The Assassination of Yitzhak Rabin
(November 4, 1995)
To a large extent, religiosity has become a good
indicator of Israelis' attitudes on peacemaking and territories
issues, specifically the Oslo process. This nexus elicits its
harshest rhetoric in the context of the assassination of Yitzhak
Rabin on Nov. 4, 1995. The second anniversary of the
assassination, observed on Nov. 4-12, 1997, brought forth a discourse
that suggests, to those engaged in it, that the tragedy has created a
new pressure sore.
Nine Days, Two Conspiracy
Theories
The anniversary period occasioned a raft of
headlines suggesting that “the Left” and “the Right” were
squaring off for war over the causes (note the plural) of the Rabin
assassination, with the focus on conspiracies.
The conspiracy theory expressed in the name of
“the Left” emerged in November 1995, immediately after the
assassination. Articulated sometimes as an innuendo and sometimes as
a certainty, it alleged that Rabin had been assassinated collectively
by “the Right,” “the settlers,” “the religious,” or some
combination/mutation of the three. Yigal Amir's trigger finger, this
account argued, was a marionette appendage actuated by vile and
benighted hordes that should be cast out of the Israeli polity if not
targeted for revenge. Those who share this conviction have coined a
slogan: “Never Forgive, Never Forget.” In an advertisement
published on Nov. 7, for example, the Peace Bloc (an alliance of
small groups rooted in Canaanism and the intifada-era far Left)
referred to Rabin's murder “by nationalist religious zealots.”
Within a few days, unidentified individuals had issued death threats
against several rightist-Orthodox parliamentarians.
The theory expressed by “the Right” revolved
around Avishai Raviv, whom the General Security Service (GSS) had
recruited to inform on the extreme Right. The publication of
hitherto-classified sections of Shamgar Commission of Inquiry into
the Rabin assassination, which by chanced coincided with the
anniversary, shed some light on Raviv's provocative tactics and led
some to argue that Raviv had incited Amir on the instructions of the
GSS, which had scores to settle with Rabin.
Proponents of the two theories met, so to speak,
on Nov. 30 at a Tel Aviv workshop entitled: “The Avishai Raviv
Affair and Who is Afraid of Probing the Conspiracy to Assassinate
Rabin.” While the Ravivists conspired inside the hall, a squad of
demonstrators from a peace movement protested outside. The message on
their posters: “Everyone knows who incited.”
Some mainstream figures who keep their distance
from conspiracy-mongers nevertheless allude to these sentiments. On
the Right, cabinet secretary Danny Naveh alleged (Nov. 15) that
politicians associated with the previous Government knew that at
least some of Avishai Raviv's actions were committed “within the
framework” of the GSS and exploited them to besmirch the
“national camp” (as the mainstream Right has termed itself since
the 1980s). MK Rehavam Zeevy, head of the Moledet Party, blamed Rabin
for his own murder “as the official in charge of the GSS” (Nov.
14).
On the center-left, Labour
Party chairman Ehud Barak flirted with his fringe's conspiracy theory in otherwise conciliatory
memorial remarks on Nov. 12. “May we never assail each other from
rooftops and terraces,” he said, alluding to the infamous 1995 Likud rally, addressed by party leader Benjamin
Netanyahu from a balcony, beneath which Raviv circulated with a
poster that had Rabin's head superimposed on a picture of SS
commander Heinrich Himmler in full regalia—“and not stand at
streetcorners and plazas surrounded by symbols of death, blood, and
treason”—an in direct reference to the extraparliamentary
movements' tactics that year. However, Barak then deliberately
modified the fringe players' formula: “We won't forget Rabin, and
we won't forgive his murderer.”
The notion of setting aside the Rabin
assassination as sui generis, as Israel usually does with the
Holocaust—a matter comparable to nothing else, an event only to be
rued and, in the context of recurrence, prevented—has yet to mature
among those who feel strongly about the matter.
Who Wants This War?
Not the majority of Israel.
On July 8, the Knesset enacted a State memorial
day for Yitzhak Rabin, to
be marked annually on 12 Heshvan, the anniversary of his death
according to the Jewish
calendar. On Dec. 22, the Knesset Dialogue, Tolerance, and
Conciliation Covenant was signed, realizing a post-assassination
initiative of MK Rafi Edery (Labour), President Ezer
Weizman, and Sephardi Chief Rabbi Bakshi-Doron. Its signatories,
including Prime Minister Netanyahu,
opposition leader Barak,
ministers and parliamentarians from all factions, and various
extra-parliamentary movements, undertook to “act within the law,
display mutual respect; avoid rhetoric of hate and incitement,
maintain civilized debate in the Knesset, and take action against
anyone who threatens democratic governance.” The internal security
system kept the “Ideological Front,” successor to the two
outlawed Kahanist movements, under close surveillance.
The courts chilled the violent brew that preceded
the assassination. (1) In February, the State appealed successfully
the September 1996 District Court reversal of the conviction in
Netanya Magistrate's Court of Nathan Ophir, rabbi of the Hebrew
University of Jerusalem, for behavior liable to breach the peace and
obstructing police in an attempted assault against Prime Minister
Rabin on Oct. 10, 1995. Ophir was sentenced to 160 hours of public
service. (2) On Sept. 3, Jerusalem Magistrate's Court convicted
anti-Oslo leaders Moshe Feiglin and Shmuel Sackett of sedition for
their conduct in the summer of 1995. (3) On Nov. 27, Jerusalem
Magistrate's Court sentenced Michael Ben-Horin to eight months in
prison for incitement to racism and support of a terror organization
for having edited Barukh hagever, a memorial anthology for Baruch
Goldstein.
The mainstream “settler Right,” contrary to
routine assessments by the mainstream and fringe Left, reckoned with
itself harshly after the assassination. Its establishment barred
fringe groups from its political activities and employed such caution
in expressing its political aims as to leave its messages sterile and
unfocused. Its rank-and-file, perceptibly if less firmly, expunged
extreme individuals from its social life.
As for the country at large, the anniversary
observances followed the composite Jewish/Western model of rituals
that typified the 1995 outpouring. The civic shrine at the site of
the assassination, Rabin Square outside Tel Aviv City Hall, has
become so accepted in this function that a memorial rally there on
Saturday night, Nov. 8, drew an estimated 200,000 persons. Official
ceremonies and observances (Nov. 11-12) covered enough institutions
as to engage nearly everyone. Orthodox and secular leaders erected
“remembrance tents” for fasting, study, and lectures. The mass
memorialization and bereavement, so unlike the stridency of the
conspiracy-mongers, shows that the public is pursuing a
“conspiracy” of its own, with an alacrity that can hardly be
insincere: excluding the Rabin assassination and its circumstances
from the struggle to delineate the contours of Israeli society.
Sources: Israel Yearbook
& Almanac. Reprinted with permission. |
