Tel Aviv Quotes

If the Palestinian people really wish to decide that they will battle to the very end to prevent partition or annexation of even an inch of their ancestral soil, then I have to concede that that is their right. I even think that a sixty-year rather botched experiment in marginal quasi-statehood is something that the Jewish people could consider abandoning. It represents barely an instant in our drawn-out and arduous history, and it's already been agreed even by the heirs of Ze'ev Jabotinsky that the whole scheme is unrealizable in 'Judaea and Samaria,' let alone in Gaza or Sinai. But it's flat-out intolerable to be solicited to endorse a side-by-side Palestinian homeland and then to discover that there are sinuous two-faced apologists explaining away the suicide-murder of Jewish civilians in Tel Aviv, a city which would be part of a Jewish state or community under any conceivable 'solution.' There's that word again...

People aren't good or bad. They just do good or bad things. Your only hope is to know which is which.

Edward had a personal horror of violence and never endorsed or excused it, though in a documentary he made about the conflict he said that actions like the bombing of pilgrims at Tel Aviv airport 'did more harm than good,' which I remember thinking was (a) euphemistic and (b) a slipshod expression unworthy of a professor of English.

Plasticity and entanglement imply that every single brain must be unique, for the simple fact that every person’s life experience is different. It is this, argues Daphna Joel at Tel Aviv University, that makes looking for differences between groups so fraught with error. Evidence of sex difference in the brain is statistically problematic because each brain varies from the next.

Jonah didn’t want to go. Peter didn’t want to go. You know what? Sometimes I don’t want to go. But we are all called to get out of our biases and our preconceived ideas of what a ministry looks like and “Go into all the world and preach the Good News to everyone” (Mark 16:15 NLT). Come . . . to Tel Aviv!

The stadium was quiet. Cohen raised his hands and parted his fingers. He switched from English to Hebrew—not the new Hebrew of the Tel Aviv streets but the archaic language of the synagogue and the Diaspora, of the old men at the Gate of Heaven, the language of the priests, fifteen words. He blessed the people, and left the stage.

I think he maybe lives with his mother in Israel, maybe Jerusalem or Tel Aviv.” He knew it was Jerusalem.

Look at the snow, the woman was saying to the child. The snow absolves Vienna of its sins. The snow falls on Vienna while the missiles rain on Tel Aviv.

What I love most about Jerusalem is that it’s not about money.” “Pardon?” “New York here is a city about money. L.A.’s about money. Las Vegas is about money. Dallas the same. Tokyo and London, Milan, Zurich, Singapore, the whole reason for them is money. Tel Aviv’s about money. But Jerusalem, it’s not about money.” “He is absolutely right,” put in Abu. “Jerusalem is about . . . something else.

But peace is a fact. A matter of time. Look at South Africa, Northern Ireland, Germany, France, Japan, even Egypt. Who would have believed it possible? Did the Palestinians kill six million Israelis? Did the Israelis kill six million Palestinians? But the Germans killed six million Jews and look, now we have an Israeli diplomat in Berlin and we have a German ambassador in Tel Aviv. You see, nothing is impossible. As long as I am not occupied, as long as I have my rights, so long as you allow me to move around, to vote, to be human, then anything is possible.

Sometimes people ask me why I travel so much, and specifically why we travel with Henry so often. I think they think it’s easier to keep the kids at home, in their routines, surrounded by their stuff. It is. But we travel because it’s there. Because Capri exists and Kenya exists and Tel Aviv exists, and I want to taste every bite of it. We travel because I want my kids to learn, as I learned, that there are a million ways to live, a million ways to eat, a million ways to dress and speak and view the world. I want them to know that “our way” isn’t the right way, but just one way, that children all over the world, no matter how different they seem, are just like the children in our neighborhood—they love to play, to discover, to learn. I want my kids to learn firsthand and up close that different isn’t bad, but instead that different is exciting and wonderful and worth taking the time to understand. I want them to see themselves as bit players in a huge, sweeping, beautiful play, not as the main characters in the drama of our living room. I want my kids to taste and smell and experience the biggest possible world, because every bite of it, every taste and texture and flavor, is delicious.

In Boston right around the same time, another criminologist did a similar study: Half the crime in the city came from 3.6 percent of the city’s blocks. That made two examples. Weisburd decided to look wherever he could: New York. Seattle. Cincinnati. Sherman looked in Kansas City, Dallas. Anytime someone asked, the two of them would run the numbers. And every place they looked, they saw the same thing: Crime in every city was concentrated in a tiny number of street segments. Weisburd decided to try a foreign city, somewhere entirely different—culturally, geographically, economically. His family was Israeli, so he thought Tel Aviv. Same thing. “I said, ‘Oh my God. Look at that! Why should it be that five percent of the streets in Tel Aviv produce fifty percent of the crime? There’s this thing going on, in places that are so different.’” Weisburd refers to this as the Law of Crime Concentration.6 Like suicide, crime is tied to very specific places and contexts. Weisburd’s experiences in the 72nd Precinct and in Minneapolis are not idiosyncratic. They capture something close to a fundamental truth about human behavior. And that means that when you confront the stranger, you have to ask yourself where and when you’re confronting the stranger—because those two things powerfully influence your interpretation of who the stranger is.

When he answered, “Tel Aviv,” she didn’t let him get away with it. “But before that, where did your family come from?” He reluctantly offered that his father came from Germany and his mother from Russia. Mama didn’t make a comment, but I knew what she was thinking—“You come from Germany and Russia, and you claim this is home! Give me a break!

His decisions were all based on long-held policy positions of various sectors within the pro-Israel community. Many were bipartisan, such as the move of the American embassy from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem, which, as we explain in detail, was based on a law passed during the Clinton administration with an overwhelming majority of Democrats and Republicans.

Within a week I walked the streets of Tel-Aviv, I wandered around Budapest and found myself admiring the Architecture of Paris. That's the power of great literature.

In Israel, no one really dies. In Israel no one really lives in.

In parallel, he devised a system of underpasses and circuitous routes for Palestinian villagers who were barred from accessing the settler highways cutting through their lands. These were given the benevolent-sounding name of "fabric of life" roads. In private, Israeli officials called the something more honest. Speaking to the US ambassador in Tel Aviv, who summarised the conversation in a diplomatic cable, Israel's deputy defense minister referred to them as "apartheid roads.

Once I had wondered what it would be like to be an adult. I thought, like all children, that adulthood was accompanied by esoteric secrets, complicated insights, mysteriously acquired skills. But it turned out to be very simple: you were exactly the same, you were still a child, but you had to find a way to look after yourself.

If Z had only known in his perfectly lovely two rooms in Paris what he'd come to know in his single 6x8 block somewhere, he guessed, just outside Tel Aviv. If he'd had an inkling in that breezy French apartment of what true boredom felt like and true loneliness, and true limbo - what it might actually be like to be locked up, hidden away without hope. If he'd tasted real madness at that point, he'd not have decided that he was so bored and so crazy that, without TV or Radio or a suitably advanced French, that, at the very least, he deserved a taste of the night air and something decent to read, and maybe, if the shop was still open, a decent bottle of wine.

At the end of a pier in Tel Aviv, a man was about to jump into the sea when a policeman came running up to him. “No, no!” he cried. “How can a man like you, in the prime of life, think of jumping into that water?” “Because I can’t stand it anymore! I don’t want to live!” “But listen, mister, please. If you jump in the water, I’ll have to jump in after you, to save you. Right? Well, it so happens I can’t swim. Do you know what that means? I have a wife and four children, and in the line of duty I would drown! Would you want to have such a terrible thing on your conscience? No, I’m sure. So be a good Jew, and do a real mitzva. Go home. And in the privacy and comfort of your own home, hang yourself.

Among those displaced in 1948 were my grandparents, who had to leave their Tal al-Rish home where my father and most of his siblings were born. Initially my grandfather, now eighty-five years old and frail, stubbornly refused to leave his house. After his sons took most of the family to shelter in Jerusalem and Nablus, he remained there alone for several weeks. Fearing for his safety, a family friend from Jaffa ventured to the house during a lull in the fighting to retrieve him. He left unwillingly, lamenting that he could not take his books with him. Neither he nor his children ever saw their home again. The ruins of my grandparents’ large stone house still stand abandoned on the outskirts of Tel Aviv.

