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Every year I write a column called ‘Letter from Israel’ for the Edinburgh Star magazine, and this year was no exception. Last year, I described life here as characterised by disbelief. A year on, I explained that the unthinkable has become routine.
I never expected the column to be difficult to write. But when the rulers of Gaza attacked Israeli innocents in 2023 and retreated to their tunnels, we entered a psychological tunnel of our own, from which we have yet to emerge.
Conflicts in Israel are felt everywhere: pride and disgust in the conduct of our government; sectarianism and solidarity in society; a booming economy while businesses fail and prices rise; extraordinary personal sacrifice by some despite bitter efforts by others to avoid contribution; strong support from the US and Arab neighbours, but betrayal by Europe.
What is the view from here?
Local news reports open by pronouncing the number of days of the war. Israeli hostages taken by Hamas in the latter’s opening blow in 2023 remain in captivity. Severely underweight, released hostages testify to the starvation, torture and sexual abuse they suffered at the hands of Hamas. Throughout Israel yellow ribbons adorn trees, street poles, door handles, and almost anything else, keeping the hostages at the forefront of our minds. Large swathes of the population rally almost daily for a deal, any deal, to be made that will see those hostages released. All events, public and private, begin and end with a prayer for the safe return of the hostages and the soldiers sent to Gaza to find them.
Many here feel a sense of betrayal by the international media, which dumbs down their reports of the Gaza war. They justify Palestinian attacks on Israelis, the latter who are presented as genocidal monsters. Israelis’ trauma and pain, experienced every day for almost two years, are overlooked. By contrast, genuine distress in Gaza is devalued by media fabrications and conflations. A perfect example is a picture hastily syndicated worldwide of starvation in Gaza, which turned out to be Mohammed Zakariya Ayyoub al‑Matouq, a child with cerebral palsy and hypoxemia. His healthy brother was edited out of the photo. There is a mountain of similar false reporting. Feeling responsible, we watch this news and wring our hands, wondering whether we have breached our duty as humans. But the same media accuses us of genocide, and we know that’s simply not true. It isn’t in our upbringing or our military training. The same cannot be said of the Gazans; every soldier I’ve spoken to has told me of bedrooms in Gaza with weapons and children’s books inciting the murder of Jews. My Israeli Palestinian friends are torn seeing what is happening to both their communities. They are also grateful not to be living under Hamas, and many want Israel to ‘finish them’.
Seeing the media abroad, one might be forgiven for being unaware that the Hamas massacre wasn’t designed to liberate Palestinians; that many Palestinians are Israelis, that Arabs, Muslims, Druze and Bedouins serve in the IDF, that numerous Arab countries are allied with and support Israel in its fight against Hamas. But I cannot forgive them for not seeing what is in front of their eyes: that recent disruptions and violence to their societies are caused by anti-Israel protesters, not by Israelis or Jews. I have never felt more certain of Israel’s need and right to exist.
Accusations of Israeli institutionalised oppression contradict my own experience. In Edinburgh, I went to see a protest against Barclays Bank on Princess Street for purportedly funding Israeli arms. In discussion with the protesters, I gently shared that I am Israeli and had come to learn. In a thick Scottish accent, I was subjected to a tirade describing Israeli apartheid and genocidal practices. As an Israeli lawyer I worked with Arab attorneys and appeared before Muslim judges. I have simply not seen any of what the protester described. He continued by denying Hamas savagery perpetrated against Israelis that started this current war. (Puzzling, considering that the attackers personally filmed and publicised their acts so they couldn’t be denied). Here, too, I showed surprise. I’ve been to the Gaza envelope communities and seen the devastation. “Where in Israel did you see these things?” I honestly asked. It was clear that, like most of his ilk, he’d never seen Israel for himself. “Ach, you’ve been brainwashed by the Zionists!” was his response.
And there’s the rub. People believe whatever supports their preconceptions. That’s why I write a blog titled ‘The View From Here’; to share facts and perspectives ignored by the media.
With designs to bring about a world caliphate, Iran spent decades investing billions in proxy armies surrounding Israel, its first intended conquest. This included Hamas, which took over Gaza in 2005. Anticipating the building of a vibrant Palestinian state in Gaza, the international community provided it will billions in international aid. Hamas hijacked these funds to instead construct an estimated 500 km of tunnels underneath the strip - an area 40km long and approximately 10 km wide. That’s why most residents live near the poverty line. The underground city that was built, below civilian neighbourhoods and facilities, is off-limits to regular Gazans. In the almost two years since Israel was attacked, it has only succeeded in safely destroying about 30% of those tunnels due to efforts to minimise collateral damage. Nonetheless, the Gazans have suffered terribly. Israelis feel stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Iran’s proxies - Hamas and the Houthis in the south and Hezbollah in the north - fired thousands of missiles at Israeli cities. Accordingly, we have spent much of the last year in bomb shelters. Tens of thousands of Israelis fled their homes, many of which were destroyed by missiles. To stymie the onslaught from the north, Israel engineered the explosion of Hezbollah military pagers, putting its fighters out of action with no collateral damage. Lebanese citizens, terrorised by Hezbollah for years, cheered as its national army could begin disarming Hezbollah, a feral Muslim force in a Christian Arab country. The process is precarious and ongoing. As a knock-on effect, the vicious Syrian Assad regime, propped up by Iran and the now incapacitated Hezbollah, was easily overthrown by rebels with former ISIS connections. When Bedouin groups supported by the new power perpetrated a massacre of Syrian Druze communities, Israel was the only government to step up to the plate and stop the massacre, resulting in its condemnation by a morally confused international community. Many in the region are now safer. But this seems too complex for critics to understand.
