Day 390: Iron Swords War

By Leah Garber

I am privileged to have been born and raised in Jerusalem, the eternal capital of Israel and the ancient city of King David. As I wind my way along the timeworn walls of the Old City, I can feel history’s gentle breath upon my shoulders. As I inhale the sweet essence of our ancestral city, I find myself continuously captivated by Jerusalem’s timeless splendor.

Jerusalem is a city that defeats time. While its ancient stones whisper tales of millennia past, it perpetually evolves, reinventing itself. My beloved hometown has shaped the very foundations of my Jewish and Zionist identity, weaving its magic through the fabric of who I am today.

My educational journey led me through one of the city’s oldest educational establishments, the Horev School, a religious, Zionist school that educates students to profoundly love both the land and its people while also fostering a deep commitment to Israel’s prosperity, safety, and security—without compromising our Jewish values or religious observance.

Alongside countless other educational institutions and youth movements across Israel, the Horev School stands as a testament to the fundamental value that meaningful Jewish life in harmony with Torah, Jewish tradition, values, and morality can flourish together with a commitment to gainful employment without dependence on state support, full integration into society, and the pursuit of academic studies.

The corridors of the Horev School typically buzz with the vibrancy of life as students from all corners of the city fill its classrooms, acquiring knowledge and dreaming of the life awaiting them beyond the school walls.

Since the war began, 390 days ago, the Horev School, like far too many other educational institutions, has been shrouded in sorrow. Eleven of its graduates have fallen in battle since the war’s outbreak, heroes who sacrificed their lives for our shared homeland. Seven of these fallen soldiers have been killed in the past two weeks—the bloodiest and most painful period since the beginning of ground operations in Lebanon—leaving behind 56 newly orphaned children who have lost their dads in the last 14 days alone.

In addition to the six soldiers above, Sgt. Maj. (res.) Shaul Moyal and Rabbi Captain (res.) Avraham Yosef Goldberg, both from the same religious Zionist sector mentioned above, also fell in recent days. Shaul was 47 years old, the age at which soldiers are entitled to an exemption from reserve duty. He chose to waive this exemption to serve in combat units, believing it was his civic, Jewish, and moral duty. Shaul left behind 10 children and a loving wife, yet another widow in the growing succession of loss.

Rabbi Avraham Yosef Goldberg had served in reserve duty for 260 days, ever since the October 7, 2023, attack by Hamas. His loving wife, Rachel, joined the growing war widows’ group, and his eight kids are now orphans who, more than anything, will miss their abba’s warm smile and enveloping embrace. Rabbi Goldberg taught at a religious high school for boys in Jerusalem, and some of his children, as fate would have it, study at the same Horev School mentioned earlier. His devotion to Torah and religious commandments never deterred him from serving in the army as a combat soldier. He saw no contradiction between the two paths, but rather a wholeness—an Israeli Jew, a faithful citizen of this land, must defend it, and those who wish to combine this service with Torah study certainly can do so, just as he did. They all did. Far too many casualties among soldiers who cherished and maintained their Torah studies while serving in the army have proven, painfully, that it is doable. We are all familiar with the beautiful pictures of soldiers donning on their tallit and tefillin as they stand alongside their tanks. These are not only pictures; it’s a daily reality.

Twenty-one-year-old Sgt. Yaakov Hillel grew up in a Haredi (ultra-Orthodox) family. His father, Rabbi Chaim Hillel, a respected educator in the Haredi community, sees no contradiction between his son’s life path and that of the rest of his children and family.”Yaakov chose his own path,” says Rabbi Hillel. “He was not raised in the community to join the army, but this was his choice. He was a man of truth, first and foremost, who paved his own righteous and genuine path.” What a noble example of Haredi parents respecting and supporting their son’s decision.

On any typical Jerusalem street, amidst the knitted kipahs that characterize the religious Zionist community members and the black hats typical of the Haredi sector are posters calling on Haredi men to defy the draft on religious grounds and refuse to serve in the military. Within these communities, seven Jerusalem families now mourn beloveds, who paid the ultimate price so that all of us—religious, secular, Haredi, Jews, Druze, and Arabs—may live here. My beloved city weeps for her sons. My bleeding homeland buried 25 combat soldiers this week from all sectors, as well as three civilians killed by Hezbollah rockets—Jews and Arabs alike.

Twenty-two-year-old Ethan Ostrin will be remembered as the first IDF casualty in the ground operation in Lebanon, but to his family and friends, he will be remembered as the most principled, moral, and Zionist young man they ever knew. He would often quote this passage by G.K. Chesterton, a British author, philosopher, and Christian apologist during the late 19th and early 20th centuries, believing it captured the motivation behind his willingness to risk his life: “A true soldier fights not out of hatred toward those who stand before him, but out of love for that which stands behind him.” When asked why he fought, Ethan answered: “Because it is my turn, because I believe this is the only way to ensure the security of that which stands behind me—the State of Israel.”

When I paid a shiva call to Ethan’s family, I found myself surrounded by the remarkable breadth and diversity of the Israeli human tapestry—religious and secular together, standing shoulder to shoulder, all recounting Ethan’s heroism, learning from his values, and cherishing the spiritual and moral wealth he left behind. Ethan grew up in a Religious Zionist community, studied in its educational system, and carried on his back a heavy military backpack filled with essential combat gear as well as a virtual but no less weighty bag containing his religious worldview, his study materials, and his religious observance, which were not diminished in any way by his military service. Rather, they were strengthened by it.

In this war, as in previous ones, secular Israelis fight alongside Bedouins and Druze and Religious Zionists and Haredim, with the latter two groups of soldiers choosing to go against the majority by defying the instructions of their own rabbis. The Haredim who have chosen to enlist, regrettably still a minority, are true heroes, daring to challenge the accepted norm in their communities, sometimes at the risk of excommunication and shunning by their own families. These heroes, in donning IDF uniforms, glorify the kippot on their heads, and through genuine camaraderie, defend us all, even those on the Haredi streets who ostracize them.

In this bloodiest of weeks during the gravest crisis Israel has known since its founding, the soil overflows with new graves dug into it daily and is saturated with the tears of the bereaved. With 101 of us still languishing in Hamas captivity without resolution, it is hard to believe that we have failed to unite as one and that old politics, cloaked in the guise of ideology, continue to guide and direct our elected representatives as they advance laws that fail to unite us, leave political self-interests behind, or recognize this time as critical to our very existence. In this climate, the only law that should pass is one that increases—not decreases—the number of those who serve.

My dear Jerusalem, Jerusalem of Gold, lift up your countenance to shine upon your children. Send comfort to the many mourners and bestow wisdom and integrity upon our leaders.

Together, united, we will overcome.

Leah Garber is a senior vice president of JCC Association of North America and director of its Center for Israel Engagement in Jerusalem.