ISRAEL AS A BATTERED WOMAN: PART II
Dr. Miriam Adahan
Dear L-rd, I wrote to you 15 years ago, at the beginning of the Peace Process. Even though You said not to negotiate with enemies, Shimon Peres and Yossi Beilin told me not to listen to You. They said that You were old-fashioned and out of tune with the modern world. They promised me that I would be written about in history books as the world's most celebrated peace politician. When they showed me the Oslo Accords that they had formulated, it seemed so logical and hopeful. I was full of optimism and youthful vigor. And I turned my back on You.
I know it was stupid, but I fell for the pomp and ceremony, the red carpets, the opulent hotels, the first class seats and the massage rooms. They drugged me with HOPE DOPE. It's the most powerful drug known to man! No matter how many times I got my head bashed against the wall, I kept telling my children it was worth it because we would win the love and respect of the entire Arab world. I even taught them to repeat a motto I made up whenever we got beaten: TIJER: trivialize, ignore, justify, excuse and rationalize.
It seemed like so cute, kind of like TIGER, except I'd be a TIJER! Every time there was a bus bombing, a katusha rocket or a missile, I forced them say "TIJER" – immediately and automatically. Then it didn't seem to hurt so much.
In my cutesy TIJER mode, I gave away the entire Sinai, with billions of dollars in oil, for a 3-night tryst at Sharm El Sheik. I still get goose bumps when I think of those glorious 3 nights. Yasser hugged me and Bill, too, was all over me, promising me even greater pleasures if I'd just forget the wars and the threats. True, I could have been independently wealthy if I'd kept the land. They signed contracts, promising that if I gave them all my money, then they would take care of me. They sounded so sincere. I know it sounds silly, giving away all that land for a piece of paper, but at the time, the promise of love was so real, so close that all those nightmare attacks just flew out of my brain. I had no memory. Real estate seemed trivial in comparison to the dream of having these rich, powerful men take care of me. Isn't that every woman's dream? Isn't that what we're supposed to do? Be submissive. Give in. Forgive. Forget….. Turn over a new leaf….Give them another chance????
How can You expect a person to have any integrity when they are under so much pressure? There was George the First, a big anti-Semite and Madeline Albright the bulldozer - and George Tenet with his threats and Martin Indyk and so many others. Then came George the Second and his black widow spider Condi Rice. Now there's a team that would frighten anyone! Oh, they smile brightly for the cameras and do the Peace Dance in public. But if I made even the slightest protest, I'd get the brass knuckle treatment afterwards.
I'm sorry, Boss. I didn't listen. I gave away Gush Katif for nothing…. I didn't even get the gambling casino that Dov Weisglass promised me. Gush Katif - Your inheritance. I gave my own child away! My little jewel – my most loyal child - no unemployment, no social welfare cases and huge revenues from all those wonderful crops…. I let them crush it to pieces. Why? I don't remember exactly which 3-day tryst that was due to. I was wined and dined and maybe a little drunk with the thought of how everyone was supposed to love and appreciate me.
Then there was Annapolis. Even though my peace partner, Mahmoud Abbas, who wants nothing more than to finish the Final Solution, made me walk through the servants' entrance at the back, I agreed. I was slightly miffed that he got the red carpet treatment, but they gave me some of that hope dope and I went numb; so it didn't feel so bad. I was so scared to be alone and rejected.
The trouble is, after 15 years of this, I'm more alone and rejected than ever. I've got chronic fatigue syndrome and must take psychiatric medication to deal with my anxiety and depression. And now Mahmoud claims that he is the abused one! This confuses me, because I think I should have the right to protect myself and my children. If he beats me up in the morning and I don't feel amorous at night, he tells me that I'm rebellious and abusive. When he blinded one of my children and tore the leg off another, he went complaining to Uncle Sam and the UN that it was justified because I didn't feel like forgiving him afterwards. I don't understand this. I thought the whole world would love me, but they look at me with disdain and horror.
I used to love my children, but now, when I see them battered and abused, I feel only apathy and indifference. I've turned into a stone. After 15 years of living on all these delusional peace dreams, I can't think any more. All those advisors, all those agreements, meetings, marathon talk sessions…. Talk…talk…talk. Even now, Condi Rice tells me to keep talking and keep signing agreements and keep taking the hope dope. I don't know what's real any more. They tell me it's good to hope, good to take him back. A good woman stands by her man, no matter what he does. These mass murderers seem so powerful and are so charming. Why don't I turn to You? Why don’t I listen to You? Why is it that I seek the love and protection of thugs? Why do I believe their promises time after time? I've heard people say that the only place where I can find real security and peace is by returning to You. One day, I hope I'll have the courage.
[My new survival guide for people in abusive relationships called FROM VICTIM TO VICTOR can be ordered for $15 from the ADAHAN FUND, 2700 W. Chase, Chicago, Il. 60645 or in Israel, 13/5 Uzrad, Jerusalem, 97277. All contributions and proceeds go to destitute individuals and PROJECT HOPE, which provides money for education so that they can gain self-respect. My dream is to have a healing center where people can receive the love and encouragement they never got. We have the land, in Gush Etzion. All we need is a donor! I can be reached at emett@netvision.net.ilor 972-2-5868201