We want to be seen

Israelis haven't slept for two weeks. Do you care?

As I was writing this essay, we heard additional details about the terrible terrorist attack at Temple Israel in West Bloomfield, Michigan. As of this writing, it appears that the only casualty is the terrorist himself. We hope that this is accurate, and pray that the members of the Temple Israel community are able to speedily return to normal life without fear.

I write this short piece with mixed emotions. Above all, I’m afraid that I won’t articulate my point accurately - because I’m having a hard time articulating it to myself.

I wanted to express my… I’m not sure: Dismay? Surprise? Frustration? - at what seems to be a broad disinterest in the welfare of average Israelis during this round of fighting against Iran and Hezbollah.

Of course, I have friends and family members who reach out to me and other Israelis regularly. I know of public figures who are tirelessly working to support U.S. armed forces and the IDF in the face of extensive criticism from talking heads on both the left and the right. There are, that is, many people who feel personally invested in the current situation and who obsessively check in on their loved ones in Israel and do what they can to help.

Others, however, seem to care less now than they did in the past. This was brought home to me when I listened to certain important Jewish podcasts which completely ignored the current situation in Israel - not even bothering to compose a hastily recorded or written statement that “This podcast was produced before the current war with Iran. We pray for the success of Israel and the United States in their fight against tyranny.”

Some, of course, did just that. Yet many others didn’t.

How do you think that makes Israelis feel?

I did not know whether people in the United States would even know what I’m talking about, until I read Mijal Bitton’s latest Substack post less than an hour ago. She wrote:

I’m still reading the news obsessively. But I’ve noticed something in myself, and in the American Jews around me – good Israel-loving people. We are checking in less on our Israeli friends and family than we did in the aftermath of October 7^th – less than during the Iran war last June.

I’m not the only one to have noticed it. This morning EJP’s Judah Ari Gross covered this as well, writing about how “funders and nonprofit leaders in Israel are describing a marked drop in engagement from their Diaspora counterparts during this round of fighting against Iran and its proxies, compared to similar conflicts over the past two-plus years.”

I’ve been trying to understand why. Is it compassion fatigue? The problems in our own backyard pulling at our attention? Is it the distrust that some American Jews have in this current US administration? Is it a belief that Israelis are resilient and strong?

Or have we developed a certain quiet acceptance that missiles are falling on our friends and family who are huddled in shelters that protect them, that the emergency six thousand miles away has become the weather?

When reading Mijal’s words, I finally felt seen and understood.

Let me be clear: we are not victims, and we would hate to be seen as victims. Israelis are resilient and strong, and we are proud that we are directly involved in confronting terrorist-loving tyrants. We would want nothing less.

We Israelis, I believe, see ourselves as doing the dirty work that helps both Jews across the world, and the West in general. Jewish people outside of Israel may scoff at this and declare that we are doing no such thing; and dismissing our belief is their prerogative. That does not change our perception, however, that we’re running into our shelters so that you won’t have to do the same sometime in the future.

Part of this… not indifference, exactly; maybe habituation? - can actually be seen as a type of compliment. “Israelis are made of strong stuff,” I hear repeatedly. And that’s true.

It is also true that few of us have had a good night’s sleep in two weeks, because we are regularly awakened by the jarring tone of phone alerts and the spooky sound of air raid sirens. It is also true that individuals who were in school or working have been called back to the army, and now are guarding our borders and withstanding attacks from Lebanon. It is also true that many of our children are again living, albeit temporarily, in one-parent families as Abba was called back into the army yet again. It is also true that our kids don’t have school, that our babies don’t have daycare, that we’re working remotely and with fewer hours, making less money even as our expenses, if anything, have gone up. It is also true that going to the supermarket or to shul means wondering if you’re going to end up breathlessly knocking on a stranger’s door to ask for shelter when the missiles start falling.

I took this video on Tuesday from the porch in my house. You can see the smoke from an Iranian missile rising behind the tree.

We’re proud that we stand tall in the face of Iranian and Hezbollah missile attacks. And along with that pride comes exhaustion, frustration, and fear. When a missile falls within sight of your house - and last week, nine people in Beit Shemesh were killed by an Iranian missile, even though they were in a shelter - it is scant consolation to tell yourself that Israelis are strong. It’s even less consolation when so many people who care about Israel seem to consider this nothing worth noting - something that, as Mijal said, has become the weather - and it’s more interesting to talk about the Pesach program they’re promoting without even acknowledging the crazy existence we’re living through today.

I write these words in order to open a conversation, not to lay down a definitive characterization of Israeli or American attitudes. Perhaps I’m wrong on all counts; perhaps I am simply looking in the wrong places.

Perhaps I’m not.

Let’s strengthen the bonds that unite Jews in Israel and across the world.

Because right now, those bonds seem looser than they were in the past - and Israelis have started to notice.