Gil Mildar
As the song says, a Latin American with no money in his pocket.

Hope and despair

Edvard Munch: The Scream

In a labyrinth of sunny days and stormy nights, where each dawn seems to bear the weight of a century, Israel finds itself at a vertex of untold stories, suffocated desires, and a future hanging by a thread of uncertainties. The streets, silent witnesses to the eternal struggle between hope and despair, reverberate with the echo of broken promises and shattered dreams. At the same time, the horizon is stained with the somber colors of a looming storm – not of water, but of fire, not from the sky, but from the heart.

At the center of this storm stands a man, Benjamin Netanyahu, whose name has become synonymous not just with power but with a kind of power that seduces and corrupts, promising security while sowing division, speaking of democracy while drawing the lines of an almost theocratic reign. Like a puppet master, he pulls the strings, and an entire country seems to dance to the rhythm of a song many did not choose to hear.

And here, on this stage of absurdities, the citizens of Israel, exhausted from both physical and ideological battles, face the most significant choice of their lives. It’s no longer a matter of left or right, secular against religious, Jew against Arab. It’s the choice between humanity and its total loss, between the light of mutual understanding and the darkness of unshakeable hatred.

Facing this crossroads, I summon the bravery of vulnerability, the sublime power of opening our hearts even when we only want to close them. Because, in the end, what’s at stake is not just the fate of a country but the essence of what it means to be human in an increasingly divided world.

Nietzsche warned us about the dangers of gazing into the abyss. But perhaps he forgot to tell us that, sometimes, in the deepest of that abyss, we might find ourselves, our deepest fears, and our most audacious hopes. And that, in facing those abysses, we have the chance not only to fight the monsters that gaze back at us but to transform them, to recognize in their shadows a piece of our humanity.

Israel, with its wounds and scars, its dreams and disillusionments, is at this tipping point. We cannot allow the sound of intolerance to muffle the symphony of diversity that defines the beauty of this country. We cannot let the darkness of eternal night prevent us from seeking the dawn of a new beginning. It’s time to reject the false prophets who preach segregation in the name of security, to say no to the architects of discord who see division as a tool of control.

In this moment of despair, true courage lies in the ability to keep hope alive, to believe in the possibility of change, and to fight for justice and peace, even when they seem like just words in a forgotten book. May the people of Israel, in their tireless search for truth, rediscover the invaluable worth of empathy, solidarity, and, above all, love – that kind of love that transcends borders, that sees in the other not an enemy but a reflection of oneself.

The journey is long, and the path is winding. But at each step, at each brave choice for light, Israel can, and must, rewrite its story, not with the words of those who seek to dominate and divide, but with the voices of all those who still dare to dream of a future where humanity prevails over fear. May we, together, walk towards that future, not as enemies, but as fellow travelers, united by the unshakeable belief that, even in the darkest hours, there is still a spark of light ready to ignite into a blaze of hope. This light, fragile and shy at first, can dispel the shadows of fear and hatred that try to engulf us.

Amidst the cacophony of voices clamoring for attention, each Israeli carries within them a unique narrative forged by experiences, dreams, and sometimes tears. These narratives, when shared, do not just tell the story of an individual but intertwine in the nation’s collective history. Here, we find the core of what truly matters: human connection, mutual understanding, and empathy that can bloom even in the most arid deserts of despair.

Netanyahu and his circle of extremism, with their rhetoric that fans the flames of division, seem to have forgotten what lies at the heart of Israel. They have forgotten that beyond ideologies and slogans, we are all made of the same stuff, all seeking peace, love, and security – not just for ourselves but our children for future generations.

The real challenge we face is not defeating this or that political group but rediscovering our shared humanity, relearning the ability to listen even when it’s easier to turn away, to extend a hand even when the abyss between us seems impossible.

This moment of crisis, then, becomes an opportunity – perhaps the last – for Israel not just to change its political course but to reimagine what it means to be a society. A society that values life above all sees diversity as a strength and not a weakness and chooses the bridge over the wall, dialogue over confrontation.

Netanyahu and his followers might imagine they are strengthening Israel, fortifying it against external and internal enemies. However, the true strength of a country is not measured by the rigidity of its leaders but by the resilience of its people – by their ability to weather the storms, not with weapons, but with an unbreakable belief in tomorrow.

As we navigate these turbulent waters, the call is not for disunity but a deeper union around the values that make us truly human. In the face of disenchantment and frustration, our response must be a redoubled affirmation of faith in justice, peace, and the transformative power of compassion.

May Israel remember and reaffirm itself as a nation not defined by its conflicts but by its ability to overcome them, not by its fears but by its hopes. And in this process, may we all, as individuals and as a collective, rediscover the light that once guided us – the light of solidarity, tolerance, and, above all, unconditional love that challenges the darkness, promising a dawn of new possibilities.

About the Author
As a Brazilian, Jewish, and humanist writer, I embody a rich cultural blend that influences my worldview and actions. Six years ago, I made the significant decision to move to Israel, a journey that not only connects me to my ancestral roots but also positions me as an active participant in an ongoing dialogue between the past, present, and future. My Latin American heritage and life in Israel have instilled a deep commitment to diversity, inclusion, and justice. Through my writing, I delve into themes of authoritarianism, memory, and resistance, aiming not just to reflect on history but to actively contribute to the shaping of a more just and equitable future. My work is an invitation for reflection and action, aspiring to advance human dignity above all.