‘Back to normal’: The illusion of routine in Israel
Twelve days into the war with Iran, Israel awoke to another wave of sirens. Multiple missile barrages kept much of the country in shelters for nearly two hours and killed four people in Beersheba. Around the same time, a ceasefire was announced (set to begin at 7 a.m.) adding a surreal layer to an already chaotic morning, filled with loss and destruction.
At the said hour, rescue teams were still pulling bodies from the rubble. As the day unfolded, drones launched before the ceasefire were intercepted near midday, raising doubts about whether the truce would hold. And by 8:30 p.m., the authorities declared a full “return to routine” (hazara la’shigra) starting the next morning, which in the Home Front Command’s words means: work, school and life as usual. While the announcement brought relief, it also brought a strange heaviness. What did “normal” mean in the shadow of fresh loss, and after twelve days of existential fear, sleepless nights and uncertainty? That feeling only deepened the following morning as the country rose to the terrible news of the death of seven soldiers in the Southern Gaza Strip.
As the day unfolded, as work and school resumed, as the roads filled with traffic again, beneath the surface of normalcy, the emotional and physical toll began to show. That’s when it started to hit for many people: the exhaustion, the anxiety, the sadness and depression.
Such a response is not unusual in Israel. But as the years go by, the shorter this transitional period is. In fact, for years, “normalcy” in Israel was divided along geographic lines: while the South lived under constant threat and recurring Hamas attacks, much of the rest of the country continued life as usual. But this has changed since October 7th and more so since June 12th. For twelve days, the entire population had been in survival mode. Everyone had to make quick decisions all day long: how to get to the shelter, where to sleep, how to care for the children while working from home?
Over news panels and feeds (such as Hamal news), psychology experts explain that during these days, our bodies, on high alert and survival mode, have been flooded with hormones like cortisol and adrenaline. At the same time, emotions were pushed aside to make room for that automatic, hyper-alert defense state the entire country had to operate in – physically, emotionally and literally. And we did it – remarkably well. In fact, we even processed some of it in real time, thanks in part to social media. Memes expressed emotions that were otherwise hard to put into words. They captured how surreal and difficult it felt to go from zero to sixty – or more accurately, from sixty to zero. There were sweet-and-sour videos about people stumbling and falling as they tried to walk again, or about kids crying because they wanted to keep sleeping altogether in the mamad (the bomb shelter). These posts, acting like an outlet and a mirror, made many of us recognize our own reactions and realize that we weren’t the only ones feeling this way.
Psychology experts are giving tips on how to cope with this so-called back to normal injunction. On its Facebook page, the Ashkelon Resilience Center offers practical advice for individuals and especially for parents. For many, they explain, returning to routine feels less like relief and more like “jumping into cold water.” Reminding us that we are all human, they advise people to “ease back” into routine and lower expectations. Emphasizing the importance of interaction, small meaningful actions and seeking help when needed, they remind us that “routine is not a destination but a journey.”
There is nothing normal about the routine of living in Israel. Nobody has forgotten that the 12-day war with Iran was in fact a war within a war – the war we’ve been fighting since October 7th against Hamas and other fronts. Nobody has forgotten the hostages. What we call “normal” here is already a form of controlled emergency. And still, it’s full of life, it’s growing and thriving. Alongside the very real, large-scale post-trauma affecting Israelis since 7.10 – and more particularly soldiers – we are witnessing what has been coined as post-traumatic growth. PTG, as reintroduced by journalist Sivan Rahav-Meir (taking from Lord Rabbi Jonathan Sacks’ teachings) is the ability to benefit and grow from trauma and crisis, something the Jewish people have done throughout History. Although the Israeli version of normal is nothing but normal, it’s meaningful and powerful. It sharpens our instincts. It forces innovation and creativity – not just in tech or defense, but in spirit. We keep having to invent new ways to cope, to build, to raise our children between wars, to raise them ahead of their army service. We find strength in the chaos, not just despite it.
Israel will never be normal. And its people – despite what they may wish – will never be normal either. More is demanded of us. It’s part of the destiny that ties us together and to the Jewish State of Israel. And more will be written – not only about our victories on the battlefield, but also about the strong resilience and growth of a people who, time after time, surpass themselves.
