Zehu Ze was one of the first shows back on during the war, I remember how the first episodes back on sensitively dealt with the situation, hosting evacuated children from the Gaza envelope, with skits that were less satirical than usual, and of course, the songs. The songs have become the heart of the show, with touching musical interpretations that always feel like the perfect choice. The first episode back ended with a moving version of 'Darkenu', with the lyrics, "It's not easy, our path is not easy/and your eyes sometimes are so sad/More blossoming fields are before us/More high mountains with cool summits". Since then the skits have become much more satirical, though reality always seems to be giving a good fight, and the song choices have become a soundtrack to this heartbreaking war. Earlier this week Eviatar Banai joined the group for "Night as the Day Does Shine", so fitting for Hanukka and a few minutes of comfort during these cold dark days.
After a nerve-racking few days since the hostage deal was first announced, we finally saw the first group of 13 Israelis released. 10 Thai nationals and 1 national from the Philippines were also released yesterday in a separate deal. We were so anxious about the deal and whether it would go through as planned, I can't even begin to imagine what it is like for the families of the hostages, many of whom don't know yet if their loved ones will be included in the groups being released in the next few days. When I saw the images of the released hostages together with my family we were overjoyed with emotion, though I have to admit that we were hoping to see little Abigail Mor Edan, whose parents were murdered by Hamas militants and just turned 4 yesterday, as well as Shiri Bibas and her two sons, Ariel, 4 years old, and little Kfir, just 10 months old. There are 40 hostages under the age of 18 and 4 were released yesterday. It is not guaranteed that the rest are among the remaining 37 to be released since not all are held by Hamas, the Palestinian Islamic Jihad terror group is said to be holding hostages as well.
Overall 50 women and children will be released, and while we are overjoyed to see Israelis finally back home, our thoughts are with the hundreds who will not be released yet. Yesterday Keren Munder was released with her 9-year-old son Ohad and her mother Ruth Munder, but her father Abraham Munder, 78, was left behind in Gaza, hopefully a temporary situation. I am looking at the faces and names of the hostages, there are so many who have entered my heart after hearing their stories from their loved ones, among them: Noa Armagani, 26, Yarden Bibas, 34, Amiram Cooper, 84, Carmel Gat, 39, Romi Gonen, 23, Yotam Haim, 28, Hersh Goldberg Polin, 23, Guy Illouz, 26, Ofer Kalderon, 53, Oded Lifshitz, 83, Alon Ohel, 22, Chaim Peri, 79, and Mia Schem, 21. No one must be left behind.
I was moved to tears by Koolulam's version of Madonna's Like a Prayer, with the participation of the families of the hostages together with thousands of people from more than 100 locations around the world, in a moving show of support. As Yoni Asher, who was reunited yesterday with his wife Doron and his two children, Raz, 4, and Aviv, 2, said: "I am happy that I got my family back... but I don't celebrate. I won't celebrate until the last of the hostages returns."
And everything remains the same and I'm the same idiot
You lied because it's now after Sukkot
And if you were right, then why do I feel like crying?
This world stinks from New York to Rafah
Wherever you go, you'll always find an enemy
These are homeland birth pangs, and I want to leave
Whether black or white, we'll all die racists
You told me that I'm the best and that I have no competitors
And that we are both in love
You told me that everything is great
And that this is a beautiful time, but it's a time in life
So how come yesterday you didn't pay attention to me
And you didn't care what was happening to me?
