Four years ago, I spent a wonderful Shabbat in the predominantly Druze village of Peki'in. Margalit Zinati, whose family had lived in Peki'in consecutively since the destruction of the Second Temple, was still alive. She showed us the ancient synagogue in Peki'in and the thousand year old Torah scroll on display there. We visited the cave where Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai had hidden from the Romans and the graves of the Mishnaic scholars. Peki'in is a place untouched by the 2000 years of exile. It connects you to the simple, healthy foundation of the pre-exile Nation of Israel.

 

But it was hard not to feel the hostility. Margalit, elderly at the time, had been the last remaining Jew in Peki'in. A few years before our visit, a number of Jewish families had joined her to rekindle the Jewish history of the village. Margalit told us that she and the other Jews in the village were periodically harassed by the Druze neighbors.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As part of my political activities, I have visited Druze villages many times, and I have good friends there. The first time that I attended an elections meeting in a Druze village, I noticed an interesting phenomenon. A number of other Jewish Likud candidates had also come to the meeting to ask for the support of the Druze. One after the other, they got up to speak. Their opening remarks were all the same; "We are all brothers. We are your brothers. You are our brothers. We are brothers, brothers, brothers."

 

I didn't know exactly what I was going to say. But I knew that I wasn't going to flatter them with false claims of brotherhood. The meeting took place a short time after Ehud Barak had given orders for the IDF to flee Lebanon. The betrayal of our allies, the soldiers of the South Lebanon Army -- was still heavy in the air. I looked at the obviously traditional audience; young people in back, adults in front and the elder leaders in traditional garb in the first rows.

 

"I am not your brother," I opened my remarks to the astonished crowd, while thinking to myself that I may have just gotten myself into hot water. "I am a Jew and you are Druze. And it is precisely because I understand exactly who I am -- precisely because I am faithful to my identity -- that I know the significance of loyalty and respect for my allies. I look at you and I see how you treasure your identity. He who has no anchor cannot be loyal to anything. Not to his wife, not to his community, not to his nation, not to his land and certainly not to his allies. If Israel's covenant with the Druze is not to end in the same way as its covenant with the South Lebanese Army ended, Israel needs leadership that is loyal to its Jewish identity and does not flee it."

 

I don't know if the Jews in the hall understood what I was saying, but the Druze certainly did. My words made a strong impression on them that was expressed in the voting booth. The Druze wanted me in the Knesset, but the same Supreme Court that allowed Azmi Bashara to run disqualified my candidacy.

 

What do we want from the Druze in Peki'in? The Israeli culture of betrayal has pushed their backs against the wall. "Are you crazy?" the atmosphere of betrayal mocks them. "The Israelis are here only temporarily, they bow down to any and every display of Arab nationalism, they have betrayed their own identity and their own land. Deep down, the Israelis think that the Arab claims on the Land are just; that is why they are always looking for 'pragmatic' solutions.' It allows them to run away from the question of justice. Clearly, even though you have established a covenant of blood with them, you do not merit the same respect that the Arabs receive from the Israelis. The Israelis despise themselves. So how do you expect them to relate to those who join them? They call the Arabs who help them 'stinkers,' not allies. Do you really think that they will not betray you as well?"

 

In a press release following the pogrom in Peki'in I commented as follows:
The events in Peki'in are the answer to those who ask why Israel needs the outskirts of Jerusalem. Those individuals who do not understand the justice of our sovereignty in Jerusalem have no answer to the Arab claims of ownership over the Land of Israel. It is only natural that the Druze community will ultimately join the side that believes in the justice of its cause.

 

And how did the Israelis react? First, they attempted to explain that the riots had nothing to do with nationalism and were only because of the antennas. That doesn't really explain why the Jewish homes in Peki'in were ransacked and burned, though. The government forced the Jews to leave Peki'in, proving to one and all that the Israelis have no roots, and are nothing more than shifting sands here.

 

The conclusion for the Druze is simple and obvious. It is best to join forces with those who plan to stay here. Because if after 2000 consecutive years of Jewish presence in Peki'in, Israel drives the Jews out, it is clear that there is no justification for the existence of the state of the Jews. Sooner or later, it will disappear. A Druze has to be an idiot to remain loyal to a state like that.