This Is the Israel I Love – and Fight to Make Better

The joint Israeli-Palestinian Memorial Day ceremony in Tel Aviv on Monday evening closed with a performance from the Rana Choir. Comprised of Jewish, Muslim and Christian women, the Jaffa-based chorus sang a multilingual rendition of Chava Alberstein's "Chad Gadya," an ancient Aramaic Passover song reimagined as a song of protest, demanding to know when the cycle of bloodshed and vengeance will end. Members of the audience, many of whose faces still bore tear tracks from the evening's speeches, gave them a standing ovation. The performers, clearly moved by their reception, looked out into a crowd of Jews and Arabs who shared their vision so completely. After the event ended, a member of that crowd – a visibly Haredi man – collected other attendees as they streamed out, hoping they would join him for evening prayers. He had found enough people to make a minyan. As men in kippot and women in jeans stood in the lobby, facing Jerusalem in prayer, I couldn't suppress a smile. This is the Israel I love. This is the Israel I choose each day to stay in, to make my home, to work toward improving. In my seven years in journalism – and nearly three as a full-time writer (I had started in the inauspicious month of September 2023) – I've met that Israel many times. And though the moments of grief and sorrow and despair have threatened to overtake it, the beauty is still there – and often easy to find, if you know how to look for it. It is the grassroots movements that spring up with every threat to our democracy, showing up in the tens of thousands with drums, flags and banners night after night. It is those same protest movements pivoting immediately to volunteer work on October 7, turning Tel Aviv's expo complex into a well-oiled machine of aid. It is coexistence activists who, early into the war, joined convoys to bring food into Gaza. It is the Israelis who stood at demonstrations with pictures of slain Palestinian children, who inspired so many to see past their own hurt and empathize with innocents on the other side. It is the crowd that would gather at Hostage Square in Tel Aviv every time a captive a would be released from Gaza; who would wake up early on a Saturday to greet the helicopters flying the brothers and sisters that they never met, but whose return they spent every weekend demanding, to nearby Ichilov Hospital. It is the woman I would see at every such event with tears in her eyes, who hugged me close each time we found each other in the crowd, even though we didn't know each other's names. So