by Barak Raz
Reflecting on the past two years representing the IDF in the West Bank, so many thoughts run through my mind – lessons learned, ideas discovered, emotions felt, and experiences had. For the past two weeks, I have tried to sum it all up, rather unsuccessfully. Overwhelmed with ideas, emotions and experiences, it has been difficult for me to write a comprehensive summary of all that I’ve seen, heard, felt, thought and learned. Nonetheless, this is my attempt at doing so, so that I can share with all of you – my friends, family, colleagues, and those who have joined me digitally – my final reflections before I leave my position as Spokesperson for the Judea and Samaria Division. (In case you didn’t, I urge you read my post from last Friday.)
Whenever
I brief on the situation in the West Bank, I am consistently struck by
the complexities and intricacies of the IDF’s critical mission in the
area. While I have spent the past two years explaining incidents that
involve our troops, this past Tuesday (Aug. 6, 2013), I found myself in
the midst of a security event that could have ended very badly.
I was on a tour with LT Yehonatan, my
successor, and we were driving from Division HQ to the Shomron Brigade
HQ. While driving along Route 60, we passed through the outskirts of the
Palestinian village of Huwara. Huwara can hardly be considered a
friendly village, and the stretch of highway that meets the village has
been the site of explosive device attacks, shootings, pipe-bombs, fire
bombs (Molotov cocktails), burning tires, and rock throwing. About three
weeks ago, in the very same location, IDF troops had caught the man responsible for the June 12th and June 25th shooting incidents.
As we were driving, I noticed a Palestinian
male who appeared to be in his mid-teens standing about 5 meters off the
road. In the seconds that I watched him, he drew a grey pistol and
aimed it at us.
Have you ever had a gun aimed at you? Because I hadn’t.
I immediately jerked the car as we made eye
contact. Startled, the young man immediately disappeared into the
alleyways. My heart was pounding and thousands of thoughts ran through
my mind in the blink of an eye. Do I scramble out of the car and give
chase? Do I fire warning shots in the air in an attempt to halt his
escape? Do I drive into Huwara in an attempt to chase him down quickly?
But that wasn’t all. Was he 16 or was he younger? Was it a gun or was it
a toy? If it was a real gun, why didn’t he fire when he had me in his
sights (mind you, I had a clear vision of the darkness inside the
barrel)? If it was a toy gun and he was playing – where were his
friends? Then there were the thoughts that brought me back to the many
operational probes I sat through. If I scrambled after him, would LT
Yehonatan know what was happening? How would he respond and what would
he do? Do we leave the car together, and give chase together? Do we
drive in, together, with the car? Do we split up, where I give chase and
leave him behind (on foot or in the car) as backup, cover, and a way to
direct the forces we called in? If I went after him (either on my own
or with LT Yehonatan, either with the car or on foot) in what situation
would I find myself once inside this hostile village? And what kind of
response does such a situation warrant? If I responded with force in
light of a perceived clear and present threat, what could have been the
consequences? If I opened fire, what if I were wrong? If I held fire,
what if I were wrong then? What would happen down the line if I let the
apparent suspect get away?
Many questions in very little time, but two
things were certain – I couldn’t ignore the situation, so some action
was required, and the dilemmas facing soldiers in situations like these
are endless. When backup arrived, we looked for the suspect. We came up
empty handed and the day went on.
This incident reinforced something that I
always try to explain: the threat is real. The lack of “successful”
terror attacks from the West Bank in recent years should never be
confused with a lack of motivation or desire on the part of Hamas,
Palestinian Islamic Jihad, or the dozens of other organizations that
work tirelessly in order to reestablish themselves in the region. The
relative calm and security stability that exists in the West Bank today
has by and large resulted from an ongoing security effort headed by the
IDF.
This security effort has two main aspects –
ongoing routine security operations (which include the security fence,
crossings, and riot containment) and ongoing counterterrorism operations
(which include arrests and intelligence gathering and analysis). By
combining these two aspects, the IDF conducts a comprehensive effort in
the face of the many security threats and challenges.
For the past two years, all I have done, night
and day was live, sleep, eat and breathe the various dilemmas the IDF
faces when conducting an ongoing security effort in this volatile
region. While many have grown accustomed the current situation, we
mustn’t kid ourselves – the violent currents are strong and they are
just beneath the surface. The hard-won security stability is the product
of over a decade of effective counterterrorism and routine security
operations; and it can all vanish in an instant.
This is why IDF commanders constantly assess
and reassess the situation while considering a plethora of factors –
from terrorism and rioting, through law and public order, to issues of
quality of life and economics. Our assessments include evaluations of
our own actions. On the one hand, we understand the risk of doing “too
little”, while on the other we understand that by doing “too much”; we
could possibly undermine that same stability we aim to create and
preserve.
The consequences of a destabilized West Bank
are dire – for Israelis, for Palestinians, for the region, and perhaps
the world. A destabilization of the West Bank, an area that engulfs the
critical coastline that is home to 75% of Israelis and produces 80% of
our GDP, would have a direct impact on Israeli security, threatening
countless lives (think of the hundreds of bus bombings and shootings we
experienced just a few years ago). It would also damage the
Palestinians’ quality of life, civil order, and economy. A return to the
cycle of violence we knew in the Second Intifada period would
inevitably result in a tragic loss of thousands of lives on both sides.
Also, a destabilized West Bank would no doubt affect the region beyond
our borders, when considering the situation in other Middle Eastern
countries, therefore becoming a concern of global proportions. Certainly
when considering Israel’s overall strategic security situation and the
wide-array of threats facing our small vulnerable country, both near and
far, one can understand why we must do everything in our power to
prevent a deterioration in the West Bank.
The IDF is an organization that evolves
through a process of implementing lessons learned and employing a system
of checks and balances. There are many misconceptions when it comes to
the way we operate and the many considerations we make when defining
these operations. Our operations have evolved over the years, and are
often misperceived. Whether it be the issue of checkpoints that for the
most part no longer exist within our operational concept, the importance
and necessity of arrest operations, or the principles through which we
seek to contain violent rioting – there is nothing simple about our
operations and there is no perfect answer to an imperfect security
situation.
In no way, shape or form should any of this be
understood as a statement with implications in either direction – it
should be understood as stressing the importance of stability in the
region and the work that goes into creating it, regardless of what the
future might bring. After all, in the Middle East, there is no way of
knowing what’s just around the corner – anyone who claims to “know” what
will be is only kidding himself.
I, like most people, do share the hopes for a
brighter future – no matter how that future is achieved. Also, I do
consider myself an optimist. To express that, I’d like to borrow an
anecdote from Israeli President Shimon Peres. When he was once asked by a
journalist whether he was an optimist or pessimist, he replied with the
following: “optimists and pessimists both die in the end – the
difference is how they live their lives.”
As I have said, this is my last weekend on the
job. On Sunday I pass it over to LT Yehonatan, my good friend and
long-time colleague. I wish him much luck with what is certain to be a
challenging period – and I am certain he will perform with excellence!
With that, I’d like to say that it was an
honor and a privilege to serve my people and country in this capacity
for the past two years – as Spokesperson for the Judea & Samaria
Division. I thank you all for following along, and I look forward to
whatever lies ahead.
Shabbat Shalom and Eid Mubarak!
Barak Raz
Source: http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/no-perfect-answers-my-2-years-as-an-idf-spokesperson/
Copyright - Original materials copyright (c) by the authors.
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