Entebbe at 50: Israel Refused to Leave Jews Behind

Fifty years ago this week, the world witnessed one of the most extraordinary rescue missions in modern history.

On June 27, 1976, Air France Flight 139 departed Tel Aviv for Paris via Athens. It never arrived as planned. The aircraft was hijacked by Palestinian and German terrorists after takeoff from Athens and diverted first to Libya and then to Entebbe, Uganda, where dictator Idi Amin welcomed the hijackers and their hostages.

What happened next remains one of the most chilling and revealing episodes of the post-Holocaust era.

The terrorists separated the Jewish and Israeli passengers from the others.

Again.

Three decades after Auschwitz, Jews were once more singled out from a crowd. Non-Jewish passengers were gradually released. Jews remained captive.

Again.

And what did the world do?

Very little.

The French government negotiated. International leaders expressed concern. Statements were issued. Diplomats talked. The Jewish hostages waited.

For Israel, there was no luxury of waiting.

The Jewish state understood something that many others did not: every day that passed increased the likelihood of murder. Every hour brought the possibility of another massacre.

The danger was not hypothetical. The terrorists had already separated Jewish and Israeli passengers from the rest, reviving memories that many believed had been buried with the Holocaust. Israel’s leaders knew that if they failed to act, the consequences could be catastrophic.

The rescue itself was not without cost. Three hostages were killed during the operation. A fourth hostage, Dora Bloch, a 75-year-old British-Israeli woman who had been transferred to a hospital in Kampala before the raid, was later dragged from her hospital bed and murdered by the Ugandan regime in retaliation. Israel also lost the commander of the mission, Yonatan Netanyahu, the brother of current Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.

Yet the tragedy of those losses only underscores the reality Israel faced. The choice was never between a perfect outcome and a risky one. It was between action and abandonment.

Faced with Jewish hostages held thousands of kilometres away by terrorists protected by a hostile dictatorship, Israel chose action.

In a daring operation that has since become legend, Israeli commandos flew secretly under radar more than 4,000 kilometres into hostile territory and rescued more than one hundred hostages. The mission demonstrated a principle that has become central to modern Jewish identity.

Kol Yisrael arevim zeh la zeh – All Israel is responsible for one another.

The lesson of Entebbe was not merely military. It was moral.

The State of Israel existed because history had repeatedly taught the Jewish people that nobody else could be relied upon to save them when the moment of truth arrived.

The hostages at Entebbe were not rescued because the international community demanded their freedom. They were rescued because fellow Jews refused to abandon them.

Fifty years later, that lesson feels uncomfortably familiar.

Following the atrocities of October 7, Jews around the world once again found themselves confronted with a reality many believed belonged to the past. Hostages were dragged into Gaza. Jewish communities faced intimidation and violence. Antisemitism surged across Western cities, universities, workplaces and public institutions.

And once again, many governments struggled to provide moral clarity. In fact, many western leaders from the United Kingdom, Australia to Canada failed in a way so miserably that would have failed the hostages at Entebbe.

Too often, the response was hesitation, equivocation and the endless search for “context”.

Too often, Jewish fears were dismissed while those threatening Jews were excused.

Too often, the burden was placed on Jews themselves to explain why terrorism against them was unacceptable.

The parallels with Entebbe are not exact, but they are impossible to ignore.

In 1976, Jewish hostages waited while governments deliberated.

In 2026, Jewish communities often find themselves waiting while governments debate whether antisemitism is really antisemitism, whether calls for violence are actually calls for violence, and whether Jewish concerns deserve the same urgency afforded to every other minority group.

The uncomfortable truth is that many Jews are again asking the same question their grandparents asked.

If things become truly dangerous, who will stand with us?

The answer that emerged from Entebbe remains the same.

The Jewish people will.

This is not a rejection of allies. Genuine friends of the Jewish people exist and always have. Many non-Jews risked their lives to save Jews during the Holocaust. Many continue to stand against antisemitism today.

But Entebbe reminds us that there is a difference between sympathy and responsibility.

The responsibility for Jewish survival ultimately rests with Jews themselves.

That is why Israel matters – because it is the one place on earth whose first obligation is to protect Jewish lives.

When the hostages at Entebbe looked into the darkness beyond the terminal windows, they did not know whether anyone was coming.

Then they heard the sound of Israeli commandos.

Fifty years later, the message of that moment still echoes.

The world may issue statements.

International organizations may hold meetings.

Governments may debate and delay.

But when Jewish lives are at stake, the Jewish people have learned, through bitter experience, that their greatest protection lies in their willingness to stand for one another.

Entebbe was not merely a rescue operation.

It was a declaration.

The age of Jewish helplessness was over.

And fifty years later, that lesson remains as relevant as ever.