Fima - Amos Oz [80]
Fima turned off the radio and called Annette Tadmor: he owed her an apology for his behavior. At the very least he should show some interest in her welfare. For all he knew, her husband might have had enough of his Italian operetta and returned sheepishly in the middle of the night, lugging a couple of suitcases, falling to the ground and kissing her feet. Was it possible that she had confessed to him what had happened? Was the husband liable to show up here with a loaded pistol? Out of habit or morning vagueness, Fima dialed Tsvi Kropotkin's number by mistake. Tsvi chuckled and said that although he was actually in the middle of shaving he had already asked himself what had become of Fima this morning: had he forgotten us? Tsvi's sarcasm eluded Fima.
"What do you mean, Tsvika? Of course I haven't forgotten you. I never would. I just thought for a change I shouldn't call you too early. You see, little by little I'm improving. There may be some hope for me yet."
Tsvi promised to call back in five minutes, as soon as he had finished shaving.
After half an hour Fima swallowed his pride and called Tsvi again:
"Well? So who's forgotten whom? Can you spare me a couple of minutes?" And without waiting for an answer he said that he needed some advice about an article he'd started writing in the night, and now this morning he wasn't certain he still agreed with himself. The question was this. Two days ago in Ha'arets there was a report of a speech by Günter Grass to a student audience in Berlin. It was a courageous, decent speech. Grass had denounced the Nazi period and gone on to denounce all trendy parallels between the atrocities of our own day and Rider's crimes, including the often-heard comparison with Israel and South Africa. So far so good.
"Fima," said Tsvi, "I read it. We talked about it the day before yesterday. Get to the point. Explain your problem."
"I'm just coming to it," said Fima. "But first, just explain one thing to me, Tsvika. Why does this Grass insist on referring to the Nazis as 'they,' whereas you and I, all these years, whenever we write about the occupation, the corruption of values, the oppression in the Territories, even about the Lebanon War, always and without exception use the pronoun Ve'? And Grass was actually a soldier with the Wehrmacht! The same as the other one, Heinrich Boll. He wore the swastika and had to give the Nazi salute every morning and shout 'Heil Hitler' with the rest of them. And now he calls them 'them.' Whereas I, who have never set foot in Lebanon, who have never served in the Territories, so that my conscience is clearer than Günter Grass's, regularly say and write 'we.' 'Our wrongdoings.' And even 'the innocent blood we have shed.' What is it, that 'we'? Something left over from the War of Independence: We are always at the ready, we are here, we're the Palmach? Who is this 'we,' anyway? Me and Rabbi Levinger? You and Rabbi Kahane? What does it mean, exactly? Have you ever thought about it, Professor? Perhaps the time has come when you and I and all of us should follow the example of Grass and Böll. Maybe we should all start saying, exclusively, consciously, and emphatically: 'they.' What do you think?"
"Look," Tsvi said wearily, "the thing is with them it's all in the past, whereas with us it's still going on, and that's why."
"Are you out of your mind?" Fima cut in with an explosion of rage. "Can you hear what you're saying? What d'you mean, with them it's in the past, whereas with us it's still going on? What the hell do you mean by 'it'? What precisely is it according to you that is over and done with in Berlin but still goes on in Jerusalem? Have you gone crazy, Professor? What you're doing is putting them and us on the same level! Worse still, you're implying that the Germans have a moral advantage over us, because they've finished and poor old us, we're still at it. Who do you think you are? George Steiner?