Yisrael, Haya and Snir

 

13^th February, 2026

 

Shabbat Shalom to each and every one and Ramadan Mubarak for Tuesday. I hope someone has ignored the fact that St Valentine was an antisemite and has chosen to be romantic! Friday 13^th doesn’t worry me, 13 is good luck in Judaism.

 

This week I had intended to give you the usual news rundown, but apart from a very few worthy items I have a story to tell a story that is more important than the most gripping of news.

 

First and foremost, on Monday, I drove to Herzliya Pituach for a truly uplifting meeting of the Israel British and Commonwealth Association, led by the Chairperson, Melvin Berwald. Dan Kosky, an indispensable part of the IMPACT-se team since his Aliya, spoke with clarity and conviction about our work and the measurable progress being made in advancing tolerance in education across our region, with a few notable exceptions.

 

At the insistence of the Prime Minister’s Office, the word “massacre” has been excised from the title of a bill establishing an annual commemoration of the 7 October Hamas attack. Bereaved families are incandescent. They accuse the Netanyahu government of attempting to launder language in order to blunt the truth — and, with it, responsibility. Equally, the terrible situation of crime and killings in the Arab sector has been exacerbated by two simultaneous situations. Ben Gvir has repealed the committee of Israeli Arabs to prevent crime and criminals and terrorists have infiltrated from the disputed areas.

 

King's College London, the famous College of the University of London, showed a screening of the bearing witness to the October the 7th Massacre, the first time it has been shown to a public audience. 

 

I had planned to reflect on the unpredictable and often disconcerting reality of our current situation and why the Prime Minister has returned yet again for a meeting with the President of the United States, presumably to discuss the impending attacks by the Ayatollahs and why the visit our President, President Herzog to Australia, to stand by the families of Australians who were killed in an attack on Australian soil, is considered, by some, as controversial.  Instead, I want to tell you a very Israeli story.

 

At the centre of our estate stands a remarkable building, once the convalescent home for members of Israel’s only union in the early years of the state. It is clad with Jerusalem stone, its architecture inspired by the White House. When we first moved here, we were told it would one day become a community centre. For years it stood beautiful but empty, as though waiting for its true purpose. Now it has found its calling as a Wellness Centre for those living with the physical and psychological aftershocks of the 7^th of October 2023. In truth, almost everyone in Israel carries the sadness of that day, but for Nova survivors, for those who ran for their lives that morning, and for soldiers who saw what no human being should ever see and returned from Gaza, the trauma does not sit lightly. It burrows deep. It alters the air they breathe. It threatens the soul itself.

 

On Wednesday morning my dear friend and neighbour Gila invited me for coffee at the new café that has opened inside the centre, just two minutes’ walk from our home. As we sat talking, the young barman drew my attention. There was something about him, as though he were fully present and yet carrying an enormous weight just beneath the surface. He had a soft face, long hair tied back in a ponytail. His tzitzit (ritual fringes on the corners of men’s undershirts) were visible beneath his sweatshirt, yet he wore no kippah which somehow felt deliberate, and it drew me to ask who he was and what had brought him here.

 

The centre and café, he told us, were the brainchild of himself, his sister Haya and their friend Snir. His name is Yisrael.

 

When I asked about the name “Café Moreshet”, moreshet means heritage, and what had led them to create a Wellness Centre, and what his connection was to 7 October, he did not hesitate. He didn’t dramatise or embellish his story, he spoke with the quiet urgency of someone who has been holding his breath for too long and can no longer do so. We listened without interruption, allowing his pauses to linger, understanding that the spaces between his words were as heavy as the words themselves.

He and several friends had been among the organisers of the Nova Festival. Everything had been done properly, police permission, IDF coordination, local authority approval. They prepared and cared for the site on Thursday and Friday; another company was due to take over on Friday night. Exhausted, they went to sleep intending to rise at 6:00 am to oversee the handover. For reasons none of them can explain, they overslept.

 

At 06:29, 3,700 missiles were launched at Israel. Thousands of terrorists broke through the fence between Gaza and the small communities killing, burning and raping and began the slaughter at the Nova Peace Festival. Yisrael had slept through the worst disaster Israel had ever known. When he repeated the time, six twenty-nine, his voice changed. He said it quietly, as though it were engraved somewhere inside him. He, Snir and Haya lost many friends that morning. He did not recite their names, but their absence was palpable, filling the air around us. “I keep thinking,” he said softly, “if we had been there…” The sentence trailed away, he didn’t need to finish it. The implication that perhaps they might have done something, changed something, saved someone hung in the air like a heavy weight.

 

The survivor’s guilt was not abstract; it was crushing. He returned home and shut himself in his room, barely emerging for a year. PTSD did not come as shouting or visible breakdown; it came as numbness, paralysis, an endless replaying of a morning he had not witnessed yet could not escape. He searched obsessively for a moment that might have altered the course of events, a different instinct, a different choice. There was no self-pity in his telling and no attempt to excuse himself. There was only a pain so clear that all we could do was bear witness to it.

 

Slowly, he said, an idea began to take shape. If he could not undo that day, perhaps he could help others survive what followed it. The Wellness Centre was not conceived as a business venture; it was born of necessity. He needed somewhere to go, a reason to leave his room, a structure that demanded his presence when he felt least capable of giving it. Together with Haya and Snir he searched for a space, and when the local council suggested the old convalescent home, they walked through its doors and knew. The light filtering through the windows, the quiet dignity of the building, its history as a place of healing felt almost providential. Their father has guaranteed the funding for the first year, an act of profound faith in his children and in their fragile but determined vision. After that they are on their own, sustained only by commitment, courage and the conviction that this place must exist.

