Bright Spots and Dark Blotches 

Binyamin Rose

Before October 7

I wrote that the US-Israel relationship was bruised and battered but not broken.

Since October 7

the vital organs have remained functioning amid new and growing fractures.

The United States botched an unprecedented opportunity to reclaim the mantle of moral clarity by failing to grant unequivocal support to Israel in its existential battle against Iran and its proxies.

The US seemed headed in the right direction when President Biden arrived in Israel 11 days after the October 7 massacres. Israel had declared war on Hamas. Biden billed his stopover as a solidarity visit to a strategic ally violated savagely on one of its holiest and happiest holidays.

The optimism evaporated during his 31-hour visit.

Before flying back to Washington, Biden announced a new $100-million aid package for the Palestinians. He pressured Israel to open the spigots of humanitarian aid to Gaza without linkage to the release of all 251 hostages, including 12 Americans, kidnapped by Hamas. Upon returning to the White House, Biden lectured Israel during a 15-minute televised speech, urging them to apply the lessons the US learned after 9/11 and not be consumed by rage.

A stream of administration officials followed up in person on Biden’s visit, joining cabinet meetings to dictate limitations on the IDF in its multi-front battles against Hamas and Hezbollah. Barely a day went by without the US warning Israel to limit civilian casualties, which Israel was doing anyway, or browbeating Israel over humanitarian aid despite evidence that Hamas was hijacking the aid trucks and reselling the stolen goods at exorbitant prices.

The US did help broker a deal in November under which Hamas released some 50 hostages in exchange for a short-term cease-fire and the release of 150 Palestinian prisoners held by Israel.

Optimism reigned that the deal could be expanded but faded after Hamas’s insistence that future hostage exchanges were contingent upon a total cessation of hostilities and complete IDF withdrawal from Gaza.

Autumn Gives Way to a Frigid Winter

December 2023–January 2024

As the death toll in Gaza surpassed 20,000 — at least by Hamas’s count — the US pressed Israel continuously to commit to a postwar plan to rehabilitate Gaza and resume progress toward a two-state solution long before Israel achieved the military goals they set to eradicate Hamas and its military infrastructure. Prime Minister Netanyahu’s insistence that Israel retains a military presence in Gaza and along Gaza’s border with Egypt didn’t go down well in Washington.

In February 2024, the personal criticism went public. The Office of the Director of National Intelligences issued a report mentioning Netanyahu by name for opposing America’s vision of postwar diplomacy including territorial compromise, and questioning Netanyahu’s viability as a leader in light of “his governing coalition of far-right and ultra-orthodox parties that pursued hardline policies on Palestinian and security issues.”

A rainy winter ended with humanitarian agencies predicting a famine in Gaza and the US airlifting aid to Gaza.

A Hot and Cold Spring

April–June 2024

An April 1 Israeli airstrike accidentally killed seven aid workers from World Central Kitchen, and a crisis erupted in US-Israeli relations.

Biden issued an ultimatum to Netanyahu: Protect Palestinian civilians and foreign aid workers in Gaza, or Washington could rein in support for Israel in its war against Hamas.

Netanyahu relented, and three weeks later, so did Biden as he signed a bill that Congress passed that included $14 billion in emergency military aid to Israel.

Biden didn’t have much choice because, on April 13, the existential threat to Israel peaked. That night, Iran launched a barrage of 310 missiles, some of the ballistic at targets across Israel in retaliation for an Israeli attack on Iran’s embassy in Damascus that killed two Iranian generals.

In the first of two truly bright spots in this yearlong war, the Biden administration deserves credit for hastily assembling a regional military coalition that included several Arab nations to repel Iran’s salvo , even if a primary US goal was to put a stranglehold on Israeli retaliation. The coalition’s combined forces shot down most of the rockets Iran fired before they could land in Israel.

Biden’s change of heart was short-lived.

As the IDF surrounded Rafah on the Gaza-Egyptian border in early May, Biden told CNN that an Israeli invasion of Rafah would be a red line that would lead him to pause providing Israel with the weapons and ammunition it would need for that invasion.

In June, the administration briefly withheld the military resupply, prompting Senator Tom Cotton (R–AR) to pen a sharp letter to Biden accusing the administration of “blatantly disregard of Congress’s bipartisan mandate to supply Israel with all it needs to defeat the Hamas terrorists and other Iranian-backed groups” and of “playing politics with the nation’s honor and our ally’s security.”