Ce n'est pas la première fois qu'un attentat secoue Tel-Aviv, et les secours sont menés au fur et à mesure avec une efficacité grandissante. Mais un attentat reste un attentat. A l'usure, on peut le gérer techniquement, pas humainement. L'émoi et l'effroi ne font pas bon ménage avec le sang froid. Lorsque l'horreur frappe, c'est toujours le coeur qu'elle vise le premier.

Ben had the most expressive face I’d ever seen. When he told a story, he dove into it, re-enacting each character with a new set of his jaw and cast of his brow. His eyes shone vibrantly, and every time he laughed, it showed in his whole body. Just watching him made me smile. I felt warm around him, and happy, and comfortable. I felt like flannel pajamas, hot cocoa, a teddy bear, and my favorite comedy on DVD. I felt like home. I loved Ben, that’s what I felt. It popped into my head, and I didn’t doubt it for a second. I loved Ben. Well that was settled then, wasn’t it? Then my eyes darted to Sage, and I noticed he wasn’t focused on Ben’s story either. He was watching me. He was watching me watch Ben, to be precise, leaning back on his elbows and staring so fixedly that I could practically hear him scratching his way into my brain to listen to what I was thinking. And the minute I felt that, I was desperate to take back what I’d thought, and make sure he hadn’t understood. Especially since I had this strong feeling that if he believed I loved Ben, he’d disappear. Maybe not right away, but as soon as he could. And that would be the end of the world. “Okay, Sage, your turn,” Rayna said. “What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done in the middle of a social function?” Instantly Sage’s intense stare was gone, replaced by a relaxed pose and a charming smile. “Um, I would say doing a spit take in front of Clea’s mom, several senators, and the Israeli foreign minister would probably cover it.” “You did that?” I asked. “Oh yes, he did,” Rayna nodded. “And the minister still offered you his house in Tel Aviv for the honeymoon? That’s shocking.” “Rayna is particularly charming,” Sage noted. “Thank you, darling.” She batted her eyes at him like a Disney princess. “What happened?” Ben asked. “Piri spiked your drink with garlic?” “You say that like it’s a joke,” Sage said. “I’m pretty sure she did.” “She must really have it out for you,” Ben said. “Palinka’s Hungarian holy water. You don’t mess with that.” “Speaking of holy water, I so did not get that on our trip,” Rayna put in. “Clea and I were touring one of the cathedrals in Italy, and in front of the whole tour I go, “That’s too cute! Look, they have birdbaths in the church!

Rayna beamed as she hugged everyone good-bye and accepted their wishes for a long and happy relationship. Sage looked dazed. “How did it go?” I asked. “I think your mother just arranged peace in the Middle East while brokering a marriage deal for Rayna and me.” “I’m not surprised. How many kids are you having?” “Four. But we can’t start until she’s twenty-six, three years after the wedding. Oh, and we’re honeymooning at the minister’s beach house in Tel Aviv.” “That’s nice. I’ll have to pop in for a visit.” Sage just shook his head, still shell-shocked. “Piri forgive you yet?” Ben grinned. “I don’t think so. She put an inch of garlic on everything she served me.” “Don’t take it personally. There’s lots of garlic in Hungarian food,” I assured him. “Including my chocolate torte,” Sage added. “Okay, you can take that personally,” I admitted.

Nowhere was the airport’s charm more concentrated than on the screens placed at intervals across the terminal which announced, in deliberately workmanlike fonts, the itineraries of aircraft about to take to the skies. These screens implied a feeling of infinite and immediate possibility: they suggested the ease with which we might impulsively approach a ticket desk and, within a few hours, embark for a country where the call to prayer rang out over shuttered whitewashed houses, where we understood nothing of the language and where no one knew our identities. The lack of detail about the destinations served only to stir unfocused images of nostalgia and longing: Tel Aviv, Tripoli, St Petersburg, Miami, Muscat via Abu Dhabi, Algiers, Grand Cayman via Nassau … all of these promises of alternative lives, to which we might appeal at moments of claustrophobia and stagnation.

A carpenter witnessed to me about Christ. He died knowing he had brought only my wife and me to faith, but we brought others to Christ. Those brought others, and so on. The result is Hebrew Christian churches in Haifa, Tel-Aviv, and Jerusalem. Their true founder is that carpenter. He witnessed to many people without result, but he brought one to Christ who brought others. Some of them became interested in helping persecuted Christians in communist countries. That is how The Voice of the Martyrs worldwide began.

According to the Pulitzer-winning PolitiFact (a left-tilting website that’s clearly no admirer of Trump), President Trump has kept the following campaign promises: He promised to take no salary—promise kept. He promised to create a twenty-four-hour White House hotline for veterans—promise kept. He promised to slash federal regulations—promise kept. He promised to ban White House officials from ever lobbying for a foreign nation—promise kept. He promised to nominate a replacement for Antonin Scalia from a list of conservative, strict constructionist judges—promise kept. Trump promised to keep the Guantanamo Bay Detention Center open—promise kept. He promised to move the U.S. Embassy from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem—promise kept. He promised to pull the United States out of the Paris Climate Accord—promise kept. He promised to persuade NATO nations to contribute more for their common defense—promise kept. He promised to halt emigration to America from unstable, terrorist-ridden nations—promise kept. And on and on, one campaign promise after another, kept by President Trump and checked off by PolitiFact.184 This isn’t the record of someone who aspires to be a dictator; it’s the record of a democratic politician who keeps his word.

Yet the homogeneity of contemporary humanity is most apparent when it comes to our view of the natural world and of the human body. If you fell sick a thousand years ago, it mattered a great deal where you lived. In Europe, the resident priest would probably tell you that you had made God angry and that in order to regain your health you should donate something to the church, make a pilgrimage to a sacred site, and pray fervently for God’s forgiveness. Alternatively, the village witch might explain that a demon had possessed you and that she could cast it out using song, dance, and the blood of a black cockerel. In the Middle East, doctors brought up on classical traditions might explain that your four bodily humors were out of balance and that you should harmonize them with a proper diet and foul-smelling potions. In India, Ayurvedic experts would offer their own theories concerning the balance between the three bodily elements known as doshas and recommend a treatment of herbs, massages, and yoga postures. Chinese physicians, Siberian shamans, African witch doctors, Amerindian medicine men—every empire, kingdom, and tribe had its own traditions and experts, each espousing different views about the human body and the nature of sickness, and each offering their own cornucopia of rituals, concoctions, and cures. Some of them worked surprisingly well, whereas others were little short of a death sentence. The only thing that united European, Chinese, African, and American medical practices was that everywhere at least a third of all children died before reaching adulthood, and average life expectancy was far below fifty.14 Today, if you happen to be sick, it makes much less difference where you live. In Toronto, Tokyo, Tehran, or Tel Aviv, you will be taken to similar-looking hospitals, where you will meet doctors in white coats who learned the same scientific theories in the same medical colleges. They will follow identical protocols and use identical tests to reach very similar diagnoses. They will then dispense the same medicines produced by the same international drug companies. There are still some minor cultural differences, but Canadian, Japanese, Iranian, and Israeli physicians hold much the same views about the human body and human diseases. After the Islamic State captured Raqqa and Mosul, it did not tear down the local hospitals. Rather, it launched an appeal to Muslim doctors and nurses throughout the world to volunteer their services there.15 Presumably even Islamist doctors and nurses believe that the body is made of cells, that diseases are caused by pathogens, and that antibiotics kill bacteria.

Images juxtaposées des comportements virils à travers le monde : défilés militaires devant le Kremlin à Moscou, réunions de la Camorra à Naples, discours de réception à l'Académie française avec épées et uniformes verts, congrégation de motards en Californie, rites d'initiation des Indiens bororos du Brésil, proxénètes de Tel-Aviv, traders de Tokyo, supporters de foot de Manchester, sénateurs, francs-maçons, prisonniers - oh, les postures ! les attitudes ! les mécaniques ! oh, les mecs ! Aussi angoissés qu'arrogants, leur arrogance n'étant que l'envers de leur angoisse, car ils sont tellement plus mortels que nous ! Oh, l'attendrissant besoin de ces primates supérieurs sans utérus de se durcir et de se décorer, de parader et de pétarader pour se donner de l'allure, du poids et du sérieux !

