Chapter in Europe’s Cultural Complexes 2nd ed. Edited by T. Singer & J. Rasche
In this chapter, I want to speak of an Israel very different from the one portrayed on TV, newspapers or social media focusing on war, conflict or kidnappings. Israel is a land of polarities and contradictions. It is the realization of a 2000 year old dream for the people of the Book; it is the nakba for Palestinians. It is the land of oppression and terror, yet it is the only democracy in the entire Middle East. Feeling about Israel tends to bring out ‘recollectivization’ of ‘group identity into an “us versus them – for us or against us” style of thinking. There is no other small country that attracts such intense projections of love and hate.
Nevertheless, it is difficult to make generalizations about Israel because there are so many different cultures and religions, living side by side. There are very traditional villages of Circassians, whose origins are in Caucasus; Samaritans, who have lived here long before the time of Jesus; Druze, a unique people and religion which broke away from Islam in 12th century who believe in reincarnation. There are Bedouins who were traditional nomads whose tradition goes back tens of thousands of years; there are Christian and Muslim Arabs Palestinians, some of whom live alongside Jews in “mixed towns” like Jaffa, Ramle, or Lod, the burial place of St. George. The Jewish population is itself highly diversified. There are ultraorthodox Jews, who are themselves divided into hundreds of sects, or “courts” who follow a very restrictive life style, where internet or even TV are strictly forbidden. There are Ashkenazi Jews, whose roots are in Eastern Europe, and there are Sephardic Jews, descendants of those expelled from Spain in 1492, many of whom went to North Africa, the Balkans, or the Ottoman Empire. But there are also other Jews with unique traditions, such as Jews from Yemen, or Italy, Ethiopia or Argentina, India or Lithuania. The country is deeply divided in their opinions about how to deal with the Occupied Territories in the West Bank. A strong group of nationalist Israeli Jews claim it as ancestral patrimony, seeing Palestinians there as second class citizens at best. Many leftist-peace oriented groups oppose the occupation bitterly and are involved in activities to assist Palestinians guarding their human rights or in joint therapeutic endeavours etc. The army plays a central role in Israeli life. The Israel Defense Force, as it is called in Hebrew, is more like a militia, in that everyone begins as a private in basic training and must work their way up by initiative and ability. It serves as a rite of passage for young men and women, who take up high levels of responsibility from a young age. Reserve military duty goes on into a person’s forties. It serves as a launching pad into politics, as most Israeli leaders were commandoes if not generals. The army is also a unifying force for those who serve, which besides Jews includes Druze, Bedouin, Circassian, Christian Arabs etc. There is great resentment against the ultraorthodox who do not serve but instead receive a stipend to study Talmud. Another tension is between those from richer, urban Centers and those from the poorer “development towns” in the periphery.
Living in the center of such dreadful tensions and war, one would expect Israelis to feel disheartened or depressed. However, according to 2023 Global Happiness Index, Israel is rated fourth in the world for overall happiness, ahead of Sweden and Switzerland. It has one of the highest life spans in the world and the lowest rates in Europe for ‘despair deaths’ from overdose, suicide or alcohol-related deaths. Israelis have a strong sense of belonging which combined with an open, honest and friendly attitude that seems to make a difference. Another unifying secret is Shabbat, the Jewish Sabbath, which begins Friday at sunset. Although orthodox, traditional and secular Jews observe the holy day differently, it is a time for family to gather, to eat a festival meal together with extended family. One observer has said, it is “thanksgiving every week”. Shabbat invites a different spirit and a different spirituality. To be in Jerusalem and see the sunset against the disappearing traffic is to enter into the Land of Shabbat. It can be understood as active imagination in which you feel that everything you ever had to do, is already done.
Culturally extravert Israelis often talk to strangers on a bus and may end up inviting them home for dinner. Another reason may be culture. There are more museums in Israel per capita than in any other country, including the world class Israel Museum with the Dead Sea Scrolls. Israel has more buildings designed in Bauhaus style than any other country in the world, including Germany. Its classical music, pop music and modern dance are also at the highest level. Contemporary Hebrew Literature, includes Nobel Prize Winner, Shai Agnon, and internationally renowned writers like, Amos Oz, David Grossman, or the poet Yehuda Amichai.