A Simmering Summer of Escalation

July–September 2024

Until now, American pressure was focused on stopping Israel from dealing Hamas a decisive blow and ensuring the flow of humanitarian aid. In July, in what smacks of meddling in Israel’s internal affairs, State Department spokesman Matt Miller announced financial sanctions on Jewish residents of Judea and Samaria, including freezing the bank accounts of dual citizens accused of violence against Palestinians.

It seemed petty, considering that Israel has police and a court system to deal with lawbreakers and that the US financial sanctions didn’t touch on the Palestinian Authority’s ongoing “pay for slay” program that shells out stipends to families of Palestinian terrorists in violation of US law.

Yet the US maintained its big-picture support in hopes of deterring a catastrophic regional war. By rushing battleship groups to the Middle East in August in response to threats of Iranian and Hezbollah retaliation for the targeted assassinations of Fuad Sukhr, a senior Hezbollah commander, and Hamas’s Ismail Haniyeh.

US deterrence proved to be short-lived as Hezbollah retaliated for the staggering “beeper attack” attributed to Israel on thousands of Hezbollah operatives by bombarding Israel’s north and firing missiles as far away as Tel Aviv. While America did not demand a halt to Israeli counter-retaliation, administration officials continue to insist on a diplomatic solution, as if Hezbollah could be trusted to keep its end of the deal.

Overall, the Biden administration has played the same tune as so many US administrations that preceded it. Support Israel, but in an “evenhanded” fashion so that it also keeps on good terms with Arab and Muslim nations.

From America’s vantage point, this makes political sense, but the consequences are often very painful for Israel, one small nation under military attack on seven fronts and facing assaults on its legitimacy in the UN and international courts. US vacillation over the way it alternately supports and disparages Israel in the name of evenhandedness often sends the wrong signals to Israel’s enemies and causes other allies to lose confidence in the US.

The year 5784 was traumatic for Israel and Jews worldwide, facing a rising tide of anti-Semitism in the streets and on college campuses.

As the leader of the free world, the next administration could usher in a better 5785 if it returns to its American roots of vigorously defending allies, respecting their unique demographics and style of democracy, and acknowledging that the way to deal with evil is to conquer it and not capitulate to it.

Bibi’s Renaissance 

Avi Blum, Esq.

How did Netanyahu manage to lose everything and still survive?  When the entire system was still reeling, not unlike the Hezbollah terrorists in Lebanon today, Bibi seized control of the narrative on the right.

Before October 7

I thought Bibi was on borrowed time.

Since October 7

It looks like he’s here to stay

A

historian’s son, Bibi Netanyahu has always wanted to go down in Jewish history as the protector of Israel.

But toward the end of his long career, after bypassing Ben Gurion as Israel’s longest serving prime minister, Israel’s “Mr. Security” lost his biggest asset at the start of 5784.

It’s would be wrong to think of the October 7 massacre, the worst in the nation’s history since the Holocaust, in terms of one man. But Netanyahu, who seemed to be working on borrowed time after the massacre, has now proven he’s here to stay.

His biggest rival, Benny Gantz, who in public opinion polls in the months after the massacre hit 40 seats and overtook Netanyahu as preferred prime minister, has been fading week after week in the opposition.

Netanyahu himself, who began the decade with five election campaigns in three years due to the personal boycotts against him, has regained his stride at the end of this year, with a fallback plan that would allow him to at least serve out the remainder of his current term, which ends in 2026. At any moment, he could parachute Gideon Saar into the defense minister’s office on the 14^th floor of the IDF headquarters in Tel Aviv, expanding his government’s base and depriving his extremist allies on the right of their kingmaking status. And it’s all the more impressive given that Gideon Saar, like Avigdor Lieberman, placed a bounty on Netanyahu’s political head just three years ago. Now, amid a catastrophic war, he once again sees Netanyahu as a legitimate partner.

How did Netanyahu manage to lose everything and still survive? To understand this, we must follow the narrative Netanyahu managed to drive in right-wing circles at the very start of the war. When the entire system was still reeling, not unlike the Hezbollah terrorists in Lebanon today, Bibi seized control of the narrative on the right.

