Wednesday, 18 March 2026

Midweek Update

 

18th March 2026

 

Mid-week update

 

The Canary in the coal mine – an early warning; before technology, a canary was taken into the coal mine as an early warning of coal gas which would kill miners.

 

In case it has not yet dawned on people, this is not just our story, it is yours as well. Israel is the canary in the coal mine, the early warning too many choose to ignore. But we are not passive, not sitting ducks or any other unfortunate fowl; we are, if anything, the rare bird that fights back, fiercely, to defend herself.

 

I began writing this just after midnight, having managed barely an hour’s sleep, sitting with Zvi in our mamad in relative comfort while Iran once again attempts to advance its caliphate ambitions by firing at whoever happens to be in range — and let us be clear, it is not only Jews. Earlier in the day, while Rachel and Yosef were with us, the first time in a month, a missile carrying a cluster warhead was intercepted, though shrapnel fell in Abu Ghosh. Miraculously, no one was hurt. Then, soon after falling asleep came another hatra’a, that sharp warning on the phone, followed almost immediately by the siren. Another missile. Then another. Three in quick succession, all cluster warheads. One cannot help but wonder what Jeremy Bowen of the BBC or their counterparts at CNN might say if it were their own families running for shelter, crouching at the side of the road, or huddled in a safe room. What language would they use if it were London or New York under fire?

 

Sometime towards the early hours we were released and returned to bed, knowing it was only an interlude.

 

Morning brought the kind of news that lands heavily and stays. A couple in their seventies in Ramat Gan were killed by shrapnel from a cluster munition; whether they failed to close the door of their mamad or did not reach it in time is ultimately beside the point. A neighbour, realising that their building had been hit, went to check on them and found the apartment destroyed, the safe room door open.

 

And in the north — Nahariya, Kfar Blum, Majdal Shams — every town, village and kibbutz has been under relentless fire from Hezbollah. Jews, Christians, Druze, Bedouin, Circassians — it makes no difference. For nineteen days now, the rockets have fallen indiscriminately, and last night was among the worst. Of course, the reports in most countries only talk about the IDF fighting the poor Lebanese. Understand, we have no fight with the Lebanese, only with Hezb-Allah.

 

The North, the soldiers who protect us and the women, like Ora Hatan from the moshav of Shtoolah, who spend their waking hours preparing warm and loving food for the soldiers when they come out for a short break. These women epitomise our society. Ora doesn’t have a mamad and the local shelter is too far away so the morning programme on Channell 13 decided to ask for a company to volunteer to donate a “migunit” shelter for her. Diana and her company came through to the tears of gratitude from Ora. What were Ora’s first words? “The government didn’t do anything for me but private people, a private company came to my rescue. I want everyone in your company to come and I will cook them a real Kurdish meal.”

 

This is what it means to live here: to move between the ordinary and the unthinkable in the space of minutes, to hold fear and resilience in the same breath, and to understand, perhaps more clearly than most, that what begins here rarely ends here.

 

Another missile, also a cluster, and 07:50 found us back in the mamad. It’s over again and we will shower, dress and go about our business. This morning we are going to the local shopping mall to buy gifts for our Seder night (the first night of Passover and Jesus’ Last Supper). We are expecting a much smaller Seder night this year, only 16 diners, but I have my doubts that family will be able to come if the missiles are still flying.

 

I’ll see you on Friday morning as always. With love, as always, from our veranda and the view of Jerusalem that after 35 years, still takes my breath away

Sheila

 

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