Yesterday, My Day Was Like None Other - Until Today - My last 48 Hours in Israel.
December 20, 2023 - Issue #37
The day before yesterday I left the seacoast town of Nahariya, about six miles from Lebanon. My destination was Kiryat Shmona—near the northernmost tip of Israel and less than two miles from Lebanon. Their, I met with two different mayors to learn more about the difficulties they now face.
The first was the Mayor of the Upper Galilee Regional Council, Giora Salz, and much of his staff. Outside, seemingly close by, I heard the booms of Israeli artillery firing shells into Lebanon. Mayor Salz explained that the 29 Kibbutzim under his guidance were divided into three groups. The first, within two kilometers of the border, were evacuated first, followed by the second group, somewhat farther back, several days later. Residents in the third group remain in place, through many have voluntarily left.
Part of his presentation was a video. In it, I saw what they face. It was a video prepared by Hezbollah showing it firing an antitank missile that hit a building on Kibbutz Manara’s grounds. Then I saw the Kibbutz’s rapid reaction force running from tree to tree, all from the scope of a Hezbollah terrorist’s weapon. Hezbollah’s purpose was clear, to sow terror by showing they could and would at times destroy anything within their line-of-sight from even miles away. During that presentation, I learned a favorite location of mine was no more—the Fortress of the People located at Kibbutz Misgav Am—also struck by a rocket.
The Regional Council put much effort into putting the members of each kibbutz into the same hotel to ensure their continuity as a community. A couple days before, I had visited Hotel Dan Carmel in Haifa where the 500 members of Kibbutz Dan had been evacuated. There, I spent almost two hours with Sam and Haviva, friends who I interviewed years before for my book Living in Heaven, Coping with Hell. Sam is now the Kibbutz’s spokesperson. He explained that despite many annoyances, inconveniences, and difficulties, things are going as well as could be expected. Children are now enrolled in schools in Haifa—elementary age together in one class, and older children broken up into Haifa’s regular population. While we spoke, children buzzed around the room and outside, as did cats and dogs. Not the usual thing for a 5 star luxury hotel now laughingly called by Sam—”Kibbutz Dan Carmel.” Still, all is not rosy. Whole families share one hotel room and have done so for two months with no end in sight. And, there is this this: Many fear going back as long as the danger from Hezbollah remains. The status quo of October 6 is not an option for them.
My next meeting was with the Mayor of Kiryat Shmona, Avichai Stern. I met him and his assistants in a concrete bunker that serves as the city’s control room in an emergency. Three huge screens covered one wall, a huge old wooden table was in the middle, and communication equipment was on one side. While we were talking, news of a drone infiltration or rocket hit nearby—I’m not sure which—blared from the radio. This mayoral meeting was far more depressing than the first. Kiryat Shmona is a town of 23,000 souls. With little warning, Israel’s national government ordered the Mayor to evacuate the city. The problem was that previously the government had told him that Kiryat Shmona would not be evacuated. Thus right or wrong, they had done no planning to do so. Even worse, because most other regions close to the border had already been evacuated, the best locations away from the border had been taken. Whereas, the Upper Galilee Regional Council had succeeded in keeping communities together, the Mayor had no chance to do so. As a result, his people are scattered in more than 200 locations around the country, including fifty in the hotel I stayed at in Tel Aviv. This has made for a shit-show. Kosher religious people were sent to secular locations, people with wheel chairs to places inaccessible for them, and even laundry became a problem. The city purchased 200 washing machines to place in hotels because the hotels would only wash sheets not clothing.
I could go on and on with the issues—and I will in later newsletters—but I have too much to get to in this article.
My next stop, after a brief meeting with a news reporter, was to Kibbutz Dan (the home of Sam and Aviva mentioned above). Kibbutz Dan is one of my favorite places in northern Israel. It is beautiful, historical, and always tranquil. Not now. Driving in, I was greeted by roadblocks, concrete walls, and sandbags. Soldiers with long guns patrolled everywhere. I, and my friend Sarit Zehavi, pulled over to chat with a couple soldiers. After speaking for a moment another came running up. He told us to move to the other side of the concrete barrier because where we stood was within range and line-of-sight of Hezbollah’s weaponry. His concern was not theoretical, Hezbollah’s rockets have struck the Kibbutz repeatedly during the last two months.
