I had completed the first draft of this week’s special Yom Ha’Atzmaut (Israeli Independence Day) update when word spread of a terror attack in Elad, an ultra-Orthodox town located in Israel near the border with the West Bank. This tragic assault was a bitter ending to what had been a quiet, happy, and free Yom Ha’Atzmaut, after two years of tight Covid restrictions. Unfortunately, coming after the string of terror attacks during the last six weeks, the murders of three civilians last night in Elad are a reminder that despite all our high-tech weaponry, an attacker with an ax is still able to terrorize and kill. I fear little can be done to stop these lone terrorists.
Yom Ha’Atzmaut is the last in a three-day series of profound national significance, each with its own historical and emotional resonance. These days come quickly on the heels of Passover, creating a month of holidays, celebrations, and remembrance. This year, these national events coincided with the Muslim Ramadan holiday. There was fear this calendar overlap might be a recipe for violence. However, by and large, that did not come to pass.
Because of the nature of this special time, I decided to deviate from my standard format. Instead of reporting on the events of the week, this week, I reflect a bit on Israel as it enters its 75th year.
This intense ten-day period begins with Holocaust Memorial Day, or Yom Ha’Shoah, as it is called in Israel. Although I have spent much of the past two years working on a Holocaust-related project, (among other things, I wrote the Jewish history of nearly 500 towns and villages in Poland), I felt almost disconnected from this year’s commemorations. While the war in Ukraine rages on, and a different dictator commits war crimes, daily, should we memorialize the Holocaust by pledging “Never Again,” when we are not doing all we can to stop the 21st century ‘Hitler’-style madman?
Despite my wavering disconnect, living in Israel it is impossible to totally distance yourself from a day of reflection on all we lost, and how evil humans can be. As I reflected on the Shoah and events in Ukraine, what became strikingly clear is the boundless depth of human evil. Set aside the orders of the leadership, and read the text of the intercepted phone calls between Russian soldiers and their loved ones at home. One soldier received permission from his wife to rape Ukrainian women, and another gleefully reported on how he systematically tortured people. One could easily imagine SS officers having those same conversations during the Holocaust. We once suspected the Holocaust could not happen in today’s interconnected world, where everyone has a camera. In fact, I fear what Ukraine has shown us is that if there had been a webcam in Bergen Belson, it would have been one of the most-watched websites.
This week began with Yom Hazikaron (Israel’s Memorial Day), the most powerful day on the Israeli calendar. It is the day the entire country stops to remember all those who gave their lives fighting for Israel, as well as all those who were murdered in terror attacks.
I am blessed not to be part of a bereaved family. I have only personally known one person who died defending Israel. However, I did lose my best friend from childhood in a deadly terror attack that took place on an aircraft, nearly 50 years ago.
Yom Hazikaron always affects me strongly. One of my favorite songs, titled Choref 1973 (Winter ’73), tells the story of a generation conceived immediately after the Yom Kippur war and the unfulfilled promise made when they were born that they would not have to fight. I believe I so strongly identify with that song, primarily because I made Aliyah shortly after the Yom Kippur War, and the country, along with the army I joined were still reeling from that war. This week a new cover of the song was released. The clip features the original IDF singers from 1994, together with orphans (now middle-aged) of the Yom Kippur war. Frankly, I had tears in my eyes through most of the song.
You can read a translation of the words here:
I often wonder about the heavy price of defending our state. However, when I do begin to question, I quickly think back to the events we commemorated the week before. Yes, the price of our statehood has been extremely high, but the price of not having a Jewish State has been so much higher. Still, the price paid has been insufferably high.
So many of our best and brightest have given their lives to ensure our state remains. Memorial Day reminds us of their ultimate sacrifice. There is no more powerful feeling than being in a crowd of thousands at a memorial ceremony when the commemorative siren goes off. Complete silence descends on all the assembled; leaving each person with his or her thoughts, most reflecting on the solemnity of the moment.
Memorial Day comes to an end, by Israeli tradition, with a quick transition into the festivities of Yom Ha’Atzmaut (Independence Day). This year I had the privilege of serving as a commentator on the Independence Day festivities, together with Calev Ben-David on i24news. Calev and I are two, not especially young men, who both grew up in New York, but spent many, many years living in Israel. We spent two and a half hours reflecting on all of the country’s achievements and successes.
In the “News business,” it’s easy to get caught up with negative news, or as Calev said, “If it bleeds, it leads.” But last night, we tried our best to remain positive — and there really is so much to be proud, or even in awe of. We reflected how the country had been transformed in the years we’ve lived here. When I was growing up, Israel was a country of 3 million; a small country, albeit much larger than the 800,000 or so citizens at the time of Independence. Today, Israel has 9.5 million residents. Israel is no longer a small country, but rather, a state with the population of a middle-sized European country.
In 1922, the per capita GDP in Palestine was 17.5% of the US; in 1950, 35%. By 1972, Israel’s per capita GDP reached 62% of the US. Today, that figure is close to 90% among secular Jewish Israelis.
In 1954, 78% of Israel’s population had no more than an 8th-grade education, and only 3.4% held a college degree. In 2018, 50.2% of Israelis have a college degree. In contrast, only 7.4% of Israel’s current population have just eight years of education.
Today, Israel is one of the leading R&D centers in the world. Almost every major company maintains an R&D center in Israel. In addition, $24 billion was invested in Israeli start-ups last year. The list of Israeli inventions is long, but one example is that in almost every computer in the world — be it Apple or Windows — is a chip most likely designed in Israel, either at the Intel design center, or the Apple chip design center.
In 1975, when I first moved to Israel, Tel Aviv had one skyscraper — the 34-floor Shalom Towers. Today, dozens of towers peer down on the lowly Shalom Towers, with numerous additional towers under construction — including two towers that will each be over 90 stories tall.
Despite all of Israel’s super impressive achievements, it remains hard to reconcile all the accomplishments with Israel’s failure to solve some fundamental challenges. I sat with a close friend who arrived in the country the same time I did, in 1975. We reminisced about how back then, we never would have believed that nearly 50 years later, there would still be no solutions found for a wide variety of Israel’s challenges.
Forty-seven years ago, as a soldier, I patrolled the Kasbah of Nablus and guarded the tomb of Joseph there. Though we are obviously far from solving our dispute with the Palestinians in the many years that followed, we have made progress. Today, we have peace with many of our neighbors — something Israel of 1975 could only dream of.
We have made other progress. I remember in 1991, huddling with close friends in our closed room as Saddam Hussein’s rockets landed, knowing that where these missiles landed was mostly a question of luck. On the other hand, last year I stood in Habima Square when dozens of rockets from Gaza were fired at Tel Aviv. What followed a pyrotechnic display, in which the rockets were swiftly intercepted before they could land on Tel Aviv. Soon our defensive missiles will be replaced by a sophisticated laser defense system.
On the home front, the religious divide between ultra-Orthodox and secular Israelis has only deepened over the past 50 years. And, the perceived divide between Ashkenazim and Sephardim often seems worse than ever — even though reality shows a shrinking gap, due to the continued high rate of “intermarriage” between Ashkenazim and Sephardim, slowly blurring any differences.
In 74 years, despite our numerous unsolved problems, the State of Israel has been a story of great success and monumental accomplishment. It’s hard to imagine just how much more successful Israel could be if we could solve some of our many ongoing challenges. If only …