Fires, Missiles, and the Relentless Pulse of Life in Israel

Some weeks in Israel carry the weight of an entire year in other countries. This past week has felt exactly like that—a relentless series of events that demand our attention, resilience, and reflection.

It began with the devastating fire in the Jerusalem Hills. Flames tore through the forests, threatening homes, wildlife, and the very land that symbolises beauty, rootedness, and peace. The fire wasn’t just a natural disaster—it was a searing reminder of how fragile and volatile life here can be. Firefighters battled the blaze for hours. Yom Haatzmaut celebrations were put on hold .

Before the ashes had even cooled, other crises flared up: Yemen launched a missile toward Ben Gurion Airport, disrupting air travel and cancelling holiday plans for many, including my own. Flights were cancelled, and airlines pushed back on future flights. Just another week, just another disruption.

Meanwhile, there is a mass call-up of Reserves to Gaza, ongoing tensions in Syria, and Turkey’s ambitions in Syria, seemingly backed at times by opaque international alliances, add to the bewildering chaos. And then there’s the global picture: Trump’s erratic manoeuvres are unabated, tariff trade wars,  market instability, and an emboldened Iran and Russia.

Despite all this, life persists. I spent a brief moment of calm in Carmal Forest Spa, a welcome break from the intensity, until cancelled flights brought the chaos back to my doorstep. And with my upcoming trip to Budapest uncertain, I ask: What does it all mean?

Why does a fire in the Jerusalem Hills coincide with a missile from Yemen? Why does it feel like the world’s chaos always finds its way back to this tiny strip of land? These events may be disconnected on the map, but here in Israel, they converge in real time, shaping how we live, think, and feel.

This isn’t just a news recap. It’s a meditation on what it means to live in a land where the extraordinary becomes ordinary, and where the pulse of the nation beats faster than most can understand.

PS—I forgot to include our Shabbat morning wakeup missile from Yemen at 6:20 a.m. and the cancellation or postponement of the Yom Ha’azmaut evening events. I am sure we all have our stories of plans disrupted.

Another P.S. Personal Moments, Intertwined with National Pain

On Friday morning, we visited Beit Yanai Beach. I had planned to swim, but to our dismay—and slight irritation—no one was allowed in the water due to potential sharks. Still, we moved on, continuing our usual Friday outing to Kfar Horoe and making our way to Café Daniel, where we enjoyed some delicious pastries. It was there, in casual conversation, that we were told it was Daniel’s birthday.

Daniel Perez—for those who don’t know—is one of the officially recognised 59 hostages. His body is still being held in Gaza. After much anguish, it was confirmed that he is no longer alive. Hearing that it was his birthday in that moment felt jarring, like a thread tying together our quiet Friday morning and a national tragedy still raw and unresolved.

I sent a quick WhatsApp hug to his Father, Rabbi Doron. It was just a small gesture, but it felt important.

Our lives are so deeply intertwined here. We never imagined we’d live this way—holding joy and grief in the same breath.

Here is a video circulated showing Daniel and his comrades’ bravery on October 7^th.

I was revising these PSs while walking to work. After admiring the beautiful construction in Abu Tor, I passed through the First Station and saw Joseph, the Farmer from the Gaza Envelope, unpacking fresh fruit and vegetables for the Tuesday Market that sells the produce of these Farmers. This is another reminder of the rebuilding of Jerusalem and the intertwining of the war in Gaza.

So, here are my two cents on Fires.

Another Fire Again – Mitigating the Risk and Effect—Natural and Arson

Jerusalem Hills Burning—Again

Once more, the Jerusalem Hills are ablaze.

On the eve of Israel’s Independence Day, over 3,000 acres burned across five separate locations, fanned by desert winds and dry brush. Israel’s Fire and Rescue Service called it one of the largest wildfires in national history.

And yet—something remarkable happened.

Despite the scale and ferocity of the flames, the fire was brought under control quickly and efficiently.
The Israeli Fire and Rescue Services, under immense pressure, acted with precision and bravery. Their response, on the very eve of national celebration, was a powerful display of resilience.

International support from Croatia, France, and others provided critical aerial assistance.
Just days later, we were able to drive through the scorched zones—a miracle, given the circumstances.

Yes, the trees were charred and the landscape blackened—but the destruction could have been far worse.

“Where fire once devoured, new life will take root.”

In Israel, this is more than a metaphor. It’s ean cological reality.
We are one of the few countries on Earth with more trees today than a century ago. Our success in reforestation has created vast green belts—but with them, the need for modern fire management.

This fire, though tragic, reminds us that with courage, technology, and global solidarity, we can hold the line.

So Why Are We Still So Unprepared?

Let’s look back at what’s led us here—and how we can change course.

 And like clockwork, every summer the sirens scream, families evacuate, and prayers rise.
Yet we’re left with the same haunting question:

Why are we still so unprepared? Let’s look at some recent history of fires.

The 2010 Carmel Forest Fire: A National Tragedy

The deadliest fire in Israel’s history struck Mount Carmel in 2010.
Forty-four lives were lost—prison guards, firefighters, civilians.
Seventeen thousand people were evacuated.
Two thousand hectares of forest were scorched.

The inferno exposed Israel’s utter lack of aerial firefighting capabilities and emergency coordination. Global aid poured in. Promises were made. But lasting change? Elusive.

