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Israeli ‘King Lear’: Tragedy turned into laughter
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Israeli ‘King Lear’: Tragedy turned into laughter

smack in the middle of Shakespeare King LearThe sweet, naive son of the Earl of Gloucester hits rock bottom. Edgar has been badly deceived by his bastard half-brother; disinherited, disheveled, and desperately running from death. But it doesn’t crack.

“This deplorable change came from the best,” he says playfully, trying to cheer himself up. When things are really bad, “the worst turns into laughter.” From the bottom up, life can only get better.

Then he sees his father. Gloucester’s old eyes are gouged out; He was led away from his castle and thrown into a storm. It’s cruel balagan It brings with it an epiphany: Edgar is forced to accept that things do not always get better. “O gods! Who can say ‘I’m in the worst situation’? “I’m worse than before,” she wails, “it’s not the worst / As long as we can say, ‘This is the worst’.”

As long as people can breathe and see, things can get worse: We still have to die.

For what seems like an eternity now but is actually just over a year, we in Israel have been living with the feeling that things cannot get any worse. And then they do. terrible pain 7 October escalated with more deaths, more deaths, and even more deaths. And many people were injured. Our hostages are still imprisoned in hell in an unimaginable and heartbreaking way. We are in an endless cycle of grief, fear, and watching our dreams crumble.

FLOORING LT.-COL. TOMER GRINBERG, commander of the 13th Battalion of the Golani Brigade, resting on Mount Herzl, Jerusalem, December 13, 2023. (Source: FLASH90)

More funerals and more. More wailing, crying and breathtaking stories. More tunnels and decades-long plans to wipe us out from the center of the earth; More sirens sound and we run for shelter, lying on more cigarette butts and broken glass as missiles pass over our cars as we run errands. Now terror has hit our streets again and a new fear has entered among us.

We are tired and broken; We’re not entirely sure what will happen next.

Recently, as the annual overload of the High Holy Days rolled around again, I sat in shul on Yom Kippur and tried to connect with solemn incantations to our slow-to-anger, merciful God who sets up a tabernacle of peace over his people.

How comforting it must be to fully believe that the Almighty undoubtedly has a conspiracy. How rewarding to know that there was a divine reason why a generation of wonderful young people (positive, dedicated, good) were destroyed in war while fighting for our survival.

What a stress reliever to believe in a cosmic plan behind our incompetent, incompetent government; a reason for us Finance Minister mocked Moody’s; why our security minister is angering the country on every front; Why does our Minister of Transport go to jewelers and luxury hotels abroad, but twice cannot deliver his spare staff to his units?


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And wouldn’t it be great to know that there is logic behind an eternal leader looking out from screens, overseeing the chaos, while promising us citizens of Israel that together, with God’s help, we will win? We.

Netanyahu chose this particular point in history to reassure his haredi partners never to join the military. Wouldn’t it be nice to know God approves?

But temporarily disabling the Divine, this seems like a reasonable moment for us mortals to come up with a plan. Where do we go from here? Depressingly, though not literally, 2023, the year of the judicial reform, saw almost 50% of Israelis leave the country, with each month of 2024 seeing the numbers rising again. But most of us don’t dream of leaving; we just want a road map forward and upward.

Can our worst state turn into laughter?

With the death of the arch monster Yahya SinvarA forgotten sense of hope may be leaking out of our hearts again. Can this madness end soon, can our hostages return to their homes, can our evacuees fearlessly open the front doors in the North and South, and can our soldiers return to their lives? Are we about to breathe deeply again, rebuild and heal?

It’s hard to hope when every day brings more death and nothing seems certain anymore.

But maybe, just maybe, there will be a swing. Being a Jew in the seething diaspora these days isn’t all that fun either; I know someone who stopped singing the Australian anthem after what happened Down Under. Our children, who have happily assimilated into college campuses and workplaces around the world, are shocked to discover that they are not so loved anymore.

Our distant friends and families kept in touch throughout this unspeakable war; They say they keep us in their hearts. We are grateful for the virtual hug; It’s nice to feel loved.

So how’s this for the next day idea?

We will replant our vineyards and peppers on the borders of our small lands, and we will sing songs at festivals again. We are a nation reborn from the ashes; Phoenix has nothing on us. We will return to laughter with or without our brothers abroad; When they come to visit for their Birthright trips and bar/bat mitzvah extravaganzas, we will welcome them with joy and Mediterranean salads.

What if our diaspora sees this reversal of history as a good opportunity; What if some people re-examined the meat pots, looked carefully at the magnificent views of the rivers of Babylon and said: “Yes, we lived in a bubble of time where Jews were safe, rich and powerful and tolerated in many countries. But it seems that our villagers do not care much about us ripening under the olive trees. “Perhaps now, as Israel revives, we should consider joining the party.”

Wouldn’t that be a fun side effect of this terrible time?

chaos inside King Lear eventually it ends. Too many people die, both good and bad; The country is largely battered. But with morally decent new leadership in place, England will be fine.

We will do the same. We just have to endure and live to see it happen. We hope the day is near when we can make our worn-out miracle shine again; It still feels right to be part of the plan. 

The author teaches at Reichman University. [email protected]