Short story: Tossing destiny

(Written for the Glen Eira Short story Award 2010)

A tender tear ran down the little girl’s cheek. Her angelic eyes staring deeply into his soul.

“Why did I have to die?” She asks naively, innocently, like a little girl asking her mother why the sky is blue, or the grass is green.

Lying in wait since midnight, the sniper breathed a sigh of relief and welcomed the first crack of dawn. A cloud of his warm breath effused like a silhouette against the pink sky and then disappeared into the heavens. Camouflaged with leaves, only the protrusion of a shiny, high-powered rifle betrayed his seemingly inconspicuous physique. Patience had been wearing thin over the arduous, solitary hours of silent nightfall and the sniper was eager to finish the job and disappear into the desert.

Gently centring the lens onto the window of a mud-brick house, the sniper brought himself to attention and focused every fibre of his body into a singular mantra-like awareness. A passing mosquito, the distant rustle of faraway apple orchards. Every tiny movement and every minute sound was detected in this impulsive state of absolute tension. Suddenly, his target appeared in the crosshairs through the lattices of his kitchen window in the mud-brick house. Having returned from morning prayers, the bearded figure clothed in desert attire served himself breakfast, completely unaware of his impending fate. Stealthily, the sniper retrieved a clear photograph of his target to ensure there would be no case of mistaken identity. There was indeed no doubt that the sought terrorist in the image was this bearded man eating his breakfast in the crosshairs of the rifle. Sufficiently pleased at the ease of identifying his objective, the sniper returned his gaze to the eyepiece, and wrapped his index figure around the enticing contour of the trigger.

Without warning, more figures suddenly appeared in the window. The entire family chanced up for breakfast at this untimely moment. But the sight of young children tugging at their mother, broke the sniper’s passive indifference to the impending execution, and transformed him into an active moral accomplice. No longer, in his mind, was he a neutral mercenary pulling the trigger at somebody else’s moral expense. The act of killing the father in full view of his children carried unforseen ramifications. With this sudden realization, the sniper jerked away from the eyepiece, as the first beads of sweat formed in his brow. He closed his eyes.

Her eternal stare burned him from within. The guilt was unbearable. Her lightly tanned face, her perfect smile. He didn’t know her name, but she accompanied him on every job, every mission, and every nightmare. He opened his eyes.

The dilemma erupted into a full-scale war in the sniper’s mind. The fundamentalist mass-murderer with no compunction would not have afforded him such hesitation had their roles been reversed. A powerhouse of terrorism erased from the earth. Countless lives saved. Planned suicide bombing aborted – all with the single thankless act of squeezing the trigger.

On the other hand, no child should witness the murder of their parent. The sight of their father’s lifeless body bleeding onto the kitchen floor would burn an indelible scar on their hearts, fuelling the seeds of revenge for generations to come.

The humanity and compassion pumped their way through the sniper’s veins, intensifying with each deafening heartbeat. Pulling the trigger was never a problem in other situations. No regrets. Yet this was somehow different. At all other times ethical concern seemed to evade him. Why did it bother him so much now?

He always fired the gun with the regret of stepping on an ant or killing a mosquito – perfect executions, a stream of pay-checks and no moral cost.

An uncanny feeling swept through his body – he wanted to wash his hands. For some reason, his inconvenient conscience parked itself in the driveway of duty and his fingers turned to stone. For all he cared the person in line with the barrel of the gun could be anybody, but the innocent children made him squirm.

Children, child, her. Her faced seemed blurry and out of focus. Her fixed gaze carried no expectation, just a melancholy aura. No regrets. Oh how he regretted that day. If only to turn back time. Not to shoot. To pack up, leave, come back the next day. He could imagine her cheerful, smiling – a lingering fantasy that consoled him as he wondered about her life-cut-short. Maybe learning how to read today, giggling around a skipping rope, dreaming about her life tomorrow. Their paths never crossing.

The opening rays of sunshine bounced back and forth between his face and the makeshift costume of leaves. With every minute that the sun rose higher in the pristine Mediterranean sky, the sniper’s chances of escape decreased. Facing capture in these areas meant certain death – together with a little memento of your beheading posted on Al Jazeera for the world to see. Staring at the terrorist’s family, the sniper developed an eerie myopia, clouding his vision and returning him to another place and time. He imagined his own children back home – the grief they would face at discovering their father flanked by masked mujahedeen on the six o’clock news. It sent a shudder down his spine.

