In every generation

A few years ago while going through my late grandmother's papers I came across this newspaper clipping from the front page of The Guardian newspaper of June 3 1967 and two letters my uncle wrote from Tel Aviv to his parents in London, while he was volunteering in a hospital.

On June 6th 1967 my uncle wrote:"For the past few days I have been working in a big Tel Aviv hospital 7am till 7pm.Tel Aviv has been very lucky no bombs have fallen. We can hear aircraft and explosions in the distance. Last night we went down twice to the shelters. Tel Aviv still seems to be gay except that buses are few and far between. Jerusalem on the other hand has got it bad: they have sent a lot of ambulances and doctors there from my hospital in Tel Aviv."

There was also a letter postmarked June 12 1967 from my mother, a Hebrew teacher in Boston, to her parents in London about her brother going off to Israel: "Thank Gd there is a ceasefire... Nevertheless volunteers are still needed to help keep the country going and put it back on its feet. I don't know WHY you have to say in almost every letter that you are bad parents. I think that every parent (and every boy) who's son is this week riding around in a car in GG/Hendon and sleeping in his own bed should be ashamed of his character and his upbringing. It was partly the fault of this type that 6,000,000 could die and no credit to them that we have a state of Israel... Of course my brother had to go - his whole existence was that way - besides which he's a man with a conscience. Don't worry."

For weeks the tension had been ratchetting up in the region. Egypt and Syria were massing troops on Israel's borders. Egypt had pressured the UN peacekeeping force to leave the Sinai buffer zone, allowing them to move their army closer to Israel and shut the Straits of Tiran to Israeli shipping, imposing a blockade on Eilat, Israel's only Red Sea port, while Egypt's President Nasser made ever more belligerent statements about promising the destruction of Israel.

All over the world and in Israel itself there was a sense of impending doom. Barely 20 years after the Holocaust there was a very real fear that a similar fate would befall the Jews in Israel, that Israel was about to be crushed by the combined might of the surrounding Arab armies.
My grandparents, who had both lost so much family in the Holocaust, were terrified that they were now going to lose their only son in this war.

Only a few weeks after the war they themselves flew out to Jerusalem to join festive prayers of thanksgiving at the Kotel, the first time in 19 years that Jews were able to visit this sacred site.

A timely reminder that in every generation we have faced an enemy who wishes to erase us, and each time as a people we have met the threat with resilience and determination. These are the first hand stories I grew up with from ordinary, regular people who did what they could to save our people and our homeland.

When Israel's survival was threatened my uncle and many of his friends in the diaspora got up and did what they could to help their brothers and sisters in Israel. They put their lives where their ideals were and got on a flight to Israel, not knowing whether they were flying to their doom.

On June 3 1967 the consensus in the world was that the Arab states, led by Nasser's Egypt, would wipe Israel off the map and slaughter the Jews of Israel. And still my uncle and his friends got on the plane and came out to Israel to help because less than 20 years after the Holocaust every Jew knew that it was up to us, the Jewish people, to try to save ourselves, to act, to do.

One of the first things my uncle said to me after October 7 was to ask when the volunteers from the diaspora were coming, as he and his friends had.

Most of us are these ordinary people. We aren't medical professionals or trained soldiers at the peak of fitness or tech wizards or scientists. There is still so much every one of us can do to save our people and our homeland.

Songs of loss and faith

This is a song of hope for a future in Israel's devastated Gaza border communities. It was written in the wake of October 7 by Assi Stav and originally recorded by Adar Gold.

The version below was filmed by Israeli singer Eden Hasson and local Gaza border musicians in kibbutz Kfar Azza, one of the Israeli villages hardest hit by the Hamas invasion.

The lyrics reference many classic Israeli songs of this genre, bittersweet ballads of loss and mourning coupled with a fierce and determined hope and longing for a bright future.

More than anything, these are themes that come up in Israeli songs over and over throughout the years and generations. From Naomi Shemer to Ehud Manor to Uzi Hitman to Ilai Bottner and Keren Peles and so many others.