The blame was placed on security officials who refrained from waking the prime minister at two o’clock in the morning on October 7, and who had supported calls to refuse to report to reserve duty on the part of anti-judicial reform protesters in the year before. Netanyahu created a dichotomy between himself and the establishment, effectively telling the public: Those longtime members of the security establishment who led the “conceptzia” misled statesmen such as myself. But unlike them, I’ve learned from the mistake.

Netanyahu’s insistence on conducting the war, maintaining control of the Philadelphi and Netzarim routes, and preventing Gazans returning to the north of the strip, despite American pressure and veiled threats, must also be seen through this lens. Every condemnation from the American administration only strengthens his grip on the right-wing base, as the lone figure capable of standing up to a world power.

When you add to this the strikes on the port of Hodeidah, the assassination of Hamas leader Ismail Haniyeh in Tehran (by Norway, if you were wondering) the elimination of Hezbollah chief of staff Fuad Shukr in Lebanon, and the piecemeal elimination of almost all of Hamas’s leadership (with the notable exception of Sinwar), plus the ingenious “beeper operation” in Lebanon (which was carried out by Micronesia, of course) one realizes that despite a tough start, the prime minister ended the year with a pretty good run of luck.

Just as the Americans can’t seem to understand that their pressure on Netanyahu only boosts him in Israeli public opinion, neither can the leaders of the protest movement in Israel. The mass protests orchestrated by former leaders of the anti-judicial reform protest only serve to remind the right of the public calls to refuse to report for reserve duty on the eve of the war, thus reinforcing the narrative that it was the protest movement that indirectly led to Hamas’s surprise attack.

From afar, all of Israel seems to be at war, but Tel Aviv, for example, the city where these lines were written, has hardly had any sirens in many months, except for the drone. My hometown of Rehovot, which saw three consecutive hours of missile impacts on October 7, hasn’t been hit by a missile in seven months. Despite the ongoing plight of the evacuees, whom we all feel for, there have also been real achievements, especially vis-à-vis Hamas, that can only be seen from inside Israel.

Thus, from an absolute nadir, Netanyahu has managed to win back his base, and a year after the massacre, no one on the right questions his leadership of the bloc. If you hadn’t seen it, you’d never have believed it.

Changing the Narrative

Gil Hoffman

Before October 7

I thought that Israel had a tough time receiving fair treatment from the international media.

Since October 7

I learned that even though it is harder than ever for Israel to receive fair treatment from the international media, there are small successes every day.

Just like the Eskimos have many words for snow, each of which has a different nuance, the Jews have plenty of words for happiness. At our weddings, we sing about our happiness with eight different words for joy. My parents named me Gil, because they were happy to have a son. They only later found out that Gil refers to happiness from good news, which is a good fit for a journalist who served as chief political correspondent and analyst for the Jerusalem Post for nearly a quarter century.

My middle name, Yaakov — which in modern Hebrew loosely means “he will monitor” — gained more significance two years ago, when I was given the opportunity to help lead the fight for truth on the media battlefield as executive director and editor of the pro-Israel media monitoring watchdog HonestReporting — a role that has become even more important over the past year.

Over the 17 years that Hamas has ruled Gaza, it had become the ultimate entrenched terror fortress, yet due in part to media pressure from world leaders, previous conflicts in Gaza lasted only a few days or weeks, temporarily hurting but not neutralizing the terror infrastructure. One of the reasons this war has been able to last a year and focus on its goals is that the international media has been constantly called out, questioned, and corrected.

For instance, when the media reported incorrectly that 500 people were killed by Israel at Gaza City’s Al-Ahli Hospital on October 17, the IDF provided relatively quick evidence to prove that it was an errant rocket fired by Islamic Jihad and that the casualty numbers were less than a tenth of what the media had received from Hamas. The media looked foolish for taking Hamas’s word as the ultimate truth.

But the report that I believe was most transformative came on November 8, a month after the Hamas’s deadly massacre. That was when HonestReporting published its “Broken Borders” expose questioning how Gazan photographers, freelancers for top media outlets, arrived in Israel so early on October 7 in order to take the first pictures of the invasion and show them to the world.

We asked whether these journalists had been tipped off or embedded by Hamas to come early enough to photograph the infiltration for Reuters, the Associated Press, CNN and the New York Times.

The answers came soon after, as a photo surfaced of AP and CNN photographer Hassan Eslaiah being kissed by Hamas leader Yahya Sinwar. We caught Reuters and AP photographer Muhammad Fayq Abu Mustafa’s October 7 broadcast on Instagram Live in which he begged his fellow Gazans to follow him into Israel to join the spree of murders, kidnappings and and other unspeakable atrocities.