 

Today the centre offers therapy sessions, workshops, breathing groups, conversation and coffee. But what it truly offers is something far rarer: permission. Permission to say, “I am not coping.” Permission to speak of what haunts the night. Permission to sit across from someone who will not flinch. Yisrael tells his story because silence almost destroyed him, and with each telling the weight shifts, if only slightly. Each person who walks through those Jerusalem stone doors seeking help becomes part of his own fragile healing.

 

Before we left, I asked him about the tzitzit and the absence of a kippah. He gave a wry, almost shy smile. The tzitzit, he said, are his way of thanking the Almighty for being alive; the absence of the kippah is because the Nova massacre happened and he lost so many friends. In that simple explanation lay gratitude and rupture intertwined, faith expressed, faith wounded. And in that moment, we realised that the building at the centre of our estate is doing exactly what it was always meant to do: accepting pain and bringing hope within its walls, and allowing broken hearts, slowly and imperfectly, to mend.

 

The story is so Israeli, although not exclusively so. There are people around the world who fought in many wars and suffer the emotional consequences but here, army veterans with PTSD do not beg for food on the streets, they are our heroes and although some slip through the net, they are few. We treasure them, we do everything in our power to give them succour.

 

Yisrael, Haya and Snir took their immeasurable pain and turned it into a place of healing. That is their story and that is Israel’s story. I see soldiers without limbs running in international sports through the care of rehabilitation and now they also have a place for their emotional rehabilitation through gentle love.

 

A change of mood and direction!

 

Did you know that Israel has a bob-sled team in the Winter Olympics? Not only do we have a bob-sled team but one of our team is a Druze, the first ever Druze to compete in the Olympics. Wared Fawarsy, who is making history as the first Druze to represent Israel in the Olympics, was a passionate lover of rugby who owned his own sports club when A J Edelman, the Israeli team leader, sent him an Instagram suggesting he join the “Shul Runnings” team. Shul Runnings comes of course from the movie about the Jamaican bob-sled team, no less unlikely than Shul Runnings (shul being Yiddish for synagogue). 5 Jews, one Druze and a Shiba Inu dog!!!

 

A tree is framed in the window right in front of me as I write to you, an almond blossom, the famous shkedia, its pale pink blossom heralding spring. As I drove to Herzliya the puff balls of shkediot on the hillsides gave my journey a special feel, especially as I came to the junction between Herzliya and Kfar Shmeriyahu and saw the enormous Israeli flag flying gently in the breeze. What a welcome! Talking of fruits, no matter how many kumquats I pick to give to friends, the tree is still laden. Limes aplenty, oranges and a tree full of tiny lemons (if anyone knows the name of these sweet and juicy little lemons please tell me). All of the above are barely as tall as Zvi except for the fejoya. I can see the tiny sunbird darting about in the shekdia, enjoying the feast of sweet blossom. I love this season of hope and new growth, hope that we will find solutions to the multiple problems of the world while enjoying the beauty of new growth.

 

For no particular reason I love this song, especially the singers. B’derech shelcha – Your way or your route, sung by soldiers of the IDF. https://youtu.be/ybJgDpCGG8o?si=4AbS2iiyQVu66EsA  

 

In Judaism we are taught that each morning, as we wake, we thank the Almighty for giving us back our soul. Giving thanks is not a matter of religious observance, this prayer is simply thanks for giving us one more day. Omer Adam with Modeh Ani  https://youtu.be/npRw36_Ftmc?si=HDSpDxXWzt_HbJG3 

 

Again to Omer Adam singing the most appropriate song for today, Friday, Yom Shishi. https://youtu.be/yI73P4c6vlQ?si=-uagM-5krgR3R6P4

 

That’s it! Today Zvi will head off to his parliament and I will go to see Rachel. Tonight we are just us, the two of us and tomorrow we will listen to a lecture by Or Heller, definitely one of the most informative military  journalist in Israel from where we can walk to Shabbat lunch with our lovely friends Sharon and Ernst Voss. In the meantime dear friends, take care of yourselves, stand tall and proud, never bend to bullying.

 

Shabbat Shalom and much love from the Jerusalem Hills

Sheila

 

 

From Herzl to Herzog

 

6^th February, 2026

19^th Shvat, 5786

 

Shabbat Shalom. I hope that this missive finds you all well, after all where would I be without you to tell you of our worries and joys?

 

The stand-off we are living through, between a power defined by scale, technology and modernity and another driven by religious absolutism, brings to mind the early Cold War in unsettling ways; indeed, I can’t get it out of my mind. Those of a certain age remember the Kennedy years: history seemed to hold its breath as families watched the news on their black-and-white televisions or sat close to their radios, waiting to hear whether the world would slide into catastrophe. Today feels eerily familiar. Allies are aligned, ships and aircraft are in position, troops on standby, prepared for war while fervently hoping that their acts of deterrence hold. When the immediate danger passed, Kennedy issued a warning rather than a reassurance, observing that “the complacent, the self-indulgent, the soft societies are about to be swept away with the debris of history”. It is a sentence that resonates with even greater force now.