Certain Israeli cultural complexes contribute to this unreasonable happiness and its inevitable shadow. Cultural complexes are repetitive, historical experiences that have taken root in the unconscious and when activated, they take hold of the collective psyche of the group. function autonomously, organize group life, facilitate functioning of the individual within the group. They may give a sense of identity, belonging, and historical continuity. Just as individuals may be traumatized, so too, may groups.
Language as Culture
It may surprise English speakers that Hebrew has no word for mind or solitude, and uses the same words for like and love, or for home and house. On the other hand, there are Israeli Hebrew terms that have no equivalent in other languages. One example is dugri, which is usually translated as “straight-talk.” In the original Arabic, dugri means ‘straight’ as in “Go straight!” or “Speak the straight truth!” But in the Israeli cultural mode of speech, it means saying what you really think without consideration of the other person’s feelings. In a sense, it is the opposite of politeness, yet assumes that relationships are robust and can withstand conflict. Dugri implies that there is an enduring sense of equality so that one is allowed to speak directly. One commonly cited example concerns the situation when a boss of a Hi Tech company asks the new recruit how she is feeling in the new job. The new employee, instead of giving the expected polite response, might reply in the spirit of dugri, “Well, the computer is too slow and the food is lousy.” And they would not get fired! In many cultures, such straight-talk is considered impolite, even rude. I use dugri in doing supervision with international router groups. I would often teach the group the meaning of dugri and then might ask the struggling supervisee, “Please, dugri, what do you mean to say?” It allowed for a directness in the supervision experience, even in cultures that favor indirectness.
Anther central characteristic of contemporary Israel is Improvisation. There is a joke that is commonly told, “In Germany, everything goes by the book; but in Israel there is no book.” The meaning of this joke is that in countries like Germany, the culture and personality is oriented toward following rules. Not to follow the rules is to invite disorder and even chaos. In Israel, the attitude towards rules is much more flexible and even reflects the cultural complex of questioning of authority, which I discuss below. The positive aspects of such informality is that it allows Israelis to respond quickly and creatively to changing situations. This attitude has served Israel well in the Six Days War, the Yom Kippur War and other military operations which required creative flexibility. It may also be seen in niche areas like Hi Tech where the ability to improvise provides a strong advantage. The Israeli ‘Start Up Nation’ has helped to create an impressive list of innovations in technology including the cellphone, voice mail, WAZE, Firewall, Messenger, Pentium Chip, even elements of Windows were created with Israeli knowhow. This innovative, improvisational style has made it also a world leader in agricultural technology, the creation of fresh drinking water from a desalination process, the use of solar energy and the reuse of treated wastewater in agriculture. It is perhaps the only country that has more trees this century than last. It has the lowest place on earth, the Dead Sea and the lowest fresh water lake, the Sea of Galilee. The origins of improvisation are also old and new. The new reflects the conditions under which pioneers struggled under the rigid rules of the British Mandate. An oft heard phrase is, “Well, if we followed the rules, we would still be under British mandate.” One well known example of this spirit is the so called ‘Wall and Tower’ kibbutzim which were built overnight and therefore could not be torn down. Many leading kibbutzim were constructed literally overnight. As one may see, from the perspective of typology, Israel has an extraverted, intuitive orientation. Because of the intensity of Israeli life, the fast pace of shifting events , the collective seems to suffer from bi-polar extremes of emotions, with extreme highs and lows.
The ethos of improvisation is connected to a strong tradition of questioning, including questioning authority.
Another quick joke will set the tone:
Question: Why do Jews always answer a question with another question?
Answer: Why not?
This Jewish, sometimes irreverent, independence of thought may be contrasted with the catechism. Both Eastern and Western Christianity used fixed set of questions and answers to teach about dogma and faith. Jews, in contrast, are encouraged to inquire and explore intellectually. The tradition is that a good question is valued highly above the answer. The Talmud, still the central text of orthodox and ultraorthodox Judaism, is based largely on building up theory through the examination of examples, the opposite of traditional European philosophical traditions. A typical question might be: “What if the opposite is true?” Encouraging freedom of thought, inquiry and questioning makes Jews natural intellectuals. Symbolically, it was Einstein who was asked to be the first President of Israel.