Chapter 17   I was on my way from Rambam Hospital to Tiberias, when the news first came across the radio about a suicide bombing in Tel Aviv. Maggie was still at the Hematology  Ward. I tried to imagine how she felt listening to the news. Surely she was as shocked as everyone else. There in the ward, patients were fighting for their lives, and now in another place in the country, people had perished in seconds. The entire country was horrified by the horrible scenes that aired on all the media. Gradually, the magnitude of the disaster started to be known. A suicide bomber detonated a charge inside a bus, while travelers were going up and down the bus at the heart of the city. It was a few minutes before nine in the morning. There were over twenty dead and dozens wounded. At home, sitting in front of the TV, I watched the extensive coverage. This transition from the sick atmosphere of the hospital in the morning, to the atmosphere of the evening suicide bombing, was depressing. The TV coverage was painful and brought an atmosphere of sadness. I had a feeling that the broadcast intended to clarify to all the people who were still healthy  that their health would not help them. That their end could come just as it did to those victims of the terrorism act on the bus. People did not stop thinking about the event, and the harsh images which were shown repeatedly on the television. Reporters broadcasted from the scene in heightened excitement and everything was filmed live. It seemed that someone was afraid, lest, God forbid, there would be a single person in the country who did not watch this horror. It was appalling. It was one of the first suicide bombings in Israel, and perhaps one of the largest ones.

In fact, the same basic ingredients can easily be found in numerous start-up clusters in the United States and around the world: Austin, Boston, New York, Seattle, Shanghai, Bangalore, Istanbul, Stockholm, Tel Aviv, and Dubai. To discover the secret to Silicon Valley’s success, you need to look beyond the standard origin story. When people think of Silicon Valley, the first things that spring to mind—after the HBO television show, of course—are the names of famous start-ups and their equally glamorized founders: Apple, Google, Facebook; Jobs/ Wozniak, Page/ Brin, Zuckerberg. The success narrative of these hallowed names has become so universally familiar that people from countries around the world can tell it just as well as Sand Hill Road venture capitalists. It goes something like this: A brilliant entrepreneur discovers an incredible opportunity. After dropping out of college, he or she gathers a small team who are happy to work for equity, sets up shop in a humble garage, plays foosball, raises money from sage venture capitalists, and proceeds to change the world—after which, of course, the founders and early employees live happily ever after, using the wealth they’ve amassed to fund both a new generation of entrepreneurs and a set of eponymous buildings for Stanford University’s Computer Science Department. It’s an exciting and inspiring story. We get the appeal. There’s only one problem. It’s incomplete and deceptive in several important ways. First, while “Silicon Valley” and “start-ups” are used almost synonymously these days, only a tiny fraction of the world’s start-ups actually originate in Silicon Valley, and this fraction has been getting smaller as start-up knowledge spreads around the globe. Thanks to the Internet, entrepreneurs everywhere have access to the same information. Moreover, as other markets have matured, smart founders from around the globe are electing to build companies in start-up hubs in their home countries rather than immigrating to Silicon Valley.

University, where she is an adjunct professor of education and serves on the Veterans Committee, among about a thousand other things. That’s heroism. I have taken the kernel of her story and do what I do, which is dramatize, romanticize, exaggerate, and open fire. Hence, Game of Snipers. Now, on to apologies, excuses, and evasions. Let me offer the first to Tel Aviv; Dearborn, Michigan; Greenville, Ohio; Wichita, Kansas; Rock Springs, Wyoming; and Anacostia, D.C. I generally go to places I write about to check the lay of streets, the fall of shadows, the color of police cars, and the taste of local beer. At seventy-three, such ordeals-by-airport are no longer fun, not even the beer part; I only go where there’s beaches. For this book, I worked from maps and Google, and any geographical mistakes emerge out of that practice. Is the cathedral three hundred yards from the courthouse in Wichita? Hmm, seems about right, and that’s good enough for me on this. On the other hand, I finally got Bob’s wife’s name correct. It’s Julie, right? I’ve called her Jen more than once, but I’m pretty sure Jen was Bud Pewtie’s wife in Dirty White Boys. For some reason, this mistake seemed to trigger certain Amazon reviewers into psychotic episodes. Folks, calm down, have a drink, hug someone soft. It’ll be all right. As for the shooting, my account of the difficulties of hitting at over a mile is more or less accurate (snipers have done it at least eight times). I have simplified, because it is so arcane it would put all but the most dedicated in a coma. I have also been quite accurate about the ballistics app FirstShot, because I made it up and can make it do anything I want. The other shot, the three hundred, benefits from the wisdom of Craig Boddington, the great hunter and writer, who looked it over and sent me a detailed email, from which I have borrowed much. Naturally, any errors are mine, not Craig’s. I met Craig when shooting something (on film!) for another boon companion, Michael Bane, and his Outdoor Channel Gun Stories crew. For some reason, he finds it amusing when I start jabbering away and likes to turn the camera on. Don’t ask me why. On the same trip, I also met the great firearms historian and all-around movie guy (he knows more than I do) Garry James, who has become

Paris pour le rappeler. En déclarant, le 9 juillet dernier, sans un mot pour les dizaines de victimes civiles palestiniennes, qu’il appartenait au gouvernement de Tel-​Aviv de « prendre toutes les mesures pour

La Ierusalim oamenii mergeau intotdeauna ca dupa un mort sau ca intarziatii la un concert. Mai intai puneau jos varful pantofului si incercau pamantul. Apoi, dupa ce asezau piciorul, nu se grabeau deloc sa-l miste: asteptasem doua mii de ani ca sa putem pune piciorul in Ierusalim, si nu voiam sa renuntam la asta. Daca ridicam piciorul s-ar fi putut sa vina cineva si sa ne insface fasiuta de tara. Pe de alta parte, dupa ce ai ridicat piciorul, nu te pripi sa-l pui iar jos: cine stie in ce cuib de vipere poti calca. Sute de ani ne-am platit cu sange impetuozitatea, am cazut iar si iar in mainile dusmanilor pentru ca am pus picioarele pe pamant fara sa ne uitam pe unde mergem. Cam asa paseau oamenii la Ierusalim. Dar la Tel Aviv - maiculita! Intreg orasul era o lacusta uriasa. Oamenii saltau, ca si casele, strazile, pietele, briza marii, nisipul, bulevardele, si chiar norii de pe cer.

In Jerusalem, as elsewhere in Palestine, the Haganah's basic strategy reflected a philosophy propounded by David Ben-Gurion. What the Jews had, they must hold. No Jew was to leave his home, his farm, his kibbutz, his office without permission. Every outpost, every settlement, every village, no matter how isolated, was to be clung to as though it were Tel Aviv itself.

According to studies done by Dr. Avi Sadeh of Tel Aviv University, the performance gap caused by just one hour’s less sleep was equivalent to the normal gap between a sixth-grader and a fourth-grader. In other words, your sixth-grader who’s going to school sleepy may be learning (and behaving) at a fourth-grade level.6

It is a fact of human nature that we derive pleasure from watching others engage in pleasurable acts. This explains the popularity of two enterprises: pornography and cafés. Americans excel at the former, but Europeans do a better job at the latter. The food and the coffee are almost beside the point. I once heard of a café in Tel Aviv that dispensed with food and drink all together; it served customers empty plates and cups yet charged real money. Cafés are theaters where the customer is both audience and performer.