 

I’m Israeli-British and I have to admit that the Super Bowl doesn’t have the same ring as the Ashes (cricket) or the 6 Nations (rugby), but I realise that it is a major cultural event in the United States and that advertisements shown during the game are of paramount importance. That is why Robert Kraft’s Blue Square Alliance ad is so important; it emphasises the unthinking cruelty of antisemitism and reaches those who would never consider watching something that reaches so deeply into American society.  The advertisement points out that a terrifying 2 out of 3 Jewish American schoolchildren have encountered antisemitism  https://youtu.be/YgOkCFGNeTE?si=cEfIiEQzGo0n-bAg

 

Every single day this year, an Israeli Arab under the age of 30 has been killed in criminal violence. This is not a statistic; it is a national emergency. The government’s inaction has been deafening, leaving entire communities exposed and lives treated as disposable. That is why Israeli Arabs and Jews are now standing together in quiet demonstrations, demanding action, real policing, real protection, and real accountability. Silence is no longer neglect; it is complicity.

 

Something is profoundly wrong in the way a small group of young extremists are interpreting Judaism. Their actions bear no relation to Jewish teaching or values and, in their cruelty and extremism, disturbingly resemble the methods of Islamist terrorists. The so-called Hilltop Youth are attacking ordinary people Arab farmers, goatherders, Bedouin and villagers, burning homes and vehicles, assaulting individuals, stealing livestock and destroying olive groves. This is not religious devotion; it is lawlessness dressed up as faith, and it should trouble anyone who cares about Judaism, justice or the rule of law. Again, the inaction of the police is complicit with their inexorable behaviour.

 

I have a question that should trouble every right-thinking human being. Where is the outrage from the self-appointed, armchair champions of human rights when the Iranian regime murders thousands of its own people? Where were they when a Syrian despot slaughtered half a million of his citizens? Who marches for the Igbo, the Kurds, or Nigerian Christians? Where are the crowds who deface monuments, chant slogans, and scream fury, especially those who cannot even name the river or the sea they shout about? The answer is painfully simple: none of these crimes involve Israel or Jews. Their supposed concern for human rights collapses under the weight of its own dishonesty. What remains is not compassion, but a prejudice so deeply embedded that it blinds them to every atrocity except the one that allows them to indulge their antisemitism.

 

While Qatar presents itself as an “honest broker” in the region, a new IMPACT-se report shows that for the fourth consecutive year its school textbooks remain unchanged, steeped in antisemitism, jihad, the glorification of martyrdom, hostility to non-Muslims, and the denial of Israel’s right to exist. The US State Department’s 2024 Report on International Religious Freedom explicitly condemned this material, citing IMPACT-se, yet Qatar simply reprinted the same books. This toxic culture is reflected at the highest level: Qatar’s current education minister publicly mourned senior Hamas leaders. Even as Qatari children are taught hatred at home, Qatar markets itself to the gullible West as a responsible diplomatic and economic partner, pouring billions into US education, the largest foreign funder, in a deeply troubling contradiction.

Yesterday I drove to Givat Ze’ev to spend some time with Rachel. The journey should be a pleasure: the road is easy, the views extraordinary, Jerusalem spread out below as you pass Samuel’s Tomb, from which, they say, you can see not only the fabulous panorama of Jerusalem but all the way to the sea. And then my mood changes. As the road drops towards Givat Ze’ev, Ramallah and its sprawling suburbs press into the hills, vast building projects rising unchecked right up to the fence, well past the imposed no man’s land. The contrast is jarring, and infuriating. On our side of the fence, even the smallest construction is endlessly scrutinised and condemned by countries that have never bothered to come here to see what is actually happening. Such hypocrisy simply plays into the hands of the Palestinian Authority.

 

Young Israelis have a tendency to set off on their travels after their army service or Sherut Leumi (public service). No European Culture tours for them, they set off on adventures in South America (the favourite), Thailand, Vietnam and other wonderful new experiences. My granddaughter, Talia, is off on her adventure, intending to travel around South America where Habad provides housing and food all over the continent. As one does, I decided to let one of my favourite people know that Talia was going to be in Panama and I was absolutely blown away by the open house that Sally and Gabriel Safdie provided to Talia and even a few of her friends. Such warmth and generosity is rare and our gratitude absolute. Sally is the epitome of “Eshet Chayil” “Woman of Valour" or "Woman of Strength." Originating from Proverbs, it is a poem praising a woman for her wisdom, kindness, industriousness, and strength, rather than just domestic virtue. Most of all she has become a trusted friend to Talia.

