Trying to Listen

Our friends invited us to join them last night for  this book talk at Temple Emanuel. The talk was between Yaakov Katz  former editor in chief of The Jerusalem Post and Bret Stephens. The book is about Israel's failures to anticipate the awful events of October 7.

When we got to the synagogue, the entire block was cordoned off with not only police barriers but also with large granite blocks around the synagogue . Police were stationed at each corner asking people to show their tickets to the lecture.

After getting through the police barriers we had to go through a security checkpoint to get in. There were a fair number of New York City police inside. The audience as most free lectures in New York tended to be older. The lecture hall was ringed by synagoge security officers and New York City police. 

At first I thought this was overkill. Soon after the conversation between the two journalists began, a masked audience member began shouting. he wasn't trying to engage n conversation. He wanted to shut down conversation. He was soon escorted out.

Almost as soon as things settled down a woman who I  had noticed moving around the auditorium sat down in a seat ...and a few seconds later stood up and began shouting "Free Palestine". Again, the protester was escorted out.

As things were settling down Bret Stephens explained that there would be time for audience members to submit all questions, even hostile and difficult questions, and that all would be answered. He continued that just shouting down the conversation was NOT conversation but an attempt to silence conversation.

Many of you remember that on October 7, my husband and I were about 8 miles from Gaza visiting our son in Ashkelon.  That morning, terrorists had reached Ashkelon and I was listening to the news and heard in real-time how those terrorists were caught. The building we were in was hit by a rocket and there was a fire on the first floor. We were on the fifth floor. At one point in the morning we had to evacuate the building because the apartment was so filled with smoke. We spent two and a half days in our son's shelter room. The bathroom was next to the shelter room. I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night Saturday/Sunday and the apartment was so filled with smoke that I thought that the possibility that we would die of smoke inhalation was real. I chose to not inform my husband and son  but went back to sleep and hoped for the best.

As the talk continued and memories of October 7 continued in my head,  I noticed that my heart was racing and I was forcing myself to stay in my seat and not flee. After the third shouting protester was escorted out let me husband know that I was feeling panic. He took my hand. I told him that if any more protesters stood up and shouted I would have to leave. 

The people standing up and shouting seemed out of control. Their goal was to silence and to intimidate. I didn't know how many of them were in the audience. I didn't know if even with the NYPD in the room if I was safe. The talk continued for another few minutes. Another shouter stood up and began shouting. I waited until he was out of the room and left. My husband and our friends stayed.

I thought that I was feeling calm but noticed after I was in the lobby of the building that I was shaking and near tears. I thought I would take the bus home and walked toward Madison Avenue.  There was a group of screaming protesters  on Madison Avenue. I turned around and walked back to fifth Avenue. a policeman asked me what was going in in the synagogue. I explained what the lecture was about and about the protesters shouting down the speakers. the policeman kept asking me questions about what was going on inside the synagogue.

I just had to get home. I took a taxi home.

 After I got home,I looked for news about the protest. Finally, this morning I found this in the Jerusalem Post. I guess that this sort of intimidation is just so usual that it doesn't even count as news.The protesters didn't especially want their words to be heard. They just wanted to silence and intimidate people who didn't believe as they do. 

By the time i went to sleep, my heart had finally stopped racing.