisis in Hebrew, also means a childbirth chair. According to Rabbi Sacks, the Jewish reflex is to see difficult times as birth pangs. Something new is being born.

     The Greeks gave the world the concept of tragedy. Jews gave it the idea of hope. Judaism is a set of laws and narratives designed to create in people, families, and communities habits that defeat despair. Judaism is the voice of hope in the history of mankind.

It takes a Village to Raise a Child

     Another factor in Israel’s ability to persist is a sense of solidarity and connection that exists among all levels of society, especially when dealing with outside enemies. Being an Israeli is not something private and personal but rather something collective and historical. It meant being part of an extended family, many of whose members are not known, but with whom one nevertheless feels connected by bonds of kinship and responsibility.   

    According to the political historian Gil Troy, Israelis pursue happiness through family and community, by feeling rooted and having a sense of purpose. He adds: “Despite disagreeing passionately, Israelis live in an intimate society that runs on trust and generates hope. Israelis feel that they’re never alone, and that their relatives and friends will never abandon them.”

     Amid unspeakable suffering, Israelis have found comfort in one another and a higher calling. Too many Americans feel lonely and lost.

     While Americans might honor or respect their soldiers, the writer Forest Rain Marcia notes that Israelis love their soldiers passionately. Honor is something you do from far away. Love is up close and personal. To Israelis, according to Marcia, soldiers aren’t heroic figures for whom you throw parades and give medals. Soldiers are their boys, their girls, their family. You feed them, make sure they are warm and comfortable. You let them sleep on your shoulder if they fall asleep next to you on the bus. It doesn’t matter if you never saw them before and don’t know their name. It doesn’t matter if they come from a different background than you or have a personality you don’t like. The minute they put on the uniform, they belong to you and you belong to them. Each soldier could be anyone’s soldier so you do for someone else’s son or daughter exactly what you would hope someone would do for yours. No one calls them “Sir.” Rarely will anyone thank them for their service but everyone will love them.

Life is a Balagan, Old Chum

    The final crucial factor in Israel’s resilience and happiness, I believe, comes from a societal mindset best described by a word for chaos or fiasco borrowed from modern Hebrew (where it is a loan word from Russian). Balagan is a term commonly used in everyday Israeli life: from waiting in the supermarket line, to riding on a bus, to visiting a governmental office, to participating in a political protest, to Israeli children in a typical playground, to fighting a war. There is always balagan.

     “While this may seem chaotic to an outsider, in Israel, it is simply the way social interactions operate,” wrote Inbal Arieli, an Israeli businesswomen and author. “Balagan encourages adapting and adopting new and unforeseen parameters. It encourages both us and our children to continuously reconsider our deepest biases and assumptions regarding the ‘organization of things,’ and allows us to consider alternative possibilities.”

     As such, balagan is central to the Israeli way of life — disruptive, often rude — because it doesn’t follow conventions. It encourages kids to understand there’s no single way to do things. if you put the word ‘Yalla’ which is slang for ‘get a move on’ or ‘lets go,’ in front of ‘Balagan’ (Yalla Balagan) then you are basically saying ‘great, let’s go for it, it’ll be great fun.’

  In Israel, the thrill and excitement of living in such a dynamic environment significantly contribute to psychological well-being. Research shows that 55% of Israelis prefer an unconventional life filled with excitement over a tranquil one. This constant stimulation, whether positive or challenging, keeps life engaging and fulfilling and  is part of the Israeli identity, making the country’s citizens resilient and adaptable.

     Judaism is no comforting illusion that all is well in this dark world. It is instead the courage to celebrate in the midst of uncertainty. Accepting life as a balagan is a decision to live calmly and carefree in the face of chaos and impending problems

    Using the concept of balagan, Israelis have developed an attitude of “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.” Although this expression is often said jokingly, regarding small uncomfortable situations like going to the dentist or telling a child to do something they don’t like, Israeli’s experiences as individuals and as a nation have taught that terrible things will happen. Some people will die as a result but those who survive will be stronger because of it. Apparently, under certain circumstances, we are capable of achieving things we wouldn’t have been able to achieve without the stress and trauma. This is the mindset of post traumatic growth. This is beyond resilience. It involves far more than just returning to routine and functioning normally. It’s about genuine growth and positive change. It’s true on a national level, too. Throughout history, every attempt to destroy the Jewish people has not only failed, but it has caused us to grow stronger.

 Israel needs American Jews: Israel has long benefitted from the political and economic support of both the United States and American Jewry. Now when Israel  is vilified for everything it does, it needs American Jews to  lend aid and supplies. My daughter Suzie, I am proud to say, did just this when she volunteered to work as an anesthesiologist in Jerusalem and to bring medical equipment.

American Jews need Israel: In the U.S., there is unprecedented antisemitism and campus  riots. Are my wife and I happier after this trip? For sure, as we had a chance to show solidarity with the country and to meet friends and relatives. It was so heartening to us to see how Israel has seemingly patented its own brand of happiness despite the challenges and conflicts,  This happiness is not necessarily tied to the quality of life but rather to excitement, action, hopefulness, belonging, and strong community bonds. In a world increasingly plagued by loneliness and depression, a thriving, vibrant, resilient Israel is key to restoring pride and steadfastness in Jews like us in the diaspora.