Ariel Sharon lived for eight years after his death. The reality is that he was dead, whereas his family and the medical staff at the hospital he was admitted to fought for his life as though he had any chance to recover.
Nothing was less "Arik" (as he was known) than the vegetative state he was reduced to. He was always so active, loving life and all it had to offer, with booming laughter, a sheep on his shoulders and love for every tree in the grove. Then there was the long chapter of his life during which he was, for all intents and purposes, dead.
His life was full of such contradictions. Various testimonies indicate that as a youth, in Moshav Kfar Malal, he was involved in the "hunting season" of Irgun and Lehi fighters, capturing them and turning them over to the British Mandate. As an adult, he denounced those acts.
His fruitful mind conjured original military doctrines. He founded Unit 101, the Israeli army's special forces unit, from which he rose through the ranks to command the Paratroopers Brigade; and along with then-GOC Northern Command's Moshe Dayan, he turned the Israel Defense Forces -- which had degenerated following the 1948 Independence War -- into the best army in the Middle East.
The Battle of Umm Qatef, which he led in 1967 against Egyptian forces, was later showcased in military academies worldwide as a battlefield masterpiece; as was his great success in crossing the Suez Canal during the 1973 Yom Kippur War, an achievement which was diminished by his rivals. But when left to his own devices in leading a military campaign, during the 1982 Lebanon War, he handled it awkwardly and brutishly, all brawn and no brains and in stark contrast to everything the IDF had done up to that point.
Sharon was the first -- and only -- one to force the Israeli Right to close ranks and unite. The Likud was formed because of his own tenacity, but before too long he -- overwhelmed by his own bad temper -- abandoned it for the failed Shlomtzion party; this party, despite winning two seats in the ninth Knesset, was ridiculed and split soon thereafter.
He was materialistic. To him it meant hosting feasts for whoever visited him on his Negev ranch, where huge quantities of popular foods were served with a pinch of poignant cynicism. His eagerness to accumulate material possessions and increase his personal fortune eventually brought with it embarrassing criminal investigations. Eventually, some lame political conduct landed his son, Omri, in prison.
But there was something poetic about him. The man, who was almost killed during the War of Independence, and years later sat in the middle of a boisterous party and described returning from battle that fateful night in the kind of artistic detail that silenced the room, was eventually left an empty shell.
He could be very amicable when he wanted to. Once, about 13 years ago, around 2 a.m., I saw a door open in one of the internal wards at the Sheba Medical Center at Tel Hashomer. A heavy-set, dejected man came out, carrying flowers he had removed from the room, flowers which were making it hard for the patient to breath. That patient was his wife, Lily. It was no act. No pretence in favor of public relations. He had no reason to believe anyone would see him.
At the end of the day, Ariel Sharon's will was almost always realized. He knew how to build a settlement where no one wanted one, and later dismantle it against the majority opinion of his friends. His signature is all over the settlement enterprise in Judea and Samaria, and all over the disengagement from Gush Katif.
History will remember him as a man of complex character and contradictions, and full dedication to his goals. The goal might have radically changed at times, according to circumstance and convenience and with no real connection to ideological loyalties, but his dedication never wavered. That was what he saw at home, growing up, and that is how he lived his life.
Work with what you have
Anti-Semitism is a chronic mental illness. So much so, in fact, that the world has been unable to cure itself of it even after World War II. The indignation expressed by enlightened Western nations over West Bromwich Albion striker Nicolas Anelka's "la quenelle" salute, inspired by his mentor, French comedian Dieudonn M'bala M'bala, was well justified.
Anti-Semites must be fought in every public, educational and political arena, but we must remember that throughout history, Jews had nowhere to run to from foreign fire and were plagued by the curse of exile. But in the long journey that began in the late 19th century and has yet to conclude, an alternative has come about in the land of Israel. It is outcast and vilified -- one writes in his book that the Jewish people do not exist and another added in Haaretz that there is no need to insist on preserving a "Jewish state" -- but this is what we have and we have to work with it, building, rectifying and preserving it with love.
There is, of course, room to warn against the gesture promoted by the anti-Semitic gang flooding Europe and the world, but instead of whining and sitting around pots of meat (Exodus 16:3) -- our gates are open. The Law of Return is in place and there is a national home to realize. Under these conditions, I refuse to be fazed by the likes of Anelka's and Dieudonn , and even by the likes of former Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.
Europe is no longer a trap from which there is neither escape nor alternative. As lyricist Naomi Shemer wrote in the "Visitor's Song," or the song of emigrates, urged to return home: "A green basket, a white flower / red wine, bread with salt / This is what we have / sit with us here."
טעינו? נתקן! אם מצאתם טעות בכתבה, נשמח שתשתפו אותנו