prison under the accusation of “Zionist propaganda.” He was legendary for his generosity toward Egyptian soldiers dying of thirst in Sinai.
The day after the massacre of the athletes, all the Israelis in Germany put on the kippah in mourning, as did the Jewish athletes from the French, English, and American delegations. The shameful decision not to bring everything to a halt was morally bankrupt, and gave a green light for future massacres. The distribution of medals started again, gold and silver stained with blood. The Olympic celebration was dead, but the competition went on and on and on. Israeli rabbis came to drape the coffins with flags bearing the Star of David. In Frankfurt that night, about fifty Jewish graves were vandalized. None of the Arab delegations sent any condolences to Israel. Not one.
When the bodies arrived at the Lod Airport, there was no fanfare to greet them, only silence and a dignified sadness. Waiting for them was the great Moshe Dayan, with the look of a kibbutznik who had interrupted his work in order to weep for his children. There was also Yigal Allon, who had started fighting in the clandestine Jewish army at the age of thirteen. There wasn’t a single shop open in the entire country; the Jewish people were unified in suffering, just as they had been throughout their history. Tunisia offered to take the bodies of the terrorists—everyone wanted them. Libya won. Ambassadors from all the Arab countries were present at the burial in Tripoli. They were there to celebrate the “martyrs’ wedding.” The atmosphere in Israel was different. After reciting the Jewish Kaddish over the graves, the People of the Book went back to their homes. The next day was the beginning of the Jewish New Year, but there was no room for joy. That new year opened with all thoughts turned to the children of the eleven victims. Those children were, and are, the why of Israel.
Three Righteous Men
There is one image that explains Israel better than an abundance of words: it is the dance for disabled members of the army. During the grand opening ceremony for the celebration of independence, the disabled dance in their wheelchairs, led by young people who leap around them, take them by the hand, dart away and back again. There is joy, not sadness, on those faces that are at once so young and so mature. Their pain, their disabling, is part of Israel, a citadel-state that for more than half a century has tragically walked between life and death.
On Israeli television we saw a celebration of the return to life of three people in a bar on a pedestrian street in Jerusalem. In 2002, a suicide bomber had blown himself up there, killing eleven people. A girl who had been there, and had believed herself dead but then recovered, cajoled her friends into having a little party. Another victim had returned almost to normal after four years of therapy; he brought along his brother, who was hit in the head and could no longer talk or move normally, and who will never get better. The one young man didn’t let go of his disabled brother’s hand for a minute; he hugged his brother, made him eat and smile. The others in the group joined his efforts.
Disabled war heroes are often the protagonists of Israeli soap operas. Much attention goes into sports for the disabled; at the Special Olympics in Athens in 2004, Israeli competitors obtained first-place results. Among them were Keren Leibowitz, a swimmer whose legs were paralyzed in an accident while she served in the army, who won a gold medal and two silver. Yizhar Cohen, a forty-one-year-old blind swimmer, came home with three gold medals. Yitzhak Mamistalov, who has cerebral palsy and swims with only his right hand, earned two gold medals and one silver. Inbal Pezaro, eighteen years old and wheelchair-bound due to a malformation of his dorsal spine, won a silver and a bronze medal in swimming.
More than ten thousand people have been wounded by terrorism; Israel itself is a giant wound. During the darkest times of terrorism, the hospitals have become repositories of anguish and ravaged bodies. The victims arrive in shreds. Staff have been hired to help the relatives of the victims recognize what is left of their loved ones. Those who plant the bombs are aiming for total destruction. It is a war against the hearts, souls, and bodies of the Jewish nation. Nearly four in ten Israelis have survived attacks, lost family members, or had family or friends wounded. Civilian victims and survivors often come from disadvantaged families. The most vulnerable are deaf and blind people.
Immediately after an attack, while the ambulances are taking the injured away, they are classified as anush (serious), benonì (moderate), and kal (light). The classification includes psychological trauma. Pieces of metal are added to the explosive in the terrorist’s vest or backpack, and the blast sometimes completely severs limbs. Many children have had their faces burned or their hands rendered useless; some have had their sight ruined forever. There are trembling elderly people, totally dependent. There are people who go insane and don’t want to live anymore because they are haunted by the sound of the explosion, and they seclude themselves in their homes. Naturally, the focus has been mainly on the people killed in terror attacks, but more than eight times as many have been wounded. This is the true face of the war against the Jewish people: Jews scathed and scarred, living reminders of the horror of the bombings. They require years of costly and complicated physical and mental rehabilitation. Israeli doctors estimate that 40 percent of the injured will have permanent disabilities. In a small nation like Israel, the wounded produce a ripple effect through society.
Some Israelis are still hospitalized from injuries sustained in suicide attacks years ago; many more require repeated hospital visits and multiple operations. Many are unable to work. Thousands of families have been forced to alter their lives to care for a wounded family member. Eran Mizrahi was celebrating his sixteenth birthday at a restaurant in Jerusalem when a suicide bomber blew himself up. A nail went through Eran’s skull, leaving him paralyzed and in a catatonic state.
Dr. Michael L. Messing’s remarkable report “Radiology of Suicide Bombing Terrorism” permits us to understand how the perfect weapon of the Palestinian “martyr” has literally and figuratively destroyed thousands of lives. He gives the example of Sharone K., who went to Ben Yehuda Street to meet a friend, Sharone M., for his birthday celebration. They stood fifteen feet away from one of the suicide bombers and were knocked unconscious by the blast. Sharone K.’s entire body, from head to toe, was imbedded with metal fragments measuring from millimeters to centimeters. Sharone M. was similarly wounded, but with one critical exception: a nail penetrated his skull and lodged in his brain. “From the X-ray images I saw, I estimated that Sharone K. had approximately 300 individual fragments, including many still recognizable as nails,” Messing writes. “Several of the fragments penetrated his vital organs. He sustained a punctured colon, a collapsed lung and a lacerated liver and kidney. I could actually feel the nails under his skin where they had burrowed and lodged.”
Earlier generations of bombs were packed with small ball bearings; during the Second Intifada, terrorists used heavier, deadlier metal. From screws and nails, to scrap metal found at construction sites, to rat poison, the additives boost the devastating impact of each explosion. The poison works as a blood thinner, causing victims to bleed profusely and die quickly. Shock waves from the explosion, especially in enclosed places like buses or restaurants, reverberate violently through the human body, collapsing lungs, breaking small bones, and destroying internal organs. Nuts and ball bearings are packed into the explosive vests to inflict unbearable pain and suffering on Jewish bodies.
Victoria Ogurenko was severely wounded in the Dolphinarium bombing that claimed the lives of twenty-one teenagers, including two of her close friends. They were standing outside the nightclub in Tel Aviv when a suicide bomber detonated his deadly explosives. A bone jutted out of Victoria’s left arm. Her body was peppered with nails, screws, and ball bearings. A nail had pierced the bone near her heart. A screw penetrated a bone in her left leg, and ball bearings punctured the length of her left arm and leg.
Unlike people in a conventional war zone, the victims are often riding to work or eating a meal. Nahum Barnea, the premier Israeli newspaper columnist, gave this description of the scene of a suicide bombing. “Everything is fast, so businesslike, so well executed, that it seems for a moment that it was all a show prepared in advance. A few dozen yards away life went on supposedly as usual. People sat in cafes. Bought books. Sat in their offices. That is an optical