These are songs that every Israeli grows up with and as we have suffered new wars, terror attacks and painful hardships more of these are written and added to a canon that Israelis sing together, that are played on the radio especially around Memorial Day and times of trouble, that are sung at memorial day ceremonies and communal singalongs on sad days and happy days alike.

These are songs that are in many ways a therapy, a balm for the battered souls of a traumatised nation. 

These are songs of resilience in the face of terrible pain and grief that at once give space to that sorrow but also look to the future and the comfort that better days will come.

The wheat will grow again. The flowers will bloom again. Children will be born to run and play on the paths and in the fields once scarred by war and terror. We remember our dead and our wounded and the horrors of war but also keep the faith that life is stronger and peace will prevail eventually.

Though today we must fight for our lives we never lose sight of that hope for a peaceful tomorrow.

There is a reason Israel's national anthem is The Hope. 

This is Israel in a nutshell. 

Shibolim (wheat sheaves) by Assi Stav (my rough translation)

You remember when we were small
We would hide behind the hay
Punnets of tomatoes and the October breeze
Whistling through the air

Stones in my shoes, a smile on my face
Flowers in my hair
The way to the village has been lost
The way I hoped to return 

The battlefield will turn to sheaves of wheat
You'll see we'll yet return and raise our children here
The battlefield will turn to wheat sheaves
Beautiful people will keep dancing on the paths
Songs will yet be written here and thousands of red anemones will cover the stains

You remember when we were already big
We would hide behind the wall
Punnets of gunpowder and the October wind
Igniting the air

Dust on our shoes, a smile without a face
Shabbat flowers on the table
The way to the village is lost
The way I saw how everything ended

The battlefield will turn to sheaves of wheat 
You'll see we'll yet return and raise our children here
The battlefield will turn to sheaves of wheat
Beautiful people will continue to dance on the paths
Songs will yet be written here and thousands of red anemones will cover the stains

The battlefield will turn to sheaves of wheat 
Seeds of hope will sprout and climb high
The battlefield will turn to sheaves of wheat 
Beautiful people will continue to dance in the wide open spaces
Books will be written here and thousands of red anemones will cover the years.

 I often wonder if part of this insane disconnect we're dealing with when it comes to the US, the UK and our supposed European and other "allies" is that they simply don't understand what war is. They've had some terror attacks, they've had "police actions" on the other side of the world, but within living memory they simply don't have any experience. Even in most of Europe there we're talking only people over 80 who have any memory of what an existential threat and war on the home front is.

To them it's all theories and dogma. War by remote control, something you can just "walk away from" if it doesn't go the way you plan.

An utter failure to understand the meaning of an existential threat on your doorstep, what it means to run from rocket sirens, what it means to look over that border a few hundred metres or maybe a kilometre or two from your home and see people there with their Hamas or Hizballah flags and guns ready to kill you.

The same way they don't get that urban warfare with a terror group firmly embedded in a civilian population will not be neat and tidy, no matter how many precautions you take, no matter if you follow the dictates of the laws of war to the letter, there is no way to just neatly pick out Hamas without causing any other casualties or damage.

I've tried to explain this over and over again to highly educated intellectual friends and family in various Western countries. I get responses like "well, Israel should only have defensive weapons", with absolutely no comprehension what that even means. When I ask them what a purely defensive weapon is they say "Iron Dome!" So I ask them how that could save us from a repeat of the October 7th invasion and they have no answer except to insist that Israel is "overreacting" and needs to be "reigned in". Then I ask who is going to reign in Hamas and Hizballah, if they expect Iran, China, North Korea and friends to stop supplying them with weapons. And of course they have no answer except to say that "Israel needs to calm down and stop the war". Total, utter disconnect with the reality. Totally failure to understand the daily threat to Israel's survival.

