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The question "do you sleep well at night" is a sensitive one for a young parent like me.  But in these times, it is a question we all must ask.  When Senate Majority Leader Frist thinks it more worrisome that a government source revealed that the U.S. “disappears” people in secret foreign prisons than that those prisons exist at all; when the President, Vice President and almost 10% of the Senate believe the CIA should be exempt from the prohibition on torture, we all need to ask ourselves how we can sleep at night, and what we can do to fight against these outrages, in the hopes that all the world (if I really start to dream, then why not include babies and young parents) may some day sleep soundly through the night.  This week’s Haaretz presented us with two very different approaches to working in this world in order to sleep through the night: IDF Chief of Staff Dan Halutz and human rights lawyer Michael Sfard. 

First, my apologies for another extended absence.  Been working on a (too) long piece about whether "peace" activism in the American Jewish community is a "waste of time" or not, a post which I hope to put up this weekend.  And I’m also gearing up to take a new job in less than 2 weeks, so, sadly (for me anyway) this will be among my last posts (my new job is with the government, and may involve the Middle East at some point, so I can’t continue to post.)   

OK, enough about me.  On to Halutz and Sfard.  For his part in Haaretz, IDF Chief Halutz was announcing the official resumption of the targeted killing/assassination policy.  According to the article, “Halutz told the Knesset Foreign Affairs and Defense Committee that the policy has proven itself to be extremely effective in curbing terror activity.” 
 
This is an impossible assertion to prove with such clarity.  On one hand, of course terror activity is curbed if you kill individuals who either lead or are otherwise associated with terrorist groups.  Just like when the same argument is made about the Wall, it is true that terror activity will be curbed if people are behind a massive wall, guarded by soldiers and private security companies. 
 
On the other, what do the assassinations leave behind?  Is it more effective to kill people than detain them?  And if you can build a case against them, a la Marwan Barghouthi, is it more effective to kill them than try and imprison them?   If you choose to kill, rather than any other means at your disposal, what does it leave behind?  For either side?  
 

Lt. Gen. Halutz himself has shown us what the policy leaves behind for Israel and the IDF.  In 2002, when he was then Chief of Staff of the Israeli Sir Force, Halutz helped oversee the killing of one of the chief Hamas leaders in Gaza, Saleh Shehadeh.  This assassination was different than most others – a 1-ton bomb was dropped in the middle of the night on to the apartment building where Shehadeh lived with his family.  Shehadeh was indeed killed.  But so were 14 innocent people, including several children.  The essence of morality is how you deal with this choice. 

Halutz then gave an interview in Haaretz to defend the act, himself, his pilots and the entire policy.  It is among the most chilling interviews I have ever read, and should be a must-read for anyone who trumpets the old line that the IDF is “the most moral army in the world.” 

Here are a few excerpts.  The first, when asked what he had to say to his pilots:

"Guys, you can sleep well at night. I also sleep well, by the way. You aren’t the ones who choose the targets, and you were not the ones who chose the target in this particular case. You are not responsible for the contents of the target. Your execution was perfect. Superb. And I repeat again: There is no problem here that concerns you. You did exactly what you were instructed to do. You did not deviate from that by so much as a millimeter to the right or to the left. And anyone who has a problem with that is invited to see me."

An army, an air force where the soldiers need not consider for a moment anything other than the execution of the mission.  Where is the morality there?  Because the pilot who dropped the bomb in the middle of the night in a crowded neighborhood, he should not be responsible, or even consider what he has done for a moment?  Or longer?  

The interviewer then asked how the Shehadeh bombing had impacted the IAF.

So the IAF just took the event in its stride? A month later, and nothing remains of the event?

"An event like that make us want more than ever to continue being the professionals we were and to present things as they are, like we always do. The event did raise questions about the scope of the understanding that exists among various bodies in relation to the reality we live in."
 

The impact of the event is one of PR and “understanding”?  Of all the ways a leader can respond to this kind of action, is this one that should have been rewarded with a promotion to Chief of Staff of the IDF?

The final, and perhaps most infamous part of the interview, shows us the depth of the issues at stake:

A pilot drops a bomb. A bomb kills people - sometimes those he planned to kill, sometimes not. Isn’t it legitimate to ask a pilot what he feels after he releases the bomb? Can we expect him to ask himself that question, and is it in fact asked in the IAF?

"No. That is not a legitimate question and it is not asked. But if you nevertheless want to know what I feel when I release a bomb, I will tell you: I feel a light bump to the plane as a result of the bomb’s release. A second later it’s gone, and that’s all. That is what I feel."

What more needs to be said?  The death of innocent women and children is nothing more than a "light bump to the plane."  Morality implies consideration of consequences, implies an understanding and connection to both human emotion and rational necessity.  This statement shows us none of that, but only a callous disregard for human life, for morality.  It directly led to the refusal of more than 30 elite pilots to continue flying missions. 

