OPINION: I’m so relieved my son did not make the grade for the IDF
By Lisa Sanders, Journalist [and proud mum]
It’s a breezy morning and I’m driving up the coast to the IDF recruitment office. I’m trying to get there by 8am, when the place opens.
My son Yoel [pictured with me, right], 16, is in a good mood.
“I hope I get a good profile,” he tells me.
“Hmmm,” I nod uncertainly.
The army, with its impenetrable jargon and alphabet soup of battalions and divisions is completely alien to me.
I’m also nervous as to what this “good profile” will mean for my firstborn.
I can’t even start to picture my baby as a warrior.
But he and his friends, strapping lads all of them, hope to be “Kravi” – fighters.
In their eyes it’s utterly uncool to be desk-bound – a “Jobnik.”
This is his second attempt to complete Tzav Rishon, the first stage of the army induction process.
Yoel went a fortnight earlier, setting off in the early dawn light along with a handful of schoolmates. He arrived back after 9pm, reporting that the army was “a balagan” – chaos (anyone who’s ever experienced Israeli bureaucracy can sympathise, right?).
Potential recruits are made to wait and queue, and wait again. Between the waiting and queuing, each must complete an interview, a medical check-up, and sit a computerised IQ exam.
At the end of this, they get three separate scores: an IQ number, their “family background” score (I have no idea what this is) and a medical score.
So far, so bewildering. For me at least. And he needed to go back, because he hadn’t completed the medical. The doctor, apparently, leaves promptly at 5pm every day, regardless of how many children are still waiting. It’s exam season in Israel.
My son pointed out that, were he to take public transport to this second appointment, it would mean another day spent not studying. So I offered to take him. We rarely get to chat these days; I admit I leapt at the chance to drive him.
Despite the traffic jams, we arrive.
Teenagers of all shapes, colours and sizes are plodding towards the recruitment centre: phones out, earphones in, the characteristic gait of today’s youth. I park the car, buy coffee at one of the cut-price coffee stands that have popped up everywhere and watch a flock of traffic wardens laughing as they sip cappuccinos.
After an hour or so, my son messages me: “Nearly done. Out soon.” Not too bad then. “So? How was it?” I greet him as we get back in the car. He shrugs, then slumps into his seat. “Not great.” “What’s that mean, not great?” “I got a 64 on my medical.” But the numbers mean nothing to me, dunce that I am on all matters army-related.
He explains patiently: “It’s really low. Because of my eyesight. If you’re over minus six, that’s it.” “So?” “So I can’t be “Kravi.” “You can’t?” “No. Total bummer. I tried to argue with the doctor but it was no use.”
He imitates the doctor’s Russian accent. Then he falls silent. I negotiate the winding, hilly streets of Haifa, taking us down and out of the city.
I switch on Galei Tzahal, Army radio; it’s Erev Yom Hazikaron, the day before Israel’s Memorial Day and they’re playing all the sad songs.
Twenty-three thousand men and women have been killed in service to their country or through terror attacks since 1948.
I drive, and try to think what to say to my son. I understand his bitter disappointment. He wants to make a meaningful difference to his country and his army service is the most important thing to him right now. But even I know enough to realise that his lowered medical profile, taken together with his high IQ score and “average” family background score (I’ve still no idea what this is) means he can be considered for intelligence, perhaps the elite cyber unit if he’s lucky.
So he’s not going to be a fighter. Of course I’m relieved; heck, I’m ecstatic. I pull over and we get out by the beach to eat burekas.
We talk about nonsense, about surfing (his great passion), about his studies. And I think: this typical, uncomfortable blend of happiness and worry, uncertainty, sadness and joy is what characterises this country.
Perhaps now I’m finally a proper Israeli.
Thank you for helping to make Jewish News the leading source of news and opinion for the UK Jewish community. Today we're asking for your invaluable help to continue putting our community first in everything we do.
For as little as £5 a month you can help sustain the vital work we do in celebrating and standing up for Jewish life in Britain.
Jewish News holds our community together and keeps us connected. Like a synagogue, it’s where people turn to feel part of something bigger. It also proudly shows the rest of Britain the vibrancy and rich culture of modern Jewish life.
You can make a quick and easy one-off or monthly contribution of £5, £10, £20 or any other sum you’re comfortable with.
100% of your donation will help us continue celebrating our community, in all its dynamic diversity...
Engaging
Being a community platform means so much more than producing a newspaper and website. One of our proudest roles is media partnering with our invaluable charities to amplify the outstanding work they do to help us all.
Celebrating
There’s no shortage of oys in the world but Jewish News takes every opportunity to celebrate the joys too, through projects like Night of Heroes, 40 Under 40 and other compelling countdowns that make the community kvell with pride.
Pioneering
In the first collaboration between media outlets from different faiths, Jewish News worked with British Muslim TV and Church Times to produce a list of young activists leading the way on interfaith understanding.
Campaigning
Royal Mail issued a stamp honouring Holocaust hero Sir Nicholas Winton after a Jewish News campaign attracted more than 100,000 backers. Jewish Newsalso produces special editions of the paper highlighting pressing issues including mental health and Holocaust remembrance.
Easy access
In an age when news is readily accessible, Jewish News provides high-quality content free online and offline, removing any financial barriers to connecting people.
Voice of our community to wider society
The Jewish News team regularly appears on TV, radio and on the pages of the national press to comment on stories about the Jewish community. Easy access to the paper on the streets of London also means Jewish News provides an invaluable window into the community for the country at large.
We hope you agree all this is worth preserving.
