At what moment did the routine of our lives break down? I don't remember. I've lost any sense of time. That's not a metaphor, that's how I actually feel. The events of last week seem like a year ago, and last month seems like another incarnation. We work from day to day, and every night brings a new reality. In the little time I have to myself, I've been looking inward for a surprise. I haven't found one.
I set out for diplomatic service as Israel's ambassador to Italy with an open heart and much curiosity. I would trust in the Lord. No matter what happened, I would do my best for our people and our country. But a pandemic like this, which is disrupting the world order and causing tens of thousands to die, many of them in the country I am in now, never occurred to me.
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On the evening of January 30, I returned from two busy days in Torino. There, I met with local leaders, companies, and leaders of Jewish communities. I also spoke at the inaugural meeting of a new organization called Lawyers for Israel. The next day, January 31, the first two coronavirus carriers in Italy were identified – two Chinese individuals with a major virus.
From February 9-11 I visited Liguria: The port city of Genoa, the Savona province, and the city San Remo, where the state of Israel was born on April 25, 1920. That was where the world powers who were victorious after World War I first divided up the territory that had belonged to the Ottoman Empire. The Arab peoples received most of it, and we were given what was then Palestina. Britain received the mandate to implement the Balfour Declaration in the Land of Israel, east and west. Later, the Mandate divided it and gave the eastern part to the Hashemite family.
We had planned a big event with a lot of participants to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the San Remo conference, to emphasize its historic importance. We returned pleased. On the flight back to Rome, we saw someone wearing a mask. At the airport, flight attendants greeted us and took everyone's temperature. It wasn't anything that made us think twice.
On Feb. 19, a European Champions League match was played in the San Siro Stadium in Milan, where Atalanta from Bergamo faced off against Spain's Valencia. There were 44,000 fans in the stands, 40,000 of whom came from Bergamo – nearly one-third of the city's residents. Later on, the match would become known as a "biological bomb." Chilling.
A few days later, dozens of cases of coronavirus began appearing in Italy. On Feb. 23, a lockdown was announced for 11 towns in the north of the country, which were declared red zones, while the surrounding districts were defined as yellow zones. That same day, an El Al flight from Italy landed in Israel. One of the passengers was diagnosed with corona. The next day, the number of cases in Italy was only 221. Restrictions on public gatherings were enacted, and cultural institutions were closed.
On Feb. 27, Israel announced that anyone arriving from Italy would be required to spend two weeks in self-isolation, sparking a small fracas between the two countries. The Italians were offended. I tried to mediate and calm the situation, and I organized an urgent phone call between the two prime ministers, which did the trick.
The lockdown in Italy was not enough. The number of sick and dead started to spike. About two weeks after the San Siro match, the extent of infection in Bergamo started to become clear. On March 7, the number of sick in Italy exceeded 5,000, and Prime Minister Giuseppe Conte declared Lombardy, whose capital is Milan, and 14 other provinces in the north as red zones. Sixteen million residents were under some type of closure orders.
It didn't help. Actually, thousands returned to central and southern Italy from the north, raising fear about a mass outbreak. Two days later, on March 9, the number of patients stood at 8,000, and all of Italy was declared a red zone and entered a state of emergency. The streets emptied and people had to request travel permits to be out. The number of positive carriers rose to 120,000, and the number of dead was approaching 15,000. There were also almost 20,000 people recovering from the virus.
This is a global war, and Italy has taken most of the fire. My heart is with these wonderful people, who bear their pain and are confronting the pandemic nobly. There are models that could indicate that we are over the worst of it. If only. Along with my intense activity for both countries, I pray for success and a full recovery for everyone.
The Israeli Embassy in Rome is working non-stop, both to maintain Italian-Israeli relations and to reach out to the Jewish communities, which are also counting their sick and their dead. As well as the families of the envoys and diplomats, who also need to maintain some kind of routine while working so hard. Israel's embassies are the vanguard of Israel in the world. Especially now, at the front of the world's war against the pandemic. The Foreign Ministry in Jerusalem is working as our war room in every respect.
