As the bombs stopped, the bond remained

“A youth and a lass slowly march toward the nation
Dressed in battle gear, dirty, shoes heavy with grime, they ascend the path quietly They didn’t change their clothes, they didn’t wipe their brows,
Still bone weary from days and nights in the battlefield
Yet wearing their youth like dew glistening on their head.”

The Silver Platter by Natan Alterman (1947)

The poignant words of Israeli poet Natan Alterman laud the sacrifices of the young pioneering generation which helped found the State of Israel. And tragically, heroically, Alterman’s words have returned with traumatic relevance. The public spaces of Israel – from bus shelters to bollards to highway signage – are replete with haunting images of fallen soldiers, invariably too young. They are everywhere – modest postcard like stickers, pithily representing more than 900 lost soldiers since October 7, created by family and friends, appealing to, reminding the public, of the bitter loss which the destruction of each of their lives means.

And yet, as the Israelis themselves (and indeed Jews from time immemorial) have learned, amidst tragedy there is honour, from trauma comes resilience, and ultimately we choose life over death.

For within the stress and distress, there is an inspiring story to be told. It is the story of the youth of Israel – as Alterman describes them – with no time to change their dirty, battle worn clothes – they have led the response of civil society since October 7. Even as I write these words, shortly following the US attack on the Iranian nuclear facilities – and with the daily missile attacks which have caused widespread and devastating physical destruction – the youth of Israel can be seen at the forefront of recovery efforts, literally hours after a site has been cleared by the authorities.