Terror in the market

The Sarona market and shopping complex was supposed to have celebrated its one-year anniversary the day after Wednesday evening's fatal terrorist shooting. But instead of a party, Tel Aviv was teeming with security guards once again. Fear had returned to the big city, and there was a sense that despite all the terrorist attacks the city has seen, the Sarona attack was a step up from anything it had known thus far, including the horrific bombings on Dizengoff Street some 20 years ago. A jam in one of the terrorists' gun, and the alertness of an off-duty police officer who stopped one of the attackers fleeing the scene and prevented a hostage scenario that could have gone on for hours. The awareness of civilians prevented what could have been one of the biggest terrorist incidents Israel has known yet, and it's seen plenty.

"If they'd been walking around with heavier-duty weapons, there would have been at least 50 casualties in the incident," said one employee at Benedict, a restaurant next door to the Max Brenner dessert bar, the scene of the awful killing spree a day and a half ago.

Now, Tel Aviv is back on track with its day-to-day routine. People are breakfasting on scrambled eggs and small lattes. But something is cracked. Tel Aviv was and remains a strong city that doesn't break easily, but there are some terrorist attacks that change the atmosphere. The Sarona shooting demands that we rethink our path.

"The shooter had a calm, frozen expression"

In the year since it opened, the Sarona complex hasn't been a great success. It's as if an evil eye was cast on the place. Tel Avivians tend not to go there, and the weekend visitors from outside the city don't come to do their marketplace shopping. Only a handful of the stores are making a profit, and shops are constantly closing down.

The Tel Aviv-Jaffa Municipality wants to see the market compound get off the ground. The luxury towers that surround it are home to many foreigners. One is Elnor Gasanov, the Norwegian cultural attache, who did not hide his shock at Wednesday evening's attack and was quick to report it to his friends in Oslo: "It happened a meter from my house, but I'm fine. An awful terrorist attack."

The foreign TV outlets that have been making their way to the area to cover the attack each take a characteristic editorial line: The British kept talking about a shooting incident; the Americans talked about escalation that could lead to a war; and the Israeli morning show hosts were forced to deal with locals seeking to take selfies.

Parents of students at a nearby public school said that some children asked to stay home after the shooting, and that there were even parents who wanted to keep their children out of school. In nursery schools and kindergartens, the picture is graver. Police cars are on patrol, the security guards are on alert and the teachers are panicked.

"We thought that after the stabbings [the recent terrorism wave that started in October 2015 that has seen a sharp decline in the past month], we were back to normal, but it looks like we were wrong," says O., a teacher at a nursery school near Sarona. "I don't want to think about what this summer holds for us."

Gali, who was eating at Max Brenner when the shooters opened fire, recalls the moments of terror, which kept her awake the entire night. "The guy was tall. He stood there and looked [around] with his back to the lawn and his face toward Max Brenner and Benedict. He fired shot after shot, waiting and taking careful aim," Gali says.

She describes the events vividly, as if she were still seeing them unfold. "He had a calm, frozen expression on his face. Everyone was running hysterically in every direction. Some rushed into the restaurant and the rest scattered everywhere else, leaving their stuff behind. I left my flip-flops on the ground and ran like crazy, barefoot, toward the Azrieli Mall. I ran all the way down the hill without looking back once, without realizing I was barefoot. Even now, I don't really understand what I did, but I escaped."

"I hope [the shooting] wasn't the final nail in the coffin of this place," says one business owner who was opening his store.

"They tell me that Dizengoff [Street] didn't change after the [Jan. 1, 2016] shooting attack, but this isn't Dizengoff. From now on, places without security won't be able to survive in Tel Aviv. Here, you can come in from anywhere. There's always the thought that there are so many entrances, but only the entrance to the market itself has security. What do we do now-" he asks.

Tal Sharabi, a waiter at Benedict who arrived at work just as the shooting was taking place, is starting the morning shift and the events of the prior evening are still visible on his face. He serves people on auto-pilot.

"I -- that is, we -- have to maintain our routine. We're putting everything back. We got here this morning, cleaned up the bloodstains, cleaned the police markings off the floor, and I hope people will come and not be afraid to leave the house, because this is our routine," Sharabi says.

"There's a terrorist attack every day, anyway. We'll get a hold of ourselves and not let terrorists stop us from living our lives. I won't stay home. I'll go out tonight. What happened here is shocking. A customer here at the restaurant was murdered. The servers who were on shift are still traumatized. They were sweating and silent the entire night. Even their families can barely talk with them.

"Two of our servers took kids who were in the restaurant to a downstairs floor and hid with them there until 11 p.m. We didn't find our hostess until midnight; we couldn't find our team," Sharabi says. Then he stops talking. A young family with a baby enters the restaurant and asks if they can order breakfast.

The morning after the attack, the Palestinian media reported that "Sarona is a symbol of Tel Aviv and a symbol of Israel, and soon it will also be a symbol of terrorist attacks." That hint, which doesn't hide the Palestinian media's glee, corresponds to the mood of the Israel Police.