Yair Agmon is an Israeli journalist who took it upon himself to collect stories of October 7th. He recently published a book of forty personal stories from that day in the Gaza border region. This is my rough translation of an extract from one of them and Agmon's thoughts about the meaning of Holocaust Memorial Day in Israel in the wake of the trauma of October 7th. "And on October 7th, the morning of Simhat Torah, all this story collapsed before our eyes. My sister Mikhal lives on moshav Amioz, right near the border fence with Gaza. For a day and a half she was holed up in her shelter, together with her family. Nobody came to rescue her. Nobody came to save her from the horror of the terrorists. By a miracle she survived. But in nearby kibbutzim, on that same morning, at that very time, the story was very different. Entire Israeli villages, towns and military bases were all overrun. Soldiers and civilians were slaughtered and kidnapped. The forces of darkness, modern day Nazis of our generation, crossed the border fence and turned the state of Israel into horrific killing fields. In every generation they rise up to wipe us out. That's how it looked. That's how it sounded. That's how it felt. Where was God? To save us from them? Where was He? Where was the Holy One Blessed Be He? Why didn't he come to save us?

There is one story in the book, a beautiful story that I love so much, the story of Ihud Hatzalah ambulance fifty four. It's the story of three Hareidi guys, good time guys, but with good hearts, who decided that their ambulance would drive in to the inferno. All the ambulances were left outside the immediate battle zone. But their ambulance drove straight in. Because they were heroes. They saved over 60 people on that day. Rescued them from the inferno. Saved their lives. It's simply unbelievable what they did. 

And there's one episode, in their story, this episode that I love. This is what Emmanuel says "So we were driving towards the Otef (Gaza border region), and when we get towards southern Israel we notice dozens of vehicles en route with us, charging ahead in the same direction as us, some with gun barrels sticking out the window, some wearing uniforms, some without uniforms, but all of them charging charging charging southwards. 

And we're an ambulance, so we put on the loudspeaker, that they should allow us to overtake them, but still, people are overtaking us! Going to fight! And we get to a red light and we try to carefully go through it, but everyone runs the red light! No one stops. Everyone is travelling onwards, forwards, to fight!" 

And a few days ago I met Emmanuel in a petrol station in Jerusalem. I met with him and his heroic friend to bring them copies of the book and a hug. And when we met I asked him about this scene, masses of Israelis rushing in to the line of fire. And Emmanuel said that it was insane. There was a look line of vehicles fleeing the south. But there were hundreds, maybe thousands, of Israelis rushing forward, in to the line of fire. To fight in Re'im (the site of the Nova music festival). To save lives. To make a stand against the Nazi Hamas terrorists attacking Israel, to shoot them, to say "Never Again". 

Yes, it's true, on October 7th the State of Israel crumbled before our eyes. The Zionist project failed. The Jewish State failed to protect its residents. That's true. It was a total collapse. Stinging. And it is so painful that it's hard to even think about it. And it's hard to write about it. So many people were murdered. So many soldiers fell. So many beloved brothers and sisters were kidnapped. It's true. That's all true.

But, and there is not more important but than this, in all of this shame, heroes rose up amongst us. And I'm not talking about isolated examples, one or two or three people who fought selflessly. No. I'm talking about hundreds and thousands, tens of thousands of Israelis who rushed forward. They had weapons. They had ammunition. And they had courage, to race onwards, like lions, like partisans, like Israelis.

When I stood in the death camps of Poland, way back in 2005, I felt two stories in my heart. One a Jewish story, beaten, oppressed, bruised and defeated. And a second Israeli Zionist story, of resilience, of courage, of advanced fighter plances and tons of self confidence. And like then in a sad, quiet Poland, so now. So today. I like this double story. One story of a state which abandoned its Jewish residents. And a second story of Israeli fighters who rose up to defend their nation and their land.

