There is no instant resurrection: what I learned from the entanglement

During the months of the war, the word ‘resurrection’ became a common word, almost a cliché. From the Directorate for the Rehabilitation of the Settlements Surrounding Gaza, which were nicknamed the “Revival Zone”, through the attempt to brand the current generation of young people as the “Revival Generation”, to the attempt by the Minister of Education to cancel the “regular” Israel awards and replace them with “Revival” awards. After the unprecedented rupture of October 7, it seems that in Israel everyone needs not only grace, but also revival.

This mindset also has a second and problematic side. The attempts to prove that Israeli society has “returned to itself” sometimes take on a vulgar, even cruel character. In the government’s outline for the return of the residents of the Otaf to their homes, a day of hesitation may cost them thousands of shekels; The teachers’ organizations warn of a threat to educators from Otef to be sent to the military if they do not return to teach in Otef; the Minister of Labor testified to hundreds of applications from reservists who receive letters of dismissal; and students who have returned from the reserves also have difficulty receiving adequate compensation.

Besides saving money or effort, or trying to rake in PR, these steps may reflect something deeper. Most people are comfortable labeling people and situations in a dichotomous way: dismantling or construction, danger or heroism, emergency or routine, destruction or resurrection. It is difficult to contain the continuous fracture, which coexists with strength, courage, life force and longing for normality. This difficulty results in a tendency to try and shorten processes, and leave behind those who do not keep up. But there is no instant resurrection.

The surrounding youth chose to be who they are

Last January, for one week, I tutored the 11th grade students at the Nofi Hashur regional high school in the Gaza Strip, together with a group of instructors from the alumni movement of the ‘Olim camps’. This is a grade where three of its students were murdered; several more were kidnapped and returned; and the students and teachers were evacuated from their homes and scattered in the evacuation centers throughout the country. After three months in which they hardly all met together, the school held a joint seminar for them. The teachers gave lessons and reinforcements, and we, instructors with a background in informal education, conducted social activities.

We arrived as guests, for a week which is a brief moment in the unfolding reality. We knew that we could not or should not replace the long-term strengths of the communities, and we wanted to provide a focused educational solution, to help create a platform for meeting, refreshing, and revealing inner strengths. During this week I feel that I have educated myself to be patient, to include the ‘both and’.

The trauma is reflected in the flashes. Moments of dark humor, an anecdote about someone who is no longer with us, a song or color that turns out to be a trigger, and a ‘spoken word’ monologue about the murdered school guard. But alongside this, we met first of all teenagers who are determined to be teenagers, to be who they are. Hapoel fans, surfers, students who complain about the stress of matriculation or good friends. No Hamasnik will manage their identity.

Only activity will allow growth

The meeting with the high school students from the Otaf reflected something broader for me, about the Israeli society’s dealing with a reality in which many experienced and still experience a sharp and forced change, a scarring upheaval and loss. On the one hand, things must not be swept under the carpet in the name of the desire to ‘move forward’. But it is also forbidden to treat people patronizingly, as those whose suffering prevents them from being active. On the contrary: only the activeness brings a chance for growth.

One of the challenges of Israeli society after October 7, is to recognize the pain and difficulty of those who were or are still ‘there’, and allow them to choose their way of coping. Whether these are the communities and families that experienced the massacre, the evacuees from the south and the north, the bereaved families or the fighters in Gaza.

Israeli society is being re-examined every time in its attitude to those who went through a difficult and shocking experience, from the Holocaust survivors who came to the country’s foundation, through Yom Kippur fighters to Ethiopian Jews. This requires supporting without being patronizing, embracing a hug that is not a bear hug, writing a story about a new Zionist home together with the people, and not over their heads.

The partnership test

The government should recognize this complexity, and take it into account in its steps. The residents of the borders need flexible torture for those returning home and those who have not yet, and also the ability to be partners in the process of return and rehabilitation. The reservists need the possibility to return to employment and academia gradually or partially. Those who are grieving their loved ones or suffering from post-trauma need recognition, therapeutic response and assistance. Even the official ceremonies on Memorial and Independence Day should reflect the complexity, not be satisfied with superficial clichés.

The Israeli public is also required to meet the partnership test: to meet the people where they are. Do not run in front of them, and do not give up on them. To hear the heroism and helplessness, the dreams and the abysses of despair, the patriotism and the burning sense of betrayal. To outline a better horizon, without obsessive panic for a sudden rise, without plastering over the embarrassments. to agree to stay, hug and be of help; invite to act and create and organize; Allow to be angry and cry and shrug.

This is the difference between a real revival and an instant revival: not to impose a show of ‘normality’, but to be guarantors for all those who have been abandoned and harmed, in the long and delicate process of reunification and rebuilding.