Since I arrived in Italy, I've wanted to tell the Israeli people what the embassy does, what the ambassador does. So I started to write posts on my Facebook page under the title "Postcard from Rome." When the corona crisis erupted, the posts started to pile up, and they could be seen as a diary about coronavirus from Rome. Naturally, there are contradictions, which reflect the fact that we learned to handle the situation in the middle of the battle.
Here are a few entries:
Tuesday, Feb. 25
Last Friday, morning began in northeastern Italy with an early spring sunrise. No one seemed to foresee what the future would bring. A few hours later, panic ensued – the virus had appeared in several places, and a few days later, the number of infected is now reaching 250.
The virus is invisible and more lethal than the viruses we know. The mystery and lack of knowledge about it increase fear and panic.
The fear of coronavirus rests on psycho-historical foundations rooted deep in the European psyche. In the 14th century, the Black Plague struck the continent, and in six years wiped out about one-third of its residents. Some researchers call it a plague, while others say it was a virus. Then, too, the plague arrived from the Far East. It upset the existing order and brought social and cultural changes.
In Rome, life goes on almost as usual – almost. But to the north, in Milan, things are different – one public event after another is being canceled. People are avoiding public gatherings. The virus might weaken and fade away – if only! – but it might gain strength, and the situation in Rome will change in an instant.
We in the embassy drilled an emergency situation – who would remain in the embassy, who would stay at home, and who would return to Israel. Some of the envoys here have families and children. We learned from events in China that our Embassy representatives are the last to leave.
Friday, Feb. 28
As the weekend approached the pressure in Italy to stop the spread of the virus increased. Israel decided to bar entry to anyone who had been in Italy in the past two weeks. Israelis were sent to quarantine for two weeks. Unpleasant. We explained to our contacts in the Italian Foreign Ministry and the Italian media that Israel was a nation the size of Lombardy, where life had ground to a standstill, and that Israel was at especially high risk of a rapid outbreak because most of the population is located in the center.
The relations between the two countries are deeper than any passing crisis. They go back to the birth of modern Italy in the mid-19th century when the revival of Italian patriotism and the unification of Italy inspired the hearts of Jews across the continent who wanted to repeat the process and awaken the patriotic core that had been asleep for hundreds of years.
Today I told embassy employees that the crisis was also an opportunity. In biblical Hebrew, the word for "crisis" (mashber) was also the place where a woman gave birth. A crisis can lead to growth and help people find in themselves hidden strength that was just waiting for this moment. Especially now, we need to act as a single body to succeed in carrying the flag for our people and our country and to preserve the special and good ties between the two nations.
Life here in Rome goes on as usual. Yesterday, I was at a Jewish high school here and gave a lecture to the graduating class on Israel, the history of our people, San Remo and Zionism, the old and new forms of anti-Semitism, and about Israel as the home of all the Jews in the world. Last night, I visited the home of the Japanese ambassador to mark the birthday of Japan's new emperor. In a little while, I'll go to the Egyptian Embassy to sign a book of condolence for the death of former leader Hosni Mubarak.
My beloved eldest son was supposed to have arrived for the weekend to celebrate his 17th birthday, which falls today, the 3rd of Adar. I remember when I was summoned to the hospital because his mother was about to give birth. I polished my shoes, like they do in the army before a mission. I wanted to look decent for our first meeting. I miss him and his sisters. But his flight was canceled. I'm so sorry.
Sunday, March 1
This weekend, I prayed at two different synagogues, once in the evening and another in the morning. I'm trying to get to more communities. The Jews are worried, they feel that the family has locked them out. They asked me to make a sermon. I explained the background to Israel's decision and added that from Israel, the situation in Italy appeared worse than we were feeling it, and that was natural. Panic can't be soothed through words alone. Oversight of those entering and leaving aimed to create calm and prevent the spread of the virus in Israel.
When Shabbat was over, the president of the Roman Jewish community called me and told me that ritual slaughterers from Israel would not be coming, which might create a shortage of kosher meat. Worse, rabbis from the Israeli rabbinical court were not coming, which had held up writs of divorce and conversions in the community.
