Exodus II : Israel: The immigration of Soviet Jews to Israel presents massive problems and unprecedented opportunities. But most Israelis are apathetic. It’s business as usual.

JERUSALEM â€”  The new immigrants are already here. In their droves: We now see them everywhere, in the street, in the bank, by the seashore, at work; still strangers, apprehensive, speaking broken Hebrew, staggered by the sweltering Israeli summer, strolling together, entire families, two by two, still scared of facing this New World alone. Sixty thousand have arrived since the beginning of the year; 150,000 will have arrived by the end of it. There are those who even speak of a million immigrants coming over the next four years. It’s a bit dizzying, like inhaling too much pure oxygen: a million new Jews coming to the Land of Israel. After all, we’re less than 4 million. Imagine: It’s almost as if 60 million new Americans were to flood the shores of the United States, all at once. . . .

We see them at Ben Gurion Airport, and for an instant they seem like the Jews of the past: Perhaps it’s their clothing, perhaps their language; maybe it’s their facial features or the moment of their encounter with Israel that stirs us, the “veterans,� sending an ancient shiver through us. For Zionism had its start there, in Pinsk and Odessa and Moscow. And it was there, in those provinces, more than 100 years ago, that young Jews--their faces the faces of these young men and women, their language the same language--rose up and came to this hot and hostile land, dreaming an impossible dream: to establish a Jewish state.

Now, their descendants welcome the descendants of those who did not come, then.

This, by the way, is our chance to see ourselves as they do, their questioning eyes a mirror reflecting what we’ve achieved and built here and where we’ve failed. We stare back at them: How easily we could have been in their shoes! One small, capricious change in our grandparents’ fates would have been enough to have kept us there, like them, so that, like them, we would have come here now to look around us in trepidation and wonder: So, this is the Jewish state? This is the reality of the dream of generations? Now these two communities--sisters still so distant--stride toward one another, powerfully aware of the deep significance of national and personal destiny, of the personal historic pulse now beating through them, of the marvel of this alternate biography. . . .

But the economy, I remind myself anxiously, what about our miserable economy? How will we absorb a professional, high-quality work force into an economy that has for years been sunk in recession and unemployment? How will the Israeli market, which has not grown for 20 years, assimilate hundreds of thousands of new citizens and at the same time provide a solution for all the young Israelis who lack homes and jobs? Thousands of young Israeli couples have already been deprived of their rented apartments by landlords who prefer the immigrants, for whom the government pays high rents. These young men and women have flocked to public parks to protest the government giving the best of everything to the immigrants while denying housing and employment to those who have given their country so much. Theirs is a broad-based protest movement, steeped in bitterness.

How will we get through the first two crucial years until investments in a new infrastructure--if there will be any--begin to bear fruit? How will we create suitable jobs for scores of academics, scientists, engineers and doctors, when there are no jobs for them in Israel today?

In one respect, we are lucky: We have no choice. Unlike other nations, Israel does not set immigration quotas according to her needs. Israel was established as a homeland and a refuge for the Jewish people, and she welcomes all comers. To this end, emergency steps are needed, a jolt to the collective Israeli consciousness. The government has already shown willingness to provide this jolt: Emergency construction laws have been ratified and provisions have been made to cut red tape, shorten the absorption process, and integrate the new immigrants into society as quickly as possible.

But more than this is needed: We must encourage investments, increase government involvement in expanding our infrastructure, establish highway and communications systems that will tighten all regions of the country, minimize government intervention in capital markets, encourage private investment, provide tax breaks, develop super-sophisticated industry.

Will we succeed?

Everyone knows it: The immigrants are our big chance. This is perhaps the first wave of immigration since the establishment of the state that has not been seen as a burden by those absorbing it. Quite the contrary: Many sense that this wave of immigration will benefit the state no less than Israel will benefit the immigrants. Perhaps this great wave will even carry Israel to economic growth: The market will flourish, supply and demand will burgeon, production capacity will expand, all branches of the infrastructure will get a shot in the arm, and new energy--brought by many educated people, whose training (worth billions of dollars) was not financed by Israel but will be channeled into the private sector.