But Halutz was still promoted. 

And that promotion was challenged in court.  By one of the emerging leaders of the human rights bar in Israel, Michael Sfard.  Although he lost that case, and many others, Sfard nevertheless brings the cases to challenge the IDF and the state because he believes it his responsibility to do so.  His responsibility to fight injustice and challenge the power behind the occupation.  His cases, for me, warm the chill in my heart that Halutz brings on. 

Last week, Sfard was interviewed in Haaretz – by the same reporter who conducted the above interview with Dan Halutz.  Again, some excerpts.  First, in responding to a question about subtleties and nuances in terminology, in legal cases, in morality, he says:

"That is true, but I choose to focus on what happened to us, within us. Morality obliges me to do that first. I am ashamed of my country and I feel a deep guilt at the manner in which it treats human beings. I’m very angry at it. The first intifada was child’s play compared to the present one from the point of view of Israel’s attitude toward human life and human dignity. All the barriers were breached this time. Together with the liquidation of wanted people, all the moral inhibitions were also liquidated. We lost them and we lost our sense of shame."

Then there is a fascinating exchange that should again be must reading for those who seek to rest the entire conflict, and the absolution of Israeli responsibility and morality, on Palestinian terrorism:

In other words, you understand the phenomenon of the suicide bombers and the terrorist attacks on Israel - you see the occupation as the background to their emergence and us as the only blameworthy party in this story?

"I do not justify terrorism. Palestinian terrorism, like any terrorism, is of course reprehensible. But the true threat that is latent in it is negligible. It never posed an existential threat to the State of Israel. Regretfully, terrorism all over the world has wonderful public relations. And as for your second question, yes, it is clear that we bear the major blame. I don’t understand - what do you want, for me to condemn terrorism? For us to deal in the self-evident?"

Maybe you could elaborate a little: what thoughts and feelings went through you in light of this terrorism?

"What, that I should say it is monstrous, that it is inhuman? That’s obvious, no?"

When you talk about your country and its actions, you are easily able to report a range of diverse and complex emotions: anger, hatred, rejection, shame, guilt. But when it comes to Palestinian terrorism, which seeks to kill you and me in the streets of the cities, your lexicon becomes very meager.

"So you want me to say that I’m angry at the terrorism? I’m angry at the terrorism. To say that I’m afraid? Yes, I’m afraid. It’s not an interesting subject to talk about."

Why not? Why doesn’t it interest you to talk about my human rights and yours, and of a few million more people - for example, the right to life?

"I feel morally responsible only for what is mine. For my part. For the part of my country. Here I am responsible. I am not responsible for what the Palestinians do, even if they do horrific things. Let us do our spiritual stocktaking and let them do theirs."

Almost all your cases have to do with infringement of Palestinians’ rights, but there are so many other wrongs.

"First of all, I have other cases, too. But in principle that is true, and my answer is very simple: the number of cases in which I represent Palestinians (as opposed to Israelis) is congruent with the number of infringements that the State of Israel perpetrates against the humans rights of the two groups. That does not mean that I don’t take an interest in infringements of human rights of Jewish Israelis. However, as an attorney, I deal with the relations between the individual and the state, with the violation of human rights by the state. Harm done to Israeli citizens by other human beings is a matter for the police or the army. What exactly am I supposed to do as a citizen - file a petition in the High Court of Justice against Hamas?

You specialized in international law. How does one wage a legitimate moral war against terrorism, when the terrorists take refuge amid a civilian population, hide in its homes and surround their hiding places with innocent neighbors?

"The fact that I reject despicable methods on a moral and judicial basis does not oblige me to propose alternative solutions. And yes, there are many prices that an orderly state must pay so that it will not behave like the terrorists. An army that, without batting an eyelash, deliberately kills innocent civilians, whom the state, with terrible cynicism, calls `uninvolved.’ The IDF does not care that it kills and wounds innocent people. Do you know when it began to care? Only when this began to exact a public media-image price in Israel and internationally."

I could go on for hours about what both men said.  About the difference between "being morally responsible for what is mine" and feeling a light bump on the plane when dropping a bomb in the middle of the night on a crowded Gaza neighborhood that you know will kill innocent people.  About the difference between occupation and terrorism, between justice and violence. 

But the bottom line is that Halutz and Sfard show us two sides, and give us a chance again to think about our own actions, our own beliefs, and the actions and beliefs of the U.S. and those of Israel.  What do we choose to believe, to do, in the hopes that we, too, may sleep through the night?  For me, I take comfort in knowing that one positive development of the resumption of the assassination policy is that the Israeli Supreme Court cases, brought by Michael Sfard, challenging this policy may (unlikely, but possible) come out of their deep freeze.  Maybe the next time we read about these two in Haaretz it will be because Sfard has won his case.  That is when I will start sleeping a little better — because Dan Halutz will not be.