From Horror to Faith Forging a New Israeli Identity


Nothing was ready, not our uniforms and not our tanks. I was trained as a driver. No one knew what was happening. The warehouse lacked the amount of supplies needed for the troops, and the tanks hadn’t been serviced for months. The scene was like the Machane Yehuda Market on Friday morning. Everyone shouted out what he needed. Instead of bananas and strawberries, soldiers traded with each other for rockets, grenades, and rifles.”

You would not be alone in thinking that the above is an eyewitness report of the happenings of October 7th. It is, rather, an account by Rabbi Elchanan Ben Nun during a September 2023 interview, describing what he experienced on the first day of the 1973 Yom Kippur War. But the chaos on the military front on October 7th, 2023 – 50 years, almost to the day, later – was just as great. 

Describing his experience on the morning of the October 7th massacre, Guy Itzhaki, a decorated war veteran, said in an Aish.com interview, that he had read a lot of history books about the Yom Kippur War, but this was the first time in his life that he felt he was watching a scene from it before his own eyes. “People were in shock. In those chaotic early hours, there was much confusion. The scale of the attack, the number of infiltrations, the fate of the border communities – everything was fragmented, contradictory, or unknown.”

The IDF, unprepared for a sudden all-out war, called up 200,000 reservists in the hours and days after the massacre – and was overwhelmed when more than 300,000 reported for duty. They simply didn’t have enough equipment to go round.

At the same time, thousands of Israeli families, from both the north and the south, had to be hastily evacuated from the most dangerous combat zones and were hosted in private homes or placed in hotels.

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Israel is a small, close-knit country. By October 8th, civilians in Israel were sending cooked food and supply packages to the front lines, and some Israeli businesses shut down for weeks or months to ensure that the soldiers had fresh, tasty food. Over 100 restaurants in Tel Aviv were able to get emergency kashrut certificates so they could provide food to all of the chayalim, including those who kept strictly kosher. Where I live, in Beit Shemesh, Aroma Espresso Bar became the headquarters for making up to 12,000 sandwiches a day. The owner insisted on doing this on his own tab, refusing to accept donations.

All over the world, too, individuals and organizations sprang to action, raising money to send the basic essential gear, including ceramic combat vests, better helmets, and other sundry supplies that soldiers need in the field. And of course, in addition to money raised and supplies sent from abroad, many foreign volunteers came to help. This chesed did not go unnoticed and contributed to achdut (unity) and ahavat chinam (love) across the country. 

As in the terrible Yom Kippur War and, now, in the ongoing Gaza one, nearly everyone knows at least one person who has been killed or seriously wounded – if not in their own family, then a neighbor, a friend, or colleague. I personally had ties with grieving families and with friends of several soldiers who have been killed in combat, including Daniel Perez, grandson of my friend Gail Perez, and Eyal Twito, a young, religious Shnat Sherut volunteer who had worked in Baltimore in educational settings. Many in the Baltimore community became very close to him, including my daughter and son-in-law, Chana Leah and Motti Margalit, who were one of his host families. He had become like an adopted son to them. 

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As the months pass, though, another phenomenon, like one that happened after the Yom Kippur War, has come to the fore. Back then, many in Israeli society experienced a spiritual awakening. According to Tablet Magazine, the baal teshuva movement began in Israel in the 1960s, but “after the Yom Kippur War, the trend in Israel grew. After a few celebrities, like filmmaker Uri Zohar, and a few prominent scientists, such as chemistry professor Doron Aurbach and mathematician Eliyahu Rips, turned ultra-Orthodox, it became a flood.”

Many of the newly religious enrolled in yeshivas and seminaries established just a few years earlier for those with little or no background. Many succeeded in becoming shomrei mitzvot, but it wasn’t always easy or even possible to integrate fully into the established frum population for various reasons. Yonoson Rosenblum, in a December 2019 Mishpacha article, entitled “Kiruv without Consideration of Integration Is Irresponsible,” wrote, “Statistically, children of baalei teshuva constitute a disproportionate share of the dropouts from Orthodox life.”

 Today, too, there is a spiritual response to events. But the teshuva taking place in Israel today seems to be a more organic, grassroots movement. There are many established organizations already set up for them, but the people, particularly the youth, are seeking something different. In Israel, where the calendar revolves around the Jewish lifecycle and Jewishness is in the air, many feel more confident to jump in and do more on their own. Established organizations are seeing the new enthusiasm as people are running towards them without the need for “outreach.” 

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Sivan Rahav-Meir, popular author, journalist and international speaker, says this is a global phenomenon. She likes to refer to those who had a wake-up call by the attack as “October 8th Jews,” whose “Jewish spark was ignited in the wake of recent events.”