The police and the Shin Bet security agency have started retracing the steps of the Sarona terrorists, who set out from Yatta, a Hamas stronghold a few miles from Hebron. One theory is that they reached Beersheba, took a taxi to a train station in Tel Aviv, and from there proceeded by foot to Sarona, all the while hiding their guns under their suits. One claim has also been floating around that they had originally tried to enter the indoor market, but when they saw that they would have to undergo a security check, they gave up and stayed outside to eat at Max Brenner.

Avi Naim, head of the Beit Aryeh-Ofarim Local Council in Judea and Samaria and chairman of the security committee at the Foundation of Local Authorities in Israel was quick to send a message to reporters via the WhatsApp messaging app: "When the decision was made to cancel security at restaurants, I argued that it was a mistake, and that the recommendation was shortsighted. Three thousand armed guards who had undergone special training were let go due to a misguided decision by 'experts' on terrorism. That was an immediate loss of an extensive security mechanism of professionally trained, uniformed and armed [guards], who functioned as deterrent and a security influence. That arrangement answered an immediate operational need both in restaurants and on the street, and in effect doubled the manpower of the authorized security forces."

There is no doubt that now, security guards will be reinstated. Business owners agree that they won't wait for any order from the higher-ups, and will have security in place in time for the first soccer games of the UEFA European Championship tournament, which starts Friday evening.

"Wait and see what they're cooking up for the French," says Noam, who works at one of the clothing stores in the outdoor shopping area at Sarona, which is slowly filling up with people. Will Sarona Market wind up turning into a site that the locals patronize out of identification with the victims, seeking to breathe life into the place? Some believe it will.

"Anyone who thinks that the Sarona complex is the only thing that will be hurt by these events has no idea what's going on around him," explains Oren, who owns a business on the adjacent Haarbaa Street.

"Who'll feel like going out now? What tourists will come? All of Tel Aviv is going to be very quiet for the next few days," he says.

Guy, who works at another venue on the same street, says: "You know what was amazing? That the way [the terrorists] looked, they would have gotten in here with no problem. In Tel Aviv, suits get you into any club. People automatically assume you're a tourist. Don't forget, restaurant and bar owners aren't allowed to search people. I want to tell you that with that look, [the terrorists] could have gotten in anywhere they wanted."

"Lieberman needs to put his money where his mouth is"

The familiar faces of the protesters from the Right and the Left trickle in. The morning is of no interest to them; they will wait until the 8 p.m. prime time news to make their point. For now, they have messages for new Defense Minister Avigdor Lieberman: "He should put his money where his mouth is and be a man. Even [radio host and former member of Lieberman's party] Sharon Gal said on the radio just now that if [Lieberman] is weak and doesn't stand by his words, he'll be disappointed. We will, too. After the terrorist attack on Dizengoff, he said, 'What are we waiting for-' So we're asking him: What are we waiting for-"

The terrorist attack ritual is repeating itself almost exactly, even in the middle of Tel Aviv and 50 meters (160 feet) from the Kirya base, the headquarters of the IDF top brass. But the insistence that this attack will change Tel Aviv and possibly even the country refuses to abate. On Ibn Gabirol Street, a little to the west of Sarona, patrol car sirens start to wail. Some people, mainly soldiers who are arriving for another day at the Kirya, are more or less apathetic. Others sneak a look at the market. All along Ibn Gabirol, businesses employ Palestinians working in Israel without permits. Recently, the police have been turning a blind eye given the relative quiet in the city, but now arrests are being made openly and fines are meted out to business owners. The patience of Israel's most tolerant city came to an end when four people were murdered at Sarona.

Michael, who lives in one of the buildings above the Sarona compound, explains that "Tel Aviv can't be killed off so easily."

"We don't yield to anyone, and even [Wednesday] evening, when it was mayhem here, people went back to their lives immediately afterward. I remember the terrorist attack at the Savoy Hotel 40 years ago, and back then, too, people said a line had been crossed, but since then we've seen more and more lines crossed," Michael says.

Eventually, details about the Sarona terrorists start to emerge, and details get mixed up in other details. References are made to the Schalit deal, to a relative of the attackers who also perpetrated a terrorist attack. In the end, this is how it's being summed up: "We need to tear them a new one and burn them alive. Let's see what kind of men they are, Lieberman and Bibi [Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu] and everyone. Go right into the village." These are the words of Ahmed Yusef, an employee at Sarona, whose relatives were enjoying themselves there on the night of the shooting. "All the talking is a waste of time, this is the time for action," Yusef says unequivocally, and a number of people standing behind him express their warm support.

One local woman tries to say that "it's all because of the occupation [of Judea and Samaria]," but it doesn't look like anyone is willing to listen. Things escalated so quickly -- everyone, but everyone, is speaking with a single voice, even in Tel Aviv, the heart of the Israeli opposition to anything that takes place beyond the city's immediate perimeter.

By Thursday afternoon, the heavy heat begins setting in. The general feeling is that the holy month of Ramadan, which began this week, is a harbinger of bad tidings not just for Tel Aviv but for the entire Middle East. In these days of anticipation, messages written on the morning after a terrorist attack can look like ancient history by the time the holiday of Shavuot comes around the following day. It is hard to believe that this holiday will be a joyous one for the residents of this country. Who knows what the coming summer holds in store.

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