“Having run his numbers, this son of Zionist pioneers can’t help marveling at the success—or “miracle,” as he writes—of the Jewish national project.”Zionism’s goal,” he concludes, “was to transfer a people from one continent to another, to conquer a country and assemble a nation and build a state and revive a language and give hope to a hopeless people. And against all odds, Zionism succeeded. If a Vesuvius-like volcano were to erupt tonight and end our Pompeii, this is what it would petrify: a living people. People that have come from death and were surrounded by death but who nevertheless put up a spectacular spectacle of life.”
http://online.wsj.com/news/articles/SB10001424052702304527504579167770239619540?mod=WSJ_Opinion_LEFTTopOpinion
In the spring of 1897 a steamer carrying a delegation of 21 British Jews left Port Said, Egypt, for Jaffa—the last leg of its journey to the Holy Land. Leading the pack was Herbert Bentwich, an affluent London lawyer and Zionist leader and the great-grandfather of Ari Shavit, a columnist for the Haaretz newspaper and one of Israel’s most influential political commentators.
In “My Promised Land,” his first book in English, Mr. Shavit charts Israel’s history partly through the lives of his pioneering forebears: His grandfather, Herbert’s son, was a Cambridge-educated pedagogue who helped develop Israel’s education system, while his father was a chemist at the eye of Israel’s nuclear program. The result is roughly equal parts personal and family memoir, Israeli history, and prophecies for the land’s future. It is one of the most nuanced and challenging books written on Israel in years.
Each chapter of “My Promised Land” is a portrait of a time and place (Lydda, 1948; the Alon Shvut settlement, 1975; Gaza Beach, 1991). Mr. Shavit writes of the Bentwich delegation’s fateful journey, of its members touring their hoped-for homeland in white safari suits and cork hats. “Is this colonialism?” he asks. “If it looks like a duck and walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it probably is a duck.” Even so, he goes on, “these pilgrims do not represent Europe. On the contrary. They are Europe’s victims.”
Much of the book is told from the perspective of Mr. Shavit himself, from his childhood in the university town of Rehovot through his service as a paratrooper, his headlong jump into Israel’s peace movement and then his partial decampment from it.