Not too long after, it was revealed that Hamas’s Jericho Wall plan — the blueprint for October 7 — had called for taking advantage of journalists to get the terrorist organization’s message out to the world.

Reuters published pictures from two photojournalists who also happened to be at the border just in time for Hamas’ infiltration: Muhammad Fayq Abu Mustafa and Yasser Qudih. They both took pictures of a burning Israeli tank on the Israeli side of the border, but Abu Mustafa went further: He took photos of a lynch mob brutalizing the body of an Israeli soldier who was dragged out of the tank.

Reuters was kind enough to add a graphic warning to the photo caption, but it didn’t prevent editors from shamelessly labeling it as one of the “Images of the Day” on their editorial database.

To their credit, when Reuters received the Pulitzer Prize for international photography, it did not submit any pictures from October 7 in its bid. The wire service told Pulitzer officials that the reason  was that HonestReporting had questioned the physical and ethical borders crossed that day.

HonestReporting’s story made people around the world question the reporting coming from Gazans working for top media outlets. While the international media continued to parrot false “official” numbers from Hamas, readers and viewers became more skeptical of trusting what they were reading and seeing.

The “Broken Borders” story made waves around the world and led to three journalists being fired. A group of 14 US state attorneys general gave warning to the heads of CNN, the New York Times, Reuters, and AP, to better vet their freelancers lest they fall foul of laws against providing material support to terrorist organizations like Hamas. Still, there were other media outlets that defended their photographers and accused HonestReporting of endangering them by highlighting their infiltration.

During this past year, we’ve witnessed how some mainstream media have broken all previous records of anti-Israel bias. Even the Wall Street Journal, which has a reputation for being pro-Israel because of its editorials, has had some problematic news reporting. For example, headlines in the WSJ joined those by media outlets around the world reporting Hamas’s false claims that Israel bombed the Al-Ahli Hospital “killing more than 500,” falsely blaming Israel for the closing of the Rafah crossing, and calling assassinated Hamas head Ismail Haniyeh a “cease-fire advocate.”

But the low point for the WSJ’s Israel coverage came two weeks ago, when HonestReporting exclusively reported how their Gazan reporter Abeer Ayyoub used her X (formerly Twitter) account to spread terrorist propaganda and fake news. On October 7, Ayyoub replied to X owner Elon Musk’s solidarity post with Israel, in which he expressed hope for peace, with an unprintable expletive. That same day, she posted a violent propaganda video, produced by Hamas’s armed wing, showing terrorists lynching and executing Israeli soldiers near the Gaza border.

Top media outlets, including the New York Times and CNN, immediately fired, suspended, or reassigned journalists whose anti-Semitism and terror ties were revealed by HonestReporting — 12 of them in the last two years. But Ayyoub has faced no consequences from the WSJ.

That so many people around the world have become more skeptical of the international media is one reason I feel so blessed to have the opportunity to lead our team at such an important and sensitive time for the Jewish state and the Jewish People. I pray that, thanks in part to everyone who has joined the fight for Israel in the international mainstream and social media, there will, b’ezras Hashem, be greater security and happiness ahead.

Gil Hoffman is the executive director and executive editor of the Jerusalem-based, pro-Israel watchdog HonestReporting and a columnist for the New York Post and Jerusalem Post.

October 8 Jews

Fully Eisenberger

There is an acute sense of lonliness and isolation as many of their non-Jewish “friends” have exposed their true feelings

Before October 7

Campus kiruv was always an uphill battle against disconnect.

Since October 7

Jewish apathy is a thing of the past

There’s talk of “October 8 Jews,” those whose lives changed after the Hamas attacks. And as a campus kiruv rabbi at the University of Michigan, I’m one of them — because ever since, my job has been a whole lot busier. An entire generation of Jewish students is far more open to exploring their Jewish identity, and anyone on campus is on the front line of that wave.

All day, I sit in the university’s Stephen M. Ross Business School, as I’ve done for years as head of the JRC, a full-service kiruv operation. There’s a huge amount of foot traffic as hundreds of students make their way to classes. The state’s flagship university is home to almost 50,000 students, approximately 8 percent of whom are Jewish, and so many of the passersby are Jewish.