 

Zvi and I decided to go for a walk. We were rushed off our feet this week but nonetheless, seeing the number of cars parked near the path to the now overflowing reservoir we felt there must be something extraordinary to see. We set off, crossing the winding road to our home; actually I must digress, partly because I haven’t done so in this missive and partly because it is important to the story. OK Let me start again from the beginning. The village of Motza, the current one not the thousands of years old settlement, consisted of just a few farmers when Theordore Herzl came to enjoy the pure air with his friend David Woolfson, and the road that ran through the village, which was also the road or rather route to Jerusalem barely existed. As time went on and the village grew the road and its winding, hair-pin bends took on the name of Sheva Achiot, or seven sisters due to the seven aforementioned hairpins. Now back to the intended walk. We crossed Sheva Achiot and went through the gate to the somewhat rocky path, with me hanging on to Zvi to keep myself steady. The path was covered in almond trees, their fragrant blossom lifting our spirits and among the rocks at the side were beautiful pink Rakafot (wild cyclamen). We passed other walkers, always greeting each other with a “Shalom isn’t it wonderful” until we came to the vista point. Funny really, it has become famous after being chosen as one of Israel’s most beautiful views, but it just consists of an old rusty bench under the shade of fir trees. It really is stunning, to sit there, a light breeze catching the movement of the trees and lo and behold, the lake below us. The rains of the last few weeks have filled the reservoir, overflowing the dam and providing a view from a place of complete peace. It is worth the difficult (for me) walk just to sit and find a quietness in the green and beautiful view, knowing that there is still a place for sanity in this world.

 

On Monday the residents of Motza Illit were paid a visit by President Isaac “Bougie” Herzog to plant his tree in the Avenue of Presidents right under our veranda, appropriately because Monday was Tu b’Shvat, the 15^th day of the Hebrew month of Shvat and the New Year for Trees. Almost all the Presidents of Israel have trees planted in the Avenue of the Presidents, following in the footsteps of Theordore Herzl and David Woolfson because planting a tree represents hope for the future and expresses a sense of permanency and intimacy with the land. The initial planting represented threat to Haj Amin al Husseini, who later supported Hitler, that the “King of the Jews” had planted a tree and under cover of night he cut the tree down and the stump remains. The founder of  Bezalel Academy of Arts and Design , Professor Boris Shatz, decided to recover the trunk of the tree and give it a formal burial. Sadly nobody knows where it is buried so that story remains legend. My goodness I made up for the former lack of diversion!  The festivities began in the beautiful “Big House” which is now a wellness clinic, started by a mother who lost her child on October 7^th. We sat in the beautiful theatre as the President spoke and received a framed award and then enjoyed refreshments (of course) before walking down the steps to the planting.

 

An exciting week, and one in which music, as always, played a huge part. It isn’t just the fact that Zvi sings in two choirs, his beautiful, rich bass baritone in demand, for me music is memories, music brings back so many wonderful events and family gatherings that I don’t think I could manage without it. My car has suddenly discovered Spotify, how only heaven knows, but I must say that the choice of music is strangely appropriate! Mostly 60’s I find myself singing along as I drive back and fore on the wide highway between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv.

 

The Vietnam war and the deaths of a President, his brother and a great leader for change brought out music that created social change as at no other time. I’d love to hear from you as to what your favourite music from that time, the music that was life-changing for you.

 

I can’t promise life-changing music but, as they say, if music be the food of love, play on. Music can  a vessel to express meaning  as in לַכֹּ֖ל זְמָ֑ן וְעֵ֥ת לְכָל־חֵ֖פֶץ תַּ֥חַת הַשָּׁמָֽיִם׃ in Ecclesiastes or Kohelet.

“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven” Such simple words. https://youtu.be/n0xzyhoeu1Y?si=uZZWtGPUAw2ix3Qs

 

Even major stars serve in the IDF, some of them telling the story of how we, tiny Israel survives and thrives. https://youtu.be/M8Nz-wBEf7o?si=JPMz4EHAiG_d5c-S

 

Eretz Eretz Eretz, the land in which we were born and the land we will love as Mother and Father. Yonina with the song that says it all. https://youtu.be/fQdLxr5MH5s?si=ZpbpScnzQASKhpVt

 

Zvi has gone to his parliament in the Botanical Gardens. They certainly have a great deal to discuss, from Iran to Trump, from travels to concerns, but they discuss everything including their disagreements. This is a wonderfully open society, nothing off the table. Here at home Shabbat is in the air, literally. The aromas of many nations hits the air and brings back memories of lands of dispersion and exile, and the coming together again, the coming home. From Moroccan to Kurdish or Syrian kubbeh soup, Ashkenazi chicken soup and kneidlach, sweet chicken with dried fruit and long cooked beef which falls apart before it reaches the mouth, dishes that link to the countries of the Jewish Diaspora where Jews thrived for thousands of years until thrown out like animals, but we knew where to go, we came home.

 

Shabbat Shalom dear friends. As the Shabbat prayer says “May the Lord watch you and keep you”

Sheila

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

Homeland, Fake News and Great Women

 ​HOMELAND, FAKE NEWS AND GREAT WOMEN

30^th January 2026

12^th Shvat, 5786

 

Shabbat Shalom dear friends, Shabbat Shalom.

 

International Holocaust Day has been and gone but hatred and dehumanisation remain. Norwegian lawmaker Joel Ystebø has nominated Yad Vashem, the World Holocaust Remembrance Center, for the Nobel Peace Prize, in recognition of its vital work in Holocaust education and remembrance.  “In a time when antisemitism is once again gaining a foothold in public discourse, Yad Vashem reminds us of what is at stake if hatred and lies are allowed to pervade, I believe that the Nobel committee should take a stand on antisemitism”

 

There are many dark issues I could quote but I was excited to see that Former Conservative Minister Sajid Javid has become Chair of the Holocaust Memorial Day Trust (HMDT), setting out his determination to get the number of school children engaged with learning the lessons of the Shoah, the Holocaust, back up to levels “higher than ever before”. Sajid Javid was born in the UK to a Pakistani Moslem family who chose to follow his heart and head not the flock.