And how come? Sometimes you understand
And sometimes you're a bitch, a bit of an unclear girl
Oy! And you make this world stink so much
From New York to Rafah
Wherever you go, you'll always find an enemy
These are homeland birth pangs, and I want to leave
Whether black or white, we'll all die racists
This world stinks from New York to Rafah
Wherever you go, you'll always find an enemy
These are homeland birth pangs... I want to leave
Whether black or white, we'll all die racists
The only music I've been able to listen to since October 7th is the music on Can 88, sensitively curated for a traumatized country. The Israeli songs they're playing these days are usually soothing songs from a distant past, like the beautiful 'Ein Gedi' which I heard while taking the underground light rail home from work, the only public place where I allow myself to use my headphones. Through Can 88's Facebook page I came across Yuval Mendelson's performance of 'New York - Rafah', which he wrote 22 years ago and is sadly still so relevant today. Maybe not as soothing as Yehudit Ravitz, but it was exactly what I needed to hear, for so many reasons.
I checked out Mendelson's page and came across a heartwarming performance of 'Intercom' (this time from 19 years ago), which he performed for displaced residents from the North, evacuated due to the tense situation by the northern border. Ever since the war began, Israeli musicians have been performing for injured massacre survivors, for displaced residents, and for soldiers about to risk their lives. This Friday is Bandcamp Friday and there's been an initiative to give back to Israeli musicians who have been volunteering day after day while facing economic insecurity. If you're into EDM please check out the #BringThemBack compilations, all proceeds will be donated to aid survivors of the Supernova massacre, from mental health care to support in bringing the hostages back home.
Tomorrow will be better ♥
It's raining outside and it's a sad winter for me
A big hat just so they won't see it's me
Young girls who haven't finished high school yet
And there are a hundred thousand people here but I will always be the last
I'd offer you a ride but I don't have a driver's license
And maybe tomorrow will be better you'll see
Tomorrow will be better for me
And if you hear my song then know that it's me
Tomorrow will be okay, you'll see
Tomorrow will be okay for me
And if you're passing by my street, call me on the intercom
And then I'll get up and open the door for you.
A cute blonde is sitting at the bar and pinching her nose
One pinch from her and soon I'm out the door
I thought maybe I'll approach her and we'll start to talk
I'll order a drink for her but until I'll have the courage
The blonde and I will wait
I'd invite her to listen to records
But I live with my parents
So maybe tomorrow will be better you'll see
Tomorrow will be better for me
And if you hear my song then know that it's me
Tomorrow will be okay, you'll see
Tomorrow will be okay for me
And if you're passing by my street, call me on the intercom
Last Saturday I woke up to sirens at around 6:30 in the morning and rushed to the building shelter. Here we go again, I thought, preparing myself for another round of fighting until there was a ceasefire. But it quickly became clear that there would be no ceasefire in the near future. I turned on the news and was shocked by the images of Hamas terrorists in the streets of Sderot and Ofakim - how did they get there? And where was the army?? The news reporters seemed just as shocked and confused as it slowly became clear that Hamas was taking control of several Kibbutzim in the Gaza envelope. I will never forget when the news reporter took a breath and said that there were 22 dead, among them civilians. At the time, a few hours after the attack, the number felt incredibly high and although they said that the number of casualties would rise, I don't think anyone imagined that it would reach 1,300 and still counting. I learned that there were very graphic videos going around of kidnapped soldiers and civilians but I refused to watch them, not sure what was real and what wasn't, it all felt too surreal. When I met my neighbors at the bomb shelter again in the evening, I realized that this was the darkest day in Israel's history and nothing would ever be the same.
The following days were a blur, on Sunday my social media feed was flooded with countless images of murdered or missing kibbutz residents and young people who had attended the Supernova rave turned massacre, their friends and relatives frantically searching for any information. On Monday the obituaries started and haven't stopped, too many of my friends know people who were murdered. In the next few days, the extent of the massacres in the kibbutzim became clear, Be'eri lost 10% of its population, 108 people, including children and infants. Yesterday was spent reading moving accounts of survivors and unexpected heroes. If you are able to access it, please take the time to read Nir Gontarz's account of how his 23-year-old son survived the Supernova rave massacre, and was eventually rescued by retired major-general Yair Golan, just one of many rescues made by Golan last Saturday. In an ideal world Golan, a former Meretz MK, would be in the cabinet making decisions that will affect our country's future, instead of those who are currently in government and barely governing.