I called Rabbi Lau, the chief rabbi of Israel, and spoke with him. He agreed to help. He promised to come visit the community when it was possible. I also asked other Israeli ambassadors in Europe if there were slaughterers in their communities who could help fill the need. A few were found.
The Union of Italian Jewish Communities asked me to write a message to the Jews that would help calm them. Among other things, I wrote, "We in the Israeli Embassy have not left Italy. We are with you all the time, checking to see that you are well and if you have any requests. We will try to help as much as we can. We will get through this together…
"Israel has not stopped being the Jewish state. It has briefly sealed the room to prevent infection, but it has not closed the house or ended its responsibility to our brothers and sisters, the people of Israel, wherever they are. The state of Israel is committed to your welfare and security in every single community, and the moment we can remove the restrictions, we will do so immediately. You are welcome to contact the embassy and tell us about the situation and how people are feeling where you are."
Friday, March 6
Italy has slowed its life pulse. In Rome, they are trying to walk a fine line between normalcy and fear. The heavy shadow of the north, which is making its way toward us, is hanging over the city. We are active on a few fronts. Last week, when the outrage was aimed at Israel only, I realized that we had to stop the snowball and I worked to organize a conversation between the two prime ministers. I'll remember that conversation as a great lesson in diplomacy.
The crisis is causing problems. For example, an Italian citizen who lives in Brussels and works as an attorney with EU institutions flew to Israel. One of the passport officials at Ben-Gurion Airport decided he was lying about where he lived and sent him back to the plane, which brought him to Rome. That set off a minor diplomat fuss. Just what we needed.
My deputy, Ofra Farhi, found him at a hotel in Rome. He was a nice, gentle man, who showed her his valid papers. I didn't understand what had happened to set off the immigration official in Israel. News agencies were already starting to fixate on the story.
The Foreign Ministry has no money to pay for the man's hotel stay. (Treasury functionaries went so far as to say that the Foreign Ministry are exploiting the corona crisis. Oh, the disgrace.) This problem didn't occur because of the ministry. Other government ministries said the accountant general wouldn't approve the expense. So Ofra and I paid his hotel bill. Later, we invited him to the embassy and gave him a nice bottle of wine as a present. His tweets became conciliatory. We are trying to get him a ticket to Israel as compensation, after the epidemic is over.
We aren't neglecting the Jewish communities. Suddenly, they cannot hop on a plane and be in Israel. A few months ago in my speech to the Italian Senate about the new anti-Semitism, I explained that Israel was an "insurance policy" for the Jews of the world. And now that policy is harder to cash in.
We have a responsibility to our brothers and sisters who live outside our land. I repeated to everyone that Israel had not left the Jews of the world, or the Jews of Italy. It was temporary, and we at the embassy were with them, and we would get through the crisis together.
There were also happy events. Yesterday, I presented a medal on behalf of Yad Vashem to a Righteous Among the Nations, a 95-year-old woman whose family had saved Roman Jews. We were moved to tears. The woman didn't speak, and I didn't know if she understood what was being said, even though I spoke in Italian. On a piano that happened to be there, I played her Hannah Szenes's "A Walk to Caesarea."
Because the nursery schools are closed, we decided to open one for the children of the Israeli emissaries at the embassy. I like to hear the sounds of children playing. Today at the staff meeting I said it reminded me of the prophecy in Zechariah: "Old men and old women shall again sit in the streets of Jerusalem, each with staff in hand because of great age. And the streets of the city shall be full of boys and girls playing in its streets." (Zechariah 8:4-5)
My children are in Israel, and I can't visit them. I thought they would come to me for Passover, but it doesn't look like things will calm down by them. I hope I'm wrong. So I try and get hold of them for a talk. I'm not always their top priority, and my youngest daughter can't talk to me on Skype because the computer is broken. I am left missing them.
Sunday, March 8
During the night, the status of areas of Italy changed. Strict instructions were applied to another region, but it still isn't under lockdown. There are 16 million people there, in an area much larger than Israel that includes Lombardy and 14 other districts. There is immense difficulty in declaring a closure on the economic and industrial heart of Italy, so it isn't a full lockdown.
