Just being there is being part of the story
Anna Pasternak reflects on a recent extended stay in Israel.
I spent nearly six months in Israel during the ongoing Gaza War. I felt the need to be there to bear witness and support our embattled homeland in whatever small way I could. As the director of The AJN, I felt it important that we had an Australian “on the ground”, someone who straddles both worlds.
Despite the massive geographical distance between Australia and Israel, when news breaks in Israel, it breaks simultaneously around the globe, so being in Israel or on the other side of the world can emotionally feel the same. For example, when Shiri Bibas and her young sons, Kfir and Ariel, were confirmed murdered in Hamas captivity, it took no longer for Australians to hear the tragic news, than it did for Israelis. The emotional impact of the news was the same in Israel and in the Diaspora and I realised that in some respects, it’s harder to be outside Israel than inside.
Here in Australia, we are forced to passively watch events unfold in Israel, in many ways powerless to effect any tangible impact. In Israel, just being there is being part of the story. Whether on a train, walking on a beach or in a cafe, you feel part of something much bigger. Every small thing you do feels significant, and this feeling gave me enormous strength and courage.
I realised how hard it is being a member of a minority in the Diaspora, constantly being gaslit and attacked, constantly having to defend what you know is the truth. Being in Israel, you feel the strength of being surrounded by people who have and are experiencing your exact reality. No need to justify. No need to explain.
Israelis do not have the luxury of listening to relentless global criticism and scrutiny; they do not have the strength or the time to worry about the rise of antisemitism and they certainly have no energy to waste on the tsunami of anti-Israel media and commentary. Outside issues became “white noise” and many of the challenges facing Australian Jews seemed wonderfully insignificant from the epicentre of the war. As one Israeli taxi driver I spoke to said to me: “Anything negative that weakens our strength or distracts us from our mission, is irrelevant and destructive.”
A friend of mine who has two children in the army said to me: “For the first two weeks after October 7, I sat glued to the TV. Watching in horror but unable to function normally. Then I said to myself: I am not in the army; I have served my time already. My contribution to the war effort is to keep things as normal as possible for my children, so that when they return home, they see what life after the war will look like. They will see that life goes on and we will have normal lives again. My job is to create a stable and warm home so that despite the chaos around them, they know that home is safe and secure.”
From my observations, Israelis are focused on two major issues: the first is winning the war and bringing home the hostages. The second is the internal political crisis caused by the never-ending Bibi reign and the political chaos his leadership has caused and continues to cause. There is deep distrust of him personally, and most Israelis want him to step aside and call elections. It is unbelievable that the Prime Minister of Israel has been unable to attend a single funeral (and bear in mind there have been many hundreds) because of the hatred and anger that he would confront. His PR team clearly know that scenes of distraught parents, burying their children is not a good look for a Prime Minister who has taken zero responsibility for the worst military failure in Israel’s history.
The hostage crisis is the fault line in Israel, and how brilliant were Hamas in using our humanity against us? Israelis are desperate for the safe return of the living hostages, while simultaneously they know they must destroy Hamas if there is to be any future. Tragically, there is so little trust in Bibi’s government, many Israelis truly believe he has made choices for personal political gain that have compromised the return of the hostages and caused the prolonging of the war. The distrust and loathing is so high that even this shocking and cynical premise is widely believed. The relentless protests are a constant reminder of the pain and anger Israelis feel both about the war and about their government.
The feeling of being embattled on the global stage is somewhat mitigated by international support. Israel has embraced overseas supporters like Erin Molan, treating them like superstars. Outspoken voices of reason and clarity resonate throughout Israel, and she was treated like a rock star when she visited. On hearing I was Australian, most Israelis keenly asked me about Erin and praised her bravery and passion for justice.
Sadly, many Israelis I met asked about the antisemitism here in Australia and joked about it being more dangerous in Australia than in Israel. Some asked whether it was safe for Jews or Israelis, and I struggled to give them a coherent answer. I was ashamed to hear how the terrible rise in antisemitism has deeply tarnished Australia’s name as a tolerant and safe multicultural country. Even in the US, people questioned me about antisemitism in Australia. It was truly pathetic and embarrassing.
Of course, financial support from overseas donors is deeply appreciated. I attended several barbecues for soldiers paid for by Diaspora communities or generous individual donors and, especially during the cold winter months, these brought comfort and strength to the soldiers. We think of Israel as a hot, desert climate, but it was bitterly cold in winter. I went to the bases on the Gaza border during these months and because it is desert, the nights are extremely cold. I helped distribute thermal undergarments and jackets to the soldiers, again donated by communities in various countries. These clothes really helped the soldiers get through the freezing nights and were received with great appreciation.