It's true, the war is not yet over. The hostages have yet to return home. This land is still full of refugees and survivors. It will take entire generations to process the trauma that we suffered. And despite it all - the day that the Zionist enterprise collapsed is also the day that we discovered that it succeeded. The Jewish gene changed. We no longer go like sheep to the slaughter. Even when the army fails. Even when the state seems to crumble before our eyes. We have amongst us countless brave warriors, fearless, who charge forward. This was the most Jewish day we have known. Davka on that day, that was the day we discovered that we are Israelis. ובשבעה באוקטובר, בבוקר שמחת תורה, כל הסיפור הזה קרס אל מול עיני. אחותי מיכל גרה במושב עמיעוז, ממש צמוד לגדר. במשך יום וחצי היא התבצרה בממ"ד, ביחד עם המשפחה שלה. איש לא הגיע לחלץ אותה. איש לא בא להציל אותה מאימת המחבלים. בנס היא נותרה בחיים. אבל בקיבוצים הסמוכים, באותו הבוקר, באותן שעות ממש, התרחש סיפור אחד. יישובים ובסיסים שלמים נכבשו. חיילים ואזרחים נרצחו ונחטפו. כוחות האופל, נאצים בני דורנו, חצו את הגדר, והפכו את מדינת ישראל לגיא הריגה אימתני. בכל דור ודור עומדים עלינו לכלותינו. ככה זה נראה. ככה זה נשמע. ככה זה מרגיש. ואיפה הקדוש ברוך הוא שיציל אותנו מידם. איפה הוא. איפה הקדוש ברוך הוא. למה הוא לא בא להציל.

ויש סיפור אחד בספר, סיפור יפה שאני כל כך אוהב, זה סיפור על אמבולנס מספר חמישים וארבע, של ארגון "איחוד הצלה". זה סיפור על שלושה חרדים שבבניקים כאלה, עם לב טוב, שהחליטו שהאמבולנס שלהם ייכנס לתוך התופת. כל האמבולנסים נותרו מחוץ לאיזורי הקרבות. אבל האמבולנס שלהם נכנס פנימה. כי הם גיבורים. הם הצילו למעלה משישים אנשים ביום הזה. ממש חילצו אותם מהתופת. והצילו את החיים שלהם. זה לא להאמין פשוט.

ויש קטע, בסיפור שלהם, זה קטע שאני אוהב. ככה עמנואל אומר – "אז אנחנו נוסעים לכיוון העוטף, וכשאנחנו מגיעים כבר יותר לאיזור הדרום, אנחנו רואים בדרך עשרות כלי רכב נוסעים איתנו, דוהרים קדימה לאותו כיוון שלנו, חלקם נוסעים עם קנה של נשק מחוץ לחלון, חלקם עם מדים, חלקם בלי מדים, אבל כולם דוהרים דוהרים דוהרים דרומה.

ואנחנו אמבולנס, אז אנחנו מפעילים מערכת כריזה, שיתנו לנו לעבור, ובכל זאת אנשים עוקפים אותנו! נוסעים להילחם! ואנחנו מגיעים לרמזור אדום, מנסים לעבור כזה בזהירות, אבל כולם עוברים שם באדום! אף אחד לא עוצר. כולם נוסעים קדימה, להילחם!".

ולפני כמה ימים נפגשתי עם עמנואל, בתחנת דלק בירושלים. נפגשתי איתו ועם החברים הגיבורים שלו, כדי להביא להם ספרים, וחיבוק. וכשנפגשנו שאלתי אותו על הסצינה הזאת, שבה המוני ישראלים שועטים אל תוך האש. ועמנואל אמר שזה היה מטורף. היה טור של מכוניות של אנשים שנמלטו מהדרום. אבל היו מאות, אם לא אלפי ישראלים, ששעטו קדימה, אל תוך האש. כדי להילחם ברעים. כדי לנצח חיים. כדי לעמוד מול הנאצים החמאסניקים, לירות בהם, ולומר להם - "לעולם לא עוד".

כן. זה נכון. בשבעה באוקטובר מדינת ישראל התפוררה מול עינינו. הפרויקט הציוני נכשל. מדינת היהודים לא הצליחה להגן על תושביה. זה נכון. זו קריסה מוחלטת. צורבת. והיא כל כך כואבת שקשה לחשוב עליה. וקשה לכתוב עליה. כל כך הרבה אנשים נרצחו. כל כך הרבה חיילים נפלו. כל כך הרבה אחים אהובים נחטפו. זה נכון. הכל נכון.

אבל, ואין אבל חשוב מזה, מתוך הקריסה הזו, מתוך הבושה הזו, קמו ועלו לנו גיבורים. ואני לא מדבר על יחידי סגולה, על אחד שניים שלושה אנשים שנלחמו בחירוף נפש. לא. אני מדבר על מאות, על אלפים, על עשרות אלפי ישראלים שנחלצו קדימה. היו להם נשקים. היתה להם תחמושת. והיה להם אומץ, לשעוט קדימה, כמו אריות, כמו פרטיזנים, כמו ישראלים.

