I used to like guns. I have always been fascinated by mechanical ingenuity in all its expressions. I guess the fascination was fueled in my teens by military prep classes and the everlasting threat of a war that would never come.
Not anymore; now I rather hate guns. I have matured and I fear them. I hate wars and their balance of unfair and useless deaths. I prefer to have them far away, weapons and war, far away from me and mine.
Living in Jerusalem, however, I have had to get used to the presence of rifles and pistols; in particular, the veteran M16 and the Israeli-made TAR21, which are most abundant on the streets of the city. I have had to assimilate the proximity with them, coexist with weapons in all imaginable spaces: sacred sites, markets, public transport, elevators!
There are weapons everywhere. Soldiers, police and civilians carry them in public places as normal. Whether walking their children, hand in hand with their partner, on an outing with friends, eating a hamburger on a terrace, in public and even religious events, it is common for an Israeli who owns a weapon to carry it and display it in public with naturalness.
Among the requirements for a civilian to obtain a weapons license is to live in risk areas (practically all of Israel), have military training and pass some psychological tests.
The border police patrolling the city of Jerusalem are heavily armed with assault rifles, pistols, smoke bomb rifles or sonic grenades. Thus, equipped as in a Rambo movie, they patrol the city day and night, especially the Old City. The cadets of military academies visit the city or the museums with their rifles on their shoulders 24 hours a day.
The recruits who complete their military service —compulsory for three years for them and them— go out for a walk with the regulation rifle on their shoulders. It is common to see them in civilian clothes with their friends, having an ice cream or a beer, with the everlasting assault rifle, almost always an M16 visibly old, but effective.
On significant dates, or in the face of escalations in the conflict between Israel and Palestine (which occur frequently), an increase in the number of heavily armed soldiers, including elite troops and civilians who take out rifles and pistols for walks at the request of the government, can be seen on the streets. Government.
So far in 2023 and after the return of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, with the far-right Itamar Ben Gvir as Minister of National Security, the authorities have granted more than 12,000 new licenses to carry weapons. Israel, a country of 9.5 million inhabitants, is close to the figure of 200,000 civilians armed with pistols or assault rifles.
Contrary to what one might think, with so many guns on the street and many in the hands of civilians, there are usually no accidental shootings and there are no shootings in schools or shopping malls, nor lone wolves or supremacists like in the United States. There is a conflict, entrenched for decades, and the shots are limited to it. In the year and a half that I have been in Jerusalem, no tourist or pilgrim has died from a stray bullet, even visitors circulate like rivers through the streets following in the footsteps of Jesus.
But every time I leave the house, I check that the weapons are still there. They say that you get used to everything. I have come to see them as part of the landscape; but, just in case and as a good agnostic, I pray that none are fired near me. The day I leave Jerusalem the time will have come to say goodbye to arms. Wait.