I’m excited to announce that Book 2 of our series, My Job: More People at Work Around the World, is in production. Having met hundreds of people in fascinating jobs, I faced an enormous challenge in selecting the stories to include in Book 2 . . . but I believe this collection will surprise and delight you. It covers a range of jobs in the following sections: Health and Recovery Education and Finance Agribusiness and Food Processing Arts and Culture Activism and Diplomacy The book allows you to experience what it’s like to be an addiction-recovery counselor trained as a clown in London, an art teacher working with gang members in Chicago, a midwife working in rural villages in Guatemala, or a mobile-banking agent making her first million in Zambia. Book 2 will take you places you’ve never been, from the Appalachian Mountains of West Virginia to a serene beach in Tel Aviv, Israel, and take you deep into the true stories of what it’s like to work at jobs as disparate as teaching a grieving widow to dance, to negotiating with a terrorist. The book will publish in March and is available for preorder at Amazon.

opération. Et nous ne voulons pas de casse, ni chez vos hommes, ni pour nous, d’autant que Tel Aviv niera son implication si ça tourne mal. Mais, il y a moins de cinq ans, j’ai moi-même égorgé un responsable du Esbollah qui faisait partie de la liste de l’opération Colère de Dieu. Au passage, j’ai tué quatre de ses gardes du corps à l’arme blanche. Je vous rappelle, que nous sommes sous mandat direct de la Knesset, et qu’il s’agit justement d’une prolongation de Colère de Dieu. Les ordres donnés aux terroristes arabes à Munich en 72 l’ont été depuis ici. Donc, je viens. Je suis garante des compétences d’Eve, quant au jeune blanc bec derrière vous, Ezra, c’est notre meilleur homme de terrain. - Il nous faut une personne en support logistique, quoiqu’il arrive, conclut le militaire vexé. Donc, démerdez-vous comme vous voulez, à la courte paille si ça vous amuse. Mais, j’en emmène deux sur les trois. Pas les trois. - Au fait, ça vous sera probablement utile dit Eve, en tendant les plans et compte-rendu de Menouha. C’est assez parcellaire comme informations, mais, elle a quand même fait un bon boulot. 29 Août 1990 – Rio de Janeiro – Brésil Sarah préparait Thomas dans la salle de bain. - Il est où papa ? - Il est parti jouer au golf avec le monsieur qui nous a aidés à guérir ta sœur. - Il rentre quand ? - Ce soir. Nous, on va aller à la plage avec Chloé. Le petit garçon échappa aux mains de sa mère qui venait de lui enfiler son t-shirt et courut dans le salon. - Isabella, tu viens avec nous à la plage ? - Je ne sais pas mon grand, répondit la jeune infirmière. Maman veut peut-être rester seule avec ses deux bambins. - Non. Isabella, vous pouvez venir avec nous. Cela fera plaisir aux enfants, répondit Sarah depuis la salle de bain. Le temps était magnifique. Thomas courait devant, son ballon à la main, dans le sable blanc de la plage d’Ipanema. Sarah et Isabella portèrent Chloé qui arrivait maintenant à marcher sur des sols durs, mais pas encore dans le sable. Les deux jeunes femmes s’installèrent non loin de l’eau dans une zone surveillée par un maitre-nageur. Thomas s’était arrêté devant un petit groupe de brésiliens à peine plus vieux que lui qui jouait au football sur un terrain improvisé. Il aurait voulu jouer avec eux mais, il n’osait pas demander. Isabella s’approcha des enfants et en quelques mots leur fit comprendre qu’avec un joueur de plus, ils seraient en nombre pair, ce qui rendrait leur partie intéressante. - Mais, non… chuchota Thomas à l’oreille de la jeune infirmière. Regarde comme ils jouent bien. Ils vont se moquer de moi. - Je suis certaine que non. Et, puis, si c’est le cas et que ça ne te convient pas, tu auras toujours la possibilité de revenir nous voir sous le parasol. Mais, si tu n’essaies pas, si tu ne te confrontes pas à eux, tu ne sauras jamais s’ils étaient vraiment meilleurs que toi, s’il s’agit d’enfants moqueurs ou de futurs copains. Tu comprends petit Thomas. Il faut tenter. Prendre des risques, sinon, on n’apprend rien. Allez, va. Ils t’attendent...

In 2002, Mona Baker, a professor of translation studies at the University of Manchester Institute of Science and Technology and the publisher of two scholarly journals—Translator and Translation Studies Abstracts—dismissed Gideon Toury, a professor at Tel Aviv University, from the advisory board of Translator. She also dismissed Miriam Shlesinger, a lecturer in translation studies at Bar-Ilan University, from the advisory board of Translation Studies Abstracts. Ironically, both Toury and Shlesinger oppose the Israeli government’s policies vis-à-vis the Palestinians.

He looked up as the train stopped at Tel Aviv University, watching the students disembarking.

Jews have grown so obsessed with Israel that the overt and covert signals of anti-Semitism beamed from the interior of the Trump campaign appeared to be disregarded by people like Adelson and Bernie Marcus, the Home Depot co-founder and Republican mega-donor who seemed wowed by candidate Trump’s solemn promise to immediately move the U.S. embassy from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem and to back Likud’s expansive settlement policy on the West Bank. Never mind that both moves were purely symbolic: Netanyahu was going to do what he was going to do regardless of Washington’s feckless policies or the location of its ambassador. What mattered was Israel, pure and simple. It was something of a comeuppance when President Trump immediately backed off his promise of an embassy move, swiftly sent a letter to Prime Minister Netanyahu scolding him on settlements, and promised a new push for Israeli-Palestinian peace talks. But beyond leaked word that Adelson was really, really, really angry, no apologies or mea culpas were forthcoming from American Jewry. Trump did make Israel a stop on his first trip abroad—the earliest visit to the Jewish state by any American president. But before his arrival, his White House made no comment on the two Israeli-American journalists who were denied visas to follow the president into Saudi Arabia, where he happily danced with swords and his commerce secretary boasted that there had been no protestors. Once he had landed in Jerusalem, Trump did note that he “just got back from the Middle East,” a moment memorialized by Ron Dermer, Israel’s ambassador to the United States, covering his face with his hand in frustration or amazement. Trump scheduled all of fifteen minutes for a stop at Yad Vashem, Israel’s revered Holocaust memorial and museum, and in his brief remarks there—from 1:27 to 1:34 p.m.—he managed both to extol the Jewish people and let slip his cherished stereotypes: “Through persecution, oppression, death, and destruction, the Jewish people have persevered. They have thrived. They’ve become so successful in so many places.” Ever solicitous, Netanyahu thanked the president, who “in so few words said so much.” No one took note of the irony that the Holocaust survivor who greeted Trump, Margot Herschenbaum, had been rescued in 1939 by the Kindertransport, which had whisked her out of Germany and had saved thousands of other Jewish children. Refugees like Herschenbaum had been denied entry to the United States during World War II, just as Trump has steadfastly denied the entry of Syrian children fleeing war and death in their own country.

Burrow down a millimeter beneath this argument, and it is easy to see that unlike European anti-Semites, their American brethren very much do hate Jews per se and do not try very hard to hide it or cloak it in academic argument. They have resurfaced all the stereotypes of Nazi iconography, which in turn was built on centuries of hate: the Jew is both shiftless, cowardly, and weak, and duplicitous, manipulative, and all-powerful. As with more ancient strains of anti-Semitism, the new breed insists that Jews are responsible for their own oppression. The alt-right is fond of asking the classic “When did you stop beating your wife” question over and over and over. “Quick question,” “Darrell Lampshade” (charming, right?) asked me. “Why have Jews been kicked out of so many countries if they never did anything wrong? Please answer!” And now that Jews have their own country, they should go there and leave the United States to the white people who valiantly claimed it long before it was cluttered by the mongrel races. One of the memes of the alt-right is the notion that a fifth column of duplicitous Jews is constantly urging the United States on to war on Israel’s behalf, that the beautiful white male fruits of true America will fight and die in the sands of the Middle East on behalf of the cowardly Jew. “We got the goyim to fight for us as usual. It’s amazing how they haven’t driven us back to the desert yet!” “Abraham Moshe Fuxman” once tweeted at me. “A point @jonathanweisman has no interest in acknowledging,” responded “Pax Trumpiana.” “He loves war as long as he’s spilling goyim blood.” Israel, so it goes, should fight for itself, and the Jews orchestrating war should do so from Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, not Washington and New York.

to each other. People said some strange things. For instance, they said that magenta was similar to red, but that red wasn’t similar to magenta. Amos spotted the contradiction and set out to generalize it. He asked people if they thought North Korea was like Red China. They said yes. He asked them if Red China was like North Korea—and they said no. People thought Tel Aviv was like New York but that New York was not like Tel Aviv. People thought that the number 103 was sort of like the number 100, but that 100 wasn’t like 103. People thought a toy train was a lot like a real train but that a real train was not like a toy train.

Por unos minutos, Luciano se deleitó visualizando en su mente las calles de Tel Aviv, Haifa y Jerusalén limpias de judíos, con bellas mujeres musulmanas modestamente cubiertas con sus burkas, acompañadas de hombres decentes y temerosos de Alá.