Israelis suffer from another, more shadowy cultural complex, called the "freier” syndrome. The origin of the German/Yiddish sounding word is unclear. But to be a freier, is to feel shamefully taken advantage of. It is like being a “sucker”, only a hundred times worse. A “sucker” may be a gullible, naive, innocent, but the sucker bears no moral responsibility for being victimized. No one wants to be a sucker, but the moral responsibility lies only with the exploiter. Not so in the “freier” syndrome. A freier feels morally culpable for being taken advantage of.
The Freier syndrome, therefore, is based on the fear of being taken advantage of in a shameful way. In a defensive reaction, some Israelis, out of a paranoid fear of “being your feier,” may unconsciously victimize and take advantage of others. The fear that ‘I will be a feier’ blinds me to the fact that I am making the other person my "feier”. One can see the impact of the "feier” in the free spirited, dangerous way Israelis drive or, in rudeness, the negative side of dugri, “straight talk”. I believe the unconscious roots of the freier complex derive from the group trauma of the holocaust, which still permeates the Israeli psyche. One cultural hint is found in the fact that youth used to refer to a weak, vulnerable child as “sabon”, ‘a piece of soap’. A piece of soap references Auschwitz, where soap was made of human fats. The syndrome implies that if you let up your guard even for a minute, you may find yourself in the group trauma of the holocaust.
Another key metaphor to understand Israel is as Alte-Neuland, or Old-New Land, to use the title of Theodore Hertz’s prophetic book. The paradoxes of the old-new go far in explaining multiple and parallel realities in which Israelis live.
The dynamic between old and new is profoundly expressed in the archetypal rivalry between Tel Aviv, the first Jewish city and Jerusalem, the Holy City. Tel Aviv, founded on the sand dunes in 1909, is open, relaxed, secular, left wing, on the beach, by the sea. It is the gay and
hi-tech capital of the middle east, the “24 hour city that never closes” for over 4 million citizens. It is not only a place but a state of mind, the State of Tel Aviv.
The Old City of Jerusalem, with its massive, stonewalls, and magnificent, decorated gates is a physical mandala at the Center. The name, Jerusalem, itself means “peace” and is known as the place where heaven and earth meet. It includes the holiest places for Judaism, Christianity and Islam: the remnant of the 2nd Temple known as “The Wailing Wall”, the Church of the Holy Sepulcher containing the tomb of Christ, built and maintained by the Russian Orthodox Church and the El Aqsa or as it is called in Qu’ran, the “Farthest Mosque” and the Dome of the Rock whence Mohammed went on his night journey to heaven; all are within short walking distance of each other. It is place of pilgrimage even if many like Jung’s strange visitors at the beginning of the Septem Sermones said, "We have come back from Jerusalem where we found not what we sought'. (Memories, Dreams, Reflections, p. 190-1). Over generations Jerusalem has been a natural symbol for the Self; at its best holding together the opposites, pointing to something Higher. At Passover seder, Jews around the world, for two thousand years say, “Next year in Jerusalem”, even when they are living in Jerusalem. At its worst, it is gripped by violence committed in the name of a jealous God.
Jerusalem, over 3000 years old, is founded on tradition, with high walls, separate quarters (Armenian, Christian, Muslim, Jewish) and colonies (American, Greek, German), with a sanctity both in the imagination and in visible archeological sites showing its history layer by layer. It has Yad VaShem, the world renown Holocaust Museum and Memorial. The city been attacked 52 times, destroyed, rebuilt. It has the Knesset and Hebrew University. It has a unique architectural feature in that all buildings are cladded in white stone, which reflects in sunset and sunshine, giving a hidden archetypal unity to this city of many faiths. Older citizens claim you have to be in Jerusalem for 10 generations before you can claim to be a Jerusalemite. There are shadows, of course. East Jerusalem is a dwelling place of Palestinians who make up a quarter of the population and who can vote in municipal elections but are notoriously underserved and discriminated against. The fans of the local football team are known for their brutality and racism. There are acts of terror but almost no street violence.
Tel Aviv and Jerusalem are only 50 kilometers apart geographically, but lightyears from each other in sanctity, ideology and visions of looking forward versus looking back. There is also a unique Jerusalem Syndrome, where pilgrims or tourists, become seized by the holy spirit and enter a state of psychosis. I recall a Christian who was possessed by a Divine Voice and tried to circumcise himself in his hotel room. Another began speaking in tongues at the Wailing Wall. People from Tel Aviv will gladly agree that residents of Jerusalem are, by and large, “crazy”. Tour Guides are trained to identify the early phases of this geographical illness and seek help.