 

Zvi and I are hooked on Homeland which is based on the acclaimed Israeli series  Hatufim (English: Prisoners of War), created by Gideon Raff. There are several episodes dedicated to the devastation caused by fake news and its relevancy to today was absolute. It is worth reminding ourselves that the real enemy is not President Trump, however divisive his style may be, but the Iranian Ayatollahs and the network of proxies they command. This regime has spent decades exporting hatred, violence, and instability far beyond its borders, into the Middle East, Europe, and now US universities. Through funding, propaganda, and relentless ideological conditioning, they have succeeded in poisoning the minds of young people who mistake extremism for justice and intimidation for moral courage. Personalities come and go in politics; ideologies rooted in repression and destruction are far more dangerous, and our attention should be fixed on them.

 

We finally took down the yellow ribbons on our doors and cars. Ran Gvili z”l has finally come home; his body returned for burial after 843 days of unbearable pain for his family. Ran’s body was found through the painstaking work of the dental teams of the Israeli Coroners Research Institute, who worked through 250 bodies in the blood-stained ground of Gaza, an unthinkable task. For his family, the waiting is over; for all Israelis, the questions remain. The Gaza war may be over, but what now? Can we rediscover the glue, the common ground, that once held us together, before grief, anger, and the divisive policies of this government split us apart? Will we ever learn the truth of the days, weeks and months leading up to October 7^th?

 

When Itam worked late in the Impact-se offices about 5 years ago and found the UNWRA curriculum online, a result of schools in Gaza closing due to Covid, none of us fully comprehended the ramifications.  Impact-se immediately began to research the material in great depth and the resulting report took the world by surprise. https://www.impact-se.org/wp-content/uploads/Review-of-2022-UNRWA-Produced-School-Materials.pdf It took the world a horrendous rampage of evil on October 7^th to understand our discovery. Western leaders have withheld funding, albeit temporarily, and the evil that is UNWRA has come to light. This week the UNWRA HQ in Jerusalem was pulled down. A small start but a start nevertheless.

We |Israelis find a disturbing comparison to today’s chjoiceof some sectors of our society.

On January 25, 2026, over 600 evangelical churches representing around 1,100 leaders worldwide, participated in the third annual Solidarity Sunday, organized by the Eagles’ Wings ministry, to oppose rising antisemitism. The initiative featured Jewish speakers in churches across the U.S., Canada, Brazil, and other nations, alongside a global broadcast from Buffalo, N.Y

 

Perhaps you already knew about the Evangelical support for Israel (often mistrusted and misunderstood) but you were almost certainly unaware of the LDS (Mormon) support of Israel. In a groundbreaking act of interfaith co-operation, Rabbi Jarrod Grover of Beth Tikvah Synagogue in Toronto led a nine-day humanitarian mission to Israel that brought together Jewish participants and 10 young adults from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints as part of Birthright Israel Foundation’s Birthright Volunteer program and marked the first time it formally included non-Jewish participants.

 

I was fascinated by this week’s Torah reading and its unmistakable heroine, Deborah. A formidable leader, she does not hesitate to curse the people of Meroz for failing to come to the aid of their nation at a critical moment, a rebuke delivered through an angel. Her song also challenges the tribes who chose the comfort of flocks and ships over responsibility and courage. It is a timeless reminder that leadership demands action, and that standing aside in moments of danger is a moral failure.  85 million Anglicans welcome a woman, Sarah Mullally, a former nurse, as the new Archbishop of Canterbury, Deborah stands as a powerful biblical reminder that strong female leadership is nothing new.

 

Since we are talking of women, brave, strong women, I have one hard question on my mind, admittedly one of many; who will remember the girls, the tatspatiniot, the observers, who saw the warning signs, reported the unusual activity on the Gaza border, and were ignored? They did their duty with quiet courage, yet were left without protection, and on October 7^th 2023, many paid with their lives. Their voices were clear, their vigilance unwavering, and their fate unbearably tragic. They deserve to be remembered not only for how they died, but for the truth they saw, the responsibility they carried, and the failure that abandoned them. Only an independent inquiry can find the answer.

 

The Pentagon’s 2026 Defence Strategy Report described Israel as a model ally. In previous strategy reports that sought to balance relationships across the region, Israel is at the centre of American strategic thinking. The report defines Israel as a “model ally”: “a country that does not ask the United States to fight on its behalf, but one that demonstrates both the willingness and the capability to defend itself independently, and is therefore deserving of unequivocal support.” Perfect ally we may be, but unlike all our allies, this war is on our own doorstep and the question on all Israeli lips, irrespective of political leanings, creed or colour, is “will the war restart and if so when”

 

Did you know that ecology is a central element of Judaism and has been for thousands of years? We even have a festival in which we plant new trees, not surprisingly known as the New Year for Trees! That respect for mother nature and her effect on our climate has brought Israel to the first place, worldwide, for increasing its number of trees planted annually. I remember, as a child, being taken out of Sunday school to plant a sapling and this year, for my 80^th birthday, I decided to recreate that act with grateful thanks to my siblings, Eddie and Ray, Doreen, Ronnie and Sandie and my beloved daughter-in-law Karen, who clubbed together to buy me a tree of my choice. I chose a large fejoyia (is that how you spell it) tree which is framed by the huge window of our new extension. The tree stands tall, representing the strength and fruitfulness of this amazing country, standing firmly in its pot. When the nurseryman came to deliver it, he decided to plant it for me, not in his normal tasks, “because it is you”, surely the greatest compliment.

