Today is Rabin Memorial Day. According to the Jewish Calendar he was assassinated today, 12 years ago. According to the Gregorian calendar it was November 4, 1995.
I think that every Israeli that was a grown-up at the time remembers exactly where he was and what he has done when the assassination was reported.
At the time I was a new student at the Hebrew university of Jerusalem. It was Saturday night (the equivalent of Sunday night in other places around the world) and I had to get back from Tel-Aviv to Jerusalem. My boyfriend at the time lived just nearby Malchei-Israel square, today called Rabin Square, as there Rabin was assassinated.
It was a time of controversy between those that supported peace with the Palestinians for almost any price, and those believed that Israel is making too many waivers in this peace process. Fed with assemblies for and against the peace process, and some un-related assemblies, each meant that our street is blocked again and thousands of people from all around Israel packing the area, we have decided to attend the assembly to show our support, but leave early, to make our way to Jerusalem before it ends and everyone is pouring to the streets again.
There were dozens if not hundreds of thousands of people. Everyone was in a lifted mood. We really thought, for the first time in many years, that peace can happen.
As planed, we left for Jerusalem and replaced the hectic atmosphere of the assembly with a movie in Jerusalem. Not long after the movie started someone came into the cinema and said, “Rabin was shot”. There was a hamming. People called their acquaintances to see if it is true and started leaving the theater. We were just sitting there, not really understanding what we’ve just been told. We stared at the screen, eventually we just left. Later, on the radio we heard that Rabin was dead.
The following day, I spent many hours standing with thousands of people out of the Knesset (the Israeli Parliament) district, just to be able to walk across Rabin’s coffin, tell everyone that we still believe in peace and honor Rabin for all he had done for peace, including giving his own life. The policemen didn’t let us stop by the coffin, not even for a moment. You could just walk by, letting others do the same as you.
The conspiracy theories surrounding the assassination of Rabin started not long after. Probably a year or two. Then, many years passed without them being in the headline, and they are here again. Same as was with assassinations of American presidents like JFK.
They claim that Igal Amir, the convicted assassin, was actually using empty cartridge, while the actual murderer was sitting in Rabin’s car. They claim that Rabin was actually brought healthy to his car. They have all their “proofs” for that, but I just don’t believe it. I don’t believe it for two main reasons:
1. Igal Amir never said that he hasn’t done it and never said he was sorry for what he has done.
2. I don’t believe in conspiracies.
I believe that Wag the Dog and JFK are just movies, and that what happened there, can only happen in movies.
In order to have this conspiracy true, we need at least ten of people involved and one person to take the blame of something he hasn’t done and pay for that in a life sentence. We also need all these people to remain silent for the rest of their lives. This is simply impossible. The officials are trying to keep quiet actions that are much less significant, and they simply can’t, because there always be someone that will speak at a certain point. I can’t believe that this could happen here either, in the most terrible action taken in Israel by an Israeli for political reason.
Tel Aviv, Israel
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2 comments:
Hi, I'm a random blogger who happened upon your blog.
your experience of Rabin's murder as you describe it sounds very similar to mine. I was at the event on the square for the first little while, then went to the cinematheque in Tel-Aviv, where a friend of mine worked as an usher. She let me in for free to watch Nanni Moretti's "Dear diary"
Towards the end of the film, its protagonist is inflicted with cancer. We, the audience, know this, but he doesn't and the doctors are not taking his complaints seriously, giving him placebos instead of treatment. Just as he's about to find out about his cancer, the door to the cinema opened and a man stepped in. I knew him as my friend's boss - the cinematheque's manager.
He said: I'm sorry to disrupt the film but there's been a "pigua" on the square and Rabin is dead.
Nobody knew what to do, I ran up and asked him how many people died in the "pigua". He said: "Just Rabin".
It turns out the crew of the cinema sat with the radio on until the death notice was given before choosing to disrupt the films.
My friend joined me for a long walk through Tel-Aviv, we were hugged the whole time, practically, if not physically, shivering. Walking up Dizzengoff we passed the Hod cinema, in which a few days previously I watched Emir Kostaritza's "Underground". At the end of that film a family that hid underground for years emerges to glimpse the reality of the Yugoslav war. The film also contains footage of Tito's funeral.
As we passed the cinema, "Undergorund's" audience was emerging from the subterranean theater. We told them of what happened. The film-reality barrier was breached completely, unfortunately it was a really scary movie we were all in.
I’m surprised to see how clear your memory of that day is. It was shocking and we tend to remember such moments, yet I was trying to remember which movie I saw that day and simply couldn’t. One thing I remember clearly -- my feeling: denial, orphanhood and fear.
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