Why is one life better than the next? Will there be one grieving family by day’s end, or none? Who decides who lives and who dies? There were no easy answers, but the sniper knew that the outcome rested in his stony fingers. In another world, his target could’ve been waiting in line with him at a university canteen. His heavy beard but a point of conversation in a multicultural society. His children, attending the same kindergarten and both their wives together organizing a community theatrette. Life, unfortunately had other plans. Destiny had engaged them to cross at this pivotal moment: The sniper contemplating his life in a pastoral orchard, the distant smells of the souq beckoning him to return here on his real visa. The bearded man, eating breakfast with his family, before sending teenagers like his own, to their deaths in suicide attacks. With their inescapable fates, they were wed in unholy matrimony, the 18mm bullets determining whether death do them part. An innate, primal desire to escape and return to his family strangled the sniper’s every decision, but his duty obligated a complete and thorough execution. Shutting his eyes, he asked for a decision.

Just the girl, staring back at him again, and a light sheet of salty water skipping in her eyes.

Looking back on it, it was like every other assassination. Another mundane job. The wear of routine – set up, lie in wait, finish it off, and get out ASAP. He never countered on that little girl running in front of his target. How he longed to know her name, to meet her on the street and plead for forgiveness. . .

Having the life sucked out of his grey eyes, the sniper had made a resolution. Either he would abandon his profession, pack up and disappear into the sprawl of orchards, leaving his target to die another day – or he would go above and beyond his duty, killing the terrorist together with his entire family. Both these options seemed most humane – if there was in fact any humanity in his line of work. Either way, those children would not suffer as orphans – their souls slowly incinerating with the obsession for revenge. But either way the sniper’s integrity was forfeit. Every future death his target authorizes would stain his conscience, every time he would close his eyes, his target’s children will join the little girl to forever haunt his dreams.

Fate had presented him with a decision he was incapable of making. As fiery daggers fell from the sweltering morning sky, the sniper arrived at his unbearable decision. Retrieving a coin from his back pocket, he had resolved to leave the day’s bloody business to chance. With heads, the bearded figure finishing his breakfast would continue his day, completely unaware of how close he came to death. With tails, he and his entire family would be liquidated.

The sniper tossed the coin into the air for what seemed to last an eternity. Fate and destiny had no power over chance, and the coin seemed to absolve the sniper of his impending ‘sin’. Like the petals of a rose gracefully descending toward the ground, the coin silently returned to the muddy Earth and disappeared amongst the symphony of leaves and shrubbery that conveniently concealed the sniper’s ambush position.

Shedding a brief tear, a camouflaged figure covered in bushes whispered a brief prayer of atonement. If only for the high powered rifle aimed at a mud-brick house in the distance, he would be invisible.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, and imagined the little girl with angelic eyes – now a young woman, smiling back at him

2010 Australian election guide (written before the election)

In Soviet Russia, an air conditioner is called a politician because it makes a lot noise, but it doesn’t work very well. Keeping a close eye on the Australian federal elections makes one squirm – because there is a tangible sense that the people running for the ballot are by and large politicians rather than leaders. (Politics: “Poli” a Latin word meaning “many”; and “tics” meaning “bloodsucking creatures”).

Catchphrases like “working families”, “the Australian people”, and “for our future” have become so redundant this election, that they no longer make an impact. So if the speeches won’t swing you, here, gratis, is a brief election guide of the contenders, and my bets for the winner. [written prior to the election]

Labor: So Keating dumped Hawke, and Julia dumped Kevin. As the tribulations of our intimate relationships, so too are the chronicles of the Labour party and the extended trade union family. The party has experienced 3 traumatic splits (1917, 1931 and 1955) which debilitated it and kept it out of office for many years. In a stunning victory, Kevin 07, toppled Johnny “go for growth” Howard, and since then he and his party have been spending like mad to get the economy squeaky clean. That is, until he was kindly ‘let go’ a couple of months ago. It turns out that the public wasn’t actually asking for insulation or school halls – just a solution to housing unaffordability, unsecure borders, and an economy over-reliant on the transient mining boom [thanks China!]. Under Ms. Gillard’s helm, the party is trying to do what the Liberals should’ve done with Costello – use a fresh face to win the election (and scream “work choices” loud enough so that everyone can hear). Whilst Australia under the Labour Government has successfully weathered the global financial crisis, the question must be asked: Is it sustainable to throw billions of dollars at your problems to wish them away? Maybe, although the last time I tried I was grounded for weeks. My odds: $2.30

