Sometimes, truth is counterintuitive. For Israel, insights of classical mythology could help to understand the country’s survival options.

From ancient Greece, Jerusalem could learn that Olympian gods had condemned Sisyphus to roll a huge rock to the top of a mountain — and the stone would fall back of its own weight. By rendering this judgment, the deities imposed a punishment of interminable and useless labor. Simultaneously, they revealed something paradoxical about human life in general:

Useless labor need not be meaningless. Amid tragic circumstances, such labor can even be heroic.

As a metaphor, Israel is Sisyphus. Foreseeably, for the Jewish State, the gargantuan rock will always roll back to its point of origin. So why should “Sisyphus” push?

For Israel, there is no comprehensive military solution to its multiple security problems. Accordingly, in the heroic fashion of Sisyphus, Israelis will need to accept the burden of incessant conflict and avoid continuously contrived remedies (e.g., the childishly-imagined “Abraham Accords”). But what then?

For Israel, though difficult to understand, the burden of perpetual conflict is not the “worst case.” That case is not to endure one war or terror attack after another. Rather, it is to try to work its way free from the penalties of an absurd geopolitics by knowingly enlarging the absurdity. A pertinent example of this self-defiling contradiction would be for Israel to wittingly carve “Palestine” from its own still-living body.

Let us return to the elucidating Greek myth. Israel should recall that Sisyphus is not a pathetic figure. He is a heroic and tragic figure. This is because he labored valiantly, against all odds, and in spite of an all-too-conspicuous futility.

Today, 20 years after Ariel Sharon’s Gaza “disengagement,” hopes for “Palestinian demilitarization” endure. These are inherently vain hopes. For the moment, the theatrical genre portrayed by this durability can be described as “farce.” Resembling the bleak and minimalist poetics of Samuel Beckett, the unraveling “play” is meaningful but still preposterous. True tragedy contains calamity, but it may also reveal greatness. In the final analysis, such greatness means heroic attempts to endure misfortune without losing hope.

The Jewish people have always accepted an obligation to ward off disasters “as needed.” Formally, at least, Jews have understood that all humans have “free will.” Saadia Gaon included freedom of the will among the central teachings of Judaism, and Maimonides affirmed that human beings must stand alone in the world “to know what is good and what is evil, with none to prevent him from either doing good or evil.”

For Israel, free will should be oriented toward life — to the blessing, not the curse. Israel’s highest obligation should be to strive in the direction of individual and collective self-preservation by using refined intelligence and disciplined acts of will. Where such striving would be limited to narrowly-tactical remedies, the outcome could never rise to the dignifying levels of tragedy.

In the ancient Greek vision of “high tragedy,” there is clarity on one key point: The tragic victim is one whom “the gods kill for their sport, as wanton boys do flies.” It is precisely this wantonness, this caprice, that makes a situation authentically tragic. Otherwise, it would merely display pathos.

In proper theatrical terminology, there is tragedy but there is also farce. In farce, matters may end badly, but sometimes there is a last-minute rescue by deus ex machine, a “god in the machine.” By definition, of course, no “god in the machine” could rescue a Jewish state. To recall the specifically Jewish commentary of Rabbi Yania: “A man should never put himself in a place of danger, and say that a miracle will save him, lest there be no miracle….” (Talmud, Sota 32a and Codes; Yoreh De’ah 116).

Aristotle understood, in Poetics, that true tragedy must elicit pity and fear, but not pathos. Pathos is unheroic suffering. Moreover, the Greek philosopher identified tragedy with characters who are “good,” who suffer only because they commit grave error (hamartia) unknowingly.

The promise of meaningful Israeli peace with a persistently murderous adversary, whether Iran, “Palestine,” or others, has always been a delusion. Nonetheless, for Jerusalem, protracted war or terror could hardly represent a coherent policy choice. Quo Vadis?

Like Sisyphus, Israel must learn to understand that its “rock,” the agonizingly heavy stone of national survival, will never remain securely at the summit. Still, it must continuously struggle without tying collective survival to transient tactical victories or some imagined condition of “total victory.” Truth is exculpatory. Israel must prepare to labor against the ponderous “rock” for no other reason than to endure.   

For Israel, true heroism lies in recognizing something far beyond normal understanding: Pain and uncertainty are not necessarily unbearable; sometimes, they must be borne with full faith and equanimity. Failing such tragic awareness, the government and people of Israel would continue to grasp at tactical victories and illusory remedies. The most illusory remedy of all is “total victory.”

Israel is not Sisyphus, and there is no reason to believe it must endure without personal and collective satisfactions. Even if finally made aware that the struggle toward a permanently-receding summit may define “success,” the Jewish State could still learn that tragic struggle would be heroic.

To survive into the future, Israel’s only real choice will be to keep rolling the rock upwards, not surrender to any vacant political or diplomatic promises. On all the official maps of authoritative Palestinian decision-makers, not just Hamas, Israel has been sentenced to cartographic disappearance. On these maps, ipso facto, Israel has already suffered a virtual extermination. The best way to keep such extermination figurative is not to seek “total victory,” but to struggle heroically for sequentially achievable goals.

Unlike Sisyphus, Israel and its people can still enjoy palpable achievements and multiplying satisfactions. Like Sisyphus, Israel should recognize that though its life will require perpetual struggle, the struggle itself could be ennobling.

Prof. Louis René Beres was educated at Princeton (Ph.D., 1971) and is the author of many books and scholarly articles dealing with international law, nuclear strategy, nuclear war, and terrorism. In Israel, Prof. Beres was Chair of Project Daniel (PM Sharon). His 12th and latest book is Surviving Amid Chaos: Israel’s Nuclear Strategy (Rowman & Littlefield, 2016; 2nd ed., 2018).