That any state ceremonies commissioned this year must be changed to reflect the traumas that Israeli society has endured is obvious; how it is done is the question, and elected officials are trusted to be able to address it with care. In a move that showcases the degree of insensitivity and disconnect with the general public, Miri Regev, in charge of the Independence Day ceremony, handled it all wrong.
It all started on Monday, when Regev announced this year’s format: The torch-lighting ceremony, usually performed in front of a live audience, will be filmed in advance and with no audience present, she said. The remembrance section of the ceremony will be broadcast from Mount Herzl, and for the first time, it will take place alongside torches lit at sites across the country, mainly in the South, where the attacks and massacres took place, like the kibbutzim and the site of the Supernova music festival. Already on Saturday, Regev said there would not be a fireworks show either.
Already when the planning process began, she said, she understood it would have to be different this year to match the tone.
This is a valid and correct sentiment; of course, they should be changed to reflect the greatest tragedy to the Jewish state since its inception. Remembrance Day, which comes a day before and bleeds right into the happiness of the celebration of Independence Day, will be charged, painful, and traumatizing for everybody.
But closing it off to the public creates even more distance between the people and their elected officials, keeping them out of a ceremony that belongs to the people.
And this doesn’t even scratch the elephant in the room: General discontent, anger, and frustration toward this government since its inception, and particularly, mounting anger and disappointment over the failure to secure another hostage deal in more than six months since October 7.
The detailed announcement about the changes came on Monday, although the planning had begun at least a month ago. Regev had requested input from security officials about whether a live audience was possible, given that Mount Herzl is out in the open, wanting to know if shelter could be provided for 4,000 people should there be an immediate security risk.
The overall opinion of security officials was that there is no security reason to not have it with an audience, Ynet reported Tuesday. A discussion on the matter was held by all the relevant parties, during which a representative of the Shin Bet (Israel Security Agency) said even if there were air-raid sirens, they could guarantee security for everyone there.
Anger of hostage families
Some hostage families expressed anger – not the cribbed format, but that there is a ceremony at all. A nephew of hostage Avraham Monder told Ynet: “What is there to celebrate exactly? Think about our brothers and sisters who are in Gaza. You’ll celebrate and have a barbecue, while they eat a tiny piece of pita. To Israel’s shame, 133 hostages are being held in Gaza, and the minister decided that 12 people will be a part of this show, while our families are buried there.”
Einav Zangauker, the mother of Matan, who is being held hostage in Gaza, told Regev to cancel the ceremony. Dani Elgarat, the brother of hostage Itzhk Elgarat, told a Knesset committee on the hostages: “You’ll celebrate Independence Day without Am Yisrael? In front of an empty audience? This is your creative solution? Who are you going to celebrate with? October 7 left me feeling like what we worked so hard for here for 75 years is not worth anything.”
This puts the pain and suffering right on the table, and it begs the government to not ignore it anymore. Canceling the Israel Prize categories (and then reinstating them under legal pressure), and barely giving returned hostages enough money to get by every month, are just two examples of ways that this government is acting disconnected and insensitive to people who have given everything. The decision on the ceremony is another chain in the link.