The Liberals: The underdog in this election, the Liberal party seeks to confuse everybody, because the only thing liberal (small ‘l’) about it, is Tony Abbot’s lycra bike short-shorts. Often termed as “fiscally responsible”, “economically conservative”, “financially sound”, or any other two word variant comprised of the aforementioned synonyms, this party has the policies and the know-how – just not the leader. From popular sentiment, Malcolm Turnbull and Julie Bishop form the ultimate political dream-team to lead our country into the nebulous future – perhaps the elephant in the room for the Liberal party. These guys tick all the boxes – internal democratic debate and dissent, strong foreign policy and a business minds – but it turns out that voters judge a book by it’s cover and vote for the person running the party, and not the party itself. Thus, there is a chance that the Liberals may languish in the opposition for another term, simply because Mr Abbot is portrayed rather negatively by the media. Let’s just say that his personality doesn’t particularly effervesce with charisma, emotion or politically correct opinions. It’ll be a close one, but Labour hasn’t particularly screwed up the country, and the Liberals are still waiting on that winning team. M

y odds: $2.50

The Greens: These guys appear green on the outside, but really exude a bloody socialist red buried deep within – contributing to the flight from rationality that plagues our society. And I’m not just talking about their illogical polices or complete lack of economic understanding – the main problem with this party is primarily ideological, as it goes with left-wing politics in general. For the record, most of the so-called “environmentally friendly” policies are simply attempts at furthering government control and impeding economic progress. The solution to global warming is not neo-luddism, apocalyptic scaremongering or carbon trading schemes – the solution is alternative energy – after all, you guys aren’t really ready to give up your tv, transport, refrigeration, computers [and yes facebook too], or pay more for them either. Without the green veneer, this party is simply a latent attempt at Trotskyism – and that means that every greeny is just as equal as the last one, comrade! Too bad they’re predicted to become our third major party, mostly thanks to the army of 30 something, latte-sipping bohemians on Flinders Lane. My odds: $4.30

Family First: Brother and Sisters of Australia, can you hear me? Can I get an ‘Mhmm’? A concoction of grassroots evangelical fundamentalism and a vague political attempt to legislate based on family values, this party may alienate everyone left of the centre right on the political spectrum. In fact, the only thing these guys are putting first is a copy of the St. James bible, a gun and an insistence that all debates be conversed through glosollalia. Jokes aside, this party advocates banning abortion, banning euthanasia, and banning everything on the internet that doesn’t conform to their narrow ‘moral standards’. The law of the political jungle states that if you ban too many popular things, then you’re basically banning any hope of making it to the lower house. Of course, you can always fall back on the pure, unadulterated love from your family, and die hard supporters in Midwestern United States. My odds: $6.70

It seems that this election, the important issues such as the war in Afghanistan, the failures of the Capitalist system, and our reliance on China are not discussed – not only because both sides of politics hold similar views on these matters, but more for fear that open, unregulated debate will expose the personal views of the debaters, and maybe a controversial headline on the front page of The Age. Ultimately, the Liberals are likely to regain a few seats, particularly because people are becoming disenfranchised by state labour parties. Labour though is in for a close victory, mostly because after preference deals with the Greens, they’ll have enough seats for a majority in parliament. There is also an acute possibility of hung parliament – and perhaps come this election, it may be better to leave it that way.

Can you be Zionist and pro-Palestinian at the same time?

Many in my social milieu, have been raised on a steady diet of Zionism and support for Israel. Mollycoddled within the cosy confines of the “Jewish ghetto”, our unequivocal support for our homeland is instilled from childhood and to a large extent unquestioned. However, as we become more exposed to the political realities of the Israeli-Arab conflict, our naïve kindergarten views buckle under the barrage of narratives and sound-bytes thrown at us from all directions.

It is in this context, that I wish to raise the painful but unavoidable facts on the ground:
Israel’s closest allies, including Australia (and many Jews & Israelis too) are pressuring the Israeli government into establishing a Palestinian state alongside it in the West Bank and Gaza (or as some prefer: biblical Yehuda, Shomron v’Aza). The reasons for such a move are numerous, and the pros and cons can be debated until tomorrow morning. Yet as time passes, and Palestinian statehood looks increasingly likely, we must ask the question:

“Can we be Zionist and pro a Palestinian state at the same time? :

In other words, are we still supportive of Israel if we support the establishment of an Arab state alongside it?

