Reflecting
on the past two years representing the IDF in the West Bank, so many
thoughts run through my mind – lessons learned, ideas discovered,
emotions felt, and
experiences had. For the past two weeks, I have tried to sum it all up,
rather unsuccessfully. Overwhelmed with ideas, emotions and experiences,
it has been difficult for me to write a comprehensive summary of all
that I’ve seen, heard, felt, thought and learned.
Nonetheless, this is my attempt at doing so, so that I can share with
all of you – my friends, family, colleagues, and those who have joined
me digitally – my final reflections before I leave my position as
Spokesperson for the Judea and Samaria Division. (In
case you didn’t, I urge you read my post from last Friday.)
Whenever
I brief on the situation in the West Bank, I am consistently struck by
the complexities and intricacies of the IDF’s critical mission in the
area. While I have
spent the past two years explaining incidents that involve our troops,
this past Tuesday (Aug. 6, 2013), I found myself in the midst of a
security event that could have ended very badly.
I
was on a tour with LT Yehonatan, my successor, and we were driving from
Division HQ to the Shomron Brigade HQ. While driving along Route 60, we
passed through the
outskirts of the Palestinian village of Huwara. Huwara can hardly be
considered a friendly village, and the stretch of highway that meets the
village has been the site of explosive device attacks, shootings,
pipe-bombs, fire bombs (Molotov cocktails), burning
tires, and rock throwing. About three weeks ago, in the very same
location, IDF troops had caught the man responsible for the June 12th and June 25th shooting
incidents.
As
we were driving, I noticed a Palestinian male who appeared to be in his
mid-teens standing about 5 meters off the road. In the seconds that I
watched him, he drew
a grey pistol and aimed it at us.
Have you ever had a gun aimed at you? Because I hadn’t.
I
immediately jerked the car as we made eye contact. Startled, the young
man immediately disappeared into the alleyways. My heart was pounding
and thousands of thoughts
ran through my mind in the blink of an eye. Do I scramble out of the car
and give chase? Do I fire warning shots in the air in an attempt to
halt his escape? Do I drive into Huwara in an attempt to chase him down
quickly? But that wasn’t all. Was he 16 or was
he younger? Was it a gun or was it a toy? If it was a real gun, why
didn’t he fire when he had me in his sights (mind you, I had a clear
vision of the darkness inside the barrel)? If it was a toy gun and he
was playing – where were his friends? Then there were
the thoughts that brought me back to the many operational probes I sat
through. If I scrambled after him, would LT Yehonatan know what was
happening? How would he respond and what would he do? Do we leave the
car together, and give chase together? Do we drive
in, together, with the car? Do we split up, where I give chase and leave
him behind (on foot or in the car) as backup, cover, and a way to
direct the forces we called in? If I went after him (either on my own or
with LT Yehonatan, either with the car or on
foot) in what situation would I find myself once inside this hostile
village? And what kind of response does such a situation warrant? If I
responded with force in light of a perceived clear and present threat,
what could have been the consequences? If I opened
fire, what if I were wrong? If I held fire, what if I were wrong then?
What would happen down the line if I let the apparent suspect get away?
Many
questions in very little time, but two things were certain – I couldn’t
ignore the situation, so some action was required, and the dilemmas
facing soldiers in situations
like these are endless. When backup arrived, we looked for the suspect.
We came up empty handed and the day went on.
This
incident reinforced something that I always try to explain: the threat
is real. The lack of “successful” terror attacks from the West Bank in
recent years should
never be confused with a lack of motivation or desire on the part of
Hamas, Palestinian Islamic Jihad, or the dozens of other organizations
that work tirelessly in order to reestablish themselves in the region.
The relative calm and security stability that
exists in the West Bank today has by and large resulted from an ongoing
security effort headed by the IDF.
This
security effort has two main aspects – ongoing routine security
operations (which include the security fence, crossings, and riot
containment) and ongoing counterterrorism
operations (which include arrests and intelligence gathering and
analysis). By combining these two aspects, the IDF conducts a
comprehensive effort in the face of the many security threats and
challenges.
For
the past two years, all I have done, night and day was live, sleep, eat
and breathe the various dilemmas the IDF faces when conducting an
ongoing security effort
in this volatile region. While many have grown accustomed the current
situation, we mustn’t kid ourselves – the violent currents are strong
and they are just beneath the surface. The hard-won security stability
is the product of over a decade of effective counterterrorism
and routine security operations; and it can all vanish in an instant.
This
is why IDF commanders constantly assess and reassess the situation
while considering a plethora of factors – from terrorism and rioting,
through law and public
order, to issues of quality of life and economics. Our assessments
include evaluations of our own actions. On the one hand, we understand
the risk of doing “too little”, while on the other we understand that by
doing “too much”; we could possibly undermine
that same stability we aim to create and preserve.
The
consequences of a destabilized West Bank are dire – for Israelis, for
Palestinians, for the region, and perhaps the world. A destabilization
of the West Bank, an
area that engulfs the critical coastline that is home to 75% of Israelis
and produces 80% of our GDP, would have a direct impact on Israeli
security, threatening countless lives (think of the hundreds of bus
bombings and shootings we experienced just a few
years ago). It would also damage the Palestinians’ quality of life,
civil order, and economy. A return to the cycle of violence we knew in
the Second Intifada period would inevitably result in a tragic loss of
thousands of lives on both sides. Also, a destabilized
West Bank would no doubt affect the region beyond our borders, when
considering the situation in other Middle Eastern countries, therefore
becoming a concern of global proportions. Certainly when considering
Israel’s overall strategic security situation and
the wide-array of threats facing our small vulnerable country, both near
and far, one can understand why we must do everything in our power to
prevent a deterioration in the West Bank.
The
IDF is an organization that evolves through a process of implementing
lessons learned and employing a system of checks and balances. There are
many misconceptions
when it comes to the way we operate and the many considerations we make
when defining these operations. Our operations have evolved over the
years, and are often misperceived. Whether it be the issue of
checkpoints that for the most part no longer exist within
our operational concept, the importance and necessity of arrest
operations, or the principles through which we seek to contain violent
rioting – there is nothing simple about our operations and there is no
perfect answer to an imperfect security situation.
In
no way, shape or form should any of this be understood as a statement
with implications in either direction – it should be understood as
stressing the importance
of stability in the region and the work that goes into creating it,
regardless of what the future might bring. After all, in the Middle
East, there is no way of knowing what’s just around the corner – anyone
who claims to “know” what will be is only kidding
himself.
I,
like most people, do share the hopes for a brighter future – no matter
how that future is achieved. Also, I do consider myself an optimist. To
express that, I’d like
to borrow an anecdote from Israeli President Shimon Peres. When he was
once asked by a journalist whether he was an optimist or pessimist, he
replied with the following: “optimists and pessimists both die in the
end – the difference is how they live their lives.”
As
I have said, this is my last weekend on the job. On Sunday I pass it
over to LT Yehonatan, my good friend and long-time colleague. I wish him
much luck with what
is certain to be a challenging period – and I am certain he will perform
with excellence!
With
that, I’d like to say that it was an honor and a privilege to serve my
people and country in this capacity for the past two years – as
Spokesperson for the Judea
& Samaria Division. I thank you all for following along, and I look
forward to whatever lies ahead.
Shabbat Shalom and Eid Mubarak!
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