In the months prior to October 7th, Israeli society seemed fractured beyond repair, with huge demonstrations over many religious and political issues. After that terrible day, the fear, shock, trauma, and the pain of grief affected everyone. But along with it came a determination to defeat our barbarous enemy. 

Although it seems we are now once again “on track” to becoming as divided as before, arguing vehemently about politics and important divisive issues, Sivan Rahav-Meir feels this is less important than the spiritual trend in the country. She says that, from the tragedy, there has emerged a sense of “moral clarity, a thirst for Torah knowledge, and the desire to become ‘more Jewish’ creating a new, healthier unity.” She says, “Unity is not the solution. Torah is the solution.” 

Social media has snowballed this trend. Videos abound of concerts where young secular and religious audiences listen and sing along with popular Israeli performers. And these performers are singing words of prayer, quotes from Jewish texts, praise of G-d, and the concept of netzach Yisrael. The words am Yisrael chai are repeated with great enthusiasm, almost like a national anthem.

I believe the influence of this music cannot be overemphasized. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks describes music in his article, Music: Language of the Soul. “There is an inner connection between music and the spirit. When language aspires to the transcendent and the soul longs to break free of the gravitational pull of the earth, it modulates into song…. Words are the language of the mind. Music is the language of the soul. So when we seek to express or evoke emotion we turn to melody.

“Faith is more like music than science,” he continues. “Science analyses, music integrates. And as music connects note to note, so faith connects episode to episode, life to life, age to age in a timeless melody that breaks into time…. Our generation needs new songs so that we too can sing joyously to G-d as our ancestors did at that moment of transfiguration when they crossed the Red Sea and emerged on the other side, free at last. When the soul sings, the spirit soars.”

Sivan Rahav-Meir told me, “People are moving faster. In the past, it took you two or three years to learn and understand your Jewish soul. Now in a week, people come and say, ‘I want this, I want that.’ It’s not just the number of people, it’s also the speed. This has become a trend everywhere in Israel. The songs are all about G-d. People are wearing tzitzit and putting on a kippa. You see in the way they speak. G-d has become an issue that is both popular and normal. You see it at Slichot at the Kotel; people are coming to the Kotel much more. The mikvah ladies testify that family purity has increased. Sometimes, it seems like a contradiction. You wear this but you come to the mikvah? You don’t keep Shabbat but you daven Mincha? You don’t have a kippa but you have tzitzit? What’s going on here? It’s a complicated era, I think that for Orthodox people, it’s important not to be confused because we are supposed to be role models here. We should be uplifting these people with us and inspiring them and ourselves.”

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According to Yonoson Rosenblum, “A guest on Yinon Magal’s popular ‘The Patriots’ show recently described the hottest trend among Israeli youth as becoming shomer Shabbat and attributed that to the stories of the returning hostages: ‘I’m talking about tens of thousands of teens. What happened is that an entire generation of Israelis has grown up ignorant.... And then the October 7th massacre happened. And they saw all the hostages returning and speaking about Hashem. It’s affecting everyone!’”

This is not a short-lived phenomenon but a growing trend throughout Israel. Florit Shoihet writes in The Jewish Chronicle, “Recent surveys, social media trends, pop songs, and increased public participation in religious activities indicate that Israeli Jewish society has undergone a collective shift towards religion. As the state and the army appeared to have failed the people, many found G-d….”

This does not mean that everyone who felt G-d’s presence have become or plans to be totally observant, although many are on that path. What it does signify is that more Israelis want to be more Jewish and not simply identify as Israeli. As Rabbi Shlomo Porter, zt”l, used to say, “Judaism is not an all-or-nothing religion. Something is better than nothing.” And of course something usually leads to more.

Rabbi David Stav, chair of the Tzohar Rabbinical Organization, also describes these shifts: “We live in a fascinating era, and it is hard to underestimate its significance. There are indications for a Jewish awakening, not necessarily a religious one. It is not a mass movement to return to a fully religious lifestyle but a will to adopt some of the Jewish religious customs and a more open attitude toward Jewish texts and songs. It is a gentle process, and I believe that in the following years, Israeli society will develop a new Jewish-Israeli identity.”

Sivan Rahav-Meir says, “The day after the October 7th massacre, people changed and realized that it’s not just Hamas or a physical effect, rather there is a spiritual message here and there’s moral clarity in the air. People are asking themselves the deepest questions. Who am I? Why is ultimate evil always after me, one generation after the other?

“People who, until then, only identified as Israeli, like citizens of any other country would identify themselves as French or Russian or American, found themselves questioning,” she continues. “They are asking, ‘Now we do have a Jewish state, so what’s the problem? Why can’t we just live here as normal people? Are we normal? What is Judaism? What am I supposed to do with it?’ The operative word here is tachlis, practical things. People want to do things. They don’t just want to think about their Judaism. They want to be more Jewish, to do more mitzvot, to take upon themselves more things.”

