The day before it happened, my son, a historian who lives abroad and is currently visiting Israel, asked me a few questions about the Israeli social protest. I replied and then suddenly blurted out, "Someone desperate is going to set himself on fire. His personal distress will become a symbol of the collective distress." I'm not sure why I said that, except that at that moment the image of Jan Palach floated before my eyes. Palach was a Czech student who set himself and the entire word ablaze in 1969 during a demonstration against Soviet supression of the Prague Spring. I was a philosophy student at the Sorbonne at the time and had befriended a Czech refugee photographer who knew Palach and had been present at the event and later fled to Paris. The fire that Palach set off at the cost of his life did not cause the Soviets to lose any sleep. But, 22 years later, the Soviet Union has ceased to exist while Jan Palach's memory is still alive and kicking. I have no doubt that July 14, 2012 fittingly, Bastille Day, the anniversary of the start of the French Revolution, which was followed by a series of societal revolutions will go down in Israeli social history as a turning point. Israel post-Moshe Silman will not be the same as Israel before. True, every historical act has a personal dimension, but this does not detract from its significance. The personal tragedy does not take away from the meaning and possible consequences of this desperate act. Let's be clear: Israel is not Tunisia, but it could become Tunisia if the human sensitivity displayed by the prime minister, education minister and other government officials Sunday morning does not translate, very soon, into clear-cut and meaningful acts. Only in this way will their personal concern, which is not in doubt, be transformed into genuine social concern. The widening gaps in Israeli society between those who "have it all," and those who feel they have "nothing to lose," the growing extremism in every area of political and social life, and the gaping abyss between government bodies and the little guy, are liable to bring about additional acts of desperation. Self-immolations in the style of Tibet could give way to American-style terror attacks, with blowing up government and national buildings that symbolize humiliation and alienation for ordinary citizens, or even acts of madness, like mass murder-suicides in public places. People who feel they have exhausted all their options and have nothing to lose are capable of anything. Yesterday morning, as doctors struggled desperately to save Moshe Silman's life, and I pray they succeed, I thought of Kafka's protagonist from The Castle, Josef K. Too many people in Israel today experience a Kafkaesque nightmare at the hands of the authorities and their bureaucracy, whether the National Insurance Institute, the Interior Ministry or the police. The feeling of helplessness experienced by Moshe S. pardon, by Josef K. against the government is shared by many others. Josef K. attempted to cope with an unfeeling bureaucracy, and his experience led him to the pits of despair. The only way to prevent such acts of despair is for society to undergo deep cultural and social change. The authorities must understand that they are meant to serve citizens, not the opposite. I hope that Moshe Silman lives to see such substantive, far-reaching change. I hope so for the rest of us too, who believe, in spite of everything, that justice is neither a dirty word or a pipe dream.
