By Leah Garber
As long as within our hearts
The Jewish soul sings,
As long as forward to the East
To Zion, looks the eye –
Our hope is not yet lost,
It is two thousand years old,
To be a free people in our land
The land of Zion and Jerusalem.
— “Hatikvah” | ”The Hope,” Israel’s national anthem, Naphtali Herz Imber, 1886
There are times when a song wells from within and plucks at the soul’s strings like angels’ poetry.
Last night, together with a crowd of thousands, we gathered in Jerusalem’s city square, near the Supreme Court, and sang the national anthem with full voice, in a burst of emotion, out of faith and with much hope: “Our hope is not yet lost.”
Eastern winds that blew as if it were not autumn, failed to erase our tears. They trickled there, in the city square, blurring our vision, soothing, as if this haze we see through glazed eyes could perhaps be better—for our hope is not yet lost.
Fall’s arrival this year is delayed, hesitant—as if it is pondering whether to continue onward, on the wings of migratory birds to better, more inviting realms. After all, it is not especially enticing to visit a wounded, battered land, a land that for nearly 400 days has been mourning its dead, its soil yet to find rest.
It’s been nearly 400 days since the start of this war, and while we face a significant threat from Iran, the air here feels dense, heavy. It’s so hard to breathe.
For nearly 400 days, 101 of us have been buried alive in Gaza’s darkness. What must they be feeling? Do they feel abandoned and deserted, or do they still cling to a fragment of hope that keeps them going—and for how long?
Four-hundred days of shallow, forced smiles, apologetic laughter have exhausted us. And as if the harsh realities, painful outcomes, and ongoing anxiety aren’t enough, many Israelis also grapple with a growing sense of betrayal by unworthy leaders.
The sudden announcement by Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu that he had dismissed Defense Minister Yoav Gallant in the midst of a fierce war struck us hard. It wounded us, tearing out one more stitch in the fabric that tries so hard to bind us together. This delicate tapestry, striving mightily to preserve itself, is pulled again and again from every direction, unraveling slowly from its core.
It is no secret that Netanyahu and Gallant did not see eye to eye. Their disagreements were evident and known. Nonetheless, Netanyahu’s timing—on the eve of the U.S. presidential election—was no coincidence, hopeful the decision would be overshadowed by U.S. headlines.
Netanyahu’s assembled coalition is closing more tightly around him, dictating his conduct not based on substantive considerations but on narrow political interests—to ensure their political survival.
Sadly, Gallant, who has led the country’s security forces to resounding successes through these difficult months of combat, was the trigger behind Netanyahu’s decision. Most recently, Gallant opposed deals with the ultra-Orthodox parties to legitimize the decree that allows ultra-Orthodox men to avoid military service. Netanyahu, a veteran politician knows how to put one plus one together. Realizing that Gallant’s opposition had the potential to lead to the law’s collapse and enable the ultra-Orthodox parties to carry out their threats in a dissolute government, the prime minister chose to dismiss a deserving minister at Israel’s most dire hour.
In preserving his coalition and satisfying the demands of ultra-Orthodox party leaders, Netanyahu is denying the will of the Israeli majority, ignoring the outcry of reserve soldiers who have been serving almost without a break, turning a deaf ear to the pleas of families bearing burdens on the home, and failing to do what’s right.
But our hope is not lost, and yesterday the masses took to the streets in major cities to protest, to cry out, to safeguard our Jewish democratic values—precious values that we will not abandon. We stood together, shoulder to shoulder—religious and secular, right-wing and left-wing voters, young and old—and we cried the same cry: The people, our state’s identity and its values, and our Zionist vision are far more important than the petty, corrupt politics of the small-minded, shameful politicians who are chipping away at the edifice we have built here for eight decades. Our values are eternal, and they are the building blocks that hold us together.
Did Netanyahu, who resides just miles from the city square, hear the call? Certainly. Did he change his mind? Certainly not. The power of his political survival is stronger than the will of the people and our moral conscience. Instead of rising to the occasion and standing with us at this grave hour to chart a unifying path, correct countless injustices, and advocate for our ethical and physical existence, Netanyahu chose to ignore the needs of this hour and serve as a leader only for those who continue to crown him.
Amidst our own battles, we waited anxiously for the presidential election results from our great and important ally across the sea.
A poll by the Israel Democracy Institute, published this past weekend, dealt with the U.S. presidential election. The central question was this: “From Israel’s interests, which of the two presidential candidates would be better?” Nearly two-thirds (64.5%) of the entire sample believe that former President Donald Trump would be better for Israel’s interests.
In a breakdown by Israeli political parties, the Israeli left expressed a clear preference for Harris over Trump (42% vs. 29%), but among center- and right-wing respondents, Trump’s advantage over Harris is much greater (Center: Trump 52% vs. Harris 14%; Right: Trump 90% vs. Harris 3%).
In a gender breakdown, the rates of support for Harris as the preferred candidate for Israel’s interests are low among both women and men—around 13% across the board.
A breakdown by age reveals dramatic differences: Among young people, ages 18–34, an overwhelming majority believe that Trump is better for Israel’s interests than Harris.
These poll results are fascinating. Had the election been held in Israel, President-Elect Trump’s path to a second presidential term would have been far easier. Netanyahu and his government rejoiced in Trump’s victory and were among the first to offer congratulations.
Interesting times await, here in Israel, in North America, and across the world, which is greatly impacted by these elections.
Nearly 400 days and the war’s end is nowhere in sight. Israel will continue to fight for its existence and our 101 brothers and sisters languishing in Hamas captivity will continue to suffer as we all count, day after day, to what number?
Despair will continue to cover our skies, thicken the air, and darken with each breath.
Perhaps autumn will finally arrive, and its blessed rains will wash away summer dust, war dust, and the dust of despair. No matter what, however, we will never lose hope.
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.
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