One Woman Two Wars – A Journey of a Ukrainian, Israeli, Jew

On the morning of October 7, I woke up to messages from my friends asking “Are you okay? How is your family? Is everyone safe?”  As a Ukrainian, waking up to lots of messages has meant fear — fear of what happened while I was asleep. On October 7, I was at a friend’s house in Columbia, South Carolina on a visit after spending three months in Ukraine’s front lines providing humanitarian aid. “What happened in Ukraine today? People have been checking on me,” I immediately texted my partner who was still in Ukraine. “It’s not Ukraine, it’s Israel and it’s pretty bad,” he responded.

I couldn’t believe it. I immediately jumped on different news outlets and started watching videos of what was happening: the constant rockets, the horrific videos from the Nova party, and the unforgettable video of Agam Berger being pulled and pushed in and out of a pickup truck while her pants were covered in blood. These videos caused me to feel the pain of my people. Somehow through that pain, I felt we were united. 

I began to text my friends and family in Israel to ensure they were safe, “Are you okay? Is everyone alive? Where were you recruited to the reserves?” It didn’t take long, less than 24 hours, until I put my first mark on the tally of people I lost. 

At this point, my community was under existential threat; they were running in and out of the bomb shelter praying for their life. And once again, I started to feel an existential threat too. My two homelands are at war. Now all of my people are fighting to survive. 

Watching and hearing the stories from Israel immediately triggered past emotions – February 24th, 2022, the day of the full-scale invasion of Ukraine. I was in Columbia, South Carolina, acting as the Executive Director of the local Jewish Federation. Having focused so much energy on ensuring I was doing my job and doing it well, I only paid a passing attention to the Russian posturing that was happening at the border of my home country of Ukraine. Waking up to the Russian invasion was a nightmare. I cried. I was confused. I was afraid. Thank God my parents, who were in Ukraine right before the war broke out, made it to safety in Israel a week before it all started. At that time they were safe in Israel. The irony is that on October 7, they were safe in Ukraine, still a war zone. 

While the wars in Israel and Ukraine hold personal connections for me, the two wars also hold political and strategic connections. In September 2023, after a few months of volunteering in Ukraine, I staffed a student trip in Israel. One of our first stops was at Israel’s northern border, where you can see the flags of Lebanon and Hezbollah across the border. Our guide delved into the shifting dynamics of the region, highlighting the ripple effects of the Ukrainian conflict. With Russia’s focus diverted to Ukraine, its influence weakened in Syria and Lebanon, paving the way for Iran to expand its presence. Given Iran’s significant role as a weapons supplier to Russia, the realization hit hard: the arsenal deployed against Ukraine likely found its way to Southern Lebanon. Witnessing the devastation wrought by such weaponry in Ukraine, amplified the gravity of the situation and my fear for Israel. On April 14, my fears of such weapons being used against Israel were confirmed.

Both conflicts persist unabated, their conclusions elusive, casting a shadow of uncertainty over the future. Presently, Europe finds itself embroiled in its most significant war since World War II, with repercussions poised to shape the trajectory of democracy. Israel, similarly, is facing one of its longest wars since its War of Independence, with a direct threat from Iran and its proxies. Moreover, Jews worldwide continue to grapple with the enduring scourge of antisemitism, a relentless struggle marked by both physical and emotional tolls. It’s enough to make someone want to collapse. To give in. But I am not just some one. I am a part of a people.

In the midst of turmoil, uncertainty, and the looming specter of the future, I find myself enveloped in a profound sense of pride at the intersection of two conflicts. It is a pride that stems from the entirety of my being – my identity, heritage, and enduring faith. 

As the conflict in Ukraine unfolded, motivated by the value of Tikkun Olam, repairing the world, and Peoplehood, Jewish and Israeli organizations swiftly sprang into action, leading the charge on the ground. We mobilized millions of dollars in support of local initiatives, dispatched volunteers to affected regions, and advocated for policy changes in the United States to aid Ukrainian refugees. 

Personally, I joined the Jewish Federation of North America’s volunteer mission to the Ukraine-Poland border, alongside representatives from the Jewish Agency for Israel, the Joint Distribution Committee, and others. In Medyka, Poland, nestled on the precipice of Ukraine, Israeli flags fluttered proudly, and Hebrew echoed through the air, a testament to our unwavering solidarity. Eighty years prior, the landscape bore witness to a vastly different reality, a landscape that forced my family to live under a covered identity in order to survive. On the same ground where Millions of Jews were murdered, today, we are the ones providing help and comfort to others.

Following October 7, Jews from every corner of the globe rallied in support of our brethren. We mobilized resources, provided aid to communities and soldiers, and stood ready to lend a hand in any capacity, even amidst the chaos of war. For Israelis abroad, the call to defend our true homeland rang clear, for as the adage goes, “Ain Li Erez Acheret” – I have no other country. And Golda Meir’s words echo louder than ever: “We Jews have a secret weapon in our struggle with the Arabs; we have no place to go.” With this stark realization, we are united across all boundaries, this global unity standing as a bulwark against hate, discrimination, and antisemitism. 

So yes, I am a woman in two wars, and my identities are under existential threat, but those wars just make me prouder of who I am and of my people. I am Ana, and I am Ukrainian, Israeli, and Jewish.

Am Israel Chai, Slava Ukrainii!