In Grief, Israeli Family Questions Army Aid to Settlers
December 18, 2002 
By IAN FISHER 
NY Times

HADERA, Israel, Dec. 17 - She refused to cry. But there was no masking the rage
that Yaffa Yaacoby aimed at the four young men, one bearing a submachine gun,
who came to her house today to pay their respects to her dead daughter. 

"Tell me," she asked the men, all members of a small settlement near the Tomb
of the Patriarchs in the West Bank city of Hebron, "is it worth it - the cave,
the holy places - for my daughter and the other people who died? I speak from
my heart. Look at me. I am only 40 years old. Today and every day after this, I
have to wake up and face the fact that I buried my daughter. 

"Do you realize there isn't a piece of land worth these lives?" 

Settlers vehemently dispute this view, saying that the West Bank is both their
biblical birthright and a buffer of security against Arab states. They argue
that settlements are an investment in holding on to that land, and therefore
that an army presence is necessary and justified. 

Today, in grief, this central argument in Israeli society played itself out in
a living room here as the Yaacoby family sat shiva in mourning for their oldest
daughter, Keren, 19, killed last Thursday with a fellow soldier while guarding
the contentious Jewish settlement. 

Keren, shot by Palestinian gunmen, was the first woman in Israel's Army to die
in combat since fighting broke out anew in September 2000. 

But her death has received intense news media coverage here, primarily because
her family has been outspoken in asking why, exactly, Israeli soldiers like
their daughter are guarding the settlement of only 450 religious and well-armed
Jews, perched dangerously amid some 150,000 Palestinians in Hebron. 

Many left-leaning Israelis argue that all the Jewish settlements dotted around
the Palestinian West Bank and Gaza Strip are a block to an ultimate peace
settlement, as well as an unnecessary danger to the Israeli soldiers who guard
them. The settlements, they argue, also stand as a daily provocation to the
Palestinians. 

The four settlers tried today to contest such opinions. They sought to convince
Keren's family, over graciously offered cups of coffee, of their point of view.
They explained that they see themselves as serving the interests of the Jewish
people by expanding Israel's reach, in their case astride the cave they believe
Abraham bought to entomb himself and his family. 

"This is the land of Israel," one said. 

Keren's father, Yigal, 46, snapped back. "So are the Euphrates and the Tigris,"
he said, referring to rivers that flow through modern-day Turkey, Syria and
Iraq. "Go live there." 

The feelings of Israelis about the settlements are complex, and no less so for
this family, whose members say they do not oppose all settlements. But they are
adamantly against the Israeli Army guarding the isolated Hebron settlement,
where last month 12 Israeli soldiers, border police officers and security
guards were killed in an ambush only yards from where Keren and her colleague,
Maor Chalfon, died. 

Settlers have often reacted to the deaths of soldiers who guard them by
demanding further restrictions on Palestinians or by expanding their
settlements to memorialize the dead. But in this case, the Yaacoby family might
prove to be an obstacle. Mr. Yaacoby is the local chairman of the Shinui
political party, which has gained popularity in recent years with its
opposition to special legal privileges, like exemption from military service,
for religious Israelis, many of them settlers. 

"I feel they sacrificed my daughter on the altar of the fanatic Jews in
Hebron," Mr. Yaacoby said. "I feel the army must go out of Hebron and leave the
settlers to protect themselves. It may be the Holy Land, but it's a very
dangerous land." 

Since the 12 people died last month, tensions in Hebron have been running at a
high pitch. The settlers have erected new buildings on the site of that attack,
and the government is also planning to raze a dozen or more Palestinian houses
to build a protected walkway from there to the larger Jewish settlement of
Qiryat Arba, less than half a mile away. 

It was near there, in a curve in the road, that Keren Yaacoby was pulling guard
duty with her friend, Mr. Chalfon, in a concrete bunker near a row of
Palestinian houses on Thursday night. Just after 8 p.m., the two stepped out of
the bunker, according to the military, and shots rained down from the top floor
of a nearby building. Mr. Chalfon died on the way to the hospital. Ms. Yaacoby
died from bullet wounds to her neck. 

The Israeli military believes that there were two gunmen. Both escaped. 

Today, the Yaacoby family sat shiva in their house - in which by tradition
pictures and mirrors were removed from the white walls - both celebrating
Keren's short life and puzzling over it a little, too. 

The oldest of three girls, she grew up in a house where, the family members
said, they allowed her independence and the freedom to make her own decisions.
She was a good student, learning Arabic in high school. She worked in a local
coffee shop and saved enough money to go to Greece last year for eight days,
just before she began her mandatory military service. 

Family photos showed a pretty young woman, dark with curly hair and a big
smile, dressed in jeans. After she died, the family developed a roll of film
that showed her in a way they had not seen her: in her green uniform, holding a
rifle, with black combat paint on her face. 

It is something of mystery to them why she embraced a job with a combat unit so
readily. After basic training, she was assigned to the military police in
Hebron and apparently found satisfaction in the tension and tight camaraderie
of one of the military's more dangerous assignments - keeping the militants of
both sides apart. "This is the time she tasted what it is to be a fighter," her
father speculated. "It is like a drug. When you taste it, you can't stop." 

Erit David, 45, her homeroom teacher for fifth and sixth grade, said her
willingness to tackle such a tough assignment "surprised me very much too." 

"I knew her both socially and in school," he said. "She had everything she
needed. She never had to fight for it." 

But she was, by her family's account, dedicated and even-handed. She often
worked for a month straight, coming home last month only after her worried
mother threatened to go get her (and so by chance was home when the other 12
died last month). 

A while back, she came home with bruises on her hand and arm - inflicted by
Jewish settlers, she said, as she helped break up a scuffle between Jews and
Palestinians. 

Her mother said she prevented settlers from attacking Palestinian houses. 

"I once asked her, `How do you treat the Arabs?' " Mrs. Yaacoby said. "She
said, `What kind of question is that? What do you think? They are people like
all of us.' " 

But that does not make her any less angry, not only with the settlers but with
the Palestinians who shot her daughter as well. 

"Those murderers," she said. "They didn't come out to fight. They came out to
murder her. And it won't break us."

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