A Tribute to an Israeli Hero

Israel is a country full of heroes.

Some of their names are known around the world. Many others will never be known at all.

There are the heroes who rescued hostages from captivity, the people who gathered intelligence about Iran’s nuclear program, the people who helped locate hostages, and the intelligence officers whose work will probably remain classified for decades. There were those who tracked down Adolf Eichmann and brought him to Israel to face justice, and there have been countless men and women who participated in operations whose details we may never hear.

There are the people who have led Israel throughout the years since its rebirth in 1948, presidents, prime ministers, ministers and military commanders who carried responsibilities that most of us can hardly imagine.

There are the soldiers who fought for their homeland, those who were injured defending it and those who never returned home.

There are the rescue teams who travel across the world when disaster strikes, digging through the ruins after earthquakes, helping communities after floods and bringing Israeli knowledge, technology and humanity wherever they are needed.

There were the heroes of Entebbe, who flew thousands of kilometers to rescue Jewish and Israeli hostages when almost everyone else considered the mission impossible.

There were those who had to deal with the horrific aftermath of the Munich Olympics massacre.

And there are the people whose heroism is much quieter.

The ZAKA volunteers who walk into scenes most of us would not be able to look at, because even in death every human being deserves dignity.

Doctors, nurses and medical organizations treating people regardless of where they come from.

Israelis who helped bring Syrians wounded during the civil war across the border for treatment in Israeli hospitals, and Israelis involved in providing medical treatment to Gazans.

Farmers who continue working while rockets are flying.

Teachers who try to give children normality during war.

Volunteers who cook meals, collect equipment, drive across the country and help soldiers and displaced families without ever posting a photograph of themselves doing it.

And perhaps among Israel’s greatest heroes are the parents who bring their sons and daughters to the IDF recruitment office, hug them, smile through their fear and watch their child walk away to defend the homeland.

I could continue forever.

Israel is a country filled with heroes, past and present, famous and anonymous.

And yet, somewhere among all those people, I unexpectedly found my own Israeli superhero.

Or perhaps I should say that he found me.

We first met online, and eventually we met on the ground, in real life.

I will not share his name. Partly because there are things that should remain private, but mostly because he is far too modest to enjoy being called a superhero.

Which, ironically, is exactly what makes him one.

He contacted me through LinkedIn after reading one of my blogs, Echoes of Loyalty: When Nuance Becomes Betrayal. He wanted to express his solidarity.

And somewhere in those first conversations I discovered something else.

He loved dogs.

People who know me know that this already gives someone a considerable advantage in my judgment of their character. I have always believed that the way a person treats animals tells you something about the part of their personality that cannot easily be manufactured for an audience.

We continued talking, and slowly I discovered a remarkable combination of qualities.

An animal lover.

Smart and funny.

Ambitious and positive.

Empathetic.

A daredevil with a gentle heart.

Someone who has held enormous responsibility in the defense of Israel, who has accomplished extraordinary things professionally and who has successfully led companies after his years of active service.

What strikes me most, however, is not the impressive résumé.

I have met successful people before. Sometimes success comes with an ego that enters the room several minutes before the person does. Power can change people. Status can make people believe that ordinary rules no longer apply to them.

With him, I found something different.

Strength without arrogance.

Achievement without the constant need for applause.

Authority combined with humanity.

At some point I told him that he should become Prime Minister of Israel.

I meant it.

Someone with his intelligence, experience, leadership skills and understanding of Israel could make a difference. His answer, however, revealed perhaps more about him than any résumé ever could. His family had already endured enough during his years of active duty.

I understood.

Sometimes serving your country carries a price that is paid not only by the person wearing the uniform or carrying the responsibility, but also by everyone waiting at home.

And that decision deserves respect too.

For me, this man has become something else.

A rock in the storm.

When I worry too much, he reminds me to remain positive.

When I start carrying the problems of Israel and seemingly half the world on my shoulders, he reminds me that I cannot solve everything.

When my thoughts run ahead of reality, he brings perspective.

Perhaps that is why he stands out so much to me.

Because in him I recognize something that I have always loved about Israel itself.

Strength combined with vulnerability.

Courage combined with compassion.

Determination combined with humor.

The willingness to take enormous risks when necessary, followed by the ability to return to ordinary life and care about something as simple as a dog.

That, to me, is the Israeli spirit.

And he is certainly not alone. He stands among countless Israeli heroes whose courage, intelligence, sacrifice and humanity have built and protected this extraordinary country.

That is also why I refuse to believe those who predict Israel’s disappearance.

A country containing this many people willing to defend it, rebuild it, heal it, rescue others, volunteer for it, argue about it and love it with every fiber of their being is not easily defeated.

Israel will rise.

Israel will shine.

Israel will survive long after those who dream of its destruction have disappeared into history.

And somewhere inside that enormous story is one superhero who will probably smile, shake his head and tell me that I am exaggerating when he reads this.

Perhaps I am.

But some people deserve to know the impact they have on another human being.

So thank you, my dear hero.

Thank you for the direction.

Thank you for the light.

Thank you for reminding me to stay positive when the world becomes too heavy.

And thank you for being my rock in the storm.