Masada

I had long imagined that a peaceful, if hot and strenuous, hike up Masada with my family and then a lecture from Aloni about this heroic, if controversial, last stand of the Jews in the Roman period would be a highlight of our time in Israel. I was half right. As expected, Aloni’s lecture was remarkable—both in content and intensity. If Israel is Aloni’s classroom, Masada is the PhD program—as it represents to him, and to many Israelis, perhaps the defining moment of Jewish resolve that, together with the lessons of the holocaust, established that “Never Again” will Jews be confronted with a choice between enslavement or suicide or be unable to protect themselves. This was, and continues to be, the core raison d’etre of the State of Israel. Indeed, many Israeli soldiers are brought to the top of Masada, after long arduous hikes, for their swearing in to indoctrinate them into the critical importance of their mission.

First, however, we had to get to the top. The plan was to get up at 5:30 AM and make the 45 minute climb before it was too hot and just in time to meet my mom, Fern, Tina, Jessie, Rama and Aloni who were catching the first tram up. Aloni had told us repeatedly that walking is ridiculous—too hot and hard and that we should take the tram. However, we have walked our way through the Africa and South East Asia and we were not about to wimp out at Masada. Emma, on the other hand, was just not having it and before we had left the parking lot she started huffing, puffing and kvetching. So, the 45 minute walk turned into a one and a half hour torture session in which Emma dissolved into tears in a heap every 10 feet or so (see pictures) as though she herself had been walking through the desert for 40 years, rather than having spent the night in a nice air-conditioned hotel and spa. Good thing the young Jewish pioneers were not relying on Emma’s strength and fortitude as they built this county. Though, I hope that Emma would have risen to the challenge had the State of Israel been relying on her fortitude for its every existence. Fortunately, that hope will not need to be tested.

All was not lost as we still had Aloni’s lecture ahead of us and he did not disappoint. As with all of Israel, he knows the history in stunning detail—but for him, this place is personal and he shares it with a sense of purpose, and even a bit of dramatic flair. He took us to the various buildings where he described in great detail how the Jews lived there during the two year siege by the Romans, from the mundane aspects of everyday life such as eating and bathing, to the way they continued to study, learn and engage in their sacred ritual practices even as the Romans were a mere 1000 feet below preparing for their destruction. He described how his father led him, his sister and a couple of dozen fellow kibbutzniks to Masada when Aloni was a boy (maybe 6 years old) during the British mandate period when the entire area was still off limits to Jews. His description of the journey through the desert with donkeys carrying their belongings and camping at the top of Masada sounded almost biblical. At dawn, his father had them sit at the top of the mountain overlooking the sweeping view of the vast desert and the Dead Sea and remain completely silent. He told them to close their eyes, listen to the sounds and imagine what it would have been like to be the last free Jews in the land of Israel on the eve of their sure destruction by the Romans. He asked them to imagine what it meant for them to make the drastic decision to take their own lives rather than be killed or forced into slavery. While we had not walked for days through the desert (thankfully, as Emma would have been a camel snack) and were sitting comfortably in the shade having a snack, the intensity of the moment was not lost on us. One can spend years debating or wondering whether the suicide pack was the right decision—but no one can dispute the power of this story on the psyche of Israelis, past, present and future, who continue to live in a state of war and uncertainty and to Jews, generally.