SLA families: an Israeli obligation | היום

SLA families: an Israeli obligation

Tal Hajaj, 14, a young girl from Tiberias, began a hunger strike in front of the Knesset building last week. She launched the strike to shed light on her family’s dire financial situation, which borders on starvation. No, this is not a protest about the middle class that can’t make ends meet, nor is it about the population in poverty. This is about a Lebanese family who fled the country a little more than a decade ago, when Hajaj was only two. Her father, a fighter in the South Lebanon Army, found shelter for his family in Israel when the IDF pulled out of the security zone in May 2000.

SLA soldiers had their world turned up side down with the IDF’s retreat. Overnight they found themselves without roofs over their heads, jobless, in some cases without their family or homeland. They began fleeing towards the Israeli border, knowing that staying in Lebanon would mean death or a long stint in jail. Nearly 8,000 SLA members moved to Israel that year. Since then many have gone on to Germany, the U.S., Canada and Australia, and some have even returned to Lebanon and paid the price.

Around 700 SLA families, Christians, Druze and Muslims, stayed and now live in Israel. They reside primarily in the northern cities Nahariya, Tiberias, Haifa, Kiryat Shmona and Maalot. The 250 families of senior SLA officers are under the care of the Defense Ministry and have been given first-class treatment and high-priority care. The other 450 families, of lower-level officers and soldiers, were placed under the care of the Absorption Ministry and are managed by Minister Without Portfolio Yossi Peled.

The gap between the generations shows both the SLA’s success and its failure in integrating with Israeli society. The young people of the second generation have successfully managed to merge with Israeli society; they study, work, network and lead normal lives. Their parents are those who have difficulties integrating and as result experience financial and social hardship. Many were soldiers for their whole lives before moving to Israel, and did not acquire any other profession. Many arrived in Israel when they in their 40s and 50s, a fact that sheds some light on their difficulty to attain well paying careers, let alone consistent employment.

I visited Tal Hajaj on Friday. I arrived in the pouring Jerusalem rain to show my support and to motivate her. The girl I met was a typical Israeli teen, a pupil of the Betar movement. Sitting beside her was an activist who presented himself as a member of the “situation room” of last summer’s social protests. He also came to support Hajaj, although he lamented that his 14-year-old daughter might find herself in the same situation if “the situation in this country continues.” Throughout the summer’s social protest I did not hear a single word uttered about ethical topics such as the SLA soldiers. Hajaj’s struggle, first and foremost for financial aid, is a moral fight for Israeli society as a whole. Listening to the morning news and hearing cries to help illegal immigrants, economic migrants, and falsely named “fugitives,” there is no doubt in my mind that we should first take care of the SLA families. If there are real fugitives in Israel, it’s them. They may have Israeli citizenship, but there are many among them who still have not managed to live ordinary lives, and instead live in poverty bordering on starvation,. We cannot let that happen.

Israel’s loyalty and promises made to those who work alongside it, even if for Israel’s own interest, morally obligates us to care for them as a society and as a government. As a small country and a tiny nation surrounded by millions who want to see us wiped off the map, it is our duty to show that Israel knows how to stand side by side with its allies in the Middle East and does not abandon them when they sit beside us after their job is done.

The author of this op-ed is the spokesperson of the Im Tirtzu ["If you will it"] movement.

טעינו? נתקן! אם מצאתם טעות בכתבה, נשמח שתשתפו אותנו