I had always found Full Trunk's hit 'As a stone' to be very soothing, a song to help you calm down. I saw the song in a new light after Gal Nisman explained its meaning in an episode of 'One Song' a few years ago. While it's purposely not stated clearly, the lyrics are about Nisman's struggles with PTSD, which he became aware of during a round of rocket attacks by his home in the Gaza envelope. Nisman said that the song was about his healing process from the moment he lost his close friend during a military operation in Gaza. After a lot of work, he was able to go back to being himself, though of course not the same as he was before. Nisman, who still resides in the Gaza envelope, shared on his Instagram a few days ago "...They murdered here, body and soul, an entire community of friends, families and acquaintances, desecrated the women and children, kidnapped, slaughtered and burned everything that breathed, and looted everything they could." Nisman thanked the security forces and the kitot konenut (volunteer defense forces made up of kibbutz residents) who 'are fighting with insane bravery and ferocity against these subhuman monsters'.
Stay safe Gal, and thank you for sharing your beautiful music with us.
Slowly I'm facing all the things I left behind.
All, all I ever tried was just to find a way to ease my mind.
I had a feeling I might make an appearance here again, especially if current events here were being covered extensively in the international press, but I never imagined it would be under these circumstances when the country is (still) under the threat of leaving democracy.
I published my last post before the November 1 elections, but it was already clear that either we were going into another election cycle or Netanyahu's camp would win, probably by a slim majority. I voted for Meretz yet again, quite reluctantly to be honest, and hoped for the best. The right's landslide victory caught me off-guard but wasn't too surprising - not just Netanyahu's Likud victory (32 seats) but also the meteoric rise of the Religious Zionist party (14 seats), not to mention the Orthodox parties' very high showing (17 together for both Shas and United Torah Judaism).
On the left, the situation was catastrophic and felt like the result of every possible mistake. After much debate, Meretz and Labour decided to run separately, which resulted in Labour's poor showing of 4 seats and Meretz's elimination from the Knesset. Mathematically, the numbers between both camps were almost equal, we just didn't play the game right, mainly due to inflated egos. After I had gone through my five stages of grief, which included a lot of crying and macaroni and cheese, I decided that maybe it was for the best. This was indeed Netanyahu's most right-wing government yet, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad? Maybe after years of election turmoil, we needed to give the stage to one side. Maybe with fewer ideological disagreements, Netanyahu's far-right government would provide some stability and quiet for the next four years, and we could finally get on with our lives, even if it wasn't the government I voted for.
All of this wishful thinking disappeared on January 4th, when Yariv Levin, the newly appointed Justice Minister, presented his extreme judicial overhaul with a calm demeanor and a chilling tone noting that this was just the 'first phase'. A short overview of the proposed plans is presented here.
It's important to mention that while for most of the left-leaning public, these judicial suggestions for reform seemed to have come out of thin air (and very conveniently while Netanyahu is standing trial), there has been discontent for quite some time on the right that Former Supreme Court President Aharon Barak's sweeping judicial changes in the 90s gave too much power to the judicial court. However, this was certainly not part of Netanyahu's campaign and from many conversations with right-leaning friends and family members, they believe that while a change is certainly needed to 'correct' the current situation, most agree that the proposed plan is too extreme and will give far too much power to the coalition. But not everyone wanted to take part in a nuanced debate. Some wanted to stand by Netanyahu no matter what, while others demanded an urgent stop of any legislation and to go back to the previous situation, which they were completely okay with. The swelling anti-protest movement rose from the latter camp.
