by Becky Rowe

Unlike their counterparts abroad, high school for Israeli youth is followed by military service. For better or worse , it is a way of life.

My friend’s son, Ilan, graduated from high school last year, and following, as it were, the path of least resistance, he was soon inducted into the army. On the one hand, my friend was miserable - sending her son off to three years of militarism and possible danger; on the other hand, she was proud, recognizing that her darling would take part in the needed defense of the Jewish State; and somewhere, not exactly in between, she was utterly thrilled — someone was to hammer discipline into her noncompliant teenager, and finally make him pick up his dirty socks.

No one will deny that if Israel wants to survive, it needs a strong army. That being said, someone’s got to do the job. Aside from the vast majority of ultra-orthodox who do not serve, and in the opinion of most Israelis, skirt a paramount civic duty, the Israel Defense Forces, is for the most part, an army of the people: men and women, rich and poor, new immigrant and veterans — three years for men, two years for women. Druze men, as well as many Bedouin, serve, although the majority of Israeli Arabs are still exempt for obvious reasons. There is discussion of a non-military option of national service which will hopefully be implemented in the near future, closing off loopholes and leveling the playing field entirely.

So, getting back to our majority — well, before reaching the ripe age of eighteen, young Israelis are not fretting over college applications, but chewing over what they want to do in the army or agonizing about the reality of what it means to be a soldier. Pre-army testing usually begins in the second to last year of high school during which a physical and mental profile is determined for each individual. This profile, outlining abilities, talents and limitations, prescribes the types of unit the individual will be invited to serve in — technical, infantry, paramedical, support, intelligence, educational, etc.

“There’s got to be a place somewhere in the world...that Jewish kids will feel is theirs, a place where the songs are theirs, where the history is their history, where the place doesn’t just welcome them, but is for them. A place where they won’t have to fight. And a place where being Jewish will also mean being just. “Can it happen? We’re here because we desperately want the answer to be ‘yes’. We’re here because as we ask ourselves what we ultimately want to leave our children, having them become part of this crazy, complicated, and wondrous place is the most important gift we can imagine. What after all, can parents give their kids that’s more important than a home?” Daniel Gordis, from “Home to Stay”, Jerusalem

Once inducted, much depends on the “hevre,” or group, in which one finds oneself. Those for whom the group coalesces, the feelings of camaraderie, trust and friendship cemented under stress situations will be a life-long treasure. Many of these teenagers, who not long ago were cramming for tests, beefing up their facebook profile, or deciding what to watch next on television, are pulled out of their reverie and required to arrive on time, respect authority, work extremely long hours and make decisions that can have life or death consequences — the girls as well as the boys.

We put our soldiers in untenable positions: manning roadblocks and making the agonizing decision of whom to allow through, removing Jewish settlers from their homes, searching for terrorists among civilian populations. There are unfortunate cases of abuse, disrespect and confusion, but for the most part our young men and women do more than fare responsibly. They mature, gain both technical and social skills and learn to overcome obstacles.

Under constant scrutiny, the power and actions of the army are alternately applauded and condemned within Israel, as well as without. Many claim mainstream Israeli society lionizes the military, makes too much use of army connections, and could use a dose of “civil”ization.

However, when most everyone takes part, it is hard not to feel a part of it. Everything in Israel is close to home. When a soldier is injured or killed, the entire country is in pain. When the Hamas took over Gaza, the foremost thought for many Israelis was not necessarily the long-term geo-political implications of the seizure of power but, “what does this mean for Gilad Shalit?” — Israel’s soldier captured by Hamas before last year’s Lebanon War. The horror of what war really means haunts us through our children.

Back to Ilan who recently completed his basic training. Home for a few days, my friend is reeling from her son’s summing up of boot camp as “Hard, but really good”. “Good?” she repeats in disbelief. “Yeah, well it is a great group of guys,” he retorts indignantly. Meanwhile, the country is relatively calm and she can only hope that Ilan will land an interesting job and stay out of danger’s way. The jury is still out on the dirty socks.