From the Editors

As this issue goes to print, we anticipate the celebration of the feast of Chanukah, a holiday that commemorates the victory of Jews against the twin forces of paganism and powerful enemies within and without. Antiochus, the Greek-Syrian king, sacked the Temple in Jerusalem, outlawed Jewish religion and forced the worship of Zeus on a frightened and unarmed population. Led by Mattathias, and eventually by his son Judah Maccabee, Jews fought back and ultimately vanquished the powerful Greek armies, despite having fewer men and weapons. In 168 BCE, they repaired and rededicated the holy Temple, and the miracle that is celebrated on December 22, 2000 is the small flask of oil, which lasted for eight days, and kept the menorah lit.

Our history is full of noble endeavor. In modern times, the uprising in the Warsaw Ghetto, the thousands of heroic deeds during the Holocaust, the fight to establish the Jewish State, the ingathering in the decades following World War II, the liberation of Hebron, Jericho and Jerusalem spring to mind. All were carried out against overwhelming odds and implacable, well-armed enemies.

Today, as millions of Jewish homes celebrate Chanukah in warm and comfortable surroundings, in their homes in Judea, Samaria and Gaza, Jewish heroes perpetuate our claims and our faith. They light Sabbath candles and perform rituals behind sand-bags, in the face of gunfire from surrounding well-armed fanatic enemies whose appetite for murder has been fed by the mindless policies of Israel's successive governments since 1993. In Migdalim in Samaria, forty children travel every morning to a school in another settlement, without a military escort. They travel in bullet proof cars, parents shielding their young in full knowledge that the surrounding Arabs are equal-opportunity murderers unwilling to distinguish between the army and civilian children.

They endure not only a precarious life, but the taunts and animosity of shameless Israeli pacifists who blame them for the current terrorism. A.B. Yehoshua, an Israeli writer with slim talent but ample self-loathing, recently wrote an open letter to settlers urging them to evacuate, warning that they would be blamed for endangering Israel. In the face of all this, the settlers' resolve hardens.

In the New York Times of December 1, Deborah Sontag described life in the settlements. Pinchas Wallerstein, a long time leader in the settlements, speaks from a bullet-ridden office in Psagot, near Ramallah. Even the display panel on his telephone has a bullet hole. At night in Psagot, children hide under beds and in bathtubs, trembling. Psagot has suffered over 75 "incidents," including a seven-hour gun-battle. The following vignette concerning Evita Mazuz, reprinted from the Times, illustrates the heroism of the residents of Psagot: "Feeding her baby, Mrs. Mazuz (shown in an accompanying picture playing with her eight month old son, among fortifications and sandbags) seemed resigned to the sacrifices. When the nightly shooting began, she said, her seven-year old started wetting his bed. The baby screamed through the night. She and her husband would go to bed alone and wake up accompanied by many of her eight children." But she does not contemplate moving. "I feel I have nowhere to go. If we leave here and go farther in, then they've got what they want and it'll be the same thing in Jerusalem or Tel Aviv."

Right on the mark, Mrs. Mazuz. This episode is repeated throughout Judea, Samaria and Gaza. Among the standard bearers is Miriam Levinger, who went to live in the eye of the storm, at the epicenter in Hebron, where bravely and defiantly she and a dedicated group remain. These are today's Maccabees, and their resolve and courage gives Jews everywhere pride.

This year when we light the candles, we urge all Jews to light them in honor of the settlers, whose spirit, like the ancient oil, will not run out. We urge Jews and Christians to honor them and to pray for their success. Theirs is the saga that future generations will thrill to with pride and gratitude. AFSI, and the editorial board of Outpost, dedicates this issue and all our efforts to our brave pioneers.

Outpost               - 2 -               December 2000