By José Galicot
TIJUANA, Mexico —
Medinat Shelí – My Homeland
In Spain
In Ethiopia
In Iran.
I live the struggles of the Jewish people,
every day,
anywhere they happen.
Aren’t Jews one wherever they are?
Aren’t we one with the Jewish state of Israel?
Our great poet Chaim Nachman Bialik said:
“Tejesacna ledei col ajeino Anjronenim”:
“Come shoulder to shoulder, brothers united to help our people.”
The story of the Diaspora,
the story of Israel
merges with the stories of the Bible.
Together, they define the history of the Jewish people.
They are the history of the Jewish people,
a unique, different, ancient, and modern history
that leaves a profound mark,
shaping the history of humanity itself.
Israel,
I suffer for your anguish and your dreads,
I pray for wisdom in your internal and external politics,
and I accompany Netanyahu to the American Congress with Elie Wiesel:
the Sinai,
the Six-Day War,
the War of Attrition,
Yom Kippur,
the Lebanon Wars,
Operation Protective Edge.
I live through Israel’s wars,
past and future.
Every single one of them,
the daily struggles,
the attacks,
the assaults—
with stones, knives, projectiles,
the Intifadas,
and the threats of terrorists.
I live antisemitism.
I hear everything.
I feel everything.
I bleed with you.
I am here, Israel.
Áni po.
Always.
And I live the struggles of the Jewish people
in the United States,
in Argentina,
in France,
in Holland,
in Ukraine,
in Turkey.
I live here.
Ani gar po, I live here,
I affirm strongly to anyone who questions me:
“Why don’t you live in Israel?”
I live in Israel.
Ani gar veIsrael, I live in Israel.
Wherever I am.
I live in Israel.
I made Aliyah to Jerusalem
long, long ago.
And I remain here permanently.
Every day, I read the news, watch television,
talk to my friends,
and to our enemies.
I receive tweets and Facebook messages from here and there.
I live Israel
every day.
I live in Zion. Ani gar veZion.
I live in Zion.
I lived in Israel’s wars.
I lived in the War of Independence.
I drained the swamps,
and built Degania,
the mother of the kibbutzim,
and I stood with Trumpeldor in “Tov lamut b’ad artzeinu” –
“It is good to die for our land.”
I live your history, Israel, and planted a tree yesterday.
Tel Hai.
I live here.
I built my house on the sands of Jaffa,
transforming them into the Mount of Spring,
into Tel Aviv.
Transcending time!
We Jews think schools
with the tradition of Hillel,
of Shammai, of Maimonides, and the ghettos.
And the light emanates from Zion,
illuminating the world.
“Mi Tzion tetze Tora
Udvar Adonay mi Lerushalaim” –
“From Zion shall come forth the Torah,
and the word of God from Jerusalem.”
I swallow bitterly,
my heart pounding,
when David Ben-Gurion
declares Israel’s Independence,
and I sing in the streets.
I live here, sacred Zion.
In prayers, in wars, in your triumphs,
in your defeats, in your congested Mediterranean,
in your arid Negev, in your emerald Eilat, in the alleys of Jerusalem,
in modern Tel Aviv.
I live here, sacred Zion!
In your challenging geography,
your defiant topography.
And I live surrounded by the worst neighbors in the world,
all enemies.
Wherever I am,
I live in Israel.
Ani chai b’Eretz Israel.
Israel lives in me.
We Jews live in Israel; Israel lives in every Jew,
in every Jew who suffers
anywhere in the world, for any reason.
In every Jew who suffers, we are all there.
Israel is present
anywhere in the world.
In every Jew who triumphs
in the arts, in science,
we are all there.
Israel is present
in your music, oh Israel, a blend of our evolution,
leaping from nostalgia to exuberant rhythm,
played on King David’s harp
and sung in Aramaic, Ladino, Yiddish, or Hebrew,
from the Tanakh to Ben Yehuda.
Your music,
interrupted by the roar of passing planes…
Your flavor, oh Israel, nourished by the Middle East,
and the ends of Europe,
from gefilte fish to hummus,
to tahini, to falafel, and Moroccan couscous.
Also, the taste of a salty tear,
a tear of sorrow, of joy, of love.
Your colors, oh Israel,
captured by the palettes of transplanted painters
who discover the joy of building the Alte Nayerland.
The Old New Homeland,
dreamed by Herzl
at the Basel Congresses.
Your aromas, oh Israel,
from the shuk with the saltiness of the Dead Sea,
and the perfume of flowers
we export to Europe,
sometimes mingled
with gunpowder and shrapnel,
and the scent of labor and the fields.
Your wind, oh Israel,
caresses the skin in Galilee
and burns in the Negev,
a wind that changes
from Metula to Eilat,
a wind that brings dust storms
and clouds that wet the thirsty land,
making it fertile
in the loving hands
of those who cherish it.
Jazak veematz, yehudim!
Strength and will, Jews!
Jews, strength and resolve!
Jazak Jazak Veematz!
I live here, always.
I live here forever, always.
Ani gar po.
*
José Galicot, a businessman and founder of Tijuana Innovadora, is a leader of the Mexican Jewish community on both sides of the U.S. – Mexico border.