We received two totally unexpected posthumous gifts from our son Capt. Daniel Perez, 22, which highlight two core Jewish and human values.
On October 7, Daniel, an officer and commander of his tank crew, was based in the Nahal Oz army base. They fought courageously and valiantly for two-and-a-quarter hours until their tank was eventually overrun by Hamas terrorists. Their tank position was between Kibbutz Nahal Oz and the border, and they did all they could between 6:45 a.m. and 9 a.m. to prevent the first two waves of terrorists from entering the base and the kibbutz.
In their final battle they saw hordes of invading terrorists on motorbikes crossing the border. Without fear or hesitation, they left the security of their tank position to try to cut them off and to prevent their murderous intentions. After a brave battle, their tank was eventually overrun.
Crewmate Tomer’s lifeless body was found later that day in the tank, and Daniel and two other crewmates, Itai and Matan, were taken captive. After 163 days of torturous anticipation and anxiety, activism, and prayer, our son Daniel was declared dead – his death determined to have taken place on Simchat Torah, October 7.
His body is still held by Hamas, and we hope and pray that it is soon returned along with all the other deceased hostages for a dignified burial and that all those still alive be immediately reunited with their families.
During the past painful and challenging eight months, so many positive and unexpected things have been gifted to us. Our son gave us, among other remarkable things, two totally unanticipated and unforeseen gifts.
The power of friendship
The first is his incredible group of friends. My wife, Shelley, constantly says that this is perhaps the greatest gift that Daniel has left her.
We knew he had many friends, but we didn’t always appreciate how many and what the depths of those friendships were. They don’t leave us alone for a second. We are on WhatsApp groups with them, and they come regularly to our home to look after our needs and are here for us all the time.
They are now our friends. So much so that we would joke and say that when hopefully Daniel comes back, he would not be impressed by how we have taken all his friends, and he would demand them all back.
Daniel was a genius of friendship, with hundreds of friends and tens who were absolutely convinced that they were his best friend or him theirs. Friends from South Africa, having lived in South Africa until he made aliyah two months after his bar mitzvah. Friends from our hometown Yad Binyamin and the surrounding area; friends from his high school in Yeroham, friends from the army, and all types of people whom he met in between and on the way. People who were convinced that he was their most trusted confidant and best friend.
On his grave, we wrote, ‘תודומח שיא לאינד’ Daniel the beloved man. This is a verse from the Book of Daniel, describing how the biblical Daniel was so beloved to all he encountered. So, too, our Daniel was beloved and endeared himself to so many, but none more than to his family and his incredible array of friends.
Being a good, committed, and loyal friend has enormous spiritual significance.
Rabbi Yehoshua says in Ethics of the Fathers (2:10) that it is the most important spiritual quality.
Our Sages beautifully interpret the cryptic verse in psalm 122 וידחי הל הרבחש ריעכ םלורי – Jerusalem a city joined together – as םירבח לארשי לכ השועש םילשורי – Jerusalem that turns all of Israel into friends (Yerushalmi Hagigah 2:6).
Famously, our Sages say that the condition for receiving the Torah at Mount Sinai was the fact that we were “as one person with one heart” – together in friendship and unity. A sense of friendship and camaraderie, concern and empathy have always been crucial for Jewish destiny and are as critical as ever on a collective level today.
Taking personal responsibility
A second and most remarkable gift that Daniel left us was a diary that he had been writing – something we knew nothing about. This was found among his many possessions that were returned to us in boxes from the Nahal Oz base. Some of the things written in the opening pages of the diary gave us a glimpse into a side of Daniel that we did not know and one that he didn’t speak much about. It moved me to the core of my being.
In his diary, which he began writing in preparation for his first position as a commanding officer, he opens on the first page with a heading, “Things I think about before going to sleep.”
The first thing he mentions is the impact of his high school Poland trip, particularly after visiting the death camps – the price we paid as Jews not having a state and the ability to defend ourselves. Now that we have the privilege of a Jewish state and the opportunity to defend our national home and our families, concludes this first point with a charge to himself: ?ימ זא ינא אל םא״ , If not me, then who?”
In Daniel’s deepest thoughts about his purpose at this point in his life he felt the privilege of being a soldier and the need to stand up and be counted – if not me, then who? – not to shirk responsibility but to assume it – to do whatever he can for his people and family.
One for all
The second thing he reflects on is the personality of a fallen officer, Maj. Bar Falah. Here he writes out an incredible quote which was part of a speech that Bar gave on Remembrance Day two years ago, a number of months before he himself tragically fell in battle. This is something Daniel wanted to reflect on every night before going to sleep.
“On Remembrance Day we learn that there is something greater than life itself. There is something for which we are prepared to sacrifice our lives – the State of Israel. I will think about this at the time of the siren, while I stand with all the people of Israel in silence, I will remember all those heroes, but I will not bow my head. I lift my head up with a sharp look at the flag, with an upright chest, with pride, because these are all my brothers, brave and daring who, in the moment of truth, put aside all their personal desires and give their lives for the sake of God, our people, and our country.”
I think that two sentiments caught Daniel’s attention in these words. Firstly, not looking downward but looking upward toward the flag with pride – what it means to fight for Israel, and what it means to share a kinship with the fallen soldiers of Israel. Secondly, the way Bar concludes that life requires us at times to put aside self-focused individual needs for the sake of values much greater than ourselves.
Our dual mission
Shavuot and the receiving of the Torah is our rendezvous with Jewish destiny. The most essential Jewish value is the assumption of a critical dual life responsibility – for our own individual lives and for the lives of the collective. Making a difference to the טרפ and the ללכ – to the course of both our personal journey and our contribution to the public. To do all we can to heal two fractures and imperfections, in ourselves and in society, םלוע ןוקיתו ימצע ןוקית. The essence of personal and collective leadership is assuming full responsibility to be the best we can be and to make the biggest contribution we can.
The loss of a child is among the most painful human experiences. Within this terrible loss, I feel a measure of gratitude and comfort.
If it was decreed for some reason that last Rosh Hashanah would be Daniel’s last, I am grateful that it took place in such a merciful and meaningful way. We know that he was killed in the initial battle and, thank God, did not suffer. Although taken hostage, he never suffered, is not suffering, and will not suffer.
Daniel was where he wanted and needed to be on perhaps the most fateful day in the history of the modern State of Israel. He was able to fend off murderous terrorists for hours, save many lives, and to do all he could for his country and people when they needed him most. He assumed full personal responsibility to do all he could for the collective destiny of his people.
The State of Israel is the great blessing and collective opportunity of our generation. It is a privilege we ought never take for granted.
Jewish solidarity, friendship, and unity are more crucial than ever, as we continue the battle to bring every hostage home and dismantle Hamas’s murderous terrorist infrastructure.
Our soldiers live every day with a spirit of personal and collective responsibility – all for one and one for all.
We, as a people and society, must always strive to make space for each other, empathize with each other as friends and family, no matter what disagreements. Jewish destiny is deeply affected by our ability to act “as one person with one heart.”
Chag sameach!■
The writer is the executive chairman of World Mizrachi.