By Leah Garber
Peace is the beauty of life. It is sunshine. It is the smile of a child, the love of a mother, the joy of a father, the togetherness of a family. It is the advancement of man, the victory of a just cause, the triumph of truth.
– Menachem Begin
Forty-six years ago this week, the late Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin and the late Egyptian President Anwar Sadat signed the Camp David Accords at the White House, witnessed by President Jimmy Carter. These accords led to the 1979 Egypt–Israel peace treaty, a historic agreement and the first of its kind between Israel and the Arab state that happened to be our greatest enemy. For 30 years, Egypt had fought Israel mercilessly, hit us repeatedly, and threatened our very existence.
Growing up in the shadow of this constant threat, I saw Egypt as representing all the evil in the world, the essence of danger, and the cause of constant fear.
And then, through ongoing mediation carried out by Israel’s greatest and most important ally, two substantial, courageous leaders realized that their two nations would gain much by ending the ongoing animosity and entering a truce rather than continuing the conflict’s vicious cycle. Menachem Begin and Anwar Sadat were determined to better the lives of their fellow citizens—for generations to come.
It took a lot of courage to be the first among the Arab countries to reach out to the prime minister of Israel, to arrive in Jerusalem, and to declare: “No more war, no more bloodshed.” It required a type of leadership that is unmatched today for Sadat to look ahead, beyond the dark mountains of hatred and bitterness, to go against his opponents at home and abroad, and to secure the future of his people.
It required leadership that has long been absent from Israeli politics, a leader who took a risk, and invited the greatest of his enemies into his own home, welcoming him with warmth and inspiring him to do something to benefit both their people!
On the evening of Saturday November 19, 1978, the Egyptian president’s plane landed in Israel. A huge peace dove carried the hope and answered the prayers of generations.
The streets were empty, a holy silence was in the air, along with a sense of salvation and grace. I can still feel this notion, as if it just happened today. I wish it had. Looking back at that transcendent feeling, it was hard not to have the sense that everything is possible, as Theodor Herzl famously said: “If we will it, it is no dream.”
Fast forward to today’s reality.
Three-hundred-and forty-nine days into this war, we have never been further from a truce or closer to an all-out ground campaign in the north as we are today.
The threat of the Hezbollah terrorist organization is enormous and much greater than the threat of Hamas terrorists. For years, Hezbollah has been planning to carry out an attack similar but larger than the one Hamas delivered on October 7, but much greater. Such an attack, carried out by heavily equipped and viciously trained terrorists—nothing like the Gazan Nukhba terrorists—would have an existential threat on the land and people of Israel. It is hard to imagine the rivers of blood that would be shed if the architects of evil were to implement their diabolical plan.
The winds of war in the north are stormy, threatening. I write these words with one eye on my other screen to follow the news and, like all Israels, with great anxiety.
Just as Hamas terrorists had no reason to attack Israel, Hezbollah terrorist have no claim either. As a reminder, in August 2005, following Israel’s disengagement from the Gaza Strip, Jewish towns were evacuated, and Israeli forces withdrew from all areas of the Strip. Less than two years later, in June 2007, Hamas forces took control of the Strip, killing Palestinian Authority officers, in some cases throwing them from the roofs of tall buildings. Since then, Hamas has controlled the area.
A similar reality with no grounds for war is occurring on the northern border. In 2000, in a move coordinated with the United Nations, Israel withdrew from Lebanon toward the international border. Ever since, there has not been one Israeli soldier in Lebanon.
Since October 7, however, Hezbollah, in solidarity with Hamas in Gaza, has launched a military campaign against Israel. Hezbollah terrorists have ceaselessly fired thousands of missiles at civilian targets in Israel, destroying entire cities, paralyzing civilian life, and sparking huge forest fires.
Seventy-six years of endless war to ensure our existence, and we still haven’t gotten used to it. No one gets used to evil or injustice. It has never been easy to be Israeli. The feeling that we always have to defend ourselves, especially in the face of hostile public opinion, is exhausting, discouraging, and almost pointless. It doesn’t really matter what we do, it’s the fact we do, and it doesn’t matter that every other country in the world would have reacted more harshly than Israel ever does. What other countries may do to defend themselves is denied of Israel.
As far as Israel is concerned, our existence is questioned endlessly by so many. And so, to maintain my sanity, I have learned to filter out noise, ignore the hypocritical voices that speak in the name of false values, and hold tightly to the justice in our need to defend ourselves—for our lives and for our future.
When IDF St.-Sgt. Agam Naim enlisted into the army following years of volunteering as a medic for Magan David Adom, the Israeli version of the Red Cross, she never imagined that she would be remembered as the first female soldier killed in Gaza during combat—a title that Agam and her family would gladly surrender. She was killed on Monday night along with three other soldiers when the building they were staying in exploded. Agam had a charming, lively smile that held the promise of a life full of goodness and happiness.
Today, more than ever, I miss Menachem Begin, one of Israel’s most important, bold, and humble leaders. I even miss his partner on the path toward peace, Egyptian President Anwar Sadat. These two rivals put aside the swords of war and offered an olive branch in their place.
If only our neighbors would invest the same efforts they devote to the war against us to offering better lives to their own people in Gaza, and if only they had brave leaders—not on the battlefield but in the great, wide trails leading to peace. Perhaps then Agam’s beautiful smile and the smiles of the nearly 1,700 others killed since October 7 could realize the promise of peace to light up the world, shine in the night sky, and mark the path of hope. As Menachem Begin so wisely said: “Peace is the beauty of life…. It is the smile of a child, the love of a mother, the joy of a father, the togetherness of a family.”
Together, united, we will overcome.
Leah Garber is a senior vice president of JCC Association of North America and director of its Center for Israel Engagement in Jerusalem.
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