תל אביב יפה, אני אוהבת אותה, העיר הזאת שוכחת הכול.

En mayo de 1967 el presidente egipcio Gamal Abdel Nasser, un desequilibrado mental que hizo de la guerra antijudía el eje de sus discursos, bloqueó a Israel por el sur y por el oeste, declaró que en una semana se encontraría en Tel Aviv con su par sirio y embarcó tanto a Jordania como a Siria en la aventura que se refleja en este mapa. Nasser también llevó a la conflagración a Irak y al Líbano, que pusieron a sus ejércitos en pie de guerra y anunciaron que tirarían a todos los judíos al mar, dada la pública operación de pinzas que ventilaban por la prensa y debido a que se habían preparado toda la vida para ese momento. ¿Qué hace Israel? Nada, se banca en silencio la preparación de la ofensiva del enemigo. Conoce de antemano sus planes de acción y el momento exacto en que desde los aeropuertos egipcios saldrán los ataques para destruirlo. Entonces, a las 0745 de la mañana del 5 de junio de 1967 lanza sus 207 cazas de combate y aniquila al 80% de la fuerza aérea egipcia en tierra, con sus aviones fuera de los hangares listos para despegar contra Israel. En los días siguientes hace lo propio con Siria y Jordania. Neutralizado el enemigo árabe en sus fuerzas aéreas (todas soviéticas, destruidas casi por completo), comienza al toque el operativo de demolición terrestre de los blindados egipcios en la península del Sinaí y en la meseta del Golán en el frente sirio. Los árabes pierden 3.300 tanques y 650 aviones; las pérdidas de Israel son menores a la quinceava parte de esas cifras.

Hay quienes no se quieren enterar de que la Biblia no es más que una recopilación de textos de diferentes procedencias que fueron recogidos a lo largo de varios siglos y que fueron editados con el formato actual en tiempos del rey Josías (639-608 a. C.), y no es la palabra de ninguna divinidad (¿y si resulta que Dios no se comunica a través de los libros?). Resulta muy ilustrativa la investigación del director del Instituto de Arqueología de la Universidad de Tel Aviv, el doctor Israel Finkelstein (2001). Los estudios arqueológicos científicos demuestran que el Éxodo masivo, tal como se narra, no existió, que los patriarcas no fueron más que mitos colectivos en torno a los que giraron las identidades tribales de muchas comunidades de la zona y que el Pentateuco, lejos de haber sido escrito por Moisés, fue una recopilación de diversos escritos y leyes de orígenes diversos (incluyendo las leyes babilónicas) pero que, en ningún caso, tienen origen divino. Simplemente fueron un elemento propagandístico para el pueblo que justificó su conquista de los territorios vecinos argumentando que eran el pueblo elegido y que aquella tierra les había sido prometida por su divinidad.

How about a totally decentralized solution, such as the Tel Aviv–based, blockchain-powered ride-sharing application Commuterz? In that case no one owns the platform, which like Bitcoin is just based on an open-source software protocol that anyone can download. There’s no Commuterz, Inc. taking 25 percent. Instead, users own and trade a native digital currency system that incentivizes them to share rides to reduce traffic congestion and lower the cost of transportation for all.

Radicalement antilaïque et pro-islamiste, le mouvement des Indigènes de la République est né en réaction à la loi sur les signes religieux. Il considère que la France doit « interroger ses lumières » et lutte, selon ses mots, « contre toutes les formes de domination impériale, coloniale et sioniste qui fondent la suprématie blanche à l’échelle internationale »*25. Ses militants défilent régulièrement sous des portraits de Cheikh Yassine, soutiennent ouvertement le Hamas et « totalement la résistance palestinienne ». Un credo réaffirmé pendant l’Intifada des couteaux. Ils ont aussi tweeté une étrange photo prise à Molenbeek le 19 mars 2016. Elle montre un jeune homme défiant d’un air menaçant un cordon de policiers… lequel tente alors de sécuriser l’arrestation de Salah Abdeslam, l’un des terroristes du 13 novembre. En dessous de la photo du jour, en soutien à ce jeune homme menaçant, le Parti des Indigènes de la République a écrit : #Resistance. Le 8 juin de la même année, après un attentat à Tel-Aviv, Aya Ramadan, une autre militante du PIR, a rendu hommage à deux terroristes palestiniens ayant fait quatre morts et cinq blessés en ouvrant le feu sur la terrasse bondée d’un café de Tel-Aviv : « Dignité et fierté ! Bravo aux deux Palestiniens qui ont mené l’opération de résistance à Tel-Aviv. » Un tweet signalé pour « apologie du terrorisme » par la DILCRA, la Délégation interministérielle à la lutte contre le racisme et l’antisémitisme. Les « nouveaux antiracistes » sont surtout… les nouveaux racistes.

And if the fear of terrorism does not sell Israeli militarism, then sexual allure will. The Alpha Gun Girls (AGA) were founded in 2018 by former IDF veteran Orin Julie. A group of scantily-dressed women caressing Israeli military hardware and wearing camouflage, they mirrored a similar gun culture in the US but with a strongly Zionist agenda. Julie’s social media posts were peppered with pro-gun rhetoric and lines like this: “No matter how hard it’ll be WE WILL DEFEND OUR LAND!” At the 2019 Defense, Homeland Security and Cyber Exhibition (ISDEF) in Tel Aviv, the AGA fondled rifles, posed for photos with the adoring crowd, and passed out brochures with their Instagram handles listing bust measurements, shoe and clothing size, and number of followers. A long line of people waited to get autographs. The women are regularly seen posing in deserts, their clothes covered in fake blood.

Upon launching a dual degree program with Tel Aviv University in 2020—the only such program it offers in the region—Columbia University advertised its Israeli counterpart as one that “shares Tel Aviv’s unshakable spirit of openness and innovation—and boasts a campus life as dynamic and pluralistic as the metropolis itself.

You know, Israel could have a peace treaty with Syria and Lebanon tomorrow by giving back the Golan Heights and the Shebaa Farms, and by accepting a two-state solution. Instead, its Dr. Strangeloves are planning out massive bombings of areas thick with innocent civilians and willing to subject Tel Aviv to two months’ worth of rocket fire.

Historians may look back on the Marmara raid as the moment a new order began emerging in the Middle East, grouping Turkey with Iran, Syria, Iraq and Palestine rather than with Washington and Tel Aviv.

quietly into the stairwell. 3 Tel Aviv, Israel The email arrived on the secure system just before midday and played on Eli Zeira’s

9. Những gì diễn ra sau đó là những năm hạnh phúc nhất trong đời họ Họ sống trong một căn nhà tràn ngập ánh nắng có hoa giấy phủ trên mái ở Ramat Gan. Cha tôi trồng một cây ô liu, một cây chanh trong vườn và đào quanh mỗi cây một rãnh nhỏ để nước chảy vào. Ban đêm họ nghe âm nhạc Mỹ qua chiếc đài sóng ngắn của ông. Khi các cửa sổ mở và gió thổi đúng hướng, họ có thể thấy hương vị của biển. Cuối cùng họ làm lễ cưới trên bãi biển ở Tel Aviv, kỳ trăng mật là hai tháng du lịch ở Nam Mỹ. Khi hai người trở về, mẹ tôi bắt đầu dịch sách sang tiếng Anh - ban đầu từ tiếng Tây Ban Nha, rồi sau đó cả từ tiếng Hebrew nữa. Năm năm như thế trôi qua, thế rồi cha tôi được mời một công việc ông không thể từ chối - làm cho một công ty Mỹ trong ngành vũ trụ.

Why is the media here so negative? Why are we in India so embarrassed to recognize our own strengths, our achieve-ments? We are such a great nation. We have so many amazing success stories but we refuse to acknowledge them. Why? We are the first in milk production. We are number one in remote-sensing satellites. We are the second largest producer of wheat. We are the second largest producer of rice. Look at Dr. Sudarshan, he has transferred a tribal village into a self-sustaining, self-driving unit. There are millions of such achievements but our media is only obsessed with the bad news and failures and disasters. I was in Tel Aviv once and I was reading the Israeli newspaper. It was the day after a lot of attacks and bombardments and deaths had taken place. The Hamas had struck. But the front page of the newspaper had a picture of a Jewish gentleman who, in five years, had transformed his desert land into an orchid and a granary. It was this inspiring picture that everyone woke up to. The gory details of killings, bombardments, deaths, were inside in the newspaper, buried among other news. In India we only read about death, sickness, terrorism, crime. Why are we so negative?