As a secular woman, I am a minority in the current coalition. The suggested judicial overhaul means that I will no longer be able to rely on the Supreme Court to protect my rights and I will be completely dependent on the coalition majority. And yet, for a long time, I supported the protests from afar. The protests always seemed too loud and crowded for me, and I didn't think it would make such a difference if I was there or not. When there were protests on work days, I was considerate of coworkers who took the day off or took a break to join the mid-day protests at Azrieli, but I tried to work as usual. There was also a point when I thought there was room for compromise, which was being thwarted by the opposition's demand to completely halt the legislation. Surely there would be a true 'softening' of the legislation and not the minor one proposed by the coalition, right?
But last Saturday something changed. As we were heading into the final week of rulings before the Knesset break, I really had no idea what the country would look like by the end of the week. Netanyahu had made it clear in his speech on Thursday night that he would go forward with the second and third readings, making any changes irreversible, and this was enough to get me out of the house and join my mom, aunt, and sister in Kaplan. I mainly went to feel less alone, and also less hopeless, as I heard the speeches made by Yuval Noah Harari and Tzipi Livni, and sang 'Hatikva', the Israeli anthem, with the rest of the crowd, estimated to be the largest turnout since the protests began. While we were there, we received a notification that Yoav Gallant, the defense minister, had called for a pause in the legislation, citing security concerns. This was soon followed by a notification saying that Itamar Ben-Gvir called for Gallant to be fired. 'Yeah right, as if that will happen' I thought. Netanyahu might publically scold Gallant, but he would never fire him, given the delicate security situation we're in. But less than 24 hours later, he sent shockwaves throughout the country when he did fire him, leading to an eruption of spontaneous protests, with thousands of demonstrators taking over the main Ayalon highway for most of the night. By the next day, it was clear that there was a shift and something had changed. Strikes were announced and it felt like the whole country was shutting down. I went with friends to the daytime protests at Kaplan, and there was a constant gathering of demonstrators carrying Israeli flags, who all stopped by for a while with no clear end in sight. In the evening, Netanyahu gave his long-delayed speech, making sure to praise the right-wing demonstrations in support of the reform and scold the protesters against the reform, going so far as to compare us to the 'bad mother' in Solomon's tale who is willing to tear the country apart. Netanyahu announced a one-month pause in the legislation, and we were left feeling like after a forced ceasefire right in the middle of a military operation.
There's a sense that the gun is already loaded and one small flare-up is enough for the coalition to reconvene and pass the legislation, they just need a few hours and it's done. This is why the protests are continuing, though I assume they will be at a much smaller scale since there is less of a sense of urgency. To make matters more stressful, the pro-reform protestors have gained momentum (with the strong support of the coalition) and while most of the right-wing protesters are non-violent, there is a small but vocal group looking to wreak havoc and cause violence, targeted towards the anti-reform protestors. On Thursday night they chased down a journalist and it's become clear that there is no grown-up in charge to restrain any violence.
For a long time, I've had some trouble with the prominent display of the Israel flag in the weeks leading up to Independence Day. It's been custom for drivers to put a small flag on their windows and for people to put up the flag outside their homes, in addition to the flags set up by the municipalities in the streets. Something about it always made me feel uncomfortable, and it felt like an unneeded show of force. Yes, we are celebrating our rightful independence but do we really need to be so boastful about it? During the anti-Netanyahu protests, the right-wing pro-Netanyahu protestors waved the Israeli flag to show that they are true patriots, as opposed to the black flag movement, and carrying the Israeli flag was seen as a nationalistic image. But this changed completely during the anti-reform protests, in which demonstrators reclaimed the flag. I couldn't help but tear up a bit when I saw the wave of Israeli flags flying defiantly in the wind, despite everything. Carrying the flag became a way to show that this was our country too, and we have every right to fight for it because we really have no other country. This is our messed-up, dysfunctional, and complicated home, but it's ours, and on the eve of our 75th year, we're still working things out.
There is a better quality of this performance by Gali Atari and Korin Elal here, but I love this version, shot by demonstrator Ido Ivry, which really captures the feeling of being in the middle of the protest, surrounded by Israelis of all ages who just want to live in a democratic society.