Jerusalem has another geographical versatility. It is as the Psalms say, ringed by hills so that every step up or down gives you a new sightline. In one moment, you can see over to Jordan; in another moment, into the sheer valley or wadi, where babies were sacrificed to Moloch and where Judas killed himself. Jerusalem is as heavy as Tel Aviv is light.
No one sings for the welfare of Tel Aviv, but believers worldwide pray for the peace of Jerusalem, whose very name means peace. Somehow, Israel holds these opposites together in a dynamic tension.
Naming traditions is another area of clash between the “old-new”. Traditionally, Jews name children for relatives. Ashkenazi Jews name for dead relatives exclusively, while Sephardi Jews may name children for both living and dead close kin, especially beloved grandparents. In “mixed” marriages, this itself can be the source of tension. Names of males can be feminized and given to a girl and vice versa. The key is that naming establishes ancestral continuity. However, in the case of serious or life-threatening illness, an additional name, such Chaim meaning ‘life’ or Alter, meaning the ‘old one’ would be added to their name. Here, the change of name is a way of changing the fate of the sick person, as if to confuse the Angel of Death. A child born after the death of their father, might be called Abba, meaning ‘father’, as in the case of illustrious poet, Abba Kovner. Zionist pioneers looking toward a heroic future rejected the values of the diaspora and with it traditional Jewish family names. New chosen family names were often short, connected with nature or the Bible. In 1950’s, Israeli diplomats were forced to change their names to Hebrew ones. Naming tradition practices are widely upheld by ultraorthodox, mainstream religious and traditional Israeli, while secular Israelis typically use short, new names taken from nature, that are gender neutral like, ‘Tal’ (dew) or peripheral Biblical Names, like Hagar or Omri, or even use made up, new names, Lior, meaning “my light”, chosen for their sound quality, rather than for the meaning. Traditionally, the worst fate is not to have someone named for you and for no one to recite the kadish prayer at your funeral, traditionally the obligation of the eldest son. The tension between name as embodying destiny and name as a label is played out across generations, within the same family.
Another important theme is in Israel is Unity. The theme of Unity and “oneness” is expressed in the central prayer of Judaism, “shma” which is said during daily prayers, Sabbath, Festival and by tradition in one’s final breath. It refers to Biblical Text, “Hear, O, Israel, the Lord, our God, the Lord is One!” (Deuteronomy 6:4). Theologically, it is the profound expression of monotheism, the belief in one God, but it is much more. It reflects a unity in the world that He created. Togetherness is a strong historical element in Hebrew civilizations which created a sense of unity between Jewish communities. A powerful Hebrew phrase (which loses much of its impact in translation) is, “Am Israel Hai”, “The People of Israel live!” This phrase of defiant existence is said in opposition to all efforts to destroy and exterminate the Hebrew nation. This central theme provides the background for many Jewish Festivals, from Passover, Purim, Chanuka, Tisha b’Av etc. Another expression of this cultural solidarity and mutual responsibility is, “All Israel are guarantors for one another” which was already well known in Talmudic times (Talmud, Sh’vuot 39a). It highlights how each Jews is responsible for each other. In a negative sense, the actions of one Jewish person, lead to punishment of the entire Jewish community, as in for blood libel. In its positive sense, it describes the deep kinship libido that individuals feel as members of the same Tribe.
Despite almost a year of intense political protest against the anti-democratic judicial reforms, the phrase most used by media since October 7, 2023 is “Together we will win.” After the Hamas attack of the “Black Shabbat”, the theme of unity is the main rallying cry of Israelis concerning the war. The phrase, “Together we will win” is displayed on buses, posters, buildings, telephone apps etc. The call for unity is all the more poignant and ironic because it was preceded by the largest and most intense protest movement in Israeli history against Prime Minister Netanyahu and his government to undermine democracy through judicial reform, undermining the autonomy of the Supreme Court and other anti-democratic measures. While the government and its agencies failed to respond to the shocking events of October 7, it was the protest movement itself which reacted by improvising immediate relief, social welfare and emotional support for the bereaved and displaced. Indeed, the entire Israeli therapeutic community, including Jungian Institutes, quickly mobilized to provide trauma related interventions to “internal refugees from the North Border (under missile attack from Lebanon) or communities in the area that had been invaded. Rapid response Volunteer teams of mental health professionals went out to treat individuals and groups in hotels at the Dead Sea, Eilat or the Mediterranean Coast. Psychologically, however, it seems to me writing in January 2024, that it is premature to reflect back on the atrocities of October 7 and their aftermath. As one of my patients put it, “How can I dream, when every day is a nightmare?!”