Last year, on one single night, Iran directly fired 300 explosive drones, cruise and ballistic missiles at Israeli cities, and our consciousness here changed. In the middle of the night, I sat huddled with my neighbours as firepower equivalent to that of the nuclear bomb dropped on Hiroshima was fired at me from a country far away. Numerous regional countries acted in unison to defeat the threat. The lack of international outcry, however, against this very real, genocidal act gave me to understand my lack of value - as an Israeli and a Jew - in the eyes of the world.
The Ayatollahs continued to rattle their sabres. On June 13 this year, Israel attacked the regime’s missile launchers and nuclear facilities. I was hosting Shabbat dinner at home. As we stood to make kiddush, missile alerts sounded from everyone’s phones, carried during Shabbat for that purpose, and we all rushed to the shelter. You never really get used to the screeching alarm of the Home Command phone app, which precedes the ghostly air raid siren that echoes through the streets, announcing time to missile impact.
After receiving the all-clear, we returned from the shelter to our dinner. Throughout the evening, my guests’ 10-year-old daughter kept leaving her seat and wandering over to the front door. It soon became apparent the little girl was terrified of another missile attack and wanted quick access to the shelter. Moments later, she was proven correct, and we headed back down.
In the shelters, discombobulated parents calm crying children, while pet dogs shake uncontrollably from the loud booms overhead.
When the belligerence with Iran ended after 12 days, Yemen’s Houthis renewed their ballistic attacks on Israel. Even today, I’m ready to run to my closest shelter at a moment’s notice, and that’s sometimes all the notice we get.
Over the last 12 months I’ve given talks in the US, the UK and Australia about the realities of life here. Everywhere I went, Persian ex-pats universally blessed me. “Israel is the hand of God”, said Sayeed in Melbourne. “Ayatollah extremists have destroyed my country and want to take the world. But the IDF is like a surgeon, cutting out a cancer to save the body. Part of the body will be damaged, but to save the body, you have no choice”. In Abu Dhabi, I was showered with sweets from a Persian candy seller, who insisted we were brothers. And yes, I was similarly received by Persians living in Edinburgh and London.
In May I visited Jordan, most of whose citizens are Palestinian. I was received as an Israeli with open arms.
Society here is stretched to its limits. There is little faith in the government. Our right-wing government is in a struggle for supremacy over the courts. It’s bickering endlessly to prevent the recruitment of ultra-orthodox students. It refuses to officially investigate the systemic failures of October 7. It’s maintaining military pressure to force a deal with Hamas, which seems to be carrying all the cards. Many feel the government’s agenda is political self-preservation above all else.
Each of these decisions comes at a cost to us, as well as to the battered Gazans. But the costs resulting from decisions of the Hamas death cult are even more tragic. It has no incentive to deal with Israel when lauded as a liberator abroad. It steals aid sent to Gazan civilians, knowing that the media will blame Israel for their hunger. It refuses to release Israeli hostages, instead publishing photos of their beaten, withered bodies to pressure the Israeli government to capitulate to protester demands for a Hamas terror state.
We are exhausted and confused. We want the media to be truthful. We want protesters worldwide to see they’re being manipulated. We want our pain to be seen. We don’t want to live in a ‘battle of us or them’. We want it to be over. For our sakes. For the Gazans’ sake.
This is a beautiful country with a resilient people. As ‘a light unto the nations, we know what we stand for. Festivals are taking place, music is performed, and people are dancing.
On Purim, Jerusalem streets were filled to the brim with dancing youth showing that the Jewish spirit will endure. Through it all, we continue building a better life for us, our neighbours and the world.
Recently, an American friend living here couldn’t handle the daily strain or the hostile news from abroad. I drove her to En Rafa, an Arab village on the outskirts of Jerusalem. We sat in a lovely restaurant overlooking the local mosque, eating a delicious salad and drinking Arab coffee. Israeli Muslims, Christians and Jews sat side by side, enjoying the laid-back Friday atmosphere. Some of us continued on to a spring at the edge of the village and refreshed ourselves in the cool waters. I marvelled at this reality.
If only the world would see.