Representatives of the port in the city of Ravenna asked us to intervene because the Israeli port workers were refusing to unload cargo ships that had docked in Italian ports. We looked into it. It turns out that our port workers didn't want to come into contact with the ships' crews. It was agreed that the crews would remain inside their berths, and the Israeli workers would unload the cargo themselves. Israel needs the supply ships.
I talked with the managers of the Ravenna port. I mentioned that Israel had blood ties to Ravenna because soldiers from the Jewish Brigade who had come from the Land of Israel during World War II to free Italy from Nazi rule were buried there. I promised to attend a ceremony there, on my way to visit the port. They were moved by the gesture made amid the economic and medical pressure, and said it would be an honor for them to host Israel's representative.
Today, the embassy opened especially for the children of the emissaries. The rooms were decorated, and we set up game stand, a sort of Purim market. The charming kids arrived in costume, and we were able to make them happy. They visited my office, where I was sitting dressed as Ahasuerus, and I gave them Purim baskets. Then they gathered in the courtyard, and I told them the Purism story, with current event context.
I told the parents that one of our sages of the Middle Ages, whoever compiled the Chinuch, taught us a great rule: "Deeds shape the heart." To avoid giving into a difficult emotional situation, we can do things to make ourselves happy, just like what we just did for the children.
Monday, March 9
I went to the Great Synagogue of Rome for the reading of the Book of Esther. The place, which would ordinarily have been packed full with hundreds of congregants, was marked out in tape to ensure space of one meter between worshippers. Only a few came in. The guards were wearing gloves and masks, and not the Purim kind. Celebrations in the shadow of an epidemic.
The music and the words were the Roman version. Amid the notes, I heard the ancient melody of the prisoners of Judea and Jerusalem who had been brought here almost 2,000 years ago. An ancient community that is now dealing with an economic crisis that will get worse.
I wanted encouragement, and this verse came to mind: "or the choirmaster. To the tune of 'The Doe of the Dawn.' A Psalm of David." Our rabbis ascribed the tune to Queen Esther, who like the star (doe) of the dawn symbolized the end of the dark even as it was still there, the medicine before the illness, the redemptive understanding that deep within the blow itself waits for salvation.
Tuesday, March 10
When Purim Eve started here last night, the news broadcasts opened with an announcement from Prime Minister Conte, declaring all Italy a red zone. That order means refraining from all movement, inside cities or between them, and certainly from one province to another, except in emergencies. The Jewish community announced that all synagogues would be closed. Weddings and funerals would take place with only a few participants.
I told my security detail that I wanted to venture out into the city and see the situation for myself. I saw the famous tourist sites completely empty. "The roads to Rome mourn, for none come to the festival." In the plaza of the Colosseum, there were mostly police motorcycles. I looked at the structure's high stone walls, and when I turned to go back, I saw it. The Arch of Titus.
What was the arch telling me? "Do you remember what happened here? Your fathers passed through me, humiliated, and supposedly history had sentenced them to vanish under it, defeated. But after 2,000 years of exile, the arch of humiliation became an arch of victory. The prisoners of Judea returned to Jerusalem. There is hope for our future. Remember this, even as you read the growing numbers from the plague."
I went back to the embassy. We started working on an emergency protocol. Only employees in vital positions would come in, and everyone else would work from home. There are still visitors to the consular wing who want visas, to renew their passports, or evacuate to Israel. A few. We collected donations from the emissaries to help needy families whose income had been hurt by the situation. I prepared Purim gifts that included bottles of Israeli wine. Later, I called everyone into the conference room and read the Scroll of Esther. My late father, Shmuel, was the chief cantor in the synagogue in the Amishav neighborhood of Petah Tikva, where I grew up. For years, I listened to him and I was proud of him. When he could no longer do it, I took his place.
The Book of Esther tells the story of a diplomat (Mordechai) and a beautiful spy (Esther), who saved their people with great resourcefulness after uniting everyone behind them (or the majority, anyway). It's a story about a historic moment of despair that turned into a great salvation. A story about faith in the time of cholera, or love in the time of corona. We "beat" Haman, but we meant corona.
