As fears mount of an Allied attack on Iraq, war jitters have broken out in Israel with 50,000 people visiting gas mask distribution centres on one day last week, reports Helen Schary Motro
My daughter has an orthodontist appointment on January 23rd. Fearing her bite plate might be pre-empted by missiles, I inquired whether the visit could be moved up.
"Don't worry," the receptionist assured me, "everyone knows the war can't start until after the UN inspectors report to the Security Council on January 27th. She'll be just fine on the 23rd." This week my friend ordered tickets over the phone on her credit card for a February 6th performance of the visiting Irish troupe "The Spirit of the Dance" in Tel-Aviv.
At the end of her order, the operator recited the standard words of caution: "These tickets are non-returnable and non-exchangeable."
"But what if there is a war!" exclaimed my friend. "Of course if the performance is cancelled, your money will be refunded," the non-plussed operator replied.
These are the sort of macabre exchanges creeping into all facets of daily plans people are making for the days ahead in Israel. Until now the Israeli public, harried by the daily flow of local tumult, dealt with the possibility of war as a contingency whose due date to worry about hadn't yet arrived.
Suddenly war jitters have broken out. Perhaps it was the dire furrows on Bush's brow. Perhaps it was the approach of the dead of winter, when the pundits predict an American attack. Perhaps it was the collective memory of the Gulf War which erupted 13 Januarys ago.
Whatever the reason, the Israeli public and the authorities - are suddenly taking the war too seriously. The front pages are full of articles on whether war will happen and what to do if it does. For example the press gave large coverage to the vacillations of befuddled health authorities as they tried to reach a consensus on policy towards smallpox shots. To inoculate everyone? To give boosters to those inoculated in the past? To inoculate on a voluntary basis?
With concern focused on the possible side effects of the injection, on December 25th the announcement was made that only 24,000 medical defence personnel will receive the shot. Yet the day after that decision, the Jerusalem Post nevertheless devoted four prominent articles to smallpox, including descriptions of the rash and blisters, the contagion period, persons who should not be vaccinated such as those allergic to eggs, the risk to pregnant women and foetuses, and graphic details of vaccine side effects.
In short, if someone was relatively calm before he opened the paper, he would be full of trepidation by they time he closed it. The phones have been ringing off the hook at the Home Front Command hotline which provides information about gas mask distribution. By the bar code of a mask received in the past, the hotline can check over the phone if the gas mask needs updating, either because the filter or the injection against nerve gas included in the kit have passed their expiration dates.
Since the Gulf War, all Israeli residents have been issued gas masks without charge. Mask distribution centres are open on a regular basis for exchange of old masks. Normally the centres are staffed with bored soldiers standing around telling each other jokes and waiting for the hours to pass.
But in times of crisis, everybody seems to wake up at once, realize they haven't traded in their old equipment, and make a beeline for the centres. This happened most recently in the weeks following the World Trade Center attacks.
Suddenly the mask centres are jammed again. This fall 4,000 to 5,000 visited daily nationwide. This week saw a tenfold increase: 50,000 people on December 24th alone.
Neither tourists nor Israel's 500,000 foreign workers are entitled to masks at present. But if the government declares a state of emergency, masks will be distributed to tourists in hotels. Other tourists and foreign workers will receive masks upon a $40 deposit.
During the Gulf War people were encouraged to carry on with "normal activities" - but keep masks at arms reach. I have a photo from 1991 of my toddler in front of the elephant at the zoo.
From her buggy dangles not only the bag with her bottle of apple juice, but two cardboard boxes: one with her mask, one with mine. It's a scenario I don't want to repeat again with her as a young teen. But it is looking like she may be soon going off to her swim team laden with a gas mask as well as her bathing suit.
• Helen Schary Motro, an American lawyer and writer living in Israel, teaches at the Tel-Aviv University Law School.