October 7: My Heart Stands with the People of Israel

Am Yisrael Chai — The People of Israel Live

On this October 7, I offer my personal tribute to the people of Israel: to those mourning someone they loved, to survivors carrying memories they never chose, and to families whose lives were changed forever. I write with sorrow, sympathy and a firm sense of solidarity.

From Somaliland, I cannot claim to know the full weight of your grief. But I can acknowledge it, honour your loved ones and stand beside you in remembrance.

Zichronam livracha — May their memory be a blessing.

I think of the ordinary lives interrupted that morning: families at home, friends gathered for music, people expecting a holiday and another day together. Each person had a place in someone else’s life. Their absence is felt in ways the rest of us may never see—in a telephone number still saved, a room left quiet, a family story that becomes difficult to tell without tears.

To those who lost someone, I offer my deepest condolences. I know that words cannot bring back the person you miss or answer every question you carry. An anniversary may offer the comfort of shared remembrance, but it can also reopen the pain of those first hours. You deserve the freedom to mourn in your own way, whether among others or in the privacy of your home.

To the survivors, I offer compassion and respect. Surviving an attack does not mean leaving its terror behind. Some of you live with injuries; others face fear, sleeplessness or memories that return without warning. I hope you have people beside you who listen patiently, who believe you and who remain present when the public attention fades.

Refuah shlemah — May you find healing and recovery.

I offer that wish gently. Healing cannot be demanded, and courage does not require you to hide your suffering. You deserve care on the difficult days and the freedom to enjoy the good ones. Whatever happened to you, your future still deserves tenderness, possibility and hope.

I remember those taken hostage and the families who endured the agony of waiting. I honour those who survived captivity and mourn those who did not return alive. Behind every appeal, photograph and anxious search for news was a family longing to hold someone again. Their suffering deserves lasting understanding and support.

What happened on October 7 calls for moral clarity. Deliberately attacking civilians and taking hostages cannot be justified by a political cause. Those who teach hatred, recruit others into violence or celebrate the anguish of families help sustain the cruelty. I reject any ideology that makes a person’s religion, ancestry or identity a reason to deny their humanity.

My sympathy also reaches people everywhere whose lives have been shattered by terrorism. Across nations and faiths, families carry similar absences, and survivors struggle with the same longing to feel safe again. Their experiences are distinct, but their suffering matters. Remembering October 7 strengthens my resolve to stand against terror wherever it is inflicted.

To the people of Israel, I say hineni — here I am. I offer those words as an expression of presence: I hear your sorrow, I honour your loved ones and I stand with you. My solidarity comes from the conviction that your lives, your safety and your grief deserve to be treated with dignity.

I support your right to defend yourselves against another October 7, with the protection of civilian life at the heart of that defense. Families deserve to sleep safely in their homes. Children deserve to grow without terror, and young people deserve to gather without fearing an attack. Preventing another atrocity is a responsibility to those living today and to generations still to come.

Am Yisrael Chai — The people of Israel live.

I hear both resilience and sorrow in those words. I think of neighbours caring for one another, families helping survivors and communities finding the strength to rebuild. Life continues through acts that may seem small pto an outsider but require enormous courage from the person taking them. There is dignity in facing another morning, accepting help and allowing hope to return slowly.

On this day of remembrance, my heart is with you. May those who mourn find companionship that asks nothing of them. May survivors receive patient care and moments of peace. May those whose lives were taken be remembered in the fullness of who they were, with love.

Zichronam livracha — May their memory be a blessing.

Am Yisrael Chai.