 

The celebrations of last week continued into this week, starting with a visit to an Air Force base to visit our granddaughter, Amit. The meeting site was quite beautiful because in every camp in Israel, every Soldier has somewhere to meet the parents a picnic area specially designated with picnic tables with special chairs and a lavish picnic, traditionally the picnic consists of schnitzels, multiple salads and humus. This country is exceptional because we understand that our soldiers need their family support because

our Wars are not thousands of miles away.

 

Next a wonderful, joyous wedding of Rachel’s husband’s nephew. It was a happy, traditional wedding, a family affair as the young couple arrived at the runway which led to the chuppah, the wedding canopy. First Noam was accompanied by his father and future father-in-law, followed by the bride and her mother and future mother-in-law. Then Noam gently lifted his bride’s veil, a symbolic reference to the story of Jacob, who worked seven years to marry Rachel, only to be tricked by his father-in-law into marrying her older sister, Leah, because she was veiled. The groom lifts the veil to make sure she’s the right one! Then to the canopy where the Rabbi sang the blessings, followed by members of the family who shared the seven blessings, followed by the breaking of the cup as the groom stamps on it. There are so many explanations for this strange tradition, two of which are – that it represents the fragility of marriage and the other is that it we should never forget what caused the destruction of the two Temples. The official part over, the entire room swamps the dais and then it is food, food, and more food with loud music at which point the older guests leave and the youngsters dance the night away!

 

My friend Jill had a great week. We went to Jill’s former kibbutz (I think I told you last week) and then Jill met with her young friend Uriel, after which Rachel picked them up and headed off to the Kotel. Jill and I went to the marvellous Orchid Farm and Coffee Shop where we had a delicious brunch and I chose the Orchids that were a birthday present from my children’s father and his wife Barbara We then went on to the plant nursery (with Rachel) to choose the aforementioned Fejoya tree! On Wednesday morning Rachel and I took Jill to the airport for her journey back to the UK. I won’t say her journey home because this will always be her real home. On Thursday morning I returned to my Mind and Movement class in our community centre. It was very special and culminated in our guide, Gali, asking me, as a birthday treat, to choose the music for the final 20 minutes. The first song was an easy choice, the song that my Mother sang to me, I sang to Gideon and he in turn sings to his son Sammy, You Are My Sunshine, followed by All You Need is Love and Hey Jude, Sailing by Rod Stewart, If I Had a Hammer, We Shall Overcome which Gali understood were all songs of hope for a better world. I ended it with Aretha Franklin’s Respect, what we all pray for.

 

Tonight, we have 8 friends for Shabbat Dinner, if it all works out a four course meal, most of which is already in the fridge or ready to go. Everyone loves Zvi’s kiddush (blessing over the wine) and the bread before tucking in to what I hope will be a delicious meal with stimulating conversation. Tomorrow morning, we will be at a lecture in the next village by Or Heller, a brilliant and brave military and war reporter. After that we will celebrate our granddaughter Ella’s 13^th birthday, the wonderful Ella, daughter of Amiad and Noga. Yes, a crazy schedule but we love living life that way. I pray that we will never slow down.  

 

Songs. Did you know that song in Hebrew is the same as poem, both are Shir. Anyway, songs for today.

 

“Somewhere Over the Rainbow” was written by Harold Arlen with lyrics by Yip Harburg in 1939 for the movie Wizard of Oz. Written about the Jewish dreams, to become the symbol of the Jewish dream for a homeland.   https://youtu.be/PSZxmZmBfnU?si=pNcp65beVtN3V90u   

 

I’m sure that it’s a generational thing but Zvi and I both love Tom Lehrer. This one is so clever. National Brotherhood Week!  https://youtu.be/aIlJ8ZCs4jY?si=2qLzpGQbCwalgMLr  

 

Dreams and cynicism over….. Tribe of Brothers and Sisters sung by the much maligned Israeli Police (where are police not maligned) https://youtu.be/OwVhpiQzlUM?si=cIEJAd_oQ5W4d8-J

 

I wish you a peaceful Shabbat, without hate and the repercussions of lies. In this unpredictable world one thing is constant and that is love. If we love enough, teach love, speak love, reach out with love, we can make a small but significant dent in the sea of hate. Remember the power of one?

 

Shabbat Shalom and love, lots of it, from Jerusalem and our veranda

Sheila

--

If the media does not inform us we must inform the media

My Website http://www.theviewfrommyveranda.info/

Facebook      Sheila Silver Raviv
Involvement   http://www.impact-se.org/ 

Board of Peace

 

23^rd January, 2026

5 Shevat 5786

 

Shabbat Shalom to one and all. Today I am going to dive right in with the Trump plans for our area.

 

Trump is not the first to say it or do it. The famous phrase "Speak softly and carry a big stick" was popularized by U.S. President Theodore Roosevelt, who used it to describe his foreign policy approach of peaceful negotiation backed by the credible threat of military strength, embodying "Big Stick Diplomacy". While he presented it as a West African proverb, it's likely he coined the phrase, which became a cornerstone of his assertive but diplomatic international relations strategy. 

