These past 7 months have demonstrated that Israelis are extraordinary in so many ways.
By Rolene Marks
It has been over 7 months of agony. It feels like years. I do not remember life before 7 October – I do not think most people do either. There is 7/10 – and life before that, which is blurred and fuzzy. We are not the same people who went to sleep on 6 October. We never will be again. How could we be?
This year, the national holidays in Israel have a distinctly different tone. They are sacred days, filled with sorrow – and dread. Yom Hashoa (Holocaust Memorial Day) in the shadow of 7/10 was extremely poignant and difficult. The images of our brothers and sisters burnt to ash or herded onto the back of trucks and taken away as well as the raw, unbridled hatred that fueled the attack was reminiscent of the experiences of our ancestors – and family.
On 7 October, Hamas intended to terrorise. And they did. The trauma we have is so deep; it is at a cellular level. They came into the one safe haven of the Jewish people, our collective home and into our individual homes as families, and raped, mutilated, tortured, burnt, murdered and kidnapped. We thought it could never happen again – but it did. We are so deep in our collective trauma that we have not even begun to emerge into post trauma but no sooner had the news broken, Israelis began to flex our well-toned resilience muscle. War and trauma are not new to Israelis or the Jewish people, but this time it was different. The level of depravity was beyond our comprehension – and many of us feel that we have been transported back in time, to the pogroms and persecution of our grandparents and great-grandparents.
We are now approaching two Days of Awe – Yom Hazikaron, Memorial Day for fallen soldiers and victims of terror – and Yom Ha’atzmaut, Independence Day. The two days take place one after the other so that we never forget the price we paid for what we have – a Jewish state. This year it is all the more emotional and heightened as we are fighting a war for our very survival – while antisemitism soars to astronomical levels.
Hamas made no distinction between any of us – left or right, religious or secular, Muslim, Christian, Jew, and foreign national – everyone was a target. Our answer to that, despite our differences, is to come together as a nation and focus on what is most important – supporting our bereaved families and families of hostages, demanding the immediate return of our hostages, ensuring the world does not forget what happened on 7/10 and standing behind our army.
In our grief, we each adopted a personal mission. Through our pain, we have each found a purpose and this article is my personal love letter to every single one of my exceptional fellow citizens and women. On 7 October, we experienced the worst of humanity. On 8 October, the best of Israel and the Jewish people trudged through their pain, shock and grief and rose to meet the challenges.
These Days of Awe, I want to express my profound love for my fellow citizens.
To the men, women and canines on air, sea, land, tunnels and airwaves, who are fighting not just for our survival, but for our very existence, there are not enough words to thank you. You are the best of us. You are our husbands and wives, sons and daughters, lovers, colleagues, friends and you are not just fighting for us, you are the vanguard in the clash between good and evil. We are proud of you, we stand by you and we know without any doubt that you adhere to the strictest moral and ethical code as you fight a monstrous entity that does not respect the laws of armed conflict, but instead uses their civilians as human shields. You can hold your head up high.
To our warriors, human and canine, who paid the ultimate price for our safety, your names will go down in the annals of our history, and we will honour you eternally. We will wrap our arms around your families. May your memories forever be blessed.
The 7th of October was the darkest day in Israel’s history, but it was also a day that ordinary people became superheroes. There were parents who drove down south to rescue their children in the carnage, risking their lives and saving many. Noam Tibon, a retired IDF General, and his wife got into their car and headed straight to Nahal Oz to help rescue his son and his family, trapped in their safe room. Tibon and his wife would not only rescue injured soldiers, shepherding them to safety, but Noam engaged in combat with terrorists before managing to free his family. Civilians like Yusuf Marhat, a Bedouin bus driver who transported revelers to the Nova festival and then drove towards the carnage to rescue as many as possible. He saved many lives that dark day. Aner Shapira was amongst a group of people hiding in a shelter when Hamas opened fire on them and threw grenades in. Video footage shows Shapira throwing at least 7 grenades out before he was eventually killed. His best friend Hersch Goldberg Polin was taken as a hostage and remains in captivity. These are just a few of the many who drew superhuman strength to save as many lives as they could.
To every first responder who ran into the danger, we salute you. It was the call centre operators who took those first calls from terrified kibbutz residents. I keep thinking of the operator who took the distressed call of Avigail Idan’s siblings, who saw their parents murdered and did not know where their baby sister was. The siblings hid in a cupboard where their mother Smadar had safely hidden them before she was murdered. The operator told them to hide there “till the good people come”. Images of Jewish children hiding in cupboards from killers takes us back to that darkest time in our history. The remarkable first responders from Magen David Adom, firefighters, United Hatzalah, Zaka, IDF soldiers, doctors, nurses, police and all who ran into the gates of hell went above and beyond the call of duty. They were nothing less than magnificent.
