To celebrate, or not to celebrate: that has become the national question
We share two Hebrew social media posts that wrestle with the question, out of deep love for and devotion to this place we call home.
I walked past this bus stop yesterday, and thought the blue and (purple and) white sign was adorable. יום העצמאות שמח ישראל, Yom Ha-Atzma’ut Same’ach, Yisrael. “Happy Independence Day, Israel.”
When I looked at it more closely, I saw that the sign had been “signed” Gan Tamar, Tamar’s Nursery School.
That made sense. You’d have to be pretty darn young to invest all that scribbling and coloring time on a sign like that this year.
It’s not that people don’t want to be happy. Some don’t know how. Totally understandable. And some don’t know whether they should. Also understandable.
As we mentioned yesterday, what to do on Independence Day this coming Tuesday is not at all clear. There’s a National Ceremony, as there always is, but without a live audience. But what about all the other stuff? The ubiquitous BBQ’s, the special liturgy for Yom Ha-Atzma’ut and all the rest? What should people do about the rest?
About that, there is a national debate, among very thoughtful, caring, Zionist, nuanced people, and today, we’re sharing a bit more of that as it has appeared on Israeli social media, to afford a glimpse of the soul—both proud and pained—that is Israel today.
The first post we’ll share is by Mishael Zion, whom we’ve had on our podcast in the past.
Rabbi Mishael Zion, an educator and community entrepreneur, is a faculty member of the Mandel Leadership Institute. He was the founding director of the Mandel Program for Leadership in Jewish Culture, where he currently serves as a faculty member dedicated to the leadership development of fellows and graduates in the fields of culture, media, and community in Israel.
Along with his father, Noam Zion, Mishael is the co-author of a few of the world’s bestselling Haggadot for Pesach, including The Israeli Haggadah (2024), A Night to Remember: The Haggadah of Contemporary Voices (2007) and Halaila Hazeh: An Israeli Haggadah (2004).
The first and the last of those three, in Hebrew, are continuing testimony to the unique, nuanced and thoughtful finger Mishael has on the pulse of Israeli culture and society.
In that light, his Facebook post from two days ago was particularly fascinating. We present it here, Google-translated, with only the most major mistakes and gaffes corrected.
Responsa about Yom Ha-Atzma’ut during wartime. *
Should we watch the torch ceremony?
No. Certainly not during the "live" broadcast. It is recorded anyway. Watch it the way people watch recorded things: by skipping to the inspiring parts. To see the people who are honored with lighting the torches, for example. That’s sufficient.
With whom should we celebrate Independence Day?
With the people with whom we celebrated October 8th, that day when all of us who were spared worked to save our country. With the neighbors and friends we volunteered alongside, or the reservists and regulars who found ourselves fighting alongside them. With the organizations and WhatsApp groups and local initiatives. With the family. With the people with whom we stood shoulder to shoulder to rebuild the country.
Wouldn’t it be better to completely cancel the celebration of Independence Day?
This is an understandable reaction. Even after the destruction of the Temple, there were those who asked to never make Kiddush again, to give up eating meat forever. But this year, marking Independence Day is a particularly important mitzvah. In the last few months we come to remember how dear our country is to us, how critical our sovereignty and our armies are to our lives and existence. How critical is a government that is legitimate, functioning and worthy.
And we also remember that our independence and our country do not exist except by our strength, and that without our participation it will surely be lost—at the hands of our enemies from the outside or those on the inside who seek to take advantage of us, and by anyone who does not lend a shoulder and participate in the public's sorrow and joy. That is why it is important to celebrate Independence Day this year, and in this way: not a celebration of those "above", but a strengthening of all of us "below".
But how will we celebrate with so much bereavement and loss? How do we BBQ? How will we dance?
Mourners in their year of mourning will not have barbecues. And they won't dance. And whoever feels himself in the circles of mourning this year, it is better not to dance or barbecue. And those whose loved ones are abducted or have not yet been brought to the grave of Israel, are in “aninut” [DG - a stage of mourning in Jewish law between death and burial], according to the language of the Halacha, and it is obvious that they and those who are by their side will not want to celebrate and they should not be expected to.
And what about mourners who want to celebrate? Or soldiers?
Mourners who wish to celebrate, rejoice, have a barbecue, can certainly do so. As it is said, “A heart knows its own bitterness”—every mourner knows what they need to lift their spirits.
And those who are with soldiers and reservists, or doctors and therapists, and anyone who is required these days for the war effort—if they want to celebrate—then it is a great mitzvah to celebrate with them, and even by karaoke or watching Bourekas films, anything that gives strength to do their job. …
And in community that has established an annual celebration on Independence Day, it is good that it is changing its practice, and finding different ways from the usual to celebrate Independence Day.
Should I recite Hallel?
National-religious communities usually say Hallel on Independence Day. Hallel is said for moments worthy of thanksgiving that happened to the people of Israel in the past. Hallel is not said about the present, but about the past. I will say Hillel this year to remember the intensity of gratitude that my Grandma Rachel felt when she heard on the radio that the UN had voted for the establishment of a Hebrew state in the Land of Israel, to connect with Grandpa Moshe's dancing in Madinah Square, to remember Grandpa Shlomo's excitement when he first added a State of Israel stamp to the stamp collection he collected in his village far away in the Netherlands. I will say Hallel this year in order to pray “Please, God, save me” in a loud voice, and then cry out “Please, God, please help me” and pray that it will be so.
What should we pray for on this independence day?
Ror the return of the captives. For healing for the wounded, healing of mind and healing of the body. Peace for Israel, and peace for all the inhabitants of this land. I will pray that the leaders of this country and their advisors will know how to make the right decisions and use the military’s achievements correctly.