My job is to be there for them. Not in an imposing or even proactive way: I wait for them to approach and then do what I can to answer their questions or share whatever burden they might be carrying.

Over the years, we’ve been quite successful, and many students attend our classes, events, and Shabbos meals, and have gone on to build Torah homes. But I’ll admit that along with the success there has always been a sense of frustration.

“There are so many more Jewish students that we’re missing,” I’d think to myself. “How can we reach them?”

The answer came by way of the worst tragedy the Jewish People have experienced since the Holocaust.

Since the Hamas attack, Jewish students have been harassed and intimidated, and police have arrested dozens of pro-Palestinian demonstrators. In response to the atmosphere, scores of Jewish students, once ashamed to openly express their Jewishness, are now wearing necklaces sporting the Chai symbol or a Magen David. They are now unashamed to approach me.

On the contrary, in a sense they need it — there is an acute sense of lonliness and isolation as many of their non-Jewish “friends” have exposed their true feelings. The number of students joining our programs has increased tremendously.

Ali Kraft, granddaughter of the well-known philanthropist Robert Kraft, is a frequent attendee of our programs. Ever since October 7, she told me, she has shut off her phone before Shabbos, not to turn on for an entire 25 hours. She hasn’t missed a week.

I now have a problem that I never dreamed of: In some cases, demand is outstripping supply. Take Tefillin: I have some 15 pairs on hand in case a student would commit to putting them on daily. It wasn’t overly common for me to give one out because it takes time for someone to reach that level of commitment.

But now, my supply is completely depleted. All 15 have been taken. I need more tefillin! And just recently, a girl told me that she got her mom and sister to keep kosher. These are just a few of many such examples. And our experience is far from unique — anyone active in campus kiruv now recognizes that we’ve moved into a new reality.

October 7 was a horrific tragedy, whose aftershocks are not over. But we can find comfort in that, for all the neshamos we lost, in response so many more are being found.

Rabbi Fully (Raphael) Eisenberger is director of the Olami-affiliate Jewish Resource Center, a kiruv program at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor.

Contact Lenses

Yisroel Besser

It is inevitable that, since October 7, someone will approach and whisper “Am Yisrael Chai,” letting me know that he and I are one.

Before October 7

I thought that maybe we’re okay being here, after all.

Since October 7

I learned that we’re not okay being here, but we’re very okay being us.

The year everything changed. But really, the year nothing changed.

If a person with poor vision finally gets a pair of glasses, then he might feel like the world changed: Suddenly, he can see a lush green landscape brushed by rays of golden sun, but really, it’s the same world as before — only now, he can see it clearly.

This is not the year the world changed. It’s the year in which the words of prophets of old and the whispered messages from the grandparents who still had heavy European accents came to life.

They saw something we couldn’t see.

They, who, as children, had been betrayed by friendly Polish neighbors with whom they had played weeks earlier, were convinced the world we knew was the irregularity, running counter to the algorithm thousands of years old.

We said, “Shhh, you’ll frighten the kinderlach. But your memories of Auschwitz really are so important to us, please do share them on the Seder Nacht.”

We looked at the short list of Nobel Prize nominees and did the math with pride: way disproportionate, right? We patted ourselves on the back when a guy in a yarmulke sang the national anthem before the big game, and — massive kiddush Hashem alert! — you can get glatt kosher hot dogs at Yankee Stadium and Camden Yards, and choose between Sefard and Ashkenaz minyan for Maariv.

The words of Chazal that refer to the sheep surrounded by wolves, that tell of the animosity and revulsion harbored in the hearts of those who smile and shake hands, were true, of course, but not here. Not here.

This year, we got a different sort of vision, new lenses allowing us to see a bit more clearly.

It became pretty obvious what they think about us — in the halls of power, in the halls of academia, and even in the halls of commerce. Turns out that the zeides and the bubbes who smiled and shepped nachas but never really looked convinced that we were home were onto something.

That was one pair of new glasses, courtesy of 5784.

But there was another one.

We knew, of course, that Chazal teach that all of Klal Yisrael has one neshamah, Yidden bound to one another, and it made for great song lyrics. This year, it was our existence.

Due to the realities of my life, I spend a lot of time in airports, and often, depending on the calendar and season, it means davening there. (Note to my father, zohl zein gezunt: I know that technically the four-hour stopover in Zurich is more than enough time to make it to shul, chap arein a mikveh, coffee, and daven calmly and still make it back with plenty of time for the flight, but I don’t have your nerves — or your yiras Shamayim, for that matter.)