Tuesday, March 13
Yesterday Italy moved to a state of heightened emergency. The few restaurants and cafes that were still open closed under a government order. Anyone caught outside must provide an explanation. This is the only way to stop the spread of the virus.
Lombardy is desperate for ventilators. I talked with the provincial governor: they need 400. I tried to help, but Israel doesn't even have enough for itself.
The Migal Galilee Research Institute reached out. They developed a vaccine for coronavirus in birds, and are trying to adapt it for use on people. I connected them to potential investors. Let's hope for the best.
The situation is very problematic in the Jewish community. Families are in financial collapse. Morale is down. I spoke with community leaders: they need first aid urgently, and expect Israel to help. The Jewish state was founded for that purpose, as well. I spoke with Diaspora Affairs Minister Tzipi Hotovely. She promised to bring the issue up at a cabinet meeting.
There are Jewish families who want to come to Israel and hide out there until the storm passes. They have homes in Israel. We tried to help, but Israel's borders are closed to anyone who is not a citizen.
Israelis are calling the embassy, not always to ask for something, but sometimes just to talk. The women in the consular department have turned into ad hoc psychologists. Good for them.
I gets updates on what is happening at Israel's other embassies throughout the world, and see how the Foreign Ministry in Jerusalem is handling the crisis. Amazing. This is our foreign service's time to shine.
What about me? I don't have time to hold deep conversations with myself. My gaze is always turned outward. I wonder at my own spiritual calm. I'm not afraid, thank God. I'm happy in my mission.
I miss my children unbearably. My heart skips a few beats every time I talk to them, especially little Daria (this week she had a sty in her eye, just when she was supposed to dress up….) I try to read and write, and listen to history lectures and old sketches by the Gashash troupe.
I'm optimistic. All of humanity has enlisted to repel the invader. It plants hope that after the fighting dies down, we are the children of the same father and mother.
Sunday, March 15
I'm moved to tears. What beautiful support for Italy and the suffering Italian people from Israel. We expanded my deputy Ofra's idea for Tel Aviv to other cities.
I spoke with Israeli mayors and told them about the situation and asked for support that would lift the Italians' morale, if they would light their buildings in the colors of the Italian flag, red, white, and green. They agreed. Jerusalem lit up its walls, Tel Aviv and Petah Tikva lit their municipal buildings, Netanyahu lit up its stadium and Beersheba illuminated its shopping mall.
The Italians were highly excited, too. Jews sent me messages: "This public support makes us proud to be Jews." Me too.
The disease is devouring us here, so it's important to uplift the spirits of this wonderful people, especially when it comes from Israel. Salvation is built partly on these gestures of kindness and support between people. I devoted a post in Italian to every one of these Israeli cities, and we posted impressive pictures of the show of support. I ended with "Long live Italy! Long live Israel!"
Here is a short part of what I wrote about Jerusalem: "Zion will give us not only the Torah, but also prayer and healing. Do not fear! We are with you! Together we will defeat this plague. Soon we will all see better days!"
About Tel Aviv: "Tel Aviv, the first Hebrew city, the city that never stops, that even in hard times knew how to make Israelis happy, now wants to encourage and embrace the Italian people … Tel Aviv is twinned with Milan, which is on the front lines of the battle against the epidemic, and it also sends a blessing of strength."
Petah Tikva: "Petah Tikva, the city of my birth, was the first Jewish independent community established in the Land of Israel in the new era, in 1878. The land on which Petah Tikva was built was full of swamps and malaria, but the pioneers defeated the disease. The spiritual force that built Petah Tikva sends a great blessing of strength and support."
Monday, March 16
The morbidity and mortality figures rose today, as well. The numbers are heart-wrenching. Italy is suffering. I'm trying to serve as a go-between for scientists who contacted me and the Italians. They have ideas that create hope. They're trying to cheer up the Italians, too.