It remained the worst civilian disaster in Israel until the Mount Meron crowd crush in 2021. (which was an avoidable tragedy)

Me’or Modi’in: A Spiritual Home in Ashes

On Lag BaOmer 2019, a fire engulfed Me’or Modi’in, a spiritual moshav founded by followers of Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach.

The blaze destroyed over 90% of homes.
Heirlooms vanished. Community life incinerated.
Multiple ignition points suggested arson, yet it was never classified as terrorism.

That technicality saved the state money, while robbing victims of justice, aid, and dignity.

Fire precautions were lacking. The emergency response was underwhelming.
Five years later, most residents still haven’t rebuilt. Their trauma endures while official memory fades.

I knew many of those families. Their loss wasn’t just material—it was sacred. It pushed me to research how forests can be better managed and how technology might save us next time.

Fighting Fire with Innovation

Here are some breakthroughs in fire tech—powerful reminders that while nature rages, innovation rises.

Featured Startups (and I am sure they need Investment:

• Firewave – Uses acoustic signatures to detect fires remotely for faster responses.
• Firedome – Deploys a dual-layer suppression system using AI and fire retardant perimeters.

Lessons:

• Early detection and rapid response save lives.
• AI and sensor technologies are revolutionizing fire defense.
• Smart infrastructure can mitigate disasters before they begin.

In the U.S., companies like Drone Amplified now use drones and “dragon eggs” to safely conduct prescribed burns—a centuries-old, now AI-enhanced tactic to prevent catastrophic fires.

After the 2018 Camp Fire in California, drone data helped map destruction, expedite insurance claims, and win FEMA support. In fires, information is oxygen.

The 2021 Jerusalem Forest Inferno

Over 6,000 acres burned. Ash blanketed the capital. Entire neighborhoods fled.

Whether arson or not, the fire exposed fragile forest management, the absence of national strategy, and a chronic lack of preparedness.

And once again, the core questions—How did this happen? How do we stop the next one?—went unanswered.

The Real Fire: Denial and Apathy

Across Israel and the globe, a disturbing pattern holds:
We know fires are coming. We choose not to prepare.

• Budgets are slashed.
• Firefighting aircraft delayed.
• Forest thinning and firebreaks unfunded.
• Fire departments are left overwhelmed.

This is no longer mismanagement.
It’s a moral failure.

Fire as Terror: The Hidden War

In Israel, fire isn’t just natural—it’s tactical.

• Gaza militants launch incendiary balloons, torching fields and wildlife.
• Hezbollah rockets spark wildfires along the northern border.
• Me’or Modi’in? A likely arson (terror) buried in denial and bureaucracy.

Fire is cheap. Destructive. Deniable.
But no less traumatising.

Global Flames, Local Lessons

From Israel to Cape Town, from California to Australia, flames unite us in warning:

• Cape Town 2021: Table Mountain arson wiped out UCT’s Jagger Library—my alma mater’s historical heart.
• California 2025: The January 2025 wildfires in Southern California, notably the Palisades and Eaton fires, have become the most expensive wildfire disaster in U.S. history. Estimates place the total economic impact between $250 billion and $275 billion, encompassing property destruction, business interruptions, firefighting expenses, and broader economic disruptions. ​

The fires destroyed over 16,000 structures, resulted in 29 fatalities, and forced the evacuation of more than 200,000 residents. Insured losses alone are projected to reach up to $75 billion, placing immense strain on California’s insurance infrastructure. ​

This catastrophe underscores the escalating risks associated with climate change, urban development in fire-prone areas, and the urgent need for comprehensive wildfire management and mitigation strategies.

I explored this further in my blog: Natural Disasters Are Inevitable—But the Damage Doesn’t Have to Be

• Australia’s Black Summer (2019–2020):
  • 46 million acres burned, 3 billion animals displaced or killed , $70+ billion AUD in damages

Leadership’s Blind Eye

Back in 2010, experts called for a state inquiry into the Carmel fire. It never happened.
By 2022, a plan to buy Black Hawk jets for firefighting was approved—then frozen. National Security Minister Ben-Gvir dismissed it as wasteful.

Former ministry director Tomer Lotan called the resistance “crazy and stupid.”
“We’re watching these fires now,” he said, “and my blood is boiling.”

Meanwhile, NIS 217 million was slashed from firefighting budgets, redirected to political interests and sectoral handouts.

MK Vladimir Beliak put it plainly:
“The 2025 budget tells you everything you need to know about yesterday’s fires.”

What Must Change

We can’t keep dousing fires with tears and bureaucracy. We must act with urgency and clarity:

Call it what it is: arson, terror, negligence. Name the threat.
Fund real solutions: modern aircraft, AI detection, firebreaks, controlled burns.
Empower communities: drills, shelters, evacuation routes.
Support all victims fairly, regardless of definitions.
Hold leaders accountable: demand transparency, track budgets, measure readiness.

Rebuilding with Vision

Jerusalem. California. Cape Town. Me’or Modi’in.
Different continents. One shared message:

Denial is not protection. Bureaucracy is not compassion. Rebuilding is meaningless without change.

“We cannot put out fire with silence. We must meet it with honesty, resilience, and vision.”
— Jeffrey Levine

Let’s build more than fire stations. Let’s build fire-resilient societies.
Let’s honour the victims—not just with aid, but with truth, justice, and reform.

We are now in the Netzach week of counting the Omer. Netzach means Victory and teaches how to become victorious in our Life missions—our Country’s Missions. This blog is being published on the 23rd Day of Omer, which is Gevurah B Netzach. We should have courage in our mission. It is time to redefine “Winning”!!