Last night I attended a large demonstration in Tel Aviv. It was organized by several groups to protest the Israeli government's efforts to force people to get injected with a drug, persecute those who resist, and turn the country into a medical police state.
I hadn't been to Tel Aviv in over a year. As we drove through the heart of the city it was clear that Tel Aviv had changed a lot. Most of the stores were closed, the streets were dimly lit, and there was little human traffic. The heart of the city barely had a pulse.
I'd gotten a ride from Jerusalem with a fun bunch of people I was meeting for the first time. We were going to meet a few people from the upstart Rapeh party outside the Fashion Mall and go to the protest together. The Rapeh party is running on a platform of standing up for human rights, no lockdowns, no forced vaccinations, and no discrimination of any kind against those who choose not to vaccinate. Our main goal for the night was to spread information about the party with attendees of the protest, who were natural supporters.
We parked in an underground parking garage adjacent to the mall. The guard at the entrance instructed us to put on masks before letting us down the ramp. One person in our group argued with him, and ultimately wrapped a scarf across his face momentarily. Naturally the masks came off immediately after we rode past him, which the guard surely knew would happen. But he was just following orders.
The parking garage was almost entirely deserted. It wasn't clear how to get out, and there were no people to follow. We tried to walk out the way we drove in, but the guard refused to let us exit that way. Forbidden. We would have to walk through the garage, enter the mall, and exit to the street from there.
If the tyrants in power assemble Einsatzgruppen to go house to house injecting people (as the criminal Deri openly lusted for) this guy would sign right up. A paycheck is a paycheck, and a tiny amount of authority gives meaning to an otherwise purposeless existence.
Walking through the mall was a surreal experience. It was like a scene from a movie about the post-apocalypse. The mall was dimly lit and all the stores were closed. There was hardly a soul to be found, and not a single mall employee. One clothing store had the gate only half closed, and anyone could have walked right in. It was as if they didn't care anymore and just gave up.
It was early evening and the weather was beautiful, but the streets were mostly deserted. The bustling city was reduced to restaurants offering take-out, groceries, pharmacies, and a few pedestrians. The despots talk about "opening up the economy". It needs to be brought back from the dead – and they are the ones who killed it.
We found our way to HaBima Square, hoping to find maybe a couple of hundred protestors. The place was packed. My new friends from Rapeh, who I had just met and who themselves had only joined about a week ago, handed out a bunch of flyers for us to distribute. They were really well-done, English on one side, Hebrew on the other.
I did not know that I would be asked to distribute flyers; I thought I'd just attend the protest like everyone else. Stopping people and offering them a flyer is also not something that caters to my personality. Nevertheless, I wanted to help, and I was glad to have something to do besides stand around and listen to speeches.
It's annoying when someone says hello and sticks a flyer in your face. I expected most people to ignore me or brush me off. To my amazement, just the opposite happened. Before I knew it my pile of flyers was gone. I needed to get seconds and thirds, and eventually ran out completely. Some people accepted them with interest, many others with gratitude. Some people asked for multiple flyers that they could give to others. Many said they already know about Rapeh and are voting for them. Those who declined to take one were polite. I would say about eighty percent of people accepted a flyer.
One man told me he already got vaccinated and supports forcing people to do the same. I speak Hebrew with difficulty even though I understand it very well, and was not prepared to argue with him, even if I were so inclined. Another Israeli overheard his comment and immediately started arguing with him instead. I continued on my way, and could only wonder how the first man found himself at this demonstration. Maybe there was just nothing else to do in Tel Aviv.
The attendees were a cross-section of Israeli society. It was mostly non-religious people, not only because it was Tel Aviv, but because religious people tend to be interested only in a narrow range of issues. The settler types only protest when settlements and their residents are marginalized in some way. They don't get worked up about anything else. The so-called "haredim" only protest when their communities are offended or persecuted in some way. The rest of the country can go to hell for all they care, as long as they are left alone. It's disgraceful, and it creates a negative feedback loop that perpetuates their marginalization.
However, I was glad to see that there were many more religious people last night than I expected. Maybe it was five percent. This might not sound like a lot, but I attended a smaller protest in front of the Supreme Court in Jerusalem a few weeks ago, and I was the only religious person in the crowd of about eighty people. Last night was a massive improvement. People are waking up and joining together.
The atmosphere was overwhelmingly positive, one of camaraderie. A year ago if I found myself at an event with these same people I would feel completely out of place. One of the men who spoke, a lawyer, sported a ponytail and hot pink pants. (He spoke quite well.) There were smokers of various substances, people with hair in colors that matched the lawyer's pants, a religious guy wearing a vest with flashing lights all over it, feminists, people offering something called a fairy passport, religious women with their hair covered in scarves, children, beer-drinkers, a little bit of everything.
I loved them all.
The Erev Rav who run Israel today, these moles who infiltrated our people thousands of years ago and have tried to destroy us from within ever since, have unwittingly done us a critical favor. They have unified the people of Israel like nothing else ever did. The people at last night's protest would previously have gotten together for nothing else, and if they did the air would be thick with tension and hostility.
Last night we were united like one man with one heart, as we were at Har Sinai. We were fighting for our right to live and work in Israel, to breathe the air, to gather with other people, to have total autonomy over what drugs if any we put in our bodies. We demanded that the government uncover its protocols related to the virus and its response to it, which they have hidden for thirty years. We refused to be turned against one another, to hate each other, to blame each other for the situation as the Erev Rav in the government and the media desperately need us to do.
The crowd swelled over the next few hours, and I would estimate there were about two thousand people. It felt like an ingathering of the exiles.