Many will argue that if Israel withdraws from the West Bank, it will be used as a launching pad to attack Tel Aviv. Conservative Jewish communities bewail the idea of giving up the biblical lands of the Tanach – the majestic hills of Shomron in which our forefathers modestly herded cattle, or the rolling deserts of Yehuda where King David mounted his attack upon the ancient Canaanites. The half a million Jews living in these areas question the viability of Jew-vs-Jew, Gush-Katif-style expulsions, or conversely, receiving Palestinian citizenship in a new Arab state.

Currently, the ratio of Jews to Arabs in the Land of Israel is roughly equal. Considering the higher Arab birth-rate, there is a strong possibility that Jews may become a minority in their own country. So when demographic realities are taken into account, the answer becomes simple: Either establish a Palestinian state at the expense of a physically smaller Israel – but ensure a Jewish majority (Two-state solution), or force Israel to decide between remaining “democratic” (give all Palestinians Israeli citizenship; i.e. one state solution) or exclusively “Jewish” (an apartheid state with no voting rights for Israel’s Arab citizens).

Indeed, the perpetual dilemma facing the Zionist movement since its inception over 100 years ago, has been the reconciliation between establishing a Jewish state in Israel, whilst seeking to uphold the democratic rights of the local Arab inhabitants. Initially, the issue had been ignored or glossed over with the popular Zionist maxim: “A land without a people, and a people without a land” – portraying Palestine as an uninhabited backwater of the Ottoman empire. But immigration and the Arab womb had other ideas.

Upon capturing the “Yehuda, Shomron v’Aza” in 1967, Israel was faced with an internal dilemma. To annex these territories and so provide their 2 million Arab inhabitants with Israeli citizenship, return them to Jordan, or establish another Arab state. Neither was done. Instead, Israel maintained a military presence in the territories (branded as ‘The Occupation’ by the media), and eventually built Jewish towns and cities on the newly conquered lands.

It is in these cities that today, nearly half a million Israeli Jews now call home. Many of us have visited and stayed in one of the numerous towns, communities and Yeshivot that now dot the landscape. Many of the secular, religious and unaffiliated Israelis call these communities home – communities that form a portion of Israel’s economic, political and social life. But what is more important – a homeland for the Jewish people, or holding on to pieces of land we captured in a defensive war?

Theodore Herzl - founder of political Zionism

In these regions live 3-5 million stateless Arabs. As heart wrenching as it may be, for the ultimate goal of preserving the State of Israel as Jewish and democratic, we must seek a two state solution (albeit with territorial adjustments along the ’67 borders). Anything less would be an affront to the Zionist movement and the Jewish pioneers who paid the ultimate sacrifice to establish Israel.

I say this, knowing that there are many who strongly disagree with the idea of giving back any land. Ultimately, even though the creation of the “State of Palestine” may not end the Israeli-Arab conflict (on the contrary, Iran’s toxic tentacles encroaching ever closer is a more probable outcome) – it will ensure Israel remains a Jewish-democratic state. Our people have always successfully faced external threats when united – and the left-right political divide is tearing Israel apart.

So yes, being Zionist and supporting Israel, in effect makes you in favour of a Palestinian state.
Because unless a Palestinian state is established, Israel will be forced to choose between surrendering it’s Jewish character or abandoning democracy – and that’s a choice that none of us want her to make.

Obama, Israel and where it all went wrong

Obama is a busy, busy, man. The world’s latest celebrity has become the most powerful man on the planet – and for those of you that enjoy regurgitating Hollywood inspired quotes, you may chuckle that “with great power, comes great responsibility”. Indeed, after inheriting a global financial crisis, failing US education and healthcare standards, drugs, crime, oil prices, world poverty, climate change, an un-kempt White house lawn, and oh, two unfinished wars, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict might be the last thing on Barak’s mind. Guess again.

With the clock ticking towards a nuclear Iran, Obama has been led to believe that finding a solution to the Israeli-Arab conflict, will ultimately lead to peace in the Middle East and an end to the War on Terror. The solution – undoubtedly conceived following hours of heckling at the recent White House pesach seder – is simple: Israel stops all “natural settlement growth” beyond the green line (i.e. West bank, i.e. Yehudah + Shomron), possibly even withdraws to ’67 borders, then Obama sprinkles a little of his magic pixie dust, and the Jews and Arabs will live happily ever after in the magical Holy land with Charlie the unicorn.