Our conversation continued over coffee while sitting on plastic chairs commandeered weeks before from the pool deck. What I learned both uplifted and disturbed me. The soldiers are highly motivated, itching to get at it with Hezbollah and willing to risk their lives for a cause that matters to them—the ability to return to their prior lives in what they consider paradise. But one, so motivated himself, is concerned for his wife. She has to manage by herself four children age one to nine in a hotel room while he is on duty at the Kibbutz. When he comes back on off days, that makes six of them. She, very understandably, wants change. And even if things were to end as they are today, she does not want to return home to Kibbutz Dan. It’s not the rockets, the soldier explained. That they can deal with. It is the horror of what Hamas did on October 7 and the certainty that Hezbollah has the capability and intent to do the same.
From there, I headed to a nearby Moshav to visit with Gideon Harari—a real live tough guy. Gideon was incredibly nice, but his background served notice he is not to be trifled with. Gideon was a company commander in Golani, one of the toughest units in Israel’s army. He then spent twelve years in human intelligence—often interrogating prisoners. Later, he served in many other roles including an attempted rescue of a missing person in South America. We sat down to talk on his patio while my friend, Sarit, was being interviewed by Zoom by Channel Seven.
Suddenly, I heard super-loud, jarring booms. First one, then two, then three. Gideon didn’t move but I admit to a startled shrug precipitated by the third explosion. The rockets kept coming, Iron Dome kept intercepting, and once in a while the character of the noise suggested explosions in local fields. All this occurred perhaps a couple kilometers away. In fact, we later learned, that where we sat at Kibbutz Dan thirty minutes before would have given us a birds-eye-view. The thing is, we frankly had no idea where those rockets were going to land. The first ones had’n hit us but that was no guarantee for the next one and the next. And due to our proximity to Lebanon, there was no warning time. But my new friend Gideon just sat there nonplussed and continued to converse with me. After looking up at the canvas roof over our heads, I decided what the hell, and . And so we sat there, like partook in the conversation as if we were old friends, while fifteen to twenty explosions rocked around us. And then it was over—like a springtime thunderstorm. To say it was surreal does not come close to doing it justice.
Sarit and I drove away not shaken, but a bit stirred. Gideon had advised us to head south rather than take the faster route west through Kiryat Shmona, because there might be more rockets fired there (which there were). And so, Sarit and I quietly spoke until her phone rang. It was a reporter wanting to interview her over the phone. The first question asked was of her reaction to UNIFIL’s claim that it had brought twenty years of peace to the region.
I thought Sarit was going to hit the roof! But she answered calmly and professionally why that was a bunch of crap. As for me, I could barely restrain myself from uttering a nasty response.
The next day (today) I headed south. There, I had several meetings but two stand out. The first was at Kfar Aza—a mile from Gaza—where some of the worst atrocities of the war occurred. Here, hundreds of savages poured into the Kibbutz—first by rigged-up aerial contraptions that allowed them to soar over the fence and then by ground forces racing across the flat fields and then through breaches in the Kibbutz’s defenses. They slaughtered people as they were waking up, set ambushes, and went to designated houses to kill chosen ones and then everyone else they could. Here were the homes of two of the three captives tragically and accidently killed by the IDF. Here were burned out buildings, deep pitting caused by hand grenades and hand-held rockets, and bullet holes everywhere. Here were lives devastated and homes desecrated. All to such a degree that I don’t know if anyone could now emotionally endure returning. Here, was a women returning to gather a few personal things while we were there. Her boyfriend had lost his life jumping on a grenade to save her.
Even before I got to Kibbutz Aza my mood had been somber, almost depressed. I kept thinking about how Hezbollah had won the first round in the north without little effort. Residents there had been pushed back, many expressing their lack of desire to return. Families were being torn apart. Dreams destroyed. And there was no relief in sight. Will Israel endure the cost and hardship of taking the steps necessary to return normality to the region? Will the international community stand for Israel doing what it must do? And if not, what will be the price? Loss of the north? Loss of confidence and vitality? And loss of the next line of communities as Hezbollah, licking its chops, pushes forward. Not to mention the loss of any deterrence leaving Israel at the mercy of Iran and others who wish to take more bites out of its hide until it collapses.