The attacks of October 7 left many orphans. Statistics estimate 119 children who lost either one or more parents. Breastfeeding mothers rushed to donate their breast milk so that our smallest and most vulnerable treasures would receive sustenance. This is love in a profound time of sorrow.
To the volunteers, near and far, who are diligently picking fruit and vegetables, thank you! You are helping to feed a country who faces the real threat of a lack of food security. Many of the agricultural workers who came from Thailand, Nepal and other countries returned to their countries in the wake of 7/10, leaving farms without labourers. Israelis sprang into action, making sure cows were milked, fruit, vegetable picked, and that the farms that form the country’s food belt have continued to function. Volunteers have been streaming in around from around the world to help – including a team of cowboys from the USA. It has been an incredible show of love and solidarity.
To my colleagues who are journalists or are in the field of public diplomacy – we are tasked with bearing witness, recording history and testimony and sharing it with the world. It has been at times, an agonizing task. We have had to see the images and footage from the atrocities that are unfathomable in their cruelty. We have had to see them again and again in order to ensure the story is told, the atrocities not denied or forgotten. It takes a massive toll. We will continue to speak.
To the lawyers who are defending Israel in the international courts against libelous accusations of genocide – some heroes really do wear capes. In this case, robes. You are our legal heroes in your robes, presenting Israel’s case with alacrity, dignity and forensic detail, compiling case after case that easily disproves the accusation of genocide. You have had to pore over the evidence of a true genocide, the atrocities of 7 October, in all of its savage imagery. This is unbearable but proves without a doubt who the perpetrators are – Hamas.
To my sisters, the Zionesses roaring on behalf of our mothers, sisters and daughters who no longer have a voice, who were raped and tortured and then violated again by feminists and women’s organisations who not only denied the violence they endured, but built a wall of silence. We, the women of Israel, will tear down that wall by speaking up. We will not be silenced.
Country United. As they say an army marches on its stomach, it didn’t take long for Israel’s restaurants to get into the kitchen to feed their heroes. Within days of the war began following the massacre of October 7, even Israel’s top restaurants rallied to provide food for the soldiers.
Someone once said that an army marches on its stomach. The IDF must be the most well-fed army in in the world. Israelis and volunteers from abroad have been packing food parcels, donating, hosting barbeques on the border and ensuring that the army that defends its nation, eats well. Restaurant owners have koshered their restaurants to ensure that all food meets religious requirement and no soldiers is excluded from enjoying a delicious meal. Druze women and restaurant owners have closed their restaurants to the public and are catering solely to soldiers. When they open to the public again, we will support them in our masses.
What’s Cooking? In wartime Israel, everyone does their part – even if that means cooking dinner in a parking garage. Seen here at the Keshet school in Jerusalem’s Katamon neighborhood, are student volunteers in their school’s parking garage, which also is functioning as a makeshift kitchen feeding as many as 300 people per day.(Photo by Neil Weinberg)
To the hostages – our brothers and sisters held in torturous conditions, and those who have been released – no amount of words do justice to explain your courage and your dignity. Former hostages who have bravely shared about their horrific experience have done so with the greatest dignity and continue to fight for the 132 that remain captive. The stories are shattering – torture, starvation, systematic sexual abuse and more accounts that speak of unfathomable trauma. We will not stop until every single one of you is back.
The people who have vowed to rebuild their devastated communities and kibbutzim, you are the beacon of hope, of resilience. You remind us of what we have, what we cherish and what our commitment is.
Seniors in the ‘Service’. Volunteers sort donated resources for Israelis displaced by the October 7 attacks and Israel-Hamas war. (Photo: Foni Mesika)
Young people who have risen to the challenge. You are more than our greatest hope, you have more than proven our future is radiantly bright – you light the way. You have shown up in our darkest moment in the most magnificent way and while we look around the world at the chaos on campuses and in marches, alarmed at how the young and more often than not, gullible have been radicalized, we do not fear for the future of Israel. You are our future. You are the generation that will go down in the annals of history as one of our greatest. I believe that.
To you who has gone above and beyond and who I may not have mentioned, thank you. To every single one of us, navigating our own trauma and pain, but showing up, every single day, there is no greater love than the love we have for each other.
Every single one of us. Am Yisrael Chai!
While the mission of Lay of the Land (LotL) is to provide a wide and diverse perspective of affairs in Israel, the Middle East and the Jewish world, the opinions, beliefs and viewpoints expressed by its various writers are not necessarily ones of the owners and management of LOTL but of the writers themselves. LotL endeavours to the best of its ability to credit the use of all known photographs to the photographer and/or owner of such photographs (0&EO).