The responses to the initiative in Jerusalem, Tel Aviv, and Petah Tikva were moving. They appeared in news broadcasts, in newspapers, and on social media. Today Netanya joined the circle of support, lighting up its stadium and adding signs throughout the city, as well as Italian flags along the coastal highway. This is what I wrote about the city: "The city of Netanya, capital of the Sharon, was established on the beach of the Mediterranean in 1929 … it was a city of citrus groves, and later it became Israel's diamond capital … Netanya sends an embrace of love and support for Italy and the Italian people, and lights up its new soccer stadium in honor of Italian soccer, which is currently on hold."
Thursday, March 19
The sorrow is heart wrenching. As the Israeli ambassador, I receive messages and letters from people all over Italy. One dear woman from Bergamo wrote to me in desperation. I called her and she cried, and I cried with her. "Hello, Mr. Ambassador. I'm so sorry to bother you. I'm in Bergamo. The situation is desperate, hundreds of people are dying each day. Doctors and nurses and ambulance drivers are sick. The system is collapsing. We need help. We can't bury our dead. Coffins are piling up, and we're out of protective gear. Is there any way you can help us? Orders from China take at least two weeks to arrive, and no one else can supply anything. Doctors are working with their faces exposed, and get sick. There are no gloves or coveralls. I'm a desperate citizen, I have close friends who work in hospitals and friends who work in supply management. I volunteer, see people dying, see helpless doctors dying. A hundred general practitioners are sick, in serious condition.
"I had cancer and my system is weak. If I fall ill, they won't be able to treat me because they have to decide whom to treat, and prefer the ones who will survive. Every hospital bed is occupied, and the hallways are full. If I get sick, I can call emergency services only if I can't breathe.
"Today I taught an online class to my students at the University of Bergamo, and I really don't know what to tell them. I need to motivate and encourage them, but I have no words. Is there any way to send in supplies on military aircraft? A humanitarian mission? The civil defense is doing its best, but this wave was unexpected, and the violence of the virus couldn't have been predicted. We're alone. We feel alone."
Shabbat, March 21
The testimony from Bergamo reached good people, who wanted to help. The embassy is trying to put them in touch with the right places. We are working to connect Israeli scientists from the Israel Institute of Biological Research in Nes Ziona and Israeli hospitals with scientists and doctors in Italy to find a possible solution for the seriously ill. We got a positive response from the authorities here, and I'm working to connect all the dots. It's complicated. We have the possibility of saving lives, and I don't intend to give up.
A week or so ago, when the governor of Lombardy, Attilio Fontana, called and told me about the severe shortage of ventilators, equipment, and medical personnel, I asked him if he'd appealed to NATO. Italy has a defense agreement with NATO, and the organization's bases are located on Italian soil. They should open their emergency warehouses and start unloading supplies. The governor said he hadn't thought of that. I sold other officials on the same idea.
A month and a half ago I was invited to visit the Ferrari factory in Maranello. It's an amazing factory, in which thought and creativity were invested, and it manufactures the luxury cars of the world auto industry. I told Governor Fontana that during World War II, when there was a shortage of airplanes, the American government reached out to the private sector and asked them to help with the effort. "Call Ferrari and ask them to help make ventilators," I said. "It will be a lot easier than making Ferraris." I sold other political officials on that idea, too, as well as the media. Yesterday I learned that the auto manufacturer FCA and Ferrari were in contact with Italy's largest ventilator manufacturer, SIARE, to help manufacture the machines.
Since last week, the embassy has been helping to organize two flights, one from Rome and one from Milan, to bring Israelis home. My deputy worked on the matter with CEO of Israir Uri Sirkis, who takes action even when it doesn't make financial sense, and Dr. Nirit Ofir, who set up a hotline to help Israelis all over the world and who is the force behind the mission.
Because of coronavirus, the operation is complicated and requires special logistic arrangements, including opening airports, securing special permits, protective suits, and disinfecting the aircraft. That's why there are embassies. Our devoted consul, Eitan Avraham, and his people are taking care of many Israelis who are stuck in Italy, and his wife, Bella, is serving as the closest thing to a psychologist for the people who are call the embassy and say they're afraid because of the situation.
