By Jim Denison
How do we cope with a “war on terror” that seems to have no end?
Time magazine called 2010 “the year of microterrorism.” The Department of Homeland Security stated last May that “the number and pace of attempted attacks against the United States over the past nine months have surpassed the number of attempts during any other previous one-year period.”
Attacks on Russian territory doubled in 2010. At this writing, British authorities have raised their threat level to “severe,” warning of a possible strike targeting London’s subway stations and airports. Meanwhile, the death toll from a New Year’s Day bombing outside a Coptic Christian church in Cairo has reportedly risen to 23.
Al Qaeda’s new webzine is called Inspire. An essay describes “Operation Hemorrhage,” the printer-cartridge attack on a UPS plane last October; total cost was $4,200. We are told to expect more such attacks this year.
I just returned from another study tour of Israel, and will be leaving again for the Holy Land in seven weeks. The threat of terrorism was made clear before we left American soil: nearly 400 full-body scanners have been installed in 68 U.S. airports, including each of the 25 busiest airports. They cost $150,000 to $180,000 apiece.
The government expects to spend $173 million on them, with 1,000 scanners installed by the end of 2011. They are used in place of metal detectors. We can refuse, but we then face the new pat-down which tries to find explosives hidden in areas where screeners did not previously touch passengers.
This threat has no apparent end in sight. We have been fighting in Afghanistan longer than any war in our nation’s history. More than 6,000 American combat troops have died in Iraq and Afghanistan; we have spent more than $1 trillion in those two countries since 2001.
However, my travels in the Middle East reminded me that terrorism has been a daily fact in Israel far longer than in America. The day after we left, Israel launched air strikes in Gaza. The Israeli Defense Forces described the action as a “response to rocket fire overnight.”
The IDF website states that 10 rockets and mortar shells have been launched into southern Israel during the first week of 2011.
How do the people of Israel deal with persistent threats to their future?
First, their nation maintains remarkable vigilance. Airport security is much tighter in their country; military service is required of all Israeli youth when they turn 18 or finish the 12th grade. Traveling through the West Bank, we passed through numerous military checkpoints. When we returned to Israel from Bethlehem (which is under Palestinian control) we were required to show our passports and undergo screening. Israel agrees with Thomas Jefferson that the price of freedom is eternal vigilance.
Second, Israelis see good in the bad. They view mandatory military service as essential to maintaining their unity and common culture. They fund a significant portion of their economy through the export of technology developed for their national defense. They seek to redeem their challenges for greater good.
Third, Israelis live in the present. One of my drivers was a veteran of the Yom Kippur War in 1973 and numerous battles since. I asked him how he deals with the stress of his nation’s security situation. He smiled and replied, “One day at a time.” He described his home in Galilee and told me about his four daughters. “Life each day is good,” he said. “If this is it — if there is to be no future for us — I am glad to have today.”
Daily preparation, redeeming evil for good, living in the now — all three lessons are valuable for Americans as we adjust to an era of global terrorism. And they are essential for experiencing the abundant life Jesus came to give his followers (John 10:10) in a fallen world (John 16:33).
Jews conclude their Yom Kippur service and Passover seder each year with the words, “L’Shanah Haba’ah B’yerushalayim,” “next year in Jerusalem.” We said them together our last night in the Holy City, trusting the New Year to the Great I Am. All of God there is, is in this moment.