Every year, following the Passover holiday, Israel enters a somber period culminating in Independence Day (Yom HaAtzmaut). Eight days earlier, Holocaust Day (Yom HaShoah) is observed with memorials throughout the country. Stories from the ever-decreasing contingent of survivors are shared on television, in schools, and even in one’s living room: Zikaron BaSalon (remembrance in the living room). Poignant accounts of both loss and survival reawaken us to the Jewish past and, at a time of festering antisemitism, alert us to the dangers of apathy.
Exactly one week after Yom HaShoah, sirens sound proclaiming the start of Yom HaZikaron. Israel Memorial Day commemorates those who fell protecting Israel in the wars of survival that have been fought nearly continuously since the rebirth of the Jewish homeland. Television programming again is dedicated to loss. Following October 7, 2023, most stories involve the hostages or bereaved families sharing coping mechanisms and tragedies. In the morning of Yom HaZikaron, millions gather in cemeteries dispersed throughout Israel to honor our fallen heroes and to support their families. It is a rare family that escapes the battle scars of our conflicts.
Yet the mood of the country, while one of sadness and mourning, also reflects hope, determination, and resilience. Jen Airley, the mother of Sergeant Binyamin Airley who fell in the Northern Gaza Strip in November 2023, serves as a beacon of strength and faith. She has channeled her personal loss into efforts to help other families cope with the depression and questions that accompany the tragedy of losing a child, a parent, a spouse, or a partner. Jen and her husband, Rob, built and oversee Beit Benjamin, a rehabilitation center in the serenity of Tzfat, where soldiers and their loved ones can receive the therapy needed to begin healing from their emotional and spiritual wounds.
Jen and Rob are a paradigm that reflects the spirit of Israel. In the twilight hours of Yom HaZikaron, many synagogues and organizations hold a Tekes Maavar (transition ceremony): In a small shul in Ramat Beit Shemesh, we heard a 52-year-old former Golani soldier articulate the emotions of switching from Yom HaZikaron to Yom HaAtzmaut: “You flick a switch and travel from the depths of despair to the apex of joy.” He described the transition as moving from the vacuum of remembering the loss of those who fell around you to the euphoria of living in your own Jewish State. This Golanchik still sleeps poorly and sometimes dreams of the battles and of his comrades-in-arms who remain frozen in time. Time moves forward, however, and although the pain of death never disappears, his current challenge is living with the fact that two of his sons are now serving in the IDF. “It is much harder being the father of two combat soldiers than being a soldier myself.”
The congregation remained transfixed as the former Golani soldier introduced his son, who recounted his own service in Gaza. When the war broke out, this young man was finishing training in his Golani brigade. On October 7, 2023, he was taken directly from shul in Ramat Beit Shemesh to a base abutting the Gaza envelope. After one month, he and his unit entered Gaza. One day, they were caught in an ambush, and while extracting the wounded in his unit, he was hit by enemy fire. It was hard to breathe listening to this 22-year-old boy/man talk about the close encounters he had with death and being helicoptered to Hadassah for emergency surgery. Few eyes were dry as he recounted losing nine fellow Golanchiks in the Shejaiya Kasbah of Gaza while he was recovering from his wounds. Later, as a new Mefaked Kitah (squad commander), he narrowly survived a suicide drone attack on his base because he was taking outstanding soldiers to dinner. Four of his squad were killed in the drone attack, and he personally pulled the bodies of his friends from the rubble.
“Why did these events happen to me?” he asked. “Why was I spared when others died?” His answer was to learn from the lives of his friends who made the ultimate sacrifice: To live with a renewed faith, with a reinforced determination, and to view every day as a gift. Like his father, this soldier believes in the importance of a joyful life. He is proud that, unlike 80 years ago, our soldiers can protect the Jewish people from forces wishing for their destruction.
The Rabbi, who was the last speaker at the Tekes Maavar, spoke of the grit of Tzippy Leiter, who lost her husband, Major Moshe Yedidya Leiter, in battle. In describing her husband’s life, Tzippy has stated that he lived every day as a kiddush Hashem. Death is a once-in-a-lifetime event, but every day one’s life can be used to sanctify the Lord. Each day must be lived as an opportunity to bring light unto the nations. That is the ultimate mission of the Jew.
As we transitioned into Israeli Independence Day, 24 hours of celebration cloaked the country. Trepidations were put aside and we danced in the streets. Our young people exploited the fragile ceasefires with Hezbollah and Iran, and normalcy reigned. We watched the national Bible contest on the tube and competed to get the correct answers. Tens of thousands went to the countryside and consumed food prepared on mangals (barbecues). At least for a day, happiness dominated the national agenda. We pray that, like my Golani son-in-law and my Golani grandson, the Israeli people will face the future with fortitude, strength, and wisdom. May Hashem provide us with guidance and protection, and may the pain our people have experienced be transformed into peace, tranquility, and much joy.
Dr. Fred Naider