I felt nothing but brotherhood and love as I walked through the crowd handing out flyers. People thanked me. People talked to me. One guy traded me a sticker he was handing out, which was a play on Hebrew signs found at construction sites. "Danger! Here they are building a dictatorship". A woman who belonged to some feminist group – normally an arch enemy – asked me who I was as she took a flyer from a rabbi from Jerusalem. I said I'm nobody. She smiled. Another woman I never met actually recognized me. A cop was taking a video of the event for Big Brother. I offered him a flyer but he declined. So did another cop.
A bunch of cops were milling around outside the protest, watching us mostly with boredom, their faces masked like the little bunch of Gestapo they were. I grew up in America respecting and appreciating police officers for their service. It was a religious and moral duty. We felt safer when the police were around, and we enjoyed kibbitzing with them. For many years a Puerto Rican police officer and his dad played in our local pickup softball game. The former, one of the best players in our game, graciously let me take over shortstop when I came of age.
Although there is no shortage of corruption among American cops, most ordinary cops are proud to risk their lives keeping the streets safe. As tyranny spreads across America today as well, many cops are openly refusing to enforce unjust orders.
The cops in Israel are a different breed. We don't feel safer when we see them; we feel less safe. They aren't working to protect us, but to enforce the edicts of corrupt politicians. You can see the hostility in their eyes, the naked desire to find an excuse to rough someone up. Their faces show no trace of humanity or compassion. They are cold robots with a sadistic streak, and they are given assignments precisely because of that to follow cold, sadistic orders. They fraternize only among themselves, distant from the people they supposedly serve. There are surely some good cops, but as an institution they are a loathsome bunch of bullies in uniforms.
When a few cops started walking through the crowd, a man with a megaphone sent them scurrying back to their police vans as we cheered. "You're not keeping us safe!" he yelled at them. "Get out of here!" I loved him.
Several of the speakers emphasized a message of unity. This was real unity, not the meaningless buzzword we often hear. At one point someone on the stage called out Shema Yisrael Hashem Elokeinu Hashem Echad, and many in the crowd repeated it. Then he called out Hashem Hu HaElokim. Suffice it to say that I was not expecting this; we were at HaBima in Tel Aviv, not the Siyum HaShas. Later on they sang Gesher tzar me'od, a spiritual song: "The whole world is a narrow bridge and the main thing is not to be afraid." The crowd was really into it.
The media almost completely ignored this event. I saw one unidentified news camera filming the event and a few interviews. Other than that, zilch. Thousands of people from all over Israel gathered in Tel Aviv to fight for their basic human rights, in a spirit of unity and brotherhood that we never see, and the media had no interest in it. It never happened. That tells you all you need to know. They are Erev Rav.
Just as remarkable, not a single incumbent politician attended the protest. We have an election coming up in about a month. You would expect politicians to be hungry for votes, particularly from the smaller parties. You would expect them to latch onto a populist rally for human rights and jump on the bandwagon.
Not one. That really tells you all you need to know. They have all sold out. They have all been corrupted. They are all working for someone else. They are all supporting tyranny against the people of Israel.
I also couldn't help but notice the almost complete absence of political advertisements on the roads. You wouldn't even know there is an election coming up; the politicians are hardly even bothering to campaign. I've lived in Israel for nearly 13 years and have never seen anything like this. Normally you can't escape the political campaigns. Now they barely exist.
Why should they bother? At this point it's one big mafia anyway, and they're all part of the club. They don't even make a pretense of caring about the people. You can only distinguish the different parties now by their urgent calls for people to vaccinate and the extreme ways they wish to punish those who don't.
A few people expressed concern that voting for Rapeh would be a "wasted vote" if they don't cross the threshold. I tell them that voting for any other party is a wasted vote, because at this point they are all in cahoots. Not one other party is even making an issue of lockdowns, forced vaccinations, releasing the protocols so the public can be truly informed, and basic human rights. It's literally a matter of life and death. There can be no other issues if you don't have basic human rights. If you don't vote with your conscience, you can't expect leaders to vote with theirs.
After nearly three hours we decided to head back to Jerusalem. The rally was still in full swing.
There was a different guard outside the parking garage. Either the first one ended his shift, or he suffered a coincidence after getting injected.
We wanted to walk down the ramp to our car, but the guard refused to let us. Against the sacred rules. Instead, we had to walk around the building, up some stairs to a fancy apartment complex, walk through a park, then walk through a deserted outdoor market. It was a ghost town. A rare pedestrian walking his dog then guided us to an outdoor elevator in an unlikely place, which took us back down to the street where we came from and outside the Fashion Mall. Another guard outside the mall instructed us to put on masks, even though the mall was deserted and obviously those masks were coming off two steps later.
What sad, pathetic, mindless, miserable, hopeless people. The tyrants are surely pleased with them. Maybe one day they will get an extra food coupon.
The people at the demonstration were real people, with minds, hearts, souls, and purpose. These are real Jews, real human beings. They deserve to be redeemed, regardless of their flaws and shortcomings. I don't know when, and I don't know how, but I know without a shadow of a doubt that God will redeem us. It's either us or them. God can't let them win, and He won't.
It will be quite a celebration when God finally steps in and destroys the evil once and for all. This will come crashing down sooner or later. What a joy it will be to see the tyrants rounded up and hauled off in shame to stand before a tribunal. How wonderful it will be to see the darkness lifted from people's faces, the fear gone from their eyes, their minds clear from the lies and propaganda.
It's going to be a wild and bumpy ride, but with God's help we'll get there. Stay strong. Great days are ahead.