Israeli Resilience: Is Business as Usual Enough?

Within only a few hours of some of the most terrifying nights we’ve lived through in recent memory, ballistic missiles from Iran filling our skies, sirens, shelters, unimaginable damage to houses, buildings, and hospitals – Israel returned to what we call “business as usual.” Cafés reopened, nightclubs, children went back to school and we were all back at the office. The world watched, once again, in awe of what we call Israeli resilience.

This is what we’ve always done. It’s what the world, and especially Jews outside of Israel, have come to expect and admire. How we stand up. How we keep going. How we don’t let terror stop us from living our lives to the fullest.

But this time, something feels different.

For many Israelis, including myself , this was the first time we truly felt our lives were in danger. Not the kind of threat we could brush aside with cynicism or silence by finishing my coffee at the café after a siren.

As I spoke this week to my team at Citizen Café and friends across Israel, I heard a new level of honesty. It was becoming clear that these 12 days changed them.  

Sirens and rockets have become a way of life. Even my dad, an 80-year university professor, declared he is not going to the mamad (saferoom) anymore. Then suddenly reality changes and so many rushed to improvised homes and shelters, all while feeling the powerful blows of the missiles hit nearby. I remember during siren that hardest part was the pause until all the WhatsApp group messages came in, ensuring all my family and friends each texted they were okay. You just knew this was a game of luck, a real-life Russian roulette.

This time it was clear there was no faking it, we are not okay. The resilience we are so proud of is not an endless source of energy that renews itself automatically. Resilience is an effort, it’s an energy that must be renewed, refueled, and reimagined. And right now, Israelis are tired.

The last few years have reshaped our soul, today we carry worries that many outside don’t see. Israelis are consumed by internal struggles, how two Israels are pulling apart, the hostages, the exhaustion of demonstrating, the brain drain, the education system and the unbearable weight of mothers weeping for sons we’ve never met, because in our hearts their sons are our sons.

Resilience has always been one of Israel’s greatest superpowers. But is true resilience just about staying ‘strong’ and automatically going back to normal?

Here lies the challenge.

Jews around the world draw strength from Israeli resilience. They need to see us strong. Israel is their home away from home, their anchor, their proof that Jewish identity will endure no matter what. If they see us crack, it threatens their own sense of safety and belonging.

I have no doubt that Israel will rise economically. Once the major fronts of this war are behind us, we will see growth, investment, innovation. I choose optimism. I believe in the future of this country.

But the soul of Israel? That’s where the work will need to happen. Because a country that lives in mourning for so long cannot claim to be emotionally whole.I believe we will thrive. I believe we will rebuild. But we must not confuse economic prosperity with healing. The soul of a country is not measured by GDP.

Resilience will always be part of who we are. But if we are wise and want to find true resilience again, we need to allow space for truth, for feeling and for healing. A resilience that will make us stronger not because we suppressed what hurt us, but because we faced it with honesty and with heart.

Maybe we Israelis just need a minute to digest, to process, to sit with it — before business goes back to usual.