Five Years and 1,940 Years We Must Never Forget

by

Anita Tucker

I’m standing on the roof of an old house in the Moslem quarter, looking at the Holy Temple Mount. There are a bunch of Arab teenagers playing soccer on the Temple Mount which serves today as the backyard of their school. I immediately recall the beautiful models and pictures that I saw in the Temple Institute that recreated the service to G-d in the Holy Temple-- the gold menorah, the work of the kohanim, and the breastplate of the high priest. Here, on this spot overlooking the Temple Mount, I begin to contemplate what I am supposed to be longing for.

The yearning and longing that I feel today is more for the home and protection that is symbolized by the Jerusalem with G-d's reign. It represents a protective kingdom that will include a society led by justice and compassion; a time when the people of Israel will again complement each other as pieces of a puzzle that make up a complete picture of a nation connected to a just and compassionate G-d.

All of those from Gush Katif share a yearning for home. It is not the yearning for my private home, but the yearning for that part of the land of Israel that we helped turn into a flourishing and blossoming paradise, and now lies in a pile of rubble. This sensation of strong yearning becomes more intense as each year passes. It is this type of yearning that I believe our scholars expected of us especially during these three weeks between the seventeenth of Tammuz and the Ninth of Av.

My personal yearning connects to a period of justice and compassion. Five years ago, a thirty year period of my life came to an end. My home, business, lifetime endeavors and those of my friends and relatives were demolished. Many of you took different sides based on your evaluation of international interest or Jewish interest, but then you were “PRed” into believing that there was a “solution for every settler,” as the original slogan for the Expulsion went. This line, officially adopted by the ministers in the Israeli government, was used solely for publicity and had little basis in reality because—and I say this with five years of retrospection—there was no solution. No job transfers or placements, no housing solutions save for the small “temporary” trailers (caravillot) made from thin sheetrock that have been housing us for five years already. The “solution” consisted of low financial compensation payments which significantly undervalued our land and homes, and revoking the rights of our children—second generation Gush Katif residents-- to any compensation on their homes. I look back and wonder how “solution” could’ve possibly been defined so as to explain our current reality.

There are many questions that may come to mind: what was so special about this region in the Gaza strip that grabbed so much of the media’s spotlight during the summer of 2005? What ever happened to the ten thousand people who lived there? How many Jews actually have incorporated this tragedy into their national memory? What is the connection between the loss of twenty-two communities and the loss of our Temple nearly two thousand years ago? I ask you, dear readers: Do you have any idea? Do you care?

At the official ceremony in 1977, Prime Minister Yitzchak Rabin z’’l declared that
Netzer Hazani, my hometown in Gush Katif, was an integral part of the state of Israel. In 1976, the first group of families stood on bare sand dunes and watched trucks pour the foundations of the first homes and greenhouses. Our town was the first part of Rabin’s “Five Fingers” plan, meant to create a Jewish presence from Ashkelon to the Sinai .We first encountered bare virgin sand dunes with no sign of life. The closest Arab mayors came with bread and salt to welcome us, as is the Muslim traditional gesture which expressed their hope that our presence would bring work opportunities for their poor underdeveloped populace.

The Mukhtar of Dir Al-Balah told us that the area was called “El Gerara”, which meant “the cursed land”. He explained that Abraham and Isaac were the last to live here and see the area blossom. Yet, our dedication and hard labor turned those “cursed” sand dunes into a blessed oasis; one that grew every sort of vegetable, flower and herb. We developed innovative agricultural technologies. Those who lived in the communities in Northern Gaza grew fish for the local market, while other farmers exported tropical fish.

Within a short time, both the Jewish and Arab populations grew. We built beautiful homes and flourished alongside our neighbors as we brought them commerce, work, electricity and water resources. When seeing the beautiful homes, state-of-the-art greenhouses, factories and schools, government officials and Jewish leaders would ask us, “When are we getting to Gush Katif?” In their minds, such a bustling, flourishing region was far from the region filled with the “extremist settlers”. They were shocked to discover that such a beautiful community, laden with palm trees and beautiful synagogues, home to ten thousand people, was Gush Katif. There we were-- thriving on a piece of land meant for the tribe of Judah. Didn’t they realize that their preconceived notions were creations of talented publicity firms that created a false image of us which became embedded in the minds and hearts of the average Israeli and American Jew?

When Prime Minister Sharon announced his “Disengagement Plan” back in 2003, life came to a halt. We focused on continuing our lives as normally as possible, but we essentially channeled all of our efforts to thwart a plan which was clearly immoral and unethical. The media teams that flooded the area knew that the terror would continue and intensify, and that the destruction of Gush Katif was motivated by some foreign incentive that no one was willing to discuss.

Great efforts were made behind the scenes to insure that a place was planned to resettle all of Gush Katif, but no one enforced the plans or saw them through. As the seventeenth of Tammuz 5765 closed in on us, the friendly, local policemen were replaced with black-clad, huge, tough-looking "yasamnikim” (SWAT teams) and border police who flooded the entire area. It quickly became apparent to us that there was no plan laid out for the day after. The soldiers who came to remove us had orders to put us on dark green army buses. None of us knew what or where our next steps would be.

What do we yearn for when we yearn for the Beit Hamikdash; for Jerusalem? I think many of us look toward a time when justice will prevail; when compassion and caring will be the norm. We, of Gush Katif yearn for this so very much. We have experienced so many injustices and lack of compassion; we truly seek justice for the widows, orphans, the disabled and the needy. We generously helped others throughout the entire country by giving away tons of produce each week to charity. However, in the past five years, we’ve been turned into those who require the help of others.

All that we have strived for these last five years is to regain what was taken from us; to live and work as constructive, contributing citizens once again. We hope that our amazing kids who withstood the most difficult periods of terror attacks, who went on to lead the struggle for their homes and then served in the most elite army units to protect their country, will now have the rights unfairly denied to them to make them eligible for some compensation for the injustice done onto them. These “youth”, now young parents themselves who were born in Gush Katif, grew up in Gush Katif, and wed in Gush Katif have no rights to continue living with their community

We have salvaged our spirit and values from the rubble, but it is not enough. Our government officials have not shown a striving for justice nor compassion, so we as brothers and Jews who do aspire for better times, must do all we can to bring this compassion into our reality, however way we see fit.

The expulsion of the Jews from Gush Katif and the five years that followed have left us with the opportunity to try to understand the yearning for a piece of Israel that was defiled and given to our sworn enemies. It is a yearning for the land of Israel in its fullest sense. We yearn with the people of Gush Katif, and have the opportunity to add justice and compassion in light of all the difficulties they have endured.

On the Ninth of Av 5770, when we say with great pain "Oy Lanu”, we should cry not only about what happened then, but about our yearning for a time when justice (tzedek) will prevail; where compassion beyond the letter of the law will be the accepted guideline for our lives.

What was done to the people of Gush Katif must never ever be done to anyone in our country again.

Anita Tucker is a world-renowned spokesperson on behalf of the Gush Katif refugees. She was a resident of Netzer Hazani for thirty years before being removed during the 2005 Disengagement. Today, she lives with her husband in Ein Tzurim and anxiously awaits building her permanent home in Yesodot. The expulsion took place during the week after Tisha B’Av in 5665. To learn about ways you can assist the 9,000 expelled Jews of Gush Katif and the Northern Shomron, please contact One Israel Fund at 516.239.9202 x12 or email projects@oneisraelfund.org.