A Stronger Israel Means All Serve, All Belong
On October 7th, when so many of our illusions about security and stability were shattered, one man stood tall. Ibrahim Kharuba, a 39-year-old Muslim Arab tracker from Maghar, fought with everything he had to defend his fellow soldiers at the Nahal Oz outpost. He gave his life shielding others. His final words speak louder than most speeches: “Defending you was the greatest honor of my life.”

Ibrahim’s story is more than heroic. It points toward the future we must build in this land. A future where our national identity is not divided by background, belief, or birthplace but strengthened through them. Where the bonds between us are not imagined or idealized, but built with care, commitment, and the willingness to show up for each other.
We live in a country full of contradictions. Jewish and Arab. Secular and religious. Veteran and newcomer. And yet, the deeper story of Israel has never been about being the same. It has always been about doing the hard, sacred work of being together. Not in spite of our differences, but through them.
To build that kind of future, the effort has to come from both directions.
The government must create the conditions for a revitalized Israeli identity. It must foster spaces where shared national experiences can take root. National service for everyone, with no exceptions, can be one of those foundations. A moment in every young person’s life when they come to see themselves not only as part of a community, but also as part of a country. One country. Ours.
But it will never work if the burden of securing our future continues to rest only on some and not on all. A shared society cannot be built on unequal sacrifice. True solidarity begins when everyone carries the weight together.
At the same time, we cannot afford to wait for the government to lead. If we wait for policy to shape our future, we may find ourselves waiting forever. The real work starts in our homes, in our schools, and in the everyday ways we speak about one another. It begins when we choose to tell a different story. One rooted in dignity, curiosity, and belonging.
We need to raise children who do not just tolerate those different from them, but who find joy in being part of a shared experience. Something larger than themselves. Something that matters.
We owe that to each other. We owe that to Ibrahim.
The future of Israel will not be written only by those who share a background, or a set of rituals. It will be written by those who choose to be present for one another.
If we want a stronger, more unified Israel, then we must start building it. Not only in policy or programs, but also in spirit and in story.
Let the story of Ibrahim Kharuba be one of the foundations.