First Person / sIngular
March 24, 1998 / 26 Adar, 5758


Bruger Thanks, Saddam, for forcing us to decide

by Tamar Bruger

WHAT SHOULD I pack? How am I going to live without Tropicana? Will I get blown up on a bus?

These were the questions that burdened the minds of my friends and myself, recent high school grads preparing for our year abroad.

Shortly after arriving in Israel, many of our fears were gradually assuaged.

Our parents, however, did not enjoy the same luxury.

Let's face it, being 6,000 miles away from home isn't easy -- for parents -- who tend to take their offspring's every potential problem and danger and "supersize" them to gargantuan proportions. So, naturally, as the recent Iraqi-American conflict unfolded, leaving our innocent little adopted country somehow stuck smack dab in the middle, our parents' imaginations ran -- and continue to run --- rampant.

Saddam and the "Iraqi issue" did more then just strike fear into our parents' hearts. It made each American student peer deeply into her own heart and mind, evaluating her feelings and perceived responsibilities to the State of Israel.

Was Israel going to see a repeat performance of what happened seven years ago amidst the threat of the Gulf War? Were hundred of students going to fill the airports, fleeing to America and the safe protection of their homes?

Or would the American students conclude that both their loyalties and duties are to Israel and therefore remain to see this potential crisis through?

Many factors affected these decisions. Our influences, of course, came from news reports, attitudes of teachers and administrators.

But the most powerful influence came from our parents.

Mark Twain once quipped: "Get your facts first and then you can distort them as much as you please." I believe this has become the credo by which broadcast journalists live.

In order to attract the attention of potential viewers, newscasts must fill their time with stories deemed, well, newsworthy. Finding "high drama" and the unusual is Priority One. Please excuse the cliche, but let's face it, "dog bites man" is not news. "Man bites dog," on the other hand is. Newscasters understand this and their news stories reflect this.

Obviously, it makes for much more compelling television if CNN broadcasts scenes of Israelis crowding and grappling to procure scarce gas masks -- even if that may be the reality at only one distribution point -- than to show that the prevailing feeling here is one of calm. And although we are prepared, we understand that the chances of war are slim to none.

The messages these news reports convey are the feelings that our parents see repeatedly, the ones that are reinforced. And no reassurance from their children abroad will fully stifle their ever growing and misplaced fears.

It may be an unscientific poll, but when asked their opinions and feelings on the issue, most students I know answered similarly.

Zippy Kahan, a student at Midreshet Moriah College of Technology, replied: "This is our country, these are my people ... I'm staying!" Dena Blanchard, also a student at Midreshet, replied: "Everybody is over-reacting ... tell them to just chill out."

Now, nobody is denying there weren't those that felt differently, but what's interesting is very few of my peers acted on those fears, returning home. Had the situation become more serious, the decision undoubtedly would have belonged more to our frazzled parents than it would to us.

To some people's dismay, and to others' delight, Kofi Annan succeeded in an 11th-hour bid at settling the "situation" peacefully. Should Saddam Hussein, however, once again prove his reputation as an untrustworthy tyrant and renege on his signed agreement, a need for a decision will once again resurface for the American students.

To leave, or not to leave, that will be the question. And the answer will be telling, revealing much about who we are and what we stand for.


Tamar Bruger, of Cedarhurst, N.Y., is a freshman at Jerusalem's Midreshet Moriah College of Technology.

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© 1998, Jewish World Review