A national library like other national libraries – and like no other

Sometimes, my family enjoys playing tourists in our own country. But a site in Israel is never just another exciting place to visit. There is always something deeper at play.

It’s Hanukkah vacation this week, which means the kids are home from school. We took the opportunity to plan a trip to what my husband and I like to call “the other Israel,” the Israel of our childhood, the parts of Jerusalem we would visit as young American tourists.

We decided to go visit the new National Library. As we got out of the car in front of the large and beautiful building, my husband commented that in many ways visiting spots in “the other Israel” feels like being a tourist anywhere in the world.

Entering the space of the National Library of Israel, we were instantly comfortable and at ease. The circular layout of the reading rooms, the friendly children’s section and the open view of multiple floors immediately left us wanting to register for a card and settle down with a good book.  Even the kids who had been hesitant about the trip suddenly perked up.

“Wow, just like Finland” was the general family consensus. Once, during a 12-hour stopover, we were wandering around the capital city of Helsinki, when we made a stop at the Oodi Central Library. Its shape and design completely blew us away, and that was before we stepped inside and realized its multiple dimensions.

It was the kind of place where we wanted to spend hours. Just like how we felt about the National Library of Israel.

The National Library is the farthest thing from an ivory tower. It is not a stuffy, old building meant exclusively for academics. The décor is modern, warm, and inviting, and just standing there we felt how deeply integrated and connected the institution feels to the people of this country.

Outside the building, we spent time lounging in the beautiful gardens, eating some snacks from the café. The library is situated across the street from the Knesset, the Supreme Court, and the Israel Museum, and it is a wonderful area to explore and walk around. “Just like Washington, DC,” we thought, with several national institutions lined up on the same block.

On the tour, we saw some of the National Library’s really special and treasured items. There is the Damascus Crown — a thousand-year-old Torah manuscript — and a collection of Passover Haggadot that date back many centuries. Our family particularly appreciated the pages of Maimonides’ own handwritten commentary on the Mishna.

From more recent times, it was meaningful to see the original manuscripts of Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook and the Hazon Ish, notes by the author Shai Agnon, musical bars written by the song composer Naomi Shemer, the space diary of astronaut Ilan Ramon, and the note found on fighter Hannah Senesh the day of her execution. “Just like the British Museum” and its famous artifacts, we remarked.

We were impressed that our small country has quite a national library. With 11 floors, over 4.5 million books, multiple exhibits, and four robots that help retrieve selections from storage areas deep underground, it is a reminder of how far this country has come in the short 76 years since its founding.  In many ways, it can compete with anywhere.

But that would not be the full picture. Life in this country is never that simple.

After 25 years in the making, the new National Library was set to have its grand opening in early October 2023. Instead, the country found itself thrown into war, and the opening was postponed. After a delay of three weeks, the library opened its doors — quietly and only partially — on Sunday, October 29th.

Exactly 14 months later, we were happy to see the library bustling with people of all ages. There was a positive energy in the air. Our guide, Yoel, packed the hour-and-a-half tour with fascinating information. Everyone enjoyed. It was a great place to visit.

Except that we aren’t exactly visitors. We live here. And Israel is not just another place on the map for us.

At the very end of our tour, we made a quick stop in the synagogue on floor -3 to see the Torah ark curtain cover. The dazzling parochet was created by artist Itamar Sagi, who used over 1,100 pieces of bold and colorful fabrics to weave together a hopeful statement of prayer. A prayer for better days. A prayer for days of light. A prayer for days of happiness and color.

The Torah ark curtain cover in the Wohl Synagogue of the National Library of Israel (courtesy)

On the back of the parochet, there is a simply stitched dedication:

The Torah ark curtain cover was designed by Itamar Sagi in the spring and summer of 2024 — throughout the months of fear, distress, and worry for the fate of our hostages and for the peace and wellbeing of those uprooted and of our soldiers. Would that peace dwell in our hearts and in our land.

The dedication on the back of the Torah ark curtain cover (courtesy)

Deeply moved, we made our way up the steep steps from the synagogue.  As we rounded the bend on the next floor, we suddenly came face to face with rows of black chairs lined up in the reading room. The chairs are adorned with the sadly familiar posters of the remaining 100 hostages still being held in Gaza.

On each chair in the front rows is displayed a favorite book of that missing man, woman, or child. A book meant to give visitors understanding and insight into each individual hostage and to remind us that these are real people who might share our interests, upbringings, and tastes in reading. A book meant to connect us in yet another way to those who have been stolen from their homes and taken from us over 450 days ago. A book meant to give us strength to continue fighting on their behalf and to continue praying that each one returns home and can be given the freedom to read again.

Some of the hostages, however, will never read again. The back few rows of chairs are empty of any books. We already know that there are hostages who are no longer alive. They will not return to their favorite novels. They will not go on another family Hanukkah excursion. They will not get to visit this new and beautiful library.

And that matters in this country. Because at the end of the day, we are not Finland, the United States, or England, and this was not another typical tourist destination. In all the ways that matter most, Israel will never be just another place to visit.

We are blessed to live in a country where each person counts, where no one is forgotten and where everyone cares. We are reminded of this all the time. Even on a casual family holiday outing. Even when we thought we were just going for a tour. Even when the visit is to the National Library.

I was not the only one who ended this library tour with tears in my eyes.

We may not have the range of natural wonders or spectacular buildings that bigger countries often boast. What Israel has to offer, though, is so much more impressive. It is our home, and it will never be just another place to visit.