In the past, the sight of a minyan near the store that sells neck-pillows (and overpriced headphones that you will only find out doesn’t fit your phone once you’re on board), or of a gently swaying tallis-enveloped figure, evoked mild interest at most.

Now, it evokes emotion.

Sure, there has been undisguised hate, but there has been so much more of the opposite as well: It is inevitable that, since October 7, someone will approach and whisper “Am Yisrael Chai,” letting me know that he and I are one.

If there is an “amen” to be said, people will come forward from the nearby gates — some prodded by encouraging looks from spouses — to “join in!” It’s a single word, but they invest it with such passion and heart, sensing that their whole identity lies within those two syllables.

They shout “amen,” but they mean, “This is who I am, this is what my parents left me, and if I have to choose between my carefully chosen knit polo, straight-leg jeans and Blundstone boots and this, I will choose this.”

Aval, they are saying, anachnu amcha, bnei brisecha, bnei Avraham ohavcha.

Twelve months ago, I didn’t see that coming. But twelve months ago, who could see?

Open the Trunk

Yedidya Meir

“Hamas attacked us because we’re Jews. What does it even mean to be Jewish? So I went to the closet and I took out the tefillin, and I want to put them on again, but I don’t know how”

Before October 7

I thought that there were dati’im and chilonim in this country, and a very long and complicated bridge between them.

Since October 7

I learned that there is a strong beating Jewish heart just waiting to be ignited.

ITalways happens to me with Jews from abroad. They are so caring and so connected to the Land, and they always tell me how they consume the news in order to feel the pulse in Eretz Yisrael. But then I hear what their sources of information are, and I worry: They’re sitting in Monsey or in Boca Raton and their heart is in the Holy Land, but the reports they receive are often negative, sad, ominous and most importantly — lacking emunah.

I’m not claiming that the situation in Israel is perfect — we’re going through one of our country’s most challenging times. But an innocent Jew who doesn’t understand the media’s map of interests might think that society as a whole is collapsing and that there’s a veritable civil war brewing regarding Judaism and the character of the country.

I want to share about one moment, one of many hundreds of moments this past year, that made me realize that this is simply not true. Perhaps the bold headlines are shouting about the fights between the secular and the chareidim, but very quietly, there’s a spiritual revolution going on under the radar. It’s not being filmed, it has no spokesperson, no organization, and no demonstrations. But if we connect the dots, we’ll discover that amid all that the noise, Am Yisrael is returning to its Creator.

At the beginning of the war, I received a voice message from a ZAKA member who was dealing with the grisliest of work that defies the imagination. He told me that one morning, between shifts, he stopped at a gas station. An elderly secular Jew approached him and asked for help. The ZAKA fellow, still in uniform, was sure it was something relating to a medical emergency, but instead, the man called him over to his car, opened the trunk, and showed him a pair of tefillin.

“Can you teach me how to put these on?”

It’s hard to surprise a ZAKA member whose seen everything, but he was surprised, as the other man continued: “These are the tefillin from my bar mitzvah. My father was a Holocaust survivor. It was very important to him that I put on tefillin, so I did it, around the time of my bar mitzvah, but then I stopped. But what happened now made me think… Hamas attacked us because we’re Jews. What does it even mean to be Jewish? So I went to the closet and I took out the tefillin, and I want to put them on again, but I don’t know how. I figured I’d put them in my trunk until I’d meet someone who could teach me. I’ve been driving around with them for a few days already — I thought of going into a beit knesset and ask for help, but I was embarrassed. And now I saw you with your ZAKA vest and decided that someone who’s been in the hardest of places, who’s dealing with the gruesome aftermath of what awakened me, should teach me to put on tefillin.”

Since then, I’ve collected countless stories from all types of Jews who have come to understand that national secularity is not enough. “We need roots, we need halachah, we need a genuine connection to G-d,” they’re calling out. “He is the primary Partner in the story, more than any politician or army commander.”

For the last year, we’ve seen what I call the “tefillin in the trunk” phenomenon. My wife, Sivan [media personality Sivan Rahav-Meir], and I have attended the Kesher Yehudi shabbatonim with the survivors of the Nova festival who began to keep Shabbos. We’ve spent weekends with families of hostages who have called on all of us to strengthen ourselves in mitzvos, with Jews from abroad on their very first trip, after something inside awakened.