The antagonism sparked by Netanyahu, I gradually noticed, resembled that traditionally triggered by the Jews. We were always the ultimate Other—communists in the view of the capitalists and capitalists in communist eyes, nationalists for the cosmopolitans and, for jingoists, the International Jew. So, too, was Netanyahu declaimed as “reckless” by White House sources and incapable of decision making by many Israelis. He was branded intransigent by The New York Times, yet Haaretz faulted him for never taking a stand. Washington insiders assailed him for being out of touch with America, and the Tel Aviv branja—the intellectual elite—snubbed him for being too American. The Israeli right lambasted him for spinelessness, the left for intractability, the Ultra-Orthodox for heresy, and the secular for pandering to rabbis. All agreed in labeling Netanyahu disingenuous, imperious, and paralyzed by paranoia—qualities not uncommon among politicians.

brain and other nerve-related problems such as headaches from concussions, vascular dementia (dementia caused by blood vessel problems in the brain), migraines, Bell’s palsy (a paralysis of the facial nerve), and tinnitus (ringing of the ears). He emphasized he was influenced by research that had been done in Israel on light therapy and the brain. Dr. Shimon Rochkind, a neurosurgeon at Tel Aviv University, originally pioneered work using lasers to treat injuries in the peripheral nervous system, that is, all the nerves in the body except those in the brain and spinal cord. Injury to peripheral nerves can lead to problems sensing or moving.

El Dr. Sergio Ralon es actualmente Jefe de Unidad de la Primera Cirugía de Adultos del Hospital General San Juan de Dios y Profesor titular de Cirugía de la Universidad de San Carlos de Guatemala. Realizo sus estudios de Medicina en la Universidad de San Carlos de Guatemala y post-grado de Cirugía en el Hospital General San Juan de Dios donde fue Jefe de Residentes. Curso el Postgrado de Cirugía General y Cáncer en la Universidad de Tel-Aviv, Israel y Mastología en el Instituto Nacional du Cáncer en Rio de Janeiro, Brasil. Ha sido becado del Colegio Americano de Cirujanos y de la Federación Internacional de Cirugía estudiando en las Universidades de Stanford, Brown, Boston, Harvard y Cardiff en Gales. Realizo el entrenamiento de Cromoendoscopia para diagnostico precoz de cancer gastrico en el Instituto Nacional de Cancer de Tokio, Japon. Ha sido instructor de cirugía de la Universidad Francisco Marroquin y realizo servicio voluntario en el Ejercito Israelí sirviendo en areas de conflicto siendo el unico Guatemalteco en ser nombrado instructor de KAPAP-LOTAR de las fuerzas especiales Israelies. Pertenece a varias asociaciones quirúrgicas nacionales e internacionales, entre ellas la Sociedad Americana de Cirugía Oncológica y la Sociedad internacional de Cirugía, Colegio Americano de Cirujanos, Sociedad Americana de Cirujanos Mamarios, Sociedad Americana de Oncologia Clinica y la Sociedad Americana de Trauma. El Dr. Ralon tiene estudios de Terrorismo y ContraTerrorismo por la Universidad de Leiden en la Haya Holanda y estudios sobre Medio Oriente por la Universidad de Tel-Aviv, Israel

the Office is in Tel Aviv.

Ce n'est pas la première fois qu'un attentat secoue Tel-Aviv, et les secours sont menés au fur et à mesure avec une efficacité grandissante. Mais un attentat reste un attentat. À l'usure, on peut le gérer techniquement, pas humainement. L'émoi et l'effroi ne font pas bon ménage avec le sang-froid. Lorsque l'horreur frappe, c'est toujours le cœur qu'elle vise en premier.

What’s in an Orange? Cuba has encouraged foreign investments in agriculture. The Cuban citrus industry was started during the 1960’s to supply the former Soviet Union, as well as other socialist countries in Eastern Europe, with oranges and grapefruit. After the economic crash and the restructuring of the Soviet Union, the demand for citrus crops fell off by about half. In 1994, the National Citrus Corporation was founded in Cuba, and is now known as the “Fruit Trees Enterprise Group.” It consists of 13 nationally owned citrus enterprises, a commercial company and 4 processing plants. Cítricos Caribe S.A. has three cold storage facilities and exports to contracted foreign vendors. A Chilean venture and a Greek-British consortium, both affected by the decline of demand, halted their operations in 2014. However an Israel company has successfully developed huge citrus and tropical fruit plantations on the island, with most of their crops being sold in Europe. Israeli orange groves stretch for miles in the Matanzas Province, east of Havana. The province known chiefly for its white sandy beaches and resorts also has the massive BM Corporation, based in Tel Aviv, operating huge citrus groves and one of its packinghouses there. Its modern processing factory is located in the middle of 115,000 acres of groves. It is known as the world’s largest citrus operation. Read the award winning bock that is at all the US Military Academies,

In the Tel Aviv study, a group of formerly sedentary rats of varying ages ran on a treadmill for 20 minutes daily for 13 weeks. Another pack of rats was the control group. The control group was allowed to remain sedentary—that is, those rats’ muscles were mainly not used. As you might expect from everything you’ve read so far, the exercisers increased their number of stem muscle cells, with the total increase dependent on age—but not in the way you would expect. The younger rat runners saw an increase of 20 to 35 percent in their stem repair cells. The older rats, however, experienced an even greater proliferation—a 33 to 47 percent increase. That’s right: The percentage increase in stem muscle cells was greater in the older subjects than in the younger ones. On the other hand, the nonexercising rats lost stem cells by lying around, eating and sleeping as they aged.

In 1909 a Jewish town was established on the sand dunes just north of Jaffa—it was called Tel Aviv, the Hebrew for ‘Hill of Spring’. It came to be known as ‘the first all-Jewish city’. The Jewish population of nearby Jaffa, originally about 1,000 strong, had risen by immigration to more than 8,000. As a result, conditions of life in Jaffa had become as crowded and uncomfortable as in the Russian towns from which most of the immigrants had come—sometimes even more so. The new town provided welcome space. It also freed the immigrants from dependence on Arab landlords, who could raise rents at whim.

Love means you are completely helpless and there's nothing you can do about it except duck or plunge. But you can't change it, you can't change the way you feel.

Are you sure? You have to be sure. I'm not saying that to cover myself, or to put the responsibility on your shoulders. It's my responsibility as much as yours. And I know that in a way no one can be sure about anything like this. I just don't know if this is the right thing, and you have to help me.

Etgar Keret, an Israeli novelist, said he had been troubled by some of the terms favored by journalists, politicians and even friends in Tel Aviv. There is no Hebrew word for ‘‘assassination,’’ Mr. Keret said, so killings of Hamas operatives are described with a phrase meaning ‘‘focused obstruction.’’ Instead of ‘‘civilians,’’ he said, slain children and women are sometimes called ‘‘uninvolved.’’ ‘‘There’s something about this ‘uninvolved,’ there’s something passive about it,’’ Mr. Keret said. ‘‘You admit that he is not somebody who is trying to destroy you, but you don’t give him any other identification. It was not a child who wanted to learn how to play the piano,’’ he said, adding, ‘‘it was just somebody who didn’t shoot at us.

Visiting new places and meeting interesting people – even if "What remained after paying the rent for the Tel Aviv flat, which I shared with a roommate, and the tuition at university was close to nothing – it was the experiences that mattered.

Visiting new places and meeting interesting people – even if "What remained after paying the rent for the Tel Aviv flat, which I shared with a roommate, and the tuition at university was close to nothing – it was the experiences that mattered.

Saudi Arabia’s media and schools spew constant anti-Semitic venom, but the Al-Saud regime loathes Tehran much more than Tel Aviv. In Egypt, for all the anti-Israel rhetoric flying from every corner of the political spectrum, the military has made one thing clear: Come what may, the 1979 peace treaty between Egypt and Israel will not be scrapped. Democracy or no democracy, the Egyptian generals will continue to dictate foreign policy, and their priority is not what the masses want but securing the $1.4 billion in military aid they get from America annually.

