JERUSALEM-Concerned emails have been trickling into my inbox from an increasingly extended network of friends and relatives since violence erupted in Gaza and along the Lebanese border last week. They all hit the same notes: "You still in Israel?" "Just making sure you're OK," "It looks pretty bad over there."
Indeed, I am still here, on a five week sortie of work and play, and it does look bad. Hundreds are dead, the sky is falling, and aerial images of northern Israel and Lebanon bring to mind a giant rug being shaken, so choked is the air with dust and debris from the now daily Hizbullah rocket and IDF air attacks.
But despite the seemingly widespread turmoil, many Israelis are remarkably calm and philosophical about the whole ordeal.
"We're a small country, but we've been through hard times before. It's bad now in the north, but I'm not worried in Jerusalem," said Yechaim Levy, 56, a city cab driver.
Levy's comments are a testament to the fact that Israel is a country of not just physical, but also social and political microclimates--as variable as the sun, snow, rain, and fog pockets that shape life around California's San Francisco Bay.
For example, Tel Aviv remains a bustling beach city, while missiles strike Haifa less than a 100 kilometers north, and Jerusalem is subdued-as-usual despite a Palestinian suicide bomber captured Tuesday in the downtown area. Even in the north, where the danger is greatest and rockets land daily, some darkly comic residents refer to themselves as members of the "Katyusha Club."
As if to encourage such psychic distance (in a New Jersey-sized country where geographic distance is in short supply), local newspapers ranging from the left-leaning Ha'aretz to the right-leaning Jerusalem Post avoid all-encompassing phrases such as "Middle East Crisis" and "Showdown in the Middle East" favored by international news outlets. They opt instead for "War in the North"--which sounds specific and somehow more livable and localized. Meanwhile, amidst passionate war coverage, movie listings can still be found in reassuringly complete arts and entertainment sections. Space is also given to articles with a life-as-usual slant: "Shelling in Israel? Tours Go On" read one headline on YNET, the online edition of the Hebrew-language daily Yedioth Ahronoth.
There are of course some signs of disruption that extend beyond the front lines: outdoor events have been cancelled as far south as the port of Eilat, and radios and televisions blare incessant newscasts. Both Yedioth and its rival Ma'ariv wrap their tabloid-style pages with a graphic daily broadsheet about the war. In the streets, people talk openly of an extended conflict, and a recent public opinion poll found over 80% of Israelis support the current engagement in Lebanon. Nearly 60% believe it should continue indefinitely or until "Hizbullah is wiped out."
It's a degree of national unity that suggests an overarching sense of shared fate in the current crisis. But the trick for coping favored by most Israelis seems to be compartmentalizing their problems. "War in the North" doesn't need to mean panic in the South--which is why for me in Jerusalem, in my own microclimate, I can be part of a war that seems very far away.