In other disengagement posts, please read OOSJ for the best summary of the real stakes - far more important than who holds Gaza at any given time.

And I think Prof. Jeffrey Woolf has the best ideas for how to properly commemorate the exiting residents of Gaza.

(I can't let one thing pass, though. The first commenter to Prof. Wolff's post linked above argues that the proper response to the disengagement "should be a fight to the finish and not a total surrender." In the same comment, he then argues that the Religious Zionist community should, in the face of seemingly implacable opposition from an enemy (the larger secular society), voluntarily dismantle all yeshivot hesder and completely disengage from the army like the charedim. I'm not sure if the commenter sees the irony in those two arguments.)

Yes, I'm overdue to post on the hitnakut (disengagement) from Gaza, and we're all running out of time. (Can there be a more productive way to spend Tisha B'Av afternoon?). In lieu of a substantive post, I want to throw this question out to Ben, Prof. Wolff, OOSJ and all other interested parties.

Much of the anti-disengagement rage is directed at the defective nature of the plan's adoption. At one extreme, you have the argument that it would have been much more unifying for the country to have assented in a referendum (I strongly agree). At the other extreme, you have arguments that Israel has completely repudiated democracy by adopting the plan. Much of the criticism that I've seen has leaned more towards the latter extreme. But there's another way to look at things. Currently, the anti-disengagement forces can use the lack of a referendum to rationalize that the broader public may actually support their position. That may provide solace in the immediate crises, but is likely to have long-term costs.

Let's assume for a minute that Sharon had submitted the plan to a referendum, and invested some effort in campaigning for it & explaining why he thought it'd be best for the country. And let's assume further that the referendum would have passed by a comfortable margin, which is a pretty reasonable assumption. (Yes, I have seen arguments that the majority of the country does not, in fact, support the disengagement, and would not back it in a referendum. To be blunt, I think that people who believe that are deluding themselves.)

Would a referendum defeat have made it easier for the current disengagement opponents side to accept the plan? Or would it lead to even greater alienation from the larger society? If the editors of the New York Post were temporarily transplanted to Israel, Ma'ariv's headlines might describe a convincing referendum defeat as "ISRAEL TO YESHA: DROP DEAD." Would Rav Medan take some solace in the voting public's assent to the plan, or would his sense of betrayal at the hands of the secular elites be extended to the general public? I don't know what Rav Medan himself would do (though I know people who could ask him), but I suspect that many of his allies, admirers and followers would face the same dilemma. I suspect that the latter may be true. And that is pretty frightening, because those public sentiments will eventually be expressed in a way too unequivocal to be ignored or rationalized away.

I believe that Religious Zionism, its ideals and followers are resilient enough to withstand the crisis of disengagement. (I think that many of those who argue otherwise are predisposed to doubt Religious Zionsim's legitimacy, whether from the secular left or from the charedi right.)
But the procedural flaws in the Israeli government's adoption of the plan - and there were many - shouldn't be used as a rationalization to assume broader support for the Religious Zionist agenda than actually exists. That will only hurt efforts to influence society along Religious Zionist lines.

Happy Anniversary to us...
Happy Anniversary to us...
Happy Anniversary to u-us...
Happy Anniversary to us.

("Us," in this case, means both myself and Mrs. Manhattan, and my brother and sister-in-law. 9 and 3 years, respectively.)