national backing to respond with
overwhelming force to any attack
on sovereign Israeli territory. So
far, however, this has failed to
create a deterrent balance.
For months, Palestinians have
been firing Kassam rockets
at the town of Sderot. When
Israeli retaliatory shelling killed
Palestinian civilians, the interna-
tional outcry has been resound-

ing. Right-wing politicians now
are pressing the government to
launch a large-scale attack on
Gaza to restore the army's deter-
rence.
"We should send the follow-
ing message to the Palestinians:
If you go on doing what you
are doing, we will inflict such
damage on you that it won't be
worth your while:" said Effie

Eitam, a former brigadier general
and legislator from the right-
wing National Union-National
Religious Party bloc.
The persistent Palestinian
attacks also are undermining
Israeli public support for a uni-
lateral pullback from the West
Bank. "The demographic threat
at the root of the plan sounds
frightening, but it is still distant

.

and not palpable. The Kassams
and the Hamas are nearby and
obvious to everyone," political
commentator Aluf Benn wrote in
Ha'aretz.
Where is all this heading
— toward escalation and a
total breakdown of order on
the Palestinian side? Is it the
final jockeying for position
by Palestinian factions before

they accept a cease-fire? Or will
there be a familiar, two-pronged
Palestinian policy, with moder-
ates negotiating with Israel while
radicals attack it?
Olmert still sees unilateral
withdrawal as the best answer
to all these unsavory scenarios
— but decision time on both
sides of the border seems to be
rapidly approaching. E

Living In Fear

Rockets raining down on Sderot take their toll on schools and kids.

•
Uriel Heilman
Jewish Telegraphic Agency

Sderot, Israel

E

leven-year-old Shir
Lazmi says she loves
going to school. Why?
Because she's not really allowed
to go anywhere else. That's
because Shir lives in Sderot,
where months of intense rocket
fire by Palestinians from the
nearby Gaza Strip have all but
confined schoolchildren like her
to the few places where they have
both adult supervision and close
proximity to a room with a rein-
forced roof.
"I'm less scared in school;'
Shir says after a Bible competi-
tion marking the last week of the
school year. "I can't go out with
friends. I can't go to the pool any-
more. But I can see my friends
here at school!'
Years of Kassam rocket fire
have shattered the sense of
normalcy in this desert town.
The fire has become so intense
in recent weeks — often three
or four rockets a day — that
daily life has come to a virtual
standstill. Real estate values have
plummeted, businesses have
closed, people are moving away
and nearly everyone says they
live in constant fear of sudden
death from above.
Sderot's schools have been par-
ticularly hard-hit, and not just
by the Kassams. The schools also

have been trying to maintain
a normal routine in a veritable
war zone. With summer vacation
starting, many parents say they
don't know what they're going to
do with their kids.
Dina Hori, principal of Sderot's
Torani Madani elementary
school, confesses that it's hard to
project normalcy when the Red
Dawn emergency system goes off
and the kids have no more than
a few seconds to 'rush into rein-
forced-roof classrooms before a
rocket lands somewhere in town
with a loud boom.
The children have learned to
huddle under their desks and put
their hands over their heads, in
a scene reminiscent of the 1950s
United States.
Around the city, gashes are
visible in the pavement where
Kassams have landed; many are
in or near schools. Just two weeks
ago, a rocket hit AMIT's yeshiva
high school. Nobody was injured.
But the rockets have terrorized
an entire city and, in the process,
transformed life here. Teachers
come to school red-eyed and dis-
traught, unable to focus on their
teaching. Parents are trauma-
tized, and they pass on their fears
to their children. Lesson plans
are scuttled when rockets boom
nearby, and students must be
calmed by teachers whose own
nerves are frayed.
Teachers often take out guitars
and try to get the kids singing
after an attack. Nevertheless,

many students appear to be
developing psychological prob-
lems, insisting on sleeping near
their parents at night, experienc-
ing frequent bouts of panic and
easily bursting into tears.
The long-term psychological
effects of the attacks, which have
been a presence here since 2001
but have intensified since Israel's
Gaza Strip withdrawal last year,
remain unknown.
Perhaps most difficult, teach-
ers and students say, is that fami-
lies are moving away. That means
that those who remain are losing
their friends, too. School officials
estimate that the student popu-
lation has fallen by at least 15
percent over the past year. Some
parents have sent their children
to live with relatives in safer cit-
ies. Others have pulled their kids
out of school and insisted on
keeping them home.
A few have moved away —
even though there are practically
no home-buyers to replace them
in a city that has become a target
for Palestinian terrorists.
"Life here has been completely
overturned;' says Arie Maimon,
representative of the AMIT net-
work of schools in Sderot. "It's
like Chinese torture, waking up
three times a night to be rushed
into a protected room. The situa-
tion is only getting worse!'
Still, children in town say they
don't want to leave. "I don't want
to leave because my friends are
here Shir says. "I love my house.

I love my school. I love every-
thing in Sderot."
Sometimes, Shir says, she
hears her parents talk about

moving away. "I tell my parents
they can go:' she says. "I'm not
leaving." ❑

Photo by Brian Hendler/JTA

Shalom Halevy
points at one of

two holes made by
a Kassam rocket
June 13 at Netiv
Yeshivati High

School in Sderot.

June 29 • 2006

57