There is no doubt that the war has impacted millions of Jews in the Diaspora, but in Israel the vast majority of people have family directly affected by the war. Whether their children are serving in the army or whether they know hostages or people killed in the past 18 months, no one is untouched by this disaster. There are still posters on every street of the hostages, stickers everywhere of the fallen and yellow ribbons tied to cars and trees.
The strength and power we have mustered during this crisis has given the Jewish community globally and in Israel enormous strength and a realisation that we truly are invincible when we come together. The tragedy is that the only thing that can break us is exactly what is going on politically in Israel now, and a new leadership is the only way the nation can begin to heal.
I realised that Israelis love and hate each other, possibly in equal measures. They are willing to die for each other, fight for each other, send their boys and girls to protect each other, but they are also deeply divided and angry at each other.
The most obvious example of this is the ultra-Orthodox enlistment crisis. You are sitting on a train and in front of you is an exhausted combat soldier, often so young they barely need to shave, holding his weapon with dirt on his army boots, still covered in the dust and mud from Gaza; and to your left, is a Charedi or ultra-orthodox man davening silently, his life sheltered from the reality of war, safely protected by the sacrifice this young soldier is making for him. No acknowledgement, no shame, just the crazy reality many Israelis are struggling to comprehend. How can one community in Israel be exempt from the sacrifice made by millions of others in their country. Some of these religious communities are so isolated, they don’t even know the war is still ongoing!
On one train ride, I sat opposite an Israeli border police officer armed and in uniform, and next to him were an Israeli Arab couple, chatting loudly in Arabic. No one looked twice at them, no one cared, it is just part of the norm.
I must admit I wasn’t entirely comfortable. The memories of the second Intifada linger in my mind: the bus bombings, the suicide vests, the death and destruction. But in Israel, where 21 per cent of the population is Arab, and where some Muslims and Christians, as well as Druze serve in the army, it is impossible to flinch every time Arabic is heard. I felt slightly ashamed of my fear as, of course, the Arab couple were simply doing what I was doing, heading home. No more, no less, but that is what Arab violence has done to so many: made them fearful of the other.
There is no doubt that the soldiers of the IDF are the pride and joy of the nation. Their bravery and heroism is celebrated everywhere. Once I was in a restaurant with an armed friend in uniform, an active soldier who had just returned from Gaza. At the end of our meal, the waitress came and gave us dessert. She explained that the manager had sent it over to thank him for his service. This was not an isolated incident. Most Israelis are truly grateful to the thousands of men and women in green.
It is impossible to describe in one word the mood in Israel, but the adjective that jumps to mind is weary. Israelis are tired of the war. They need it to end. The staggered release of hostages has caused national pain and trauma. Every week, the conversation of “who are we getting back” and speculation on who’s dead and who’s alive, is deeply disturbing and macabre. It’s death by a thousand cuts and, of course, we have felt it here just as painfully.
Little is spoken of the dire economic effects of the war on certain segments of the population. I went to many major tourist sites and was often alone there, with tourists still staying away. The effect of this is impossible to quantify: bus drivers who have no one to take around Israel, guides with no groups to guide, hotels with massive staff layoffs as another year of empty hotel rooms becomes the reality, shops which cater for tourists closed, many restaurants once bustling with tourists remain shuttered as it is simply not worth opening their doors. Not only did the tourist sector have to absorb the fallout effects of the COVID pandemic, a short while later, they were once again hit hard. Many guides who earned their living from teaching tourists about Israel’s history, are leaving to teach overseas. Others are desperately trying to cobble together a living, often based on tourists wanting to go to the Gaza envelope to see the Nova Festival site, and then quickly departing Israel, not wanting to stay any longer. Visits to Israel which may have been for a couple of weeks, have turned into weekends.
To conclude, I would say that the mood is sombre yet hopeful. The overwhelming success of the military strategy in Lebanon and the consequent fall of the Assad regime has helped restore some of the confidence lost in the IDF, as has the current and decisive military action being taken in Gaza. Most Israelis I met said that they know we must defeat Hamas and change the geopolitical reality for good.
Israelis cannot continue to live like this. It is a country that has been conditioned to accept the unacceptable: building kindergartens in bomb shelters and waking sleeping families in the middle of the night to run to bomb shelters, has been normalised. But it is not normal and must never be accepted as a norm. Israelis deserve better and know they must do whatever it takes to change the unacceptable reality that has been forced upon them.
There is a famous and poignant son –, Ein Li Eretz Acheret, which means “I have no other land”. Ten million Israelis don’t have anywhere else to go, nor do they want to go anywhere else. They are proud of the incredible country they have built, and they love their country deeply.
When you stop and think of the challenges this tiny country has faced in its short history, it truly is miraculous that Israel even exists. One thing October 7 has given Israelis is clarity: they know they are in an existential battle with an enemy intent on their annihilation and that they no longer have the luxury of fantasising about a two-state solution. It has come down to survival, and losing is not an option.
comments