כשעמדתי במחנות ההשמדה בפולין, אי אז באלפיים וחמש, הרגשתי בלב שלי שני סיפורים. סיפור אחד יהודי, מוכה, נדכא, חבוט ומובס. וסיפור אחד ישראלי, ציוני, עם חוסן, עם אומץ, עם מטוסי קרב משוכללים, ותועפות של ביטחון עצמי. וכמו בפולין העצובה והשקטה, כך גם עכשיו. גם היום. אני חי בתוך סיפור כפול. סיפור אחד על מדינה שהפקירה את תושביה היהודים. וסיפור שני על אינספור לוחמים ישראלים שקמו להגן על עמם ועל ארצם.

נכון, המלחמה עדיין לא תמה. החטופים עדיין לא שבו. הארץ עדיין מלאה בפליטים וניצולים. את הטראומה שעברה עלינו, נצטרך לעכל דורות שלמים. ובכל זאת - היום שבו המפעל הציוני קרס, הוא גם היום שבו גילינו שהוא הצליח. הגֶן היהודי השתנה. אנחנו כבר לא הולכים כצאן לטבח. גם כשהצבא נכשל. גם כשהמדינה מתפוררת מול עינינו. יש בינינו אינספור לוחמים עזי נפש, חסרי פחד, ששועטים קדימה. זה היה היום הכי יהודי שידענו. ודווקא בו גילינו שאנחנו ישראלים.

Seven months on and I can't believe I still have to explain this to so many of our friends overseas who say to me Israel should just capitulate to Hamas:

Israel is fighting an existential war orchestrated via Iranian proxies Hamas (and Hizballah).

Israel is fighting against enemies with no moral red lines, for whom kidnapping civilians is just another means of warfare, for whom massacre and mass rape of civilians is a legitimate means of warfare.

An enemy who gleefully hides their fighters, weapons and rocket launchers primed and ready among their own civilian population in the hope that this will lead to casualties among their own civilian population.

This is not some "police operation" half way across the world like the Americans or British or French fought in Afghanistan or Iraq or Vietnam or anywhere else.

This is right next to us. This is Canada invading New England, raping and pillaging as they go. This is Ireland firing rockets and drones into Wales and England on a daily basis. This is Mexico sending gunmen swarming over the border to burn down American border towns while massacring and kidnapping their civilians residents. This is Germany invading France with the intent of killing as many French people as possible just because they are French and wiping the French Republic of the map.

In any of those scenarios the attacked country would have not just a right but an obligation to its own citizens to defend them with whatever means necessary to save the lives of their people and protect the territorial integrity of their country from invasion.

Except when it comes to Israel the Israeli army is apparently only allowed to protect Israeli people if it can do so without harming any enemy civilians.

With all the good intentions in the world, with all the precautions in the world, it is not possible to fight a war without there tragically being civilian casualties, and this goes double and triple for a war against Hamas which intentionally embeds itself within a civilian population, urban warfare and tunnel warfare of a kind not seen even in the warrens of Iraqi cities.

Israel is doing all it can to prevent civilian casualties in Gaza, and yet this too is condemned. Israel is told by America it can't fight against the Hamas terror battalions holed up in Rafiah unless it evacuates all civilians and provides aid for them. When Israel leaflets Rafiah warning civilians to evacuate because Israel is about to act (and thus losing any element of surprise against Hamas) France condemns Israel for evacuating Gazans from their homes.

It is an obscene Catch 22 situation in which Israel's supposed "friends" in the West are creating an impossible situation in which Israel is simply not allowed to wage this defensive war. The message is that Israel is simply not permitted to defend itself, that the lives of Israelis do not matter and the defence of the State of Israel is not considered legitimate. Damned if you do, damned if you don't, Israel is being squeezed to surrender to genocidal terrorists who openly declare their aim of wiping Israel off the map.

