A letter from Haifa amid the war
We are happy because existential threats bring out the best in us.

In February 17, we “celebrated” 50 years in Israel, only there was no celebration as we anticipated war with Iran.
Paul and I made aliyah to Haifa when Paul received a position at the Technion in 1976. We would have celebrated with the wonderful friends who welcomed us, with others we have befriended since, and with my Habonim friends who, like us, made aliyah in the 70s.
Our 50th aliyah anniversary is more of a nightmare than a celebration. More than a month after Israel and America attacked Iran we have discovered that Hezbollah is alive and kicking despite what we were told at the end of the war with Hamas. They are sending thousands of missiles, drones and rockets which are exploding all over the north of Israel.
The thousands of Iranian missiles are sophisticated and can send a million people to shelters since when exploded, a missile dispatches smaller bombs over huge areas.
Many people are frightened to leave home. Elderly or disabled people who can’t run for cover and who don’t have a “safe room” are helpless and an elderly couple died in Tel Aviv for exactly that reason. What do the parents of autistic children or children in wheelchairs do?
Others, like us, take calculated risks. Any time I get into my car or take a walk I am aware that a siren can sound any minute. I will need to run for cover in a shelter, a stairwell or if I am on a highway, I will stop the car on the side of the road lying on the ground and putting my hands over my head.
That is exactly how a young 27-year-old woman was killed on her way home in the north. A piece of shrapnel from a missile sent from Iran which was intercepted, fell exactly where she was lying.
My calculated risk is going to Pilates where my teacher has a shelter in her house. Paul can’t go to the Technion pool as it isn’t protected so he runs up and down the stairs of our apartment building to stay fit.
The 45-minute drive to our youngest daughter and her family and the 30-minute drive to our two other daughters and their families, Paul and I do together. So far, we have been caught by a missile barrage once on the highway. Without seeing the kids, helping with the younger grandchildren and spending erev Shabbat together we would not be able to maintain our resilience. Paul is a statistics professor. He is an expert in probability so our risks are calculated but also involve some guts, stupidity and faith.
My heart breaks for children. They have missed more school days over the past two years than anyone wants to count. Their education aside, fearing for their lives should not be their reality.
Our grandchildren are blessed with nurturing parents, and each family has a safe room. What do families who have to run to public shelters feel like? The fact that every family in Israel doesn’t have a shelter or a safe room is a scandal. Families in Kiryat Shmona on the Lebanese border have been neglected for years. They are sitting ducks. During the last war they were evacuated. They were assured when the war ended that it was safe to go home. One farmer on Misgav Am right on the border was killed by friendly fire. War is too terrible.
Our youngest son-in-law has been in miluim (reserve duty) on and off for 900 days counting the Hamas war and this war. Serving in the air force, he is needed despite being 45, the age you can retire from the reserves. Our daughter Sheli manages with three children, works on Zoom and puts the kids to sleep in the safe room so that they can get through the night without being woken.
I don’t want to think about the continuous trauma of those forced to run to public shelters with their small children, their elderly parents and their beloved dogs yet again. Buildings have been destroyed, people wounded and it is only thanks to our technology that more people haven’t been killed.
Perhaps the worst is not trusting the people who are waging this war and who feed us slogans of victory. They turned out to be false a few months ago and so far aren’t true now either. If I knew that this was the last war, I might be more accepting. Too many people are losing their businesses and livelihoods, losing their freedom, losing their sanity and losing sleep.
Israel was just rated the eighth happiest country in the world. Are we completely detached from reality?
The explanation is that we are happy because existential threats bring out the best in us. We care for each other and support each other.
At this moment I would do almost anything to live in peace and rate lower on the happiness scale.
Naomi Feigin is Australian-born and lives in Israel.
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