We’ve been given a great gift--superior human stuff: people thirsty for work who long to fit in and become an integral part of this society, people still fired by the spirit of challenge and motivated by the great opportunity suddenly within their grasp--among them, a huge community of educated intellectuals, scientists and artists--what an overwhelming opportunity for our society, for our culture.

Will we succeed?

I watch them as they disembark, and again I ponder the challenges and existential questions that daily life poses to the Israeli: Every few years we are forced--by dint of peril or positive development--to re-examine and redefine the parameters of our existence, our ideals, and our identity. Of course, it’s possible to avoid them--even in the eyes of such storms one may remain tethered to the routine--but for anyone who wants and is willing to enjoy this human right, to dare to remake himself every day anew, Israel presents a plethora of possibilities.

Of course, then, there is the political question. No one knows for sure how the new immigrants will influence political trends in Israel. Though they don’t actually plan to settle in the occupied territories (would you settle there, in the heart of the intifada, if you had just escaped Russia by the skin of your teeth?), it is generally assumed that they lean toward the right. Like most of those who have fled communist regimes, they bristle whenever a left wind blows. The Labor Party may pay a heavy price for this. In any event, it is clear that the more the Arabs resist this immigration, the more extreme the immigrants will become. The right, for its part, sees in this wave of immigration the decisive reinforcement of its claims and platform, and is trying harder than ever to suspend any political development until new demographic facts are established. This is indeed a grave problem. Heaven forbid that it even marginally affects the absorption of these immigrants. When saving lives, you don’t ask the political persuasion of those in danger. Ironically, the current situation has opened the door to some positive change: Fear of adversely affecting the wave of immigration has already caused the extreme right to desist from establishing and expanding settlements--for now. This is a clear signal to all those who are interested in peace and who fear for Israel’s long-term security: We must take advantage of this rare moment, which may not come again, and spur the implacable Israeli government toward negotiation and compromise. The United States, which so generously supports this wave of immigration, now has the right to demand that the government of Israel finally show some flexibility and dynamism.

After all, the great question that is borne on this wave of immigration is not how many of us will live here, but what kind of life we will live here; whether we will succeed in creating, together, a reality that these immigrants will want to continue to live in, or whether they will leave in droves, as have hundreds of thousands of young Israelis who have tired of wars, of a poor economy and of hopelessness.

Alas, there is no avoiding the woeful realization that had the governments of Israel wisely and courageously taken advantage of viable opportunities present since the peace with Egypt, we would be in much better condition. Israel could have enticed those who had left her to return. And she could have provided a more stable environment for those who did come.

But all of our governments have failed at this, especially those headed by the Likud: During the last few years the Israeli right has employed the dangerous tactics of stall and stalemate. Every blessed political initiative proffered--inside or outside of Israel--has been rejected by Yitzhak Shamir and his cadres. Shamir has taken a great risk by adopting a policy of total recalcitrance. Surely, he knows that the spirit of a leader influences, and sometimes shapes--for better or ill--the spirit of a nation. It seems that sometimes a tactic can become a double-edged sword. It is increasingly apparent, during this new hour of trial, that what Shamir has offered Israelis in the last few years is immeasurably dangerous.

In the face of the present surge of immigration, and despite the crucial importance which all attribute to it, most Israelis are apathetic: It’s business as usual, with only those dealing directly with immigrant absorption (and even they have awakened too late) acting as heralds, trying in vain to arouse public opinion. No one is really moved. No one alters his daily routine. Few in Israel are able today to conceive the new Zionist vision that the immigrants bring. No tidal wave of ideological fervor like the one that engulfed us during the immigration of the 1950s could now succeed in awakening and shaking an Israeli society beleaguered by wars and the intifada, by the difficult economic situation and the lack of leadership.

Would that this desolate wind might not batter us, weakening us in the face of so monumental a challenge. Would that we might know how to take in these immigrants and, through them, be revitalized.