 

“The Board of Peace” sounds very far-fetched, perhaps illogical and yet for the first time the word peace has been used in relation to Gaza. Since its inception after WW2, the UN needed a replacement, an unbiased positive replacement and this may just be the answer. Perhaps, just perhaps the strange bedfellows put together by a President who doesn’t take no for an answer could just work. This week has brought ideas and solutions which have never been tried before and the principle in business of keeping your enemies close is not as crazy as it may first appear. Perhaps, just perhaps (I will use “perhaps” great deal in this missive) this President of the United States is sufficiently unpredictable as to worry our enemies into some form of submission. It will be a very expensive operation but the Gaza rehabilitation and reconstruction plan set forward by Jared Kushner (maybe not the Las Vegas part on the beach) could just be an answer, not the solution but one which brings hope. The demilitarisation of Hamas brings a tiny flicker of light to a deeply complex society. “Perhaps” is an awful lot better than the deep dismay and inevitability of continued warfare that we Israels have known in the past.

 

The second major “perhaps” is Iran. Iran was once ruled by a secular autocrat who, by the region’s grim standards, governed with relative restraint. Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, the last Shah of Iran, ruled until 1979, when he was overthrown in the Islamic Revolution led by Khomeini. The monarchy was abolished and replaced with the Islamic Republic, ushering in extreme Sharia rule whose consequences are plain today. President Jimmy Carter’s administration played a pivotal role in this outcome, shifting from public support, famously toasting the Shah in Tehran in 1977 and calling Iran an “island of stability”, to quietly “encouraging” his departure as the regime collapsed. What is too often overlooked is the extraordinary bravery of Iranians now protesting this theocracy. To demonstrate is to risk death, and it is believed that tens of thousands have been killed in recent months. Perhaps only the pressure of a leader unwilling to accept intimidation will help Iran reclaim its freedom and, one day, its former dignity.

 

Perhaps another “perhaps” we should hope and pray that President Trump’s team truly understands the constants shaping our region and the wider world. These are not isolated threats, but interconnected ones, extending far beyond the Middle East to include Russia and China, and rooted in ideologies that openly aspire to global dominance. Plans to undermine the United States were articulated years ago, openly and methodically, as documented in the material presented in Philadelphia. https://extremism.gwu.edu/sites/g/files/zaxdzs5746/files/2023-10/the-hamas-network-in-america.pdf  Hamas’s reach, we now know, extends well beyond Gaza, into towns and cities across the US, the UK, Australia, Canada, and much of Europe.

 

None of this is comfortable to acknowledge. Nor is it comfortable to say that, in this moment, an unpredictable, blunt, and even bullying president may be precisely what is required. I know—without a hint of perhaps—that many of you will recoil at this, convinced I have crossed some invisible line into cheerleading. That is not the point. This is not about affection or admiration. It is about urgency, realism, and resolve. And if we can move from endless “perhapses” to a clear-eyed “definite maybe”, that alone would feel like progress.

 

Another, less hopeful issue is the matter of Kurdistan, or the fragmented parts thereof. Don't look at this area through the lens of the west, look at it through the lens of it geopolitical influences. following the post-WWI collapse of the Ottoman Empire and the 1923 Treaty of Lausanne. With a population of 40-45 million, the Kurds are a major stateless nation, Kurdish homeland across four countries, Turkey, Iraq, Iran and Syria none of whom acknowledge, or are willing to relinquish their claim or give autonomy or sovereignty to the Kurds who are rising up in anger at the lack of international recognition of their plight.

 

And so to Israel. One issue now dominates the thoughts and conversations of Israelis, at least those who are proud of their country, prepared to serve it, defend it, and raise their children to do the same. It is the growing anger at a small but vocal sector that abuses Judaism itself, making declarations that verge on treason while blocking major roads into and out of Jerusalem with their demonstrations, preventing those who actually go out to work and pay their taxes, from earning a living, while chanting, “Better to die than serve in the IDF.”

 

For me, the deepest tragedy is not only the disruption or the rhetoric, but the damage this distortion of Judaism has done to young secular Israelis, pushing many further away from their heritage altogether. At the same time, we must also confront another hard truth: there exists a very small group, tiny, but destructive, of violent extremists who terrorise ordinary Palestinians whose only “crime” is living nearby.

These two pathologies are not equivalent, but they share a corrosive effect: both undermine the moral fabric of Israel, and both demand honesty, courage, and firm leadership to confront them; that leadership is sorely missing right now.

 

I would hate you to think that everything is doom and depression here. Nothing could be further from the truth. The restaurants and coffee shops are still full, wedding and function halls burst at the seams, their loud music annoying anyone within a kilometre! We enjoy life a fact that may seem strange when many countries have declared us “red” a no-go advisory, and the aforementioned  Iranians threaten to launch a bombardment of ballistic missiles if the USA threatens their regime.

 

My lovely friend Jill and her two daughters, Ilana and Rebecca were undaunted by the news (especially the BBC known in this house as the Biased Bigots Collective). They walked and wandered happily and freely in Jerusalem old and new, visiting Shouks (markets) Jewish and Arab, the Kotel, generally amazed at the freedom of all faiths and races. Of course, their visit to Mahane Yehuda included buying and eating (obviously) wonderful delicacies from the now famous Tzidkiyahu family stall right at the beginning of the market. Jill and I enjoyed everything at a somewhat more sedate gait, neither of us exactly running around! We had delicious Shakshuka in Motzeleh with Rachel, who loves Jill as I do and yesterday we set off for Kibbutz Be’erot Yitzchak  where Jill lived and learned for two years to see Tzippi and Eliyahu.

