RUTHFULLY YOURS

On Wednesday, the eve of the Sukkot holiday, a man named Eli Gur illegally entered the Bat Hefer home of his estranged wife, Ronit, and choked her unconscious in front of their two young children. He then ushered five-year-old Yahav and four-year-old Eden into his car and sped away.

Ten minutes later, Ronit awoke and phoned the police, begging them to hurry. As she had told her lawyer and social services authorities weeks earlier, she feared that Eli would take revenge on her for the restraining order imposed on him due to domestic violence charges she had filed. She suspected that this revenge might involve their son and daughter.

Though social workers had determined that, in spite of his aggressive behavior towards his wife, Eli was a responsible and loving father, Ronit clearly knew better than they did what kind of abomination her soon-to-be-ex-husband was capable of carrying out.

While police were rushing to the scene, where they found a freshly penned “I love you, Daddy” greeting card tacked to the fridge, Eli was well on his way to Tel Aviv with his kids.

Police took off in pursuit of Eli’s car, but their efforts would be in vain. Before they managed to catch up with the culprit, Eli had already reached the destination of his premeditated mission. Arriving in the Ramat Aviv neighborhood, bustling with holiday shoppers, Eli took his two babies to the 11th floor balcony of a high-rise building. Once there, he hoisted his son over the ledge and threw him to the pavement, before doing the same to his daughter. He then jumped to his own death. Residents of the building reported hearing three loud thuds. Passersby were traumatized by the sight of the dead family lying on the normally peaceful street.

Immediately, the entire country went into collective shock and horror, making all the other events of the Middle East fade into the background. This is a natural, healthy response of a population that takes individual tragedies personally. But in cases like these, which have become so frequent of late that 11 children have been murdered by one parent or the other in Israel since January, the universal reaction of revulsion goes deeper than pure empathy for the victims.

Indeed, rather than simply mourning for the children and feeling deep sorrow for the surviving parent, there is a knee-jerk attempt to explain the phenomenon in familiar and comfortable terms. Instead of acknowledging that there is such a thing as evil in this world and in our midst, we engage in intellectual and psychological exercises whose ultimate aim is to give us the illusion of control and immunity.

It is no wonder, then, that the main discussion accompanying the massive media coverage of all such incidents focuses on blaming the social service and psychiatric “authorities” for being asleep on the job. This latest demonic act, committed by Eli Gur, is no exception.

No sooner had we finished weeping for the dead children and their emotionally destroyed mother, who has said that she no longer has anything to live for, than the investigation into all the people who had had professional contact with the perpetrator began. Yes, we want to know how this travesty could have been prevented, and whom to blame for it — other than the killer, of course. And since this particular killer committed suicide, he is not only off the hook where the legal system is concerned, but he is out of the picture altogether, leaving the shrinks to take the heat. That is the nature of evil: It demolishes everything in its path and leaves havoc in its wake. It possesses kinetic energy.

As with individual acts of terrorism, it is virtually impossible to predict when and where infanticide will strike, no matter how many vigilant social workers are out there. It is, therefore, the larger behemoth that has to be confronted and defeated.

The necessary first step in waging a battle for a society’s soul, however — just like engaging in a global war against those attempting to annihilate the West — is the assertion of good over evil.

Sukkot is supposed to be a time of rejoicing, following our solemn atonement on Yom Kippur. It is a commemoration of the 40 years during which the children of Israel spent wandering in the desert, living in temporary dwellings. Now would be the perfect time to contemplate how we can best protect the permanent dwellings of Israel’s children.

Ruthie Blum is the author of “To Hell in a Handbasket: Carter, Obama, and the ‘Arab Spring.’”