Introduction: A Death of a Friend Transformed into a Public Affair Two years ago, around the Jewish holiday of Passover, a few dozen people gathered in my hometown cemetery, in order to commemorate the death of our friend, Dov, who had been killed by a suicide bombing a year earlier. The municipality provided a few loudspeakers and brought bouquets of flowers on behalf of the government and the municipality. The mayor also brought his own bouquet. The ceremony included a few speeches given by members of the family and friends. The speakers expressed their longing for the deceased and referred to his personality in life and to the tombstone that had been planned to represent it. Though the ceremony was not attended by a religious personality, it was nevertheless conducted in accordance with the traditional Jewish service, designed to honor the departed (Lamm 2000: 38-39). My friend, Dov, was killed during the Passover holiday of 2002, at the beginning of the second Intifada. Hundreds of people attended his funeral, Jews and Arabs; horrified by his death, they stood around the coffin provided to shield the mourners from the horrible sight and in contrary to present practice in Israel of wrapping the deceased in shrouds. The long list of speakers, previously arranged by the Rabbi who conducted the ceremony, included also a minister on behalf of the government, government members and the mayor of town who gave the closing speech. Contrary to Jewish tradition (and to the later commemoration described above), very little was said in honor of the deceased. Instead, many speakers gave contradictory and emotional statements related to the ongoing public debate on hostile activities. Some speakers referred to the murderers and asked for compensation and revenge. Others mentioned that the deceased had personal, political and professional relationships with both Jews and Arabs and that both populations had frequented the restaurant where he was killed. Almost at the end of the ceremony, a friend of Dov cited a recent poem by the national poet, Ha'im Guri, saying (in free translation) ...no matter what, no good would come of this malevolent mischief, which could not possibly depart and melt away. His friend added that Dov, the optimist, would not have accepted the message of the poem. The death of my friend was very distressful of course. In the year that followed I was asked to commemorate his death by giving a lecture at the annual meeting of the Israeli Anthropological Association. It was very difficult at first. Not only were there memories of our happy encounters in the past, but also I had repeated visions of Dov's last minutes sitting opposite the far wall of the restaurant and engrossed in his companion's conversation. Although several years have passed I cannot to this day enter this restaurant, which now carries a metal plaque with all the names of the people who were killed there. My memories were not the only thing that bothered me. There was also the ethical aspect of writing that troubled me. Dov was a private friend. Should his death become a public affair? Is it necessary to analyze the tragedy according to scientific perspectives, or should I leave him in peace? Hesitating I consulted a few members of his family. I was surprised to find that not only did they give me their consent to write and sent some pictures of the burial site taken by his son, the artist, but they also put me in touch with the architect who had planned it. Hence, I put my hesitations aside and tried to relate my personal loss with my professional interests in the anthropology of death. I had two kinds of reference-the behavior of people at the two events that I attended, and the physical space of death, that is Dov's burial site. I have always considered emotions a tantalizing subject for social scientific inquiry. Nevertheless I did not fail to see that the rage, love, despair and other deep emotions surrounding the death of my friend were not disconnected from either the cultural or social and political context in which they were experienced. …