The town of Sderot is enjoying summer. There are billboards announcing various activities. The playgrounds, although stifling hot, have some children at them. The shopping centers are full. This city appears to have recovered from the depressing days when it was evacuated after the October 7 massacre.
Founded in 1951, Sderot is a city of resilience. This is clear at the city’s local museum, Beit HaMisaidim, the Founders, which highlights the city’s journey and its cultural heritage today. The museum is located near the site of what was once the police station. That station was attacked on October 7 by almost thirty terrorists.
They committed a massacre here and today the area where the police station once stood is an empty lot, mostly cordoned off with metal sheeting. It has a pile of dirt in the middle and there are Israeli flags. On the wall of a nearby building is a giant mural showing scenes from the terror attack and a tank firing.
Across the way from the museum, there are civilian homes and shops. One of the civilian multi-story apartments also has a large mural relating to the city and its heroism. This is a city of heroes who fought the terrorists. This is especially true for the high death toll among the police defenders.
What we are reminded of in Sderot, in conversations with one of the hosts at the museum and others, is how the city appears vibrant on the surface and “normal,” but beneath it are still waters that run deep.
These depths include the pain and trauma of many years. It’s worth recalling that back in 2001, the first Qassam rocket fell on Sderot on April 16 of that year. Young children who grew up under the Qassam threat are now fighting in Gaza against the current Hamas monster. Maybe if we had stopped Hamas back then, rather than trying to manage the conflict, this could have all been prevented.
Sderot overcomes adversity
INSTEAD, Sderot has become a center of the conflict and also of resilience and flourishing in the face of this challenge. Today large cranes are building new buildings. People are moving here and most of the residents have returned. Unlike Kiryat Shmona, which is still mostly a ghost town where some residents say they won’t return, Sderot is full of its people. There is a strong national and municipal pride here.
On October 7, there were more than fifty rounds of sirens, and some 60 terrorists attacked the city from three sides. At the station, the terrorists held on and the station was destroyed in the battle; now there will be a memorial here to commemorate the deaths and heroism. Around 32,000 residents were evacuated in October while several thousand stayed. It has now been more than nine months since the evacuation and it has been half a year since the return.
From Sderot, I drove down to other communities on the Gaza border on July 22. At Zikim, the beach where a massacre took place is still closed. However, it appears that it may soon open because far in the distance, what looks like a new lifeguard tower and other construction seem to be taking place. In Kibbutz Zikim, peace and life appear to be returning.
However, we were reminded of the terror threat on the day we were there when a man tried to stab guards at the gate of Netiv Ha’Asara. That community suffered grievously on October 7. Now, a large Israeli flag flies from it near the Gaza border, showing that it is steadfast, too. The attempted attack on July 22 was thwarted. I heard the sirens from a hill in Sderot and saw the first responders, an ever-present reminder of the threats locals face.
DOWN THE road from Sderot, at a roundabout that leads to Nahal Oz, there are new signs that mention the 15 killed and seven kidnapped from the community on October 7. There is also a sign for the Nahal Oz IDF post where many soldiers were killed and where seven IDF lookouts were kidnapped. One was killed in Gaza, one was saved and five are still held. The signs call for an investigation into the failures of October 7. While the IDF is doing its own internal investigations, there are calls for a national one.
Further down toward Kibbutz Sa’ad, the road is lined with images of the hostages. As the road turns south, it heads past Alumim, the kibbutz, and then onward toward Be’eri and the site of the Nova Festival massacre. Here, the forest is festooned with new benches and memorials for the fallen. Artillery can be heard in the distance; the ground feels like it may shake, a feeling that shows that the war is still going on just a mile from here.
Further down along the border with Egypt, trucks are going to the Kerem Shalom crossing. Army vehicles ply the roads. There is also earth-moving equipment digging up trees along the road. The fields have become dry now, but some tractors are tilling the soil, kicking up dust that rises far into the air. It reminds me of a distant explosion, the kind of smoke that might billow from an artillery or air strike.
But today, it is agriculture that brings this dust. And that is a good thing. It means the war’s intense phase may be ending. However, just across the border, not far, 120 hostages are still held.