On the way, I heard that the Finance Ministry intended to reduce the Foreign Ministry's work to 30%. It's unbelievable. We are in a world war, and the Foreign Ministry is on the front lines. The Treasury functionaries don't realize what's happening here. I called the Finance Ministry and told them what we were going through, and I read them the testimony from Bergamo. Israeli ambassadors in the world have been operating without funds and budgets for a year already, but this is a blow to the war effort. What insularity. And we don't have time to fight about it, because what are the rights of the Foreign Ministry workers when we are in the middle of a risk to our lives and saving lives?
On Shabbat, I read the weekly Torah portion at home, as well as the monthly portion (Exodus 12), which reminded me that the Hebrew month of Nisan is approaching. Spring is here, Passover is coming, and we need to exert ourselves spiritually to rejoice. In that same famous chapter of Exodus, the Jews are commanded to stay at home during the killing of the first born and not leave until the plague is over. "None of you shall go out of the door of your house until morning." (Exodus 12:22) Our commentators explained that plagues did not distinguish between the righteous and the evil. We are all exposed to the plague, and humanity must join hands to battle the invader. In the end, dawn will break, and we will all go out of Egypt, and leave these straits. Have patience.
Tuesday, March 24
The Italian government has issued stricter emergency orders, and the lockdown is being stringently enforced. There might be signs that it is working. For two days, the numbers have been dropping. We will pray. At the same time, we are trying to get test tubes containing the blood of corona patients who were seriously ill but recovered, meaning they developed antibodies to the virus, to the Institute of Biological Research in Nes Ziona. People there are convinced that they can create a vaccine in under a year.
I am knocking on every possible door in the Italian government to promote plasma donation. These initiatives are being held up because of logistical and bureaucratic difficulties. I don't intend to give up. I have told my Italian counterparts that Jewish sages taught that "he who saves one life, it as if he has saved an entire world," and that in light of this categorical imperative, I was not operating as a diplomat, but as a human being.
As a result of my "postcards" and interviews to the Israeli media, various entities have reached out to us with proposals. We are looking into them and reaching out to the appropriate authorities in an attempt to interest them. This is the time for Israel's creative minds to work on behalf of humanity and come up with inventions, like they already have in various fields. Families at home, factories that are having trouble operating, agriculture, water, civil defense, digital medical that doesn't require patients to come to the hospital, and many, many more developments.
Yesterday, two flights departed from Rome and Milan to return hundreds of Israelis home. A day earlier, intercity travel restrictions were tightened and we needed to get the authorities to issue hundreds of travel permits.
For example, an Israeli working on a merchant marine vessel arrived in Genoa but was not allowed to disembark until he was tested. He might have missed the flight out of Milan. His family in Israel contacted us, and our consul, Eitan, got involved. "I'm not giving up," he told me. "We'll get the guy released to go home." That's what happened. My deputy Ofra kept abreast of the travelers through an Israeli student who compiled a manifest, including phone calls to calm them down. Simultaneously, we continue to bolster the Italians. This week, the city of Ashdod joined the wave of support. They produced a nice film with subtitles in Italian.
On a personal note, I am trying to remain in a good mood. I don't always manage to. I need to be strong for everyone. I miss my children very much. My oldest daughter is in self-isolation because she might have been exposed to the virus. The last time I visited Israel (which seems like another lifetime ago), my middle daughter, Ivria, gave me a silver spiral rubber bracelet and asked me to wear it. At first it amused me, but then the corona hit us, along with my distance from my children in Israel. The rubber bracelet stays on my wrist as a sign and a constant reminder.
Last night, little Daria asked me on Skype, "Dad, when will we see you?" What should I tell her? In the meantime, we've started reading Dr. Doolittle together. Yesterday, we read the chapter about a serious plague that spread through the land of the monkeys. Dr. Doolittle and the animals went out to save the sick monkeys. First, he separated the sick ones and inoculated the healthy ones. To treat the sick, he needed a large medical team, so he enlisted the animals of the forest, who demonstrated animal unity with the monkeys. How relevant.