When we write nowadays that six million perished during the Holocaust, the number is awesome, abstract; it is hard for the mind to comprehend that number, yet each one was a world. Can we fathom what we lost, what the world lost? NOTE: For years only her small group of friends knew about the existence of the poems. Her two close friends, who kept the manuscripts, and her former mathematics teacher from tenth grade, Hersh Segal, got together and published the Anthology - Blütenlese in Rechovot, Israel, in 1976. This privately financed publication reached a larger public and her name and fame spread, but very slowly. A second edition was published by the Diaspora Research Institute, Tel Aviv University, in 1979.

On the strength of a letter from the rabbi, notifying of the date of the marriage ceremony, Yuda received an extra "wedding ration," namely about 4 pounds of sugar, 2 pounds of margarine, about 5 pounds of meat and ten eggs. Aunt Sonia was delighted with the wealth of ingredients and she prepared a meal and two cakes. How about the guests to be invited to the wedding? Yuda had his Father's two brothers and their wives, all living in Tel Aviv, two cousins and their wives, Zaka, Sonia's daughter and an elderly couple, friends of the family, who had known Yuda from his early childhood.

After the ceremony, all of us walked over, about one block, to Sonia's and Nachman's apartment, where Grandmother, who was bed-ridden was anxiously waiting for the young marrieds and the wedding guests. We ate a well-prepared, festive meal and talked and joked. I met Yuda's Tel Aviv family for the first time and we all became acquainted with my two cousins. Mr. Schleien, the cousin from Nahalal, a veteran settler, a farmer, brought as a wedding gift ten eggs. There was no symbolism intended, it was a practical present of a rare and precious food for city dwellers.

Imagine that Israel’s Labor Party invited President Obama to address its Parliament about why Israel should give negotiations on Iran more time, and it was all worked out with the U.S. ambassador in Tel Aviv behind the back of the Likud Party prime minister. A lot of Israelis would see it as an insult to their democratically elected leader. I’ve polled many of my non-Jewish friends, who follow world politics and are sympathetic to Israel, and they really don’t like this. It doesn’t only disrespect our president, it disrespects our system and certain diplomatic boundaries that every foreign leader should respect and usually has. 

The DCS paused to take a sip of his drink. “With twenty minutes to go, Nichols made contact. Free fall. That particular emergency code had been designated as the signal for mission abort. Turns out we’d been walking straight into a trap. At first we thought our informant had sold us down the river, but five days later, the man’s body was dropped off in front of the embassy gates in Tel Aviv, his genitals cut off and stuffed in his mouth.

You know," I said and looked into Uri's eyes for the first time since I'd begun to speak, "after we moved to America, I sometimes dreamed that we still lived in our old apartment in Tel Aviv. I loved Israel, I loved it the way a woman loves her abusive husband but understands that she has to get away from him in order to save her children

Everything that goes on us under God's rule, is penetrated by God's rule, is judged by God's rule, is included in God's rule - every one of my personal thoughts and feelings and actions, yes; but also the stock market in New York, the famine in Sudan , your first grandchild born last night in Atlanta, the poverty in Calcutta, the suicide bombings in Tel Aviv and New York and Baghdad, the abortions in Dallas, the Wednesday-night prayer meetings in Syracuse, the bank mergers being negotiated in Chicago, Mexican migrants picking avocados in California - everything, absolutely everything, large and small: the kingdom of God in which Jesus is king.

While the newly born nation cheered and danced in the streets of the White City, Tel Aviv, the heart of an old nation bled as its eyes brimmed with tears. They feared the worse was still to come.

There was “Paint It Black,” for example, recorded in March 1966, our sixth British number one. Brian Jones, now transformed into a multi-instrumentalist, having “given up playing the guitar,” played sitar. It was a different style to everything I’d done before. Maybe it was the Jew in me. It’s more to me like “Hava Nagila” or some Gypsy lick. Maybe I picked it up from my granddad. It’s definitely on a different curve to everything else. I’d moved around the world a bit. I was no longer strictly a Chicago blues man, had to spread the wings a bit, to come up with melodies and ideas, although I can’t say that we ever played Tel Aviv or Romania. But you start to latch on to different things. With songwriting, it’s a constant experiment.

The Egyptian Expeditionary Force had initially protected the Suez Canal from the Turks. Its first assault on Gaza in March 1917 marked the start of an Allied invasion of enemy territory. In April the entire civilian populations of Jaffa and Tel Aviv were ordered to leave ‘for their own safety’. Beersheba and then Gaza were captured after heavy fighting in late October and early November. Jaffa fell on 16 November. Australian troops who entered Tel Aviv shouted ‘Europe, Europe’. Those victories paved the way for the advance on Jerusalem.

She is tired of dreading the next war in Israel, of living in fear that she and everyone she knows may not survive. That Tel Aviv will be flattened by a shower of Russian-made missiles hurled by Egypt, Jordan, Syria, or Lebanon; or that Saudi Arabia, Oman, Iran, Iraq, Yemen, the United Emirates, or Libya will blacken the Israeli skies with their thousands of airplane bombers. It’s exhausting to always be on alert.

Although Jaffa was almost entirely evacuated, leaving only some 2,000 of its 75,000 residents in the city, the more resilient inhabitants of Lydda and Ramle – the two cities that were also within the boundaries of the Arab state according to the partition plan – had held on. They had armed themselves and were ready to defend their cities against the Jewish fighters. But as the Israeli army rearmed itself that summer and gained in strength, Lydda and Ramle soon realized that they could not stand their ground without help from an Arab army. From May 18 to 28 the 4,500-strong Arab Legion fought a fierce battle for Jerusalem which ended with them in control of the Old City. This gave my father hope. It was a unique instance of an Arab army winning a victory over the new Israeli forces. Disappointment, though, was soon to follow. During the four-week truce from June 11 to July 9 that was arranged by Count Folke Bernadotte, the UN envoy, Israel rearmed with weapons from the USA and the Eastern bloc. Meanwhile, under strong US pressure, Britain stopped supplying arms to Jordan. Then, in the next round of fighting, between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, Glubb decided to withdraw his forces from the area that had been designated part of the Palestinian state under the partition plan. This left the cities of Lydda and Ramle undefended and allowed the Israelis to force the inhabitants to leave at gunpoint.

Around 2 million Jews live in greater New York, and its population is second only to Tel Aviv, which has about 2.5 million.

the Haganah High Command gathered in Tel Aviv. The meeting was led by Yigael Sukenik, a former archaeology student turned soldier, who had changed his name to Yigael Yadin.

The very fact that this interview was published in the liberal daily Haaretz, according to Adi Ophir, professor of philosophy at Tel Aviv University, reflects the growing trend of supporting the transfer and elimination of Palestinians far beyond the traditional base of the extreme Right.

identity. One such Israeli was Sasson Somekh, who left Iraq at the age of seventeen, and who became Professor of Literature at Tel Aviv University and a close friend of the Egyptian writer Naguib Mafouz. An Israeli expert on Arabic literature, he served for three years in Egypt as director of the Israeli Academic Centre in Cairo. Professor Somekh explained why he considered himself an ‘Arab Jew’: ‘An Arab Jew is someone who is immersed, or grew up in, Arab culture, with Arabs, and knows the way of the life.’ When he learned at school of the Arab defeat of the Byzantines and the Persians in the Seventh Century, he ‘would be on their side.’ When he learned of Saladin’s defeat of the Crusaders he ‘was very happy–as an Iraqi, as an Arab.’ He added:

Tel Aviv blocks my photograph, my widget and 10 years work.

Edwin Bleichrodt stands for Dachau and I, with Tel Aviv.

