The day Fireman Sam reminded me why I made aliyah

With the rise of antisemitism and a heightened identification with Israel after October 7, aliyah is on the table for many people – and statistically on the rise.

But why now? Israel is fighting a war, facing increasing diplomatic isolation in the West, prone to occasional ballistic missiles from Yemen, in the midst of multiple societal fractures over the most sensitive of issues, is so far unable to extract hostages from Hamas, and does not seem to offer much prospect of peace. When Israelis tell their Diaspora friends that “you are safer in Israel,” is that really true? And is living in a Jewish country really worth the huge costs Israel is experiencing militarily, financially and psychologically?

Enter Fireman Sam. I took my 3-year-old son — a huge fan — to a Fireman Sam concert in the Modiin Mall. Watching a show where you know that someone will start a preventable fire only for Sam to save the day did seem to be a metaphor for the role of the State of Israel in Jewish life. Our history is littered with fires that we can see coming. Thankfully, Israel is now there to put them out. Yes, give me 40 minutes at a Fireman Sam concert and this is where my mind wanders.

Before long, I began thinking that the material for this show had run dry. There is only so much you can sing and dance about fire safety. Already preparing to leave, I was not expecting to be spiritually uplifted by an Israeli imitation act of Wales’ most famous fireman.

But when Sam and his entourage started singing “Shevet Achim v’Achayot” (Tribe of Brothers and Sisters) that is exactly what I felt. A popular and catchy song about Israeli unity, the lyrics capture the essence of the Jewish soul: the attachment to our family and our people, our roots in the land of Israel, our love of our people and land, our yearning for a better future, and of course the simple statement that is the chorus: Here is our home, here is our heart.

It was singing this song here, in the mundane setting of a mall, seeing the smiles on children and parents’ faces, religious and secular, Mizrachi and Ma’aravi (to quote the song), that made me consider: Is there another Fireman Sam concert around the world where participants are reminded of who they are, where they come from, with whom they share a common destiny, and most importantly — why are we living in our home, in our land?

Before I moved to Israel, I don’t believe I was ever emotional seeing children sing and be happy. It was just part of life. But now, as an Israeli, having lived through the last few years and with a keen sense of Jewish history, I often feel a sense of deep emotion when I see Israeli children sing. I know what they’ve been through. I know what their parents have been through. I think about the sacrifices of tens of thousands of Jews throughout the generations that led to this moment.

I don’t know if Israel is the safest place for a Jew to live. I can’t guarantee my children that there won’t be more wars to fight, more terror attacks like October 7, or more sacrifices to make. But living amongst my people in Israel opens doors inside my soul that I cannot open in any other land. Israel might give me more moments of stress, panic and fear than living in the UK. But I know that it gives me even more moments of pride, identity and peoplehood. In the synagogue and on the streets, on the TV and in my children’s gan (kindergarten), and even watching Fireman Sam in concert.

Because in this land, hundreds of thousands of Jewish children can smile, sing and dance to these words:

My father dreamed and prayed to live in the Land of Israel. Today my child asks me: What is the story of Israel?

And in my mother’s eyes I’ll always find my place. The guitar is playing an ancient tune that shows the way.

Here is our home, here is our heart. And you — I will not leave. Our ancestors are our roots – and we are the flowers, the melodies. A tribe of brothers and sisters.

And that’s why I made aliyah.