Sunday, March 29
On Friday I sat in my office and took part in a staff meeting via video. At certain moments I couldn't hear the others well, and then I raised my eyes and noticed that the noise that had been disturbing us was birds chirping noisily. Look outside, they were telling me, spring is almost here. Indeed, the month of Nisan had arrived the previous day, a reminder that soon we would be free. If only. Before that, we must undergo a very long wakeful night.
Very soon, we in Italy will have 100,000 corona cases. Saturday saw the largest number of deaths in a single day thus far: 919. The virus is eating its way through some places without stopping. Young people as well as the elderly are harmed, if not as many. In Bergamo the general practitioners are reporting that about 1,800 people in their 30s are ill with pneumonia as a result of coronavirus. Right now, there are thousands of patients there in need of intensive care. Doctors have to decide whom to treat. One doctor told me, "We're desperate. We have to choose whom to save and whom not to. It's inhumane. A person shouldn't decide who lives and who dies."
For three days, the number of new cases dropped, leading to cautious optimism, but last night the number of dead rose again. We've learned that is the nature of the epidemic. Nevertheless, experts are saying that it is trending toward stability. The town of Codogno, one of the first places to see an outbreak, was under lockdown for five weeks. This week, 33 days after lockdown was declared, no new cases were reported.
The Foreign Ministry is looking for medical equipment for Israel, especially ventilators. I'm trying to help. In the past few days I've connected the Defense Ministry to possible sources in Italy and other countries. Let's hope we don't need them, but we have to be ready.
Last Friday I organized a call between the Israeli and Italian prime ministers. They exchanged information about the corona crisis. Israel is learning because Italy was already at the stage Israel is at now, and has practical experience. Prime Minister Netanyahu asked that that the matter of blood samples from serious corona cases who recovered be moved ahead in order to help the Institute of Biological Research develop a vaccine. Of course, Italy would also benefit from the vaccine. Prime Minister Conte promised to help.
We are calling the Jewish communities, as well as friends in the friendship associations. Last night I spoke on the phone with members of the Israel-Italy Friendship Association in Palermo, Sicily. They were very excited. They are under lockdown at home and working from there. They are in good spirits. I promised to visit them after we defeat the pandemic. I am trying to answer everyone, even personal appeals, but can't manage it.
My mood is reasonable, sometimes up and sometimes sad. My job demands that I serve as an echo chamber for reality, and that is very complicated emotionally.
My oldest daughter is out of isolation. Little Daria and I have gotten farther along in the story of Doolittle the doctor, who has managed in the meantime to bring an enormous flock of swallows to his ship, as well as defeat pirates by using seals. I miss them.
In honor of the month of Nisan and the upcoming Passover holiday, I went back to the Tractate Pesachim. "On the fourteenth of Nisan, they search for hametz by the light of a candle." I try to learn a page or two each day. It's comforting and gives me strength.
The increased focus on medicine brought me back to Michel Foucault's book The Birth of the Clinic: An Archeology of Medical Perception. It's a disturbing book, which tries to undermines the solid image of scientific knowledge and how it is gathered. Especially now, when humanity feels helpless in the face of an invisible invader and is trying to collect information about it while under fire. I wondered if this virus is causing us to distance ourselves from each other, but the distance itself causes us to value contact and the simple closeness between us all. How we need that right now. Ordinarily celebrations. I hope we'll remember that when this is over.
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These are a few of the chapters of corona I've published. If you want to read them all (in Hebrew), go to my Facebook page. I've often quoted the poet Nathan Alterman, who knew how to strengthen and comfort the public. During World War II, when Europe was occupied and the Land of Israel was in great danger, Alterman wrote in "Joy of the Poor": "Salvation is coming, my daughter/ Great! Complete! We will see it! . Even though it destroy my life / I did not say, it is lost and is not / I merely said, the day will come, my daughter / Trouble will be over, and your eyes will see it!" Amen.
It looks like I will be celebrating seder alone, far from my loved ones, but there is hope. The numbers in Italy show that the rate of infection has slowed. And the end of this long wakeful night, Italy and Israel, along with the rest of humanity, will go free.
I'm done. Hugs from Rome.
