As the bombs stopped, the bond remained
Amidst tragedy there is honour, from trauma comes resilience, and ultimately we choose life over death.
“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.
Shai (name changed for security reasons) is a veteran pilot at the tender age of 25. He is tall, lean and strikingly handsome. As he shows me around his base his manner is reserved and yet determined. The F16 jet which he pilots stands ready for flight. Because of the sensitive nature of their operations, Shai is somewhat (understandably) vague in his response to my questions but what becomes clear is that he has ‘visited’ airspace in all the major war fronts which Israel has faced since 7 October 2023. His actual combat hours easily surpass that of the veteran pilot (aged 45) I meet in the base’s “cafe”. As Shai introduces me to other pilots, the control room staff and even the maintenance crew, the overwhelming majority are under the age of 30.
Ayala (name changed) is not yet 30. As a reserve officer in the IDF she has spent countless days directing operations in the southern command. It is her role to ensure that all appropriate approvals are in place (ensuring strategic, legal and humanitarian guidelines are followed) before a target in Gaza is attacked (as one would expect from the army in a values based Western democracy). When not in uniform, Ayala is employed by The Fourth Quarter, a grass roots political movement which works to ensure that in the fourth quarter century (i.e years 75-100) of Israel’s existence, the social and political divisions which exist are put aside in recognition of the shared society which the differing sectors all value. In her spare time, Ayala is
also sought after as a spokesperson for her generation on Israeli TV. And when I turned on the TV the other morning following a missile attack in Petach Tikva there was Ayala leading a group of volunteers to painstakingly clear damaged apartments, thus enabling the return of residents and their families. “I love the State of Israel and the people of Israel. The young people in Israel see the discord and disunity amongst the older generation and we are tired of it. We understand that in the end what is important is to move forward and to act. This is our way of showing the way forward; is there someone who needs help? The importance of volunteering is our expression of solidarity. Even if it is inconvenient or dangerous we will stand with those who need it.”
I meet Danielle Abraham outside the gates to Kibbutz Nahal Oz. Danielle (in her 30’s) is the CEO of Regrow. She is heavily pregnant with her 3rd child. The kibbutz is still grieving the terrible events of October 7 in which more than a dozen members including children and elderly were murdered and a number kidnapped into Gaza. (You can read an account of the experience of Nahal Oz on this day in the searing novel The Gates of Gaza by Israeli journalist, and Nahal Oz resident, Amir Tibon). On October 7 Hamas’ terrorism extended to destroying much of the agricultural assets of the area’s kibbutzim and moshavim. They wantonly set on fire dairies, destroyed farming equipment, crops and greenhouses, and shot livestock.
On the day after October 7 Danielle pivoted the focus of Regrow to assist in the recovery of the area, understanding that 70% of Israel’s fresh produce comes from the Western Negev area. As I accompanied Danielle and some American donors on a tour of the area, Danielle was treated like a hero; every piece of farm equipment which was destroyed has now been replaced due to the success of Regrow. The organisation also turned its attention to the north where constant bombardment by Hezbollah and the evacuation of many settlements in the north meant that the agricultural sector there was also seriously impacted. “Personally I wanted to find a way to contribute to rebuilding, to ease the pain of others and to create a stronger future for our country” Danielle tells me while she reluctantly takes a month of maternity leave. “Let us not forget that the State of Israel was built by a younger generation. I believe that this generation is no different. The younger generation today understands that the Zionist dream is not complete”.
I am writing this in the immediate aftermath of the ceasefire announced between Israel and Iran. After 12 days and interrupted nights with new friends made from regular visits to the neighborhood bomb shelter the feeling is one of exhaustion. I look at the faces of the young; many on a break from their service, others with young families. Surely Alterman, as I am, would be in awe of the commitment of this generation as the “dew glistens on their head”.
Mark Joel is an independent adviser guiding families and donors with their philanthropy. He has held senior executive positions within the Melbourne Jewish community.