Truly funny, truly uncomfortable

A friend showed me a short video this week, to see whether I found it amusing. I did initially, but it left a sense of lingering discomfort because of how true it was. 

It was a piece by Eretz Nehederet, a very popular long-running Israeli prime time satirical sketch comedy programme. It portrayed two old friends bumping into each other at Ben Gurion Airport in Israel. Both are Jewish. Eli is Israeli, and Jennifer is American. 

Excited to see each other, he says, “I can’t believe this is where we meet.” She says, “You know us Jews, if history has taught us anything …” and he completes her sentence with “it’s knowing when it’s time to leave.” 

She told him she had tried to stay as long as she could, and he agrees saying, “One morning, you wake up and realise …” and they both go on to say, “it’s not the same country you grew up in.” He goes on to say, “It’s no longer safe for us to live here.” At which point, they realise that she is talking about having just left New York to live in Israel; and he is leaving Israel to live in New York. He is astonished that she would consider living in Israel now, and she can’t believe that he would move to New York now. 

She asks, “Did you see who just won the election?” And he says, “At least you still have elections.” She says, “Trust me, it’s just not safe for Jews there anymore.” And he says, “You literally came to the most dangerous place for Jews on the planet.” 

As they part, thinking each other a bit loony, they bid farewell, both ironically saying, “Am Yisrael Chai!” 

Yes, this skit is amusing, but so deeply true about what is happening in our world. So many Israelis have gone through the hell of two years at war, where the impact of the stress and distress has at least touched – and in some cases damaged – everyone. It’s clear from having been there recently that Israelis are tired of fighting, the horror of war, and its fallout. Now that there is a ceasefire, no-one is celebrating. They wish for peace, but believe it to be a prospect way in the future, if ever. 

When I was in Greece recently, I met several Israelis who had moved there, at least temporarily, because to them, it made sense. None of them were committed to remaining in Greece forever because ultimately, Israel would always be home. However, they felt a lightness and an ease in living in Greece, and weren’t rushing to go home permanently. They saw Greece as an easier life. 

I must say that it’s only in the past few years that I have heard Israelis speaking openly about emigration. As far as I knew, it was just not something Israelis did. Interestingly, despite the conflict, Israel remains in the top 10 of happiest countries in the world. It is the 8th happiest now, having fallen three places since 2024. I understand this phenomenon because I see how people really living life to the full in Israel. Whereas here in South Africa, it often feels more like we live to work to make a living to pay the bills to keep going. There isn’t too much of really living life to the full, like I witnessed in Israel. 

Much like the woman in the skit who is making aliya, I imagine that’s what she sees in Israel. Living there looks good, perhaps not easy, but good. There is such camaraderie in neighbourhoods, and people look out for one another, or so it appears. As a woman, you can walk around safely at any time of night. Children there also have a freedom our children in South Africa don’t know. 

And in the diaspora, we are experiencing rising antisemitism, which is making the world a far scarier place. In our lead story (page 1) this week, patients and medical practitioners talk about how they are being threatened because they are Jews. Even the idea that a patient going for medical care, or to give birth, isn’t safe from the person treating them, seems absurd. That’s in England. 

Then just this week in Australia, police allowed a protest against the “Jewish lobby” to go ahead just outside the New South Wales Parliament. About 70 white nationalist men stood there shouting about how revolting the “Jewish lobby” is. They accused the Jewish lobby of not just bribing and coercing Australian politicians, but “owning” them. They made it clear that they would prefer Australia without Jews. Nobody even came near to stop them spewing their hatred and denying any antisemitic activity in Australia. 

I’m not sure this got much publicity in Australia. Why would it when antisemitism has reached unprecedented levels in that country? It’s almost commonplace there. See the opinion piece by Jewish communal leader Dr Vic Alhadeff, a former South African journalist/editor, on page 2. 

So, it’s easy to understand why those living in the diaspora are concerned about the safety of Jews outside Israel, and may and do consider making aliya. But then, those of us living in the diaspora don’t wake up in the middle of the night to sirens and have to run to shelters. We don’t live under the constant threat of war and missiles. Our countries aren’t surrounded by national enemies wanting to obliterate them. 

Having said that, we are cognisant that in some countries in the diaspora, more and more people would prefer not to have Jews near them. These days, it mostly starts as an animosity towards Israel because they find every reason to find fault with the Jewish state. But it moves quite swiftly, as in the United Kingdom with the NHS issue and Australia with the recent antisemitic protest, to antisemitism and wanting to rid their country of Jews or, as the Australians said, the “Jewish lobby”. 

So, the skit is funny only in that we are able to laugh at ourselves and our predicament. Am Yisrael Chai! 

Shabbat shalom! 

Peta Krost 

Editor