And may we be blessed that God “Restore our judges as before and our counselors as at first. Remove sorrow and sighing from us,” [DG - a quote from the daily liturgy, in the amidah]. And may Zechariah's prophecy be fulfilled, that “old men and women will still live in the streets of Jerusalem,” and also Be’eri and and Ofakim, and Metula, and Shlomi, and “once again, shall old men and old women sit in the squares of Jerusalem, each with his staff in hand because of their many years. And the squares of the city shall be filled with boys and girls playing in her squares.” [DG - Zechariah 8:4]
* These answers are not "halachic" in the usual sense of the word, but reflect my own judgment and the heart. You are welcome to provide your own answers, and also suggest questions and we will try to answer them together.
Different, but with similar devotion to and love for this country, is the following Facebook post which was posted by Hanoch Daum (again, Google translated with only the most major mistakes corrected);
Please take two minutes to hear the request of a bereaved mother:
Hanoch, my name is Miriam Haber. Our son, the late Zachariah Pesach Haber, fell in Gaza on January 16, 2024. He left behind his wife Talia, three tiny children (Shadha’el, 5, Shevat 3, and Nahaliel 1), me and my husband Aaron, and 3 brothers (Natan’el, Noam and Israel), and a lot of relatives and good friends. Zachariah, 32 years old when he died, was a smiling, humble, very smart and an amazing family man.
At the time of his fall, Zachariah was about to finish his doctorate at Tel Aviv University in the Faculty of Plant Health and Food Security and research on growing wheat under drought conditions. His deep love for the Land of Israel and the people of Israel that led him to the field in which he chose to build his career, also led him to put everything aside when it was necessary to protect the south (and in the end he sacrificed himself for this purpose).
With Independence Day approaching, I want to share with you a text that Zachariah wrote on Independence Day 2019, a few days after missiles fell in the south:
The transition from Memorial Day to Independence Day every year is painful— from mourning to celebration, from sadness from loss to joy over everything that is. But I feel that this year it's a little too much...
It is true that for several years missiles, kites, and balloons have been falling on the residents of the south, or as it has already been said, "The south is the bullet proof vest of the country." So why do I feel that this year is different? In my opinion, the only thing that is different this time is the timing. The contrast this week between Sunday with pictures of people in insecure and helpless and Thursday with pictures of the safest country and with the strongest army in the Middle East... It’s really very jarring for me to celebrate Independence Day this year...
So what, not to celebrate this year? God forbid! This year, like every year, I intend to dress festively in blue and white, pray and recite Hallel with a wholehearted blessing. And I also wouldn't be against a barbecue and a good trip. So what? In my opinion, this year, during Independence Day, you should also go down to the south. Unfortunately, you don't need to go to the Gaza Strip in order to sympathize (and it’s not as if the Gaza envelope itself isn’t reason enough to sympathize). Even if you just go south to Ashkelon and Ashdod you will reach places that were shelled by rockets three days ago and people paid for it with their lives.
The idea is very simple—did you plan to have a barbecue on the beach in Tel Aviv? Have a barbecue [instead] on the beach of Ashkelon. Did you hope to travel in the area of Beit Shemesh, Nahal Alexander or the Dead Sea? Take a walk [instead] in the area of Eshkol Park, Nitsana or Hevel Lakish. Did you want to go out to a restaurant or a movie in Modi'in? Do it in Beer Sheva. Did you want to see the air force fly-over in Jerusalem? Watch the fly-over in Kiryat Gat... even a small part of the day (an hour or two) and come back, just to show the south that we have not abandoned them and the fact that they are not in the news on Independence Day does not mean that they are not in our hearts. It's true that most of us don't have time during the year to express our support for the south because of the busy week with work and children and family, etc., but this year we have the opportunity to take the day off that the vast majority of the country has and pour a little more meaning into it (without harming too much the fun and recreation itself)
I'm not saying that those who don't do this are betraying the residents of the south, and I'm not critiquing anyone, but here’s a point to think about... It's true that we believe that in their deaths, the fallen ordered us to rejoice wholeheartedly and seemingly to “forget” them on Independence Day, but I'm not sure that the residents of the south have made any such request while they’re still alive... It's time to give #independence_to the south.
I would love for you to share this text with your audience with two requests:
May everyone consider celebrating at least part of Independence Day this year (and every year) in the south. Anyone who wants to get details about a fun event that we are organizing … in the south in memory of the late Zachariah on Independence Day this year (and/or who wants to help organize an event) is welcome to contact me at …
Thanks
Miriam Haber
I’ve been in touch with the Haber family since that post. Unfortunately, the even that they had planned to hold in the south had to be cancelled for security reasons, but they have asked that anyone who can, also share this graphic with their son’s photo and part of the above message in Hebrew
as well as this link to a website they have created in his memory. There’s English on all the pages … I found it very moving.
A final closing thought before Shabbat.
Among the many, many comments in response to the Hanoch Daum / Miriam Haber post above, was the one below, in the yellow rectangle.
“I pray that we be worthy of the sacrifice that he made.”
Amen. יהי זכרו ברוך — May his memory be a blessing.
It's a lot to think about. It's a lot to feel. It's clear that the idea of victimization is still part of the national identity in the country of my birth. I have to explore myself to decide if independence is remotely possible for any human being defined by the past. Trauma leaves us hyper- vigilant. That is the furthest thing there is from independence. It is a river that carries us ever farther away from peace... within ourselves or among one another. In that wilderness savagery rules us and we become far less than simply oppressed. We devolve to instinct. In a very sad sense, we cannot be moral there. Maybe that is why we go... to relieve ourselves of our obligations, to be Cain so we can kill Able and say we had no choice...