Dr Rachel Werczberger, an anthropologist of religion studying contemporary Jewish life, says that, although former polls indicated that nearly 65% of Israelis defined themselves as secular or traditional who are not so religious, “these categories are not relevant anymore, and perhaps never were accurate as they were relying on modern secular and Christian ideas. The Israeli majority has never been really secular; some ‘secular’ individuals believe in G-d, while others practice some traditions to stay connected to the mainstream culture.” 

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I certainly find this to be true. When I began writing this article, I approached random young people who didn’t appear religious, I found that when you scratch the surface, they were all believers in G-d, and some of them were completely or partially shomer Shabbat. One girl said, “Just because I dress like this doesn’t mean I am not shomer Shabbat.” She came from a shomer Shabbat family and told me she prays every day.

 Perhaps if I had gone to some areas of Tel Aviv or Haifa, I could have found more strident atheists, but in the “non-religious” hangouts in Beit Shemesh and Jerusalem, it seems impossible to find a “non-believer” who doesn’t feel connected and proud of his or her heritage.

Rabbi Stav adds, “The label ‘religious’ until October 7th was social. But now we are facing a period in which we will meet many non-religious yet very Jewish individuals who will seem completely secular – men without yarmulkes and women with short shorts – but their identity will be more traditional and Jewish.”

Rahav-Meir is involved in many ongoing efforts to encourage shmirat mitzvot. She says that, although the rest of the world mainly hears news about conflicts in Israel regarding Netanyahu’s trial or politics or the chareidim, the real headlines should be about the deeper messages. “People are coming back home. ‘Bring Them Back Home’ is not just a slogan for the hostages. It’s the main way to describe the Jewish world right now. We all want to come back home. Jews want to have more Shabbat, more tzitzit, more hafrashat challah, more Torah learning, more mikvah, more Judaism,” she says. She sees it in many of the projects she is involved in. She wrote many bestselling books before the war, but the publication of her latest book, Birkat HaShachar, a guide to the blessings recited in the morning, has elicited much greater public reaction and sold many more books. 

“People are hungry and thirsty for Birkat Hashachar. How do you start your day? If you already say it, you want to say it with more kavanah. If you don’t have this morning routine, you want to add it into your life.”

One project she is involved with is the organization Kesher Yehudi. She goes to their Shabbatot all the time and feels privileged to be part of the project, led by founder Rabbanit Tzili Schneider. They host the families of the hostages along with Nova survivors and also just ordinary Israelis, who all come and want to keep Shabbat together. “It’s amazing to see how people are wanting to keep Shabbat with no coercion, no budget.” 

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According to Yonoson Rosenblum, “In addition to the anecdotal evidence, there is quantitative support of this hisorerus (awakening) as well. Kesher Yehudi, for instance, has added 3,000 pairs of chavrusas over the past two years – and as only one of a number of organizations, including Ayelet HaShachar, involved in creating these partnerships. Kesher Yehudi works with over 30 pre-army-induction academies (mechinot), in which each student has a chavrusa over the course of the year prior to induction and spends at least one Shabbos in a chareidi neighborhood with their chavrusa’s family. In the last two years, the number of graduates continuing with their chavrusas even after induction or otherwise involved in mitzvah observance has jumped greatly.”

Rosenblum says, “The most remarkable expression of newfound religious identity comes from the hostages. They had no access to outside sources of information, and their growth wasn’t spurred by any external inspiration, though it’s fascinating how many of the captives who held fiercely to their Jewish identity and practice in captivity had parents who were on a parallel religious journey. For the last year, the Israeli public has been bombarded with stories of the sacrifices made by hostages to preserve their Jewish identity. And the impact has been enormous.”

He reports that, of the survivors who have been participating in Kesher Yehudi events over the past year and a half, 60 have become fully shomer Shabbos, and many others have committed to different aspects of Shabbos observance or learning with chavrusas.

Rahav-Meir continues writing more books. One of them is about practical ways to help people keep Shabbat or to add more Shabbat into our lives. “Wherever I go, all over Israel, people are interested, baruch Hashem. Maybe that’s the real tikkun. We came back here in 1948. Zionism developed without Judaism, and now we are understanding the message and doing it in a better way. So yes, there is politics and, unfortunately, a huge campaign against the chareidim and sometimes against the settlers. However, we are moving in the right direction, and that’s what the prophets told us would happen, and now it’s happening. Not just Chabad and not just Aish or any other outreach organizations. It’s up to all of us. We can all, as individuals, be part of this project. We don’t have to create more organizations. Just be a proud, engaged, caring Jew. That’s it.” 



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