The media won’t tell you about it. The daily grist coming out of the Cabinet, the White House, and Qatar get far more coverage. But beneath the surface, Am Yisrael is waking up. Not only here, among the secular Israelis, but also among you — perhaps your own neighbors across the street. Maybe they have Shabbos candles in the trunk, and they’re just waiting for your invitation…

Yedidya Meir is an Orthodox Israeli journalist, satirist, political commentator and popular morning radio show host.

Uncertainty was an Illusion

Elisha Bruck

There was a fear that aliyah as we knew it would cease, or at best, be put on hold for the foreseeable future. After all, who would want to move to a country at war?

Before October 7

I thought that Klal Yisrael had a strong connection to Eretz Yisrael.

Since October 7

I learned that the connection is ironclad and unshakeable.

Like many others celebrating Yom Tov in Yerushalayim, the first sirens on Simchas Torah caught us in the midst of hakafos. Shocked and concerned, we weren’t sure what was happening or how to proceed.

Although we heard the sirens throughout the day, we had no idea what was truly unfolding, nor did we realize that the world as we knew it would never be the same again. It was only after Yom Tov that we began to grasp the impact of the horrors that had transpired, and it took several weeks to properly evaluate the new situation and pivot our resources to offer support and assistance to those affected.

For over 20 years, Nefesh B’Nefesh has guided more than 80,000 olim through various challenges, ranging from geopolitical unrest and military conflicts to the global chaos and lockdowns of the coronavirus pandemic. Yet the days following Simchas Torah felt different — marked by an overwhelming sense of uncertainty. As the days passed, the gravity of the tragedy became clearer, and with it, the realization that things would be different.

Despite the government’s official stance that aliyah would continue and the gates would stay open, there was a fear that aliyah as we knew it would cease, or at best, be put on hold for the foreseeable future. After all, who would want to move to a country at war?

Given that one of the primary services we offer through our “It’s Shayach” program is consultation on schools and communities for frum families making aliyah, we needed to determine which families, if any, still intended to proceed with their aliyah plans.

Despite the uncertainty of how to handle this new reality, we pooled together and began reaching out to families who had submitted an aliyah application right after Simchas Torah or had expressed interest prior to October 7.

The response was swift and astonishing: Family after family reaffirmed their commitment to moving forward with their aliyah plans. When asked about their concerns and worries regarding the situation, they acknowledged their apprehensions but expressed a resolute desire to proceed. Some even expressed that what happened on Simchas Torah had only strengthened their commitment and reinforced their resolve to move to Eretz Yisrael.

I remember the conversation I had with the first family I called, who had actually submitted a new aliyah application in the middle of October. I was not sure what to make of it — were they indeed applying for aliyah in the near future, or              were they perhaps applying for a few years out (which is not uncommon)? After all we were still in the first days after October 7, when the shock and uncertainty where at its peak.

On the other end of the line was a mother from the Five Towns, with five children ranging from four to 17, and very proud and confident of her decision to make aliyah. When I asked how she felt about the situation, and if she was concerned about safety and security, her response was both surprising and inspiring: “We actually spent Succos in Israel and lived through everything that was going on. We were there for the sirens, the fear, the chaos and uncertainty, and that’s when we decided to decide to make aliyah. We feel now even more connected to Eretz Yisrael and that it’s where we belong, it’s where we want to be.”

It was this and similar conversation that made me realize there is something deeper going on, something that I might have missed. It began to dawn on me that I’d never fully grasped the depth of Klal Yisrael’s connection to Eretz Yisrael. Despite long years of separation from our homeland, the love and yearning to live in Eretz Yisrael are alive and strong. The dream that every Jew carries — to one day call Eretz Yisrael home — runs deeper than political considerations or practical rewards like affordable tuition and health care. It’s not about the free flight or aliyah benefits; it’s about a profound appreciation and genuine bond with Eretz Yisrael that is unwavering in the face of hardship and uncertainty.

Now, nearly a year later, with over 14,000 new applications submitted (a 76 percent increase compared to the same period last year) and double the number of frum olim, what was initially feared to be a serious regression has in fact blossomed into a year of tremendous growth and expansion — confirming our new perspective and appreciation of Klal Yisrael’s overarching desire to settle in Eretz Yisrael.

Elisha Bruck is aliyah advisor at Nefesh B’Nefesh.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1031)