Unfortunately too many people have fallen into this same futile trap, full of preconceived notions, and “missed opportunities” regarding peace in the Middle East. Because the intricacies and inner-workings of the situation are so immense, many a decision-maker (and layman) has found himself focusing on a specific concern, whilst skirting the real issue. In this case, the issue isn’t Israeli settlements, the Gaza blockade or even Palestinian nationalism – if that were the case, this conflict would’ve sorted itself out long ago. The issue basically boils down to this: Arab/Palestinian refusal to recognize a Jewish state anywhere in the ME the size of a postage stamp.

Without even a learner’s-licence worth of experience at the presidency, Obama rushed headlong into the ill-fated “peace process” (it’s much, much more than a “process” – it’s like watching grass grow), promising much, but (as yet) doing little. For this, Israelis have greeted the president with ambivalence. Those on the right – angered that Obama has seemingly sided against the settlement enterprise, and those on the left – angry that Obama has not pulled through with his promises to enforce his agenda upon Israel. The Palestinians are equally wary, because after 60 years of having been entrusted to the care of the United Nations, the Arab League, the PLO, Hamas, the “global community” and now Obama, they get the gist that the new US foreign policy ain’t gonna the standard Tupperware party they were hoping for.

The problem that many leftist leaders and human-rights’ groups encounter when approaching the Israeli-Arab conflict, is that they assume they are dealing with two western societies that share the same values with them, when in fact most of the belligerents belong to the middle eastern society (read: Arab world), where despotic regimes, religious persecution and gender-based discrimination among other human rights violations are the norm. In 2005, Israel learned that appeasement doesn’t work the hard way – when she unilaterally withdrew from Gaza, only to be met with a barrage of Qassam fire. In order to make progress, Obama too, must realize that pressuring Israel (or for that matter, the Palestinians) to make one sided concessions will only make the situation worse, and that when dialogue fails, ‘the way of the sword’ is favoured over ‘the way of the peace process’ in that part of the world.

Israel will face tough times ahead. As the Jew among the nations, she will continue to face microscopic scrutiny from the media and the Western world for years to come. Israel will continue to be butt of all blame in the Arab world for an undefined period of time. And we as Jews in the Diaspora will face the incremental waves of antisemitism that accompany every Israeli government policy that is determined to be ‘undesirable’ by human rights groups and opinion editors. But hope is not lost for the peace process. Palestinian leadership is challenging the rising tide of extremism to become more moderate. Israel’s Likud party under Bibi, for the first time acknowledges a need for two states between the Jordan and Mediterranean, and interfaith meetings are building bridges between Jews and Muslims in the holy land.

Many people complain that the world holds Israel up to unattainable standards. In context this is a blessing. The Jewish state must aspire to reach those standards, that no other country would be capable of reaching.
That is the Zionist challenge of the 21st century.
Obama still has 7 years in office to broker peace in the holy land, and if he can achieve all of his aspirations against all odds, then “yes, we can” too.
It might just take a few Tupperware parties with Charlie the unicorn.

Why I began this blog

Why begin a blog? Why throw myself to the hungry masses of armchair generals and internet commentators? Why endure the afflictions of the Web 2.0 experience in a much more personal form?

I guess that I am intrigued by the idea of sharing my thoughts with the entire world. The sense of anonymity is enigmatic, empowering. Previous generations endured the messy pen and the diary – a keepsake stored away in the attic – only to be discovered years later, by close relatives, covered in dust and buckling under the process of deterioration and time. Everything written online is permanent and instantly available. Nothing is sacred. Everything can and will be read and criticized and scoffed at and loved and bookmarked. Like scattering the feathers of a pillow in the wind, each word becomes indelibly stained on the global network, never to be returned to it’s owner – a memento vicariously indulged by young and old, tech savvy and tech challenged alike.

Never before have we been so connected in history. The fact that you are reading this now from anywhere in the world is testament to that. By starting this blog, I throw myself into the sea of blogs, videos, memes, comments, forums and life that has characterized the evolution of the internet.

Do I lose my anonymity in the process? Possibly. But perhaps under the watchful gaze of the 24/7 media, identity cannot be concealed in any practical manner. It waits within, lurking for 15 minutes of fame, or a lifetime of notoriety. And so it is with me. A personal memento of my inner thoughts and observations transmitted through ethernet cables across inviolable borders to you, now. Perhaps we will never meet in real life. But as of now, the bonds of curiousity have been forged, and our paths meet – if only for a moment – before we throw ourselves back into the shapeless, faceless sea of the internet.