Today is the 135th day of the war, and if you follow other Israelis or Jews online, you may have seen posts stating things like, “today is October 135th”. For many people, it seems that the brutal Hamas massacre—families burned alive, women and girls violently raped and sexually assaulted, individuals tortured, people abducted—has somehow become an irrelevant footnote, conveniently pushed aside and forgotten as though it never happened – indeed, I keep coming across individuals who believe that. Israelis, however, are still in agony – still processing what happened on the darkest day we’ve ever known as a country and everything that’s happened since. The sharpest, most jagged edges of this collective pain and grief may have dulled during the ensuing four months, but Israel is still very much a nation in mourning.
More than 100,000 Israelis are still internally displaced – both survivors from the Gaza envelope communities and Israelis living in Northern border communities forced to evacuate due to extensive Hezbollah shelling (did you know that Israelis are being wounded and killed up north as well?). No one knows when any of them will be able to return – in many of these communities, the damage is extensive and will require rebuilding.
Hardly a week goes by when authorities don’t confirm the deaths of even more Israelis – some were hostages who were either killed or died in captivity, while others were murdered on October 7th and their bodies taken to Gaza, ostensibly to be used as bargaining chips by Hamas (though that might be the best case scenario). With regard to the latter, these are people who were assumed to have been abducted and whose names were on the list of the kidnapped. We found out a few weeks ago that a boy who was in preschool with our son was one of the soldiers murdered on October 7th. His body is being held by terrorists in Gaza. Four nearly four months, his parents had absolutely no idea what happened to him – if he was alive or dead. Now they know, but how much comfort can there be in not being able to bury the body of their child – in knowing that terrorists may have done unthinkable things to him both before and after they killed him? Can you imagine?
The Israel that we have become since October 7th is very different from the Israel that existed before that day. After four months, we still don’t know how to casually ask people how they’re doing in a tone that doesn’t sound slightly tinged with an apology for asking – nor do we know how to answer in a way that sounds simple. We often question whether we should do things that bring us joy or make us laugh. I made a quick trip to the US in January for a family wedding, and this is the first time I’ve posted about it publicly. It didn’t feel appropriate to do so against the backdrop of everything happening in Israel – to post photos (though I hardly took any) or share my adventures (such that they were), or even to mention that I was taking a vacation, albeit for a family event that I’d been looking forward to for many months.
The past four months have been exhausting. Israelis know how to fight in a war, but make no mistake. We didn’t want this war. We don’t want this war. We do not want our children, our partners, our loved ones, our friends, our colleagues, our acquaintances, our neighbors to die. We don’t want innocent Palestinians to die.
In terms of what we do want, there are two things that most if not all can Israelis agree upon. We want our hostages back, and we want Hamas to be so incapacitated that they are unable to brutalize us ever again. Make no mistake – I want Hamas to be destroyed. With that, I’d be lying if I said I’m completely convinced that these things are attainable, and I worry that the situation will become much worse before there’s even a chance that it will get better.
I believe that we have come this far in spite of our government – not because of it. I don’t trust our ruling coalition, nor do I believe they are capable of—or even interested in—doing what’s best for the country. I fear there is no endgame, nor plans for the day after – not in any practical, executable terms. I’m concerned that we are pushing our friends away, that the extremists running the country and the malevolent narcissist at the top (it’s hard for me to call him a leader, as he doesn’t seem to be leading) are being so short-sighted and selfish that we will become even more isolated and hated than we are now – especially (but not only) if we don’t reign in our own extremists, whether they’re in the government or attacking Palestinians in the West Bank.
People outside of Israel talk about a ceasefire, as though it will somehow bring resolution. But a ceasefire would be like a Band-Aid on a gaping, bloody wound. The bleeding would stop for a little while, but for how long? Until the next time Hamas decides to goad us or attack us as they did on October 7th, breaking a ceasefire that was in place until that moment? What about the hostages? Do we just abandon them and leave them to their fate, people of all ages who are most certainly being tortured and abused, according to those who have been released? And of course, we are still dealing with Hezbollah in the north, wondering when their aggressive actions will drag us into a war with them as well – especially since no one besides Israel seems to care that they’ve been firing rockets at us since October 8th, causing internal displacement, extensive damage and several deaths.
So where does this leave us? I want the war to be over. I wish it could be, though I’m not sure how that can happen. Not now. It’s October 135th, and there are no lights at the end of the tunnels.