 

On Sunday night we were in Tel Aviv to celebrate the Golden Wedding of Harold and Rebecca Finger. They must be doing something right, or married in the cradle, because they both look amazing!!!

 

I nearly missed telling you the sheer joy of being with my amazing son Gideon who came back for a few days, this time relaxing and resting in an Airbnb in Tel Aviv, a well earned rest, given with love by his incredible wife Stephanie.

 

Now for the best part. As I wrote last week, I am now 80 years old and still going strong. Unwilling to allow anything to stop me. What I am about to tell you was the height of my achievements. I organised my own birthday party, keeping its contents basically secret from everyone except Rachel without whose help I couldn’t have managed. Please please, don’t be cross if you were not on the list of invitees, I was limited in my numbers. So let me tell you about it. The event was appropriately held in the events hall in Shalva, my home from home. As people walked in, they saw a big sign announcing the party with a photo of me as a baby on it, then to the stand with all sorts of gifts for them, the best of all were Rachel’s “seed bombs”. Everything related to my love of gardening. As people walked into the room they were greeted with the sight of gold and white balloons on each table and the exquisite violin of Sasha, aka Alexandra Babakhanov, a beautiful and highly talented dear friend who played as they mingled and then ate from the delicious buffet and great wines including Yossi’s wine called Blind Taste, explanation to follow. A few people asked to speak but one I insisted that she speak, my Kinneret Chaya. I felt so proud and overwhelmed by the words of Gaby Hirsch, Marcus Sheff, Gideon (Israelis were staggered by his prowess and eloquence), Zvi’s son Leor, my Zvi, our grandchildren all of those in Israel. Yosef, Amit, Tomer, Sheli, Gili, Ayala, Ori, Yuval, Ella and Yonatan, stood in front of my friends and said beautiful things, Zvi, Shaiela, Ehud, Ronit sang my two favourite songs (Lelechet Shevi Achariich and of course Al Kol Eleh) accompanied by Sasha. Then Kinneret Chaya told of her/our story; of her injuries and recovery and our deep friendship including many tears and laughter. She ended it with words I have been waiting to hear since the 30^th of March 2002, she had decided that she wanted us to write a book taking the constant reports of her progress from near death to mother of four. Watch this space.

 

The incredible number of blessings and messages that I received for my birthday left me dumbfounded, or as one says in the UK, gobsmacked! The donations to Dr Dan’s Room have enabled even more activities and programmes and honour the memory of a very special man. Messages sent to Rachel rady to surprise me on my birthday ay came from my siblings, friends and family and very special ones from my daughter-in-law and granddaughter in NYC. Callie did a beautiful drawing! I was deeply moved by Kalman Samuels’ and the video he made for my birthday including Dr Dan’s Room.  https://youtu.be/ILotk4B86nw?si=GQPW7NPGkzzWfGbf

 

I promised you the explanation of Yossi’s wines, the story of Yossi Samuel, son of Kalman and Malki, founders of Shalva. Yossi, despite being blind and deaf communicates with presidents, film stars and Prime Ministers and is a fully fledged sommelier! This video is long but watching it one understands that even with the most extreme of tragedies, a beautiful place, a refuge and a beautiful man can emerge. https://youtu.be/TKbN5d3qUTQ?si=z45tdQmuqNyGNzIh

 

Music, beautiful music, is what we need in our lives to guide us through the best and worst of times.

 

My first choice, as you can imagine, is one of Sasha’s favourites, playing as she stands in the vineyards in the South . https://youtu.be/_c_u5uo6RZs?si=fvDLygDJOr2Kj7Kw

 

The next song, the beginning of an incredible ride of fame for the Shalva Band. A Million Dreams could well be an anthem for everyone who refuses to just sit back and allow their fate to be decided by others. https://youtu.be/4HWaldJt5Bc?si=vvrEe-3n6gcsjSzm

 

Valerie Hamati and Tamir Greenberg sang together in the finals of the choice for Israel’s Eurovision Song Contest. They didn’t win, although I adored them. Valerie sang in Arabic, Hebrew and English and Tamir Hebrew and English. Halleluyah as you have never heard it before.  https://youtu.be/irEpp0NsgkI?si=pEqgEnK_mcj-LWue

 

That’s it folks! Jill and I are off to see Rachel and family, to attempt to push my way through the masses to reach the challot in Nehama Bakeries. I don’t have to cook today since Amiad decided that I shouldn’t prepare for the family after a very busy but fabulous week.

 

I know there are things I didn’t get to this week but I don’t want to tire you out before Shabbat!!

 

If I have anything to add before Shabbat it is – Don’t refuse to accept ideas that may come from a source that you may dislike. One doesn’t have to love the source to accept a chance of hope in a hopeless situation. Of course, that covers life in general, but especially our confused and angry world of today. Open your minds to every train of thought hat brings hope to us, to others and to those who until now thought their lives were not worth living. As John Lennon said “All You Need Is Love” It may sound banal but, hey, life is banal without it!

 

Shabbat Shalom from beautiful Jerusalem, the ever breathtaking sight from our Veranda.

 

Sheila