Israel's so called "friends" create a twisted situation where Israel is held to impossible standards and condemned for a war of self-defence forced upon Israel by the Hamas invasion. Supposed "allies" like the US threaten to withold vital weapons during wartime (and according to a Wall Street Journal report are actually withholding arms from Israel now). Canada has placed an embargo on Israel. Belgium is threatening similar.

What does having "allies" mean if they are so ready to deny Israel vital weapons during wartime, during a defensive war of survival against an enemy who declares over and over their readiness to perpetrate October 7th again and again?

What does it mean that the supposed free democracies of the West seem quite at ease with the idea of denying vital arms to Israel at a time of war, at a time when Israel is surrounded by existential threats on so many borders, while Hamas and Hizballah will continue to be armed by Iran, North Korea, China, Russia, will continue to build their arsenals and continue to attack Israel?

Israel is expected to negotiate with the Hamas terrorist organisation which perpetrated the October 7th atrocities. Rather than the world rallying in support of the Israelis kidnapped from Israel and demanding their immediate release the supposed "honest brokers" of the world pressure Israel relentlessly to give in to every Hamas demand, to release murderers from Israeli jails who openly clamour to murder more Israelis, to end this war of self-defence leaving Hamas intact to rebuild its war machine to launch another October 7th, to abandon the people of Israel's borders to more years of rockets and bombardment and the ever present threat of another invasion.

I wonder if this fickle behaviour of so many Western governments is simply their own privileged naivete. They simply have been at peace for too long. Yes, they have suffered occasional terror attacks, but they truly don't understand the concept of the enemy at the door, what it means to be invaded, what it means to have a neighbour, as Ukraine does, who doesn't believe you have a right to exist and wants you erased.

Is the dividend of peace in Europe, of peace in north America and the Pacific that these free countries of the world simply can't understand the meaning of fighting for you life, of an existential war of survival? Are these countries just too comfortable and privileged to get it? If it's been generations, or maybe even never, since you've had to run for cover in an air raid or seen your border towns and cities overrun by brutal enemies do you simply have no concept of what this means?

Nourishing body and soul

 
First hallot and first bread baked after Pesah.

For the refuah of my friend Liora Leah bat Tova, for our relative Devorah bay Nisa Etel, for all the thousands of Israeli wounded, for all of Israel, for the refuah of this very broken world.

Since October 7th it feels like we've baked more hallah then I can ever remember us baking, vast quantities that are used or handed out, not hallot to stock the freezer.

Hallah isn't just bread in Jewish tradition, there is a mystical spiritual element to the act of making hallah, especially in a quantity large enough to take a symbolic biblical tithe with a special blessing.

Baking bread as a spiritual act is deeply embedded in Jewish culture, a connection to the divine concept of creation, of providing the most basic sustenance for both the body and the soul.

Making hallah is a time to pray for the sick and the injured in body and soul, for peace, for mercy on the world, for health, for the well being of our loved ones, for the safety of our children and all the world's children.

The custom is so ingrained in our society that it is more of a cultural phenomenon than a religious one, there is an aspect of folk religion, a comforting practice that comes from ordinary lay people, from families, from communities just gathering together for solace and hope.

Much of the hallah baked goes to those in need, including those in need of emotional support, a comforting food hug to show the many many shattered souls they are not alone. Something to nourish the body and the soul together.

Taking the break from baking over Pesah this year more than any other felt like we were remiss in something.

Baking hallah is something ordinary folks can do in all this turmoil around us, in a world that seems to have veered so violently off course from the one most of us were raised to expect. Something we can do to bring a little warmth and solace in to this broken world. It feels like a drop in a vast ocean of tears, but hopefully it's something.

 Tonight in Jerusalem we passed a demonstration walking past the Foreign Ministry building. Hundreds of people were walking in a quiet, dignified procession holding aloft photos of their loved ones, Israeli soldiers who fell in the fighting in Gaza with the title "Until victory - don't let our loved ones sacrifice be for nought" and similar sentiments calling for the continuation of the campaign to destroy Hamas' military capabilities and end their murderous rule in Gaza. So many posters, so many fallen.

Just a short distance away is the marquee where families of the hostages have a vigil for their loved ones still held captive in Gaza. So many posters, so many hostages.

So much heartbreak.

Damn Hamas.