So this was not a good time for me to see to Kibbutz Aza. But no time would be. Nevertheless, my mood worsened while I was there. The IDF ordered us to wear flak jackets and helmets. They were fine for physical protection for any missiles Hamas might fling our way, but not so good for emotional comfort. I must confess, very little bothers me. Sometimes, referring to my emotive reactions, my wife calls me a stone. But not this day. I felt weak kneed at times, sweaty, and even shaky. I just couldn’t believe what I was seeing and even more, what I was envisioning. I kept thinking about those several hours that terror ran loose there while the people huddled in their safe rooms. Against Hamas’ weaponry, those people only had pistols, and of those there where very few and most only had fifteen bullets. After they fired those, there was nothing else to fight with. The long guns were locked-up in the armory and those that tried to get them were mowed down.
When I left the Kibbutz I was for the most part silent.
Later in the day, I listened to another lecture punctuated by outgoing artillery shells, as had been the case at Kibbutz Aza too. But I couldn’t expel the feeling of despair, made worse by some of the damage I saw and stories I heard when we traveled through Sderot.
But then, my mood lifted. We visited an an IDF special forces unit base. Because I had to sign an NDA, I cannot speak much about it. But suffice it to say, the mood of the men and women there was unbelievable and uplifting. The young soldiers of Israel are determined and prepared to fight for their nation. Their morale is incredibly high. And for all those naysayers that think Israel does not act to save civilian casualties, I saw by video exactly what they do, the problems presented by urban combat, and the technical solutions they have devised. Every house must be cleared. It takes a team to do so, and often several hours to clear one house. Extraordinary lengths are taken to avoid civilian Gazan casualties while also doing their best to save soldiers’ lives. That is why it is taking so long. A city block can take days.
These are some of the finest, clear-eyed young people I have ever met. I’m proud of them and determined that if they are willing to put their lives on the line for their country, the least I can do is do what I can to help.
It was after leaving them that I realized what causes despair in difficult times. It is not the reality of the situation alone, it is inaction and despondency. But having a mission, and purpose is the antidote. Their mission is to fight the kinetic war. Ours is to tirelessly pursue victory in the information space.
Tomorrow, I leave Israel ready to do battle.
Over the last few days, I have had the good fortune of having two of my articles published. here are the links and titles:
Watching the images of death —Jewish News Syndicate
Hezbollah: Its Origin, Growth, and Capability —Alma Research and Education Center
Alma Weekly update: Israel at War – December 20th, 2023, 8:00 PM Israel time
War is Accelerating Haredi Integration into the Israeli Mainstream - Editorial—JPost Editorial—Written for the Jerusalem Post—December 18, 2023
Israelis in North Face Barrage of Hezbollah Rockets, Guided Missiles—Written by Ashkenazi/Walla for the Jerusalem Post—December 18, 2023.
The Northern Arena – Position Paper and Key Insights So Far—Written by Sarit Zehavi and Tal Beeri for Alma Education and Research Center—December 17, 2023.
Israel’s Grim Future: Attrition on All Fronts—Written by Benny Morris for Quillette—December 16, 2023.
116 Rockets Fired at Israel From Humanitarian Zone in Gaza—Foundation for Defense of Democracies Flash Brief—December 14, 2023
Israel’s Struggle with Hezbollah—A War Without End is now available in eBook and hardback format on Amazon and IngramSpark. This compelling narrative explores Hezbollah’s origins and cancerous growth, traces Israel’s response, and reveals Israel’s present readiness to meet Hezbollah’s challenge.
Cliff Sobin
Important Link—Alma Research and Education Center: Understanding the Security Challenges on Israel’s Northern Border
Thank you for sharing these details of how life reeally is for Israelis who daily face the existential threat of Hezbollah. Keep up your work. It’s truly important.