Mon fils, Avinoam Bezalel, est né à Bucarest en 1945. Il a le nom de mon père–et un grand nombre de ses qualités. Le jour de sa naissance coïncidait exactement avec Yom Kipour et, quand j’arrivai au Temple Coral, un messager m’attendait avec la bonne nouvelle. La tradition voulait que le grand rabbin sur le premier à ouvrir l’Arche sainte le jour de Kippour. Et, tandis qu’apparaissaient devant moi les rouleaux de la Torah, le hazzan entonna le texte liturgique qui se termine avec la supplication. « Je te prie, ô mon Dieu, de donner Ta grâce au fils que Tu m’as donné… ». Chaque année, à Kippour, quand je lis ce verset, je remercie Dieu du don inestimable qu'il nous a fait, à ma femme et à moi, en la personne de notre fils. À lui aussi j’ai enseigné personnellement la Bible, le Talmud et la pensée juive. Il devait manifester très tôt son attachement à Maïmonide, qui fut à la fois rabbin et médecin et qui l'influença certainement dans le choix de ses études. Il résolut en effet de devenir médecin pour pouvoir soulager et aider ceux qui souffrent. Il était encore étudiant quand il reçut un prix de l’université de Genève pour un mémoire sur le thème « Médecine et judaïsme », qui fut publié plus tard sous forme de livre à Tel-Aviv, en hébreu et en anglais, et très bien accueilli en Israël, en Europe et en Amérique. Aujourd’hui, Avinoam Bezalel enseigne la neurologie ophtalmologie à Genève et est reconnu comme un des meilleurs spécialistes européens en ce domaine. Autour d’un grand nombre de publications, il est souvent invité à faire des conférences dans des universités d’Europe, des États-Unis et d’Amérique du Sud. Il a épousé Edith Abensur, qui est médecin et descend d’une très ancienne famille sépharade dont les origines remontent à l’Espagne d’avant l’Inquisition. (p. 280–281)

Because Israel is so small it has no real ‘strategic depth’, nowhere to fall back to if its defences are breached, and so militarily it concentrates on trying to ensure no one can get near it. Furthermore, the distance from the West Bank border to Tel Aviv is about 10 miles at its narrowest; from the West Bank ridge, any half decent military could cut Israel in two. Likewise, in the case of the West Bank Israel prevents any group from becoming powerful enough to threaten its existence.

Two years later, the Israeli government announced that it had formalized a collaboration with Facebook’s Tel Aviv office, which—according to Palestinian activists who have regular contact with the company—has jurisdiction over both Israel and the Palestinian territories. They were thus replicating, in virtual space, the occupation of Palestinian land. In a statement about the partnership, Facebook said that “online extremism can only be tackled with a strong partnership between policymakers, civil society, academia and companies, and this is true in Israel and around the world.”27 Facebook’s actions, however, speak louder than its words. When it comes to Palestinian speech, it is only Israelis who have a real say—no matter whether the Israelis involved even believe that Palestinians should have rights. Ayelet Shaked, who served as Israeli justice minister at the time the agreement was formed and was directly involved in dealings with Facebook, has herself engaged in hate speech on the platform. Of Palestinian mothers, she once wrote: “They have to die and their houses should be demolished so that they cannot bear any more terrorists.”28 A paper published by the Haifa-based Palestinian digital rights group 7amleh documented the disparities in how hate speech from Israelis and Palestinians is treated, noting that “Facebook is the main source of violence and incitement online” stemming from Israel.29

Visitors to Mason’s Yard in St. James’s will search in vain for Isherwood Fine Arts. They will, however, find the extraordinary Old Master gallery owned by my dear friend Patrick Matthiesen. A brilliant art historian blessed with an infallible eye, Patrick never would have allowed a misattributed work by Artemisia Gentileschi to languish in his storerooms for nearly a half century. The painting depicted in The Cellist does not exist. If it did, it would look a great deal like the one produced by Artemisia’s father, Orazio, that hangs in the National Gallery of Art in Washington. Like Julian Isherwood and his new managing partner, Sarah Bancroft, the inhabitants of my version of London’s art world are wholly fictitious, as are their sometimes-questionable antics. Their midsummer drinking session at Wiltons Restaurant would have been entirely permissible, as the landmark London eatery briefly reopened its doors before a rise in coronavirus infection rates compelled Prime Minister Boris Johnson to shut down all non-essential businesses. Wherever possible, I tried to adhere to prevailing conditions and government-mandated restrictions. But when necessary, I granted myself the license to tell my story without the crushing weight of the pandemic. I chose Switzerland as the primary setting for The Cellist because life there proceeded largely as normal until November 2020. That said, a private concert and reception at the Kunsthaus Zürich, even for a cause as worthy as democracy, likely could not have taken place in mid-October. I offer my profound apologies to the renowned Janine Jansen for the unflattering comparison to Anna Rolfe. Ms. Jansen is rightly regarded as one of her generation’s finest violinists, and Anna, of course, exists only in my imagination. She was introduced in the second Gabriel Allon novel, The English Assassin, along with Christopher Keller. Martin Landesmann, my committed if deeply flawed Swiss financier, made his debut in The Rembrandt Affair. The story of Gabriel’s blood-soaked duel with the Russian arms dealer Ivan Kharkov is told in Moscow Rules and its sequel, The Defector. Devotees of F. Scott Fitzgerald undoubtedly spotted the luminous line from The Great Gatsby that appears in chapter 32 of The Cellist. For the record, I am well aware that the headquarters of Israel’s secret intelligence service is no longer located on King Saul Boulevard in Tel Aviv. There is no safe house in the historic moshav of Nahalal—at least not one that I am aware of—and Gabriel and his family do not live on Narkiss Street in West Jerusalem. Occasionally, however, they can be spotted at Focaccia on Rabbi Akiva Street, one of my favorite restaurants in Jerusalem.

I just got a call from Tel Aviv.

In my mind, that factory worker now had a face, and his dormitory now had a mattress stuffed with all the cash foreign spies had been paying him in bribes to swap in their spiked encryption chip—the one with the weak crypto that cryptographers back at Fort Meade, or Cheltenham, or Moscow, or Beijing, or Tel Aviv, could easily crack. Or maybe it was the factory worker’s supervisor? Or maybe the C-level execs? Or maybe the CEO himself? Or maybe that factory worker wasn’t bribed, but blackmailed? Or maybe he was a CIA line officer all along?

Israeli lawyer Eitay Mack and Israeli human rights activists filed a freedom of information request in Israel in 2019 to gain documents from the Ministry of Defense about its relationship with Haiti under Duvalier, but their request was denied by the court. Tel Aviv District Court Judge Hagai Brenner, in rejecting the request in February 2021, claimed that releasing the documents could “greatly embarrass the state.

political conditions in Romania.”57 At the end of this multilevel dialogue between authorities, courts, and the plaintiff, Valentina Colien had successfully performed her German Volkszugehörigkeit. She was recognized as an ethnic German after convincing two courts that her entire life in Romania had revolved around her Germanness and that she had left Romania because of this ethnic identity. Even her opposition to the communist regime was supposedly derived from her being German, which for the German court had to be the prime motivation for all her actions. Remarkably, however, Colien’s Jewish background was not discussed or even referred to at any point in this court matter. The only way that it can be understood from the ruling that Colien was Jewish is from the fact that she received Israeli citizenship while in Tel Aviv. As will be discussed below, as the number of Jewish applicants for expellee cards increased, the Jewish faith and its implications for German Volkszugehörigkeit became the object of more explicit controversy.

85 The judges argued that, since the beginning of the twentieth century, Jewish national ideas aimed at the separation of the Jewish and German Volksgruppen had spread widely throughout Bukovina. They based their assessment on a historical opinion by Martin Broszat (the future head of the Munich Institute for Contemporary History) as well as a two-volume German-language history of the Jews of the Bukovina published by historian and publisher Hugo Gold in Tel Aviv in 1962.86 In light of this historical assessment, the court disregarded the applicant’s German education and use of the German language and demanded that Glinert, whom they identified as a “Jew” in the ruling, provide evidence that he did not identify as a Jew in the national sense. With such an approach, religion was clearly not neutral, as it implied ethno-national belonging.

But the true moment of reckoning came on December 6, 2017, when Trump announced plans to move the U.S. embassy from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem, thus recognizing the holy city as Israel’s capital. This was a profound betrayal of Palestinians and a significant break from previous U.S. administrations, which had considered, yet put off, making such a bold move.

I look at the tiny fingers of a newborn baby and try to understand how they could possibly grow into the fingers of a killer. The dead boy is named Jamal Jones. In the newspaper photo, his eyes are as dark as velvet. My boy is named Adam Shuster. His eyes are the color of the sea in Tel Aviv. They say he killed Jamal. But that's not true.