I think about this as a dual citizen of Israel and the United States. My elementary and middle school years were defined by fear—from monthly bomb shelter drills, in case of another missile attack (Israel had, after all, just emerged from the Gulf War), to the regular stern reminders at school that we must be vigilant and report any suspicious item (“hefetz hashud”) seen at school or on the street. Any strange backpack, small bag, even a takeout container or a pizza box—anything that does not seem to readily belong to someone else was to be reported right away. Otherwise, it could kill. Everyone, from the youngest child up, knew this. This was, after all, how a spree of terrorist attacks on buses and in other public spaces had taken place—beginning with a backpack seemingly forgotten by someone on a seat as he exited the bus or the coffee shop.
But it is not fear alone that rules in Israel now.
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