Now that the pandemic is over, a seasonal mental disorder is again attacking Israel. The high-risk population consists of educated members of the "first Israel" class, many of whom have made major contributions to Israeli society and loyally served the state.
Follow Israel Hayom on Facebook and Twitter
For the most part, the virus is latent, with outbreaks sometimes triggered by the media, social networks, and Friday night (or noon) gatherings. The sickness isn't terminal, nor does it require hospitalization; it is not even dangerous, only strange and incurable. The ill usually experience a strange satisfaction during outbreaks. The motivation to become infected is social: if, God forbid, you aren't ill, your privileged friends will accuse you of callousness. As they see it, the worse your symptoms are, the greater your sophistication.
The disorder's core symptoms are feigned depression bemoaning Israel's future fate. The more seriously ill lie about the scope of emigration from the country, hinting at their own intent to leave it, or, at least, lamenting that at their age it is too late to do so. Herzl and Ben-Gurion, it should be said, would roll over in their graves upon hearing these elegies. The outstanding symptom is the identification of a specific failure or serious problem in one field and its generalization – without any sensible basis or sense of proportion – to the condition of Israeli society and talk about the state's grim future.
Essential to this elevated depression is a rejection of any historical perspective or broad comparison that can dim the satisfaction derived from the sense of impending doom. Questioning whether we haven't undergone trials ten times worse is forbidden, as is examining whether the general challenges the state faces (beyond the issue at hand) – despite all our criminal failures – is handled better or worse than in other developed countries.
It would seem that the disorder, though harmful and offensive, is analytically rife with ridiculous exaggerations. Thus, for example, following a temporary recession after a period of impressive growth in the mid-1960s, the elites and media were beset by despair, fearing for Israel's very survival. They would say things like, "The last one to leave the airport should turn out the lights" and speak about the difference between Prime Minister Levi Eshkol and PLO Chairman Ahmad Shukeiri, who "constantly threatens to destroy Israel"; they would repeat the joke about the philatelist who stays in Israel awaiting "the envelope to be printed on the state's final day."
After the failures of the 1973 Yom Kippur War – a justified reason for sadness and disappointment, soul-searching, and taking responsibility – the public reaction got out of hand: many became enamored with horrifying predictions regarding the loss of Israeli resilience and its enemies' frightful build-up. I can personally attest to the elites' head-shaking responses to those who pointed out the Arabs' structural failures and Israel's momentum of renewal and certain success.
Taking a broader perspective, this phenomenon may have a latent function: it is a kind of psychological mechanism to relieve the stress of a society exposed for generations to threats and uncertainty, the way dark humor sometimes assists in processing mourning or coping with understandably intense anxiety. This may explain the frequency of nonsensical talk – particularly among the educated – about the dangers of a dictatorship, the disintegration of social and governmental institutions, and the state's demise.
Their heightened awareness of the true risks Israel faces requires special defense mechanisms; Perhaps this is their way of "whistling in the dark." Maybe they're more deserving of compassion for their anxieties than contempt for their drivel. In some sense, this benign "disorder" inures the elites against the more serious "European" epidemic of helplessness in the face of threats, and against the far worse "Middle Eastern" epidemic of descent into the methods and values of our regional neighbors.
Israel is a robust society. It has been prospering for generations in violent, repellent surroundings. After Operation Protective Edge, for example, more than a thousand families held on to the Gaza envelope, with the area's rural and urban settlements filled to capacity. Despite the unique difficulties of life here, in comparison with other developed countries the rate of emigration from Israel is low, though many Israelis carry European or American passports, speak foreign languages, and specialize in professions that are in high global demand. If some require a bit of hysteria to strengthen the resilience that disproves their expectations, why stand in their way?
Subscribe to Israel Hayom's daily newsletter and never miss our top stories!
