For Israelis, the show must go on - even during war with Hamas - opinion

We have no time to waste; we have families, we have children, we have work, we have a country to run. And if we don’t do it, we are going to lose it.

 THE WRITER with heroine Rachel Adari. (photo credit: HADASSAH CHEN)
THE WRITER with heroine Rachel Adari.
(photo credit: HADASSAH CHEN)

During World War II, life for the Jews had stopped. They were busy trying to survive – hiding, running, and escaping. They were forced into ghettos, where they faced immense challenges just to try to stay alive until they were taken to some concentration camp or mass grave, where they were tortured and eventually killed.

The non-Jews in Europe continued with their daily lives, aware that something was happening to the Jews but often choosing to ignore it.

Today, for Israelis, the situation feels like a mini-Holocaust after the events on October 7, especially for those who were directly hit in the South. Yet despite the ongoing conflict, daily life continues at an abnormal normalcy. While not confined to ghettos or seeking refuge in other countries, we still grapple with the emotional toll of the situation.

There is one big difference: We have our own country. In fact, for most of us life goes on as usual. Our kids go to school, we work, we go to eat in restaurants, we celebrate weddings, we go to concerts. Yet spiritually, in our souls and hearts, we are going through something that we have never experienced before, even though we have already been through many wars in Israel.

This analogy between the experiences of Jews during World War II and the current situation in Israel provides a powerful perspective on the complexities of daily life during the conflict.

 ANOTHER YEAR has gone by. (credit: HAMID ROSHAAN)
ANOTHER YEAR has gone by. (credit: HAMID ROSHAAN)

Maintaining normalcy amid times of war

It is evident that life for us in Israel has taken a surreal turn.

While some regions in the North and the South are profoundly impacted, others, like Jerusalem, continue with a semblance of normalcy. The contrast between external appearances and internal struggles underscores the emotional toll of the situation.

Instead of fleeing our country at war, we are witnessing an influx of Jews wanting to settle in Israel and make aliyah. Despite the ongoing war, there is an abundance of resources and support. Major foundations and organizations are giving all they can to support soldiers, orphans, and families from the North and the South. There’s a collective emotional bleeding that resonates across the nation.

The daily fear of tragic news, the thought of waking up in the morning and reading those horrible words “cleared for publication” followed by the names of the fallen soldiers of the day, the uncertainty surrounding captives, and the new heartbreaking stories emerging every day since Simchat Torah weigh heavily on the collective consciousness. The difficulties faced by those returning from captivity, the psychological scars on children and adults, and the challenges of rebuilding broken families after losses all contribute to the emotional burden.

Simultaneously, a war unfolds on two major fronts, affecting families and individuals in myriad ways. The sacrifices made by mothers sending their sons to war, the yearning of wives, girlfriends, and children missing their loved ones, and the incredible, sad, and miraculous stories all intertwine, painting a complex picture of resilience in the face of adversity.


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In spite of all, the country continues to function perfectly amid these challenges, showing a remarkable strength and unity prevailing despite the emotional roller-coaster. Indeed, the ability to navigate such multifaceted and overwhelming circumstances showcases the resilience and strength of the Israeli people.

No other country in the world could face so many ongoing dramatic situations while fighting a war. No other country could show such strength and unity while facing so much drama and disaster. No other country in the world can celebrate the festival of Hanukkah and light candles, trying to fight the darkness around us while singing songs with tears in our eyes and a smile on our face.

We are so unique. We have that crazy ability to contain in our minds and hearts sadness and happiness together while faith makes us move forward every single day, believing that there is a reason for everything, and eventually it will be good.

“Yihiye tov” as we say in Hebrew, or “It will be good,” has become our motto. We have become so much closer to one another. We pass a stranger on the street and if our eyes meet even for a second, we know that he or she is going through something too. We all have a relative, a friend, someone that was directly involved in this war. We are all in pain, and we are all in it together.

Even social differences have thinned out. The poor, the wealthy, the famous, and the powerful – somehow, we all feel the same. No amount of money or connections in the world can save us from ourselves. We have only each other to rely on and Hashem.

I personally go through something similar every year at this time, when the yahrzeit of my two-and-a-half year old daughter falls on the first night of Hanukkah and a week away from my birthday. I need to plan a Hanukkah party, gifts, laughter, baking, all while planning our annual trip to the cemetery, organizing a minyan of 10 men to recite Kaddish on my daughter’s grave, and then go home and unpack gifts with the kids while knowing in the back of my mind that my birthday is coming up.

Another year has gone by.

Hashem chose us as his nation for a reason; we are so powerful.

When my non-Jewish friend once came to visit us in Israel a few years ago, she saw the amount of food I was preparing for Shabbat and asked me in shock, “You do this every week? This is what we do for Christmas Day once a year!!”

We are geared differently. We are multi-taskers. Even now, knowing all that is going on in Israel, my friend is almost embarrassed to talk to me and ask me how I am. Where does she start? The war? The kidnapped? The soldiers? Hamas? It’s too much for a human being to embrace.

Not for us.

So we go on, like robots. We have no time to waste; we have families, we have children, we have work, we have a country to run. And if we don’t do it, we are going to lose it.

We dance, we sing, and if there’s a siren we run, we hide, we breathe, and then we go back out and keep dancing.

Just keep dancing.

Happy birthday to me. 

The writer, originally from Italy, lives in Jerusalem with her husband and four children. She heads HadassahChen Productions and hosts a weekly talk show on Arutz Sheva.