At the same time, even during the first weeks of the war, questions were being asked: Why were clear intelligence reports of Hamas training and intention ignored? Why was military help so long in coming? Why were there so many government failures in providing relief and assistance? The State Controller and Ombudsman have already published two damning reports about government failures. Another poignant experience of unity in modern Israel occurs during the collective moments of silence on Holocaust Memorial Day and then a week later, on Israel Memorial Day. Sirens go off, people stand in silence, even on the highway, next to their cars.
Friendship is another crucial aspect of wellbeing in Israel. in all its diverse communities. Friendship is seen as a deep personal, almost sacred, commitment that is at the center of social life. Expectations from friends are almost as high as for family. The security and belonging that goes with true friendship has a therapeutic quality. When a friend knows all about you, there is no reason to hide or present a persona. Rather, true friendship dissolves persona anxiety entirely. In a metaphoric sense, a true friend functions like the Self, seeing all of us, accepting all of us.
The security that a true friend provides is illustrated in the phrase, “It is not so much our friends' help that helps us as it is, as the confidence of their help.” This emotional security that friends provide is expressed poignantly in this phase: “It’s the friends you can call up at 4 a.m. that matter.” In Israel, I have had that 4am experience of friendship. It was the middle of the night and I urgently needed to borrow a car. With trepidation, I called upon a friend. I was worried he might say that he never loans his car, that he would have to check with his insurance, that he would need his car back at 7am, that he would agree but leave me terrified what would happen if it received a scratch or a dent. Instead, when he heard my predicament, he said, “I will be outside in two minutes” and without a word, gave me the keys with a smile. He said, “Good luck and bring it back when you can.” This experience taught me a lot about what it means to be a friend in Israel.
True Friendship has a timeless quality. It is timeless both in the moment of an actual meeting, but also when after a long break, true friends just effortlessly pick up where they left off. Friendship is, therefore, a never-ending conversation. Two other crucial aspects of the true friend are accompaniment and absence of hierarchy. Albert Camus gives a poetic expression of these qualities in his famous phrase: “Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.” Camus highlights how much friendship is a shared journey without “ahead” or “behind”, but walking side by side in the long journey toward becoming ourselves. Israelis believe in the words of their Mediterranean neighbor, Pythagoras of Samos, "Friends are as companions on a journey, who ought to aid each other to persevere in the road to a happier life." True Friends are not ‘yes men’ but speak dugri. They do not tell us what we want to hear, but rather speak with refreshing directness. Friends give clear, focused, critical feedback that does not trigger a defensive ego rection. They tell us what we need to hear, but what no one else will tell us. Oscar Wilde put it succinctly: “A friend stabs you in the front.”
In Israel, there are numerous times of passage where lifelong friendships grow and blossom. Friends are made in kindergarten, high school, youth movement, in the army, at university, or while trekking in South America, and some at least, become ‘friends for life’. Israel may have a big, global presence, but, in fact, it is a very small country and over half is arid land or desert. The actual populated area of the country is about half the size of New Jersey, or eastern quarter of Lake Michigan. The smallness of the country means that friends can easily stay in touch. While individual friendships are very important, no less important are tight circles of friends, or “chevre”. These chevre are very characteristic of Israeli society where mixed groups meet to talk late into the night, on shabbat or festivals or to go hiking together with their children. One of my chevre were classmates of my wife at University with whom I formed a warm, intimate bond. We would meet throughout the year, but on the second day of Hebrew New year, Rosh Hashana, we had a special ritual gathering. After a spectacular buffer banquet, each person would say something significant that happened to them during the past year. These were memorable, festive but also reflective, gatherings, in keeping with the spirit of the Hebrew New Year. Like most Israelis, I have more than one chevre. One is a group of Jungian analysts, where each year we choose a theme and then each of us presents something personal, clinical and theoretical on the topic. The “circle” has intimate space where sharing in individuation is highlighted. I have another chevre which is closer to the original cultural meaning of the word, deriving from ‘friend’, in the sense of ‘study partner’, the main format for learning in the yeshiva world. In this chevre, we have been studying texts together, every week, for well over forty years. We have studied many Jewish books, but also Gilgamesh, Dante and Ovid. Many of the six of us are also close personal friends, on intimate terms with each other’s wives and children. In the often turbulent Middle East, the group is an oasis of fellowship and inquiry.
The geography of Israel is noteworthy. It is the land bridge between three continents: Africa, Asia and Europe. Many millions of birds pass through it twice a year in one of the greatest migrations of all. Archeology has shown that early man passed from Africa to Europe and beyond and there are indeed unique caves where Neanderthals and Homo Sapiens lived at the same time. There are over 30 distinct ecosystems in Israel so that tiny Israel has more botanical variation than all of the UK.
It is also interesting to note changes in iconic self-images. From 1930’s through the sixties, the key Israeli myth and imagery was that of the sabra. The sabra, the tenacious, thorny prickly pear, provided a key image of the “new Israeli”, rough on the outside but sweet on the inside. In those times, Israelis were seen and saw themselves as having a prickly persona. The cactus fruit was compared to native born Israelis, who were considered tough on the outside but delicate and sweet, once one got to know them, on the inside. The term was implicitly contrasting the tough, stand your ground, ascetic style of native born Israelis, such as Kibbutzniks, to weak, vulnerable Diaspora Jew. Indeed, it was considered a compliment at that time, to be called “a real sabra”. Although the myth of the sabra played a key role in literature, arts and presentation of self, it has almost entirely disappeared as a cultural icon. Instead, it retains only a literal meaning of a ‘native born Israeli’.
Another unique element in Israeli life concerns attitudes to death, funerals and mourning customs, a topic in which I have a special interest. Significantly, Jews and Muslims share the same basic framework. In contrast to European societies, burial typically occurs within hours of the death, almost always the same day. Coffins are not used but the person is wrapped in burial garments with a winding sheet and carried to the graves. The only exception is Israeli military funerals, in which simple wood coffins are used, draped with a flag. But even in these cases, the bottom of the coffin has special holes so that the dead body will be in contact with the purifying earth of the Great Mother. All funeral expenses, including the cost of burial plots are covered by Israeli social security. Traditional Jewish funerals are carried out by “volunteers” in the Hevra Kadisha, or Holy Brotherhood. After a short graveside service, each one places a small stone on the grave. Flowers may also be left, but they are not traditionally used, as things that are wilting and dying, they signify impermanence, unlike the stone which is symbolically everlasting. Then mourners in the Jewish tradition pass between two lines of “comforters” and then proceed home to sit “shiva”. During these seven days, mourners, receive visits and food from friends and relatives in what has been called ‘group psychotherapy’. The tradition is not to speak until the mourner first speaks so that one may respond in dialogue. I believe it is likely that this tradition influenced Sigmund Freud, in the construction of the structure of psychoanalysis. At the end of the shiva, mourners return to the grave, and again at thirty days and at each yearly anniversary. Funerals of soldiers, or even those killed in tragic circumstances are regularly shown on television. Ernst Becker’s phrase The Denial of Death, so common in the West, is not characteristic of life in Israel.
Masada Complex
Perhaps the most dangerous cultural complex in Israel is “the Masada complex”. Today, Masada is a World Heritage Site, a flat top mountain in the Judean Desert overlooking the Dead Sea, where King Herod built his sumptuous winter palace that was uncovered in one of Israel’s most famous archeological excavations. To hike up the mountain in the dark, in order to see the goldening dawn at the top, is truly a numinous experience. But the psychological meaning of Masada in the Israeli Psyche does not reside in its beauty, but in its history. It is based on a famous description by Josephus, a Hebrew General turned Roman Historian. The crucial historical setting is the brutal suppression of the Great Revolt of the Jews against the Roman legions which began in 70 C.E. After a few short years of independence, the Jewish State was brutally and systematically crushed by the Roman legions. At the end, less than a thousand Jews held off an army of centurions, in the nearly impregnable fortress of Masada. Finally, they realized their position was without hope of victory or escape. Rather than become enslaved, these defenders decided to kill all men, women and babies, rather than fall into the hands of their enemy. (Josephus, War of the Jews, Book 7, Chapter 4, 389-406)
This “mass suicide” reflects the actions of desperate people who follow the motto of the American state of New Hampshire, “Live free or die!” This attitude proclaims that dignity, honor, freedom are more important than life itself. Sadly, these sentiments are not unknown in Jewish history when, during pogroms, Crusades, black death or blood libel, desperate Jews felt it preferable to murder their own beloveds rather than let them be tortured, raped and murdered by the mob. But the modern meaning of Masada is darker still. The modern version began to take form when the Nazi Armies threatened to conquer Egypt, Palestine and beyond. Local fighters proposed that they would find a Masada-like location from which they would fight to the death, killing as many of the enemies as possible. Although Israel does not admit it officially, it is an open secret that it does possess nuclear weapons. If Israel were invaded and the situation desperate, it might use these nuclear weapons as a final stand, killing ourselves but also as many of the enemies as possible. This Masada complex recalls a similar gesture by Samson in the Book of Judges. Golda Meir told President Biden, many decades ago, “Israel has a secret weapon. It has nowhere to go!” The Masada complex highlights an existential anxiety, or angst, expressed in the phrase, “When I go to sleep, I don’t know if I will wake up to find my country.” Such existential anxiety is perhaps unique to Israel and paradoxically, is also the source of so much of its vitality.
A Very Narrow Bridge
I want to end with another cultural icon, which is source of special courage. It comes from the words of one of the greatest Hasidic leaders, Rabbi Nachman of Bratzlav. The words, sung all together to a haunting melody are, “All the world is a very, narrow bridge, but the essence is not to fear at all.” This beloved song might be a motto for Israel itself.
Bibliographic Essay
For more on the sources of Israel’s resilience and happiness, see Dan Senor & Saul Singer, The Genius of Israel: The Surprising Resilience of a Divided Nation in a Turbulent World. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2023. Their previous book, Start Up Nation: The Story of Israel’s Economic Miracle. 2011 describes how Israel became a world center for new technology innovation. J.D. Ziff discusses ‘Shabbat as Therapy’ in Journal of Psychology and Judaism 7(2): 118-134. The definitive study of dugri is, Tamar Katriel, Talking Straight: Dugri speech in Israeli Sabra Culture. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. 1984. For a discussion of the freier complex, see Linda Bloch, ‘Who’s afraid of being a Freier?’ in Communication Theory 13(2): 25-59. For examples of improvisation in different aspects of Israeli life, see: Ira Sharkansky & Yair Zalmanovitch, ‘Improvisation in Public Administration and Policy Making in Israel’ Public Administration Review 60(4): 321-9. 2000; and ‘Israel: Where Improvisation Usually Finds a Way’, Hospital Practice, 7:11, 145-174. 1972. The most comprehensive study of the evolution of the sabra is Oz Almog, The Sabra: The Creation of the New Jew. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000. The renowned Biblical scholar and translator, Robert Alter discusses ‘The Masada Complex’ in Commentary Magazine July 1973, at commentary.orgIAAP News Bulletin no. 24, January 2024 includes many examples of how Jungian analysts responded therapeutically and creatively to help victims of to Oct 7, 2023 invasion and atrocities including joint Israeli-Palestinians projects. For more on Jewish funerals and mourning, see my, ‘The Jerusalem Funeral As a Microcosm of the “Mismeeting” between Religious and Secular Israelis.’ Tradition, Innovation, Conflict: Judiasm and Jewishness in Contemporary Israel. (Eds. Z. Sobol & B. Beit-Hallachmi). Albany, New York: SUNY. 1991; “Good Death” and “Bad Death”: Therapeutic Implications of Cultural Conceptions of Death and Bereavement. Traumatic and Nontraumatic Loss and Bereavement. (Eds. R. Malkinson, S. S. Rubin & E. Witztum). Madison, CT.: Psychosocial Press. Chapter 10. pp. 255-72. 2000. For further discussion of the “Palestinian question” in Israel, see,
Joseph Massad, ‘The Persistence of the Palestinian Question.’ Cultural Critique 59: 1-23. Winter 2005; and the recent video panel: The Palestinian Question as a Jewish Question, held at Harvard Divinity School on March 23, 2023, https://rpl.hds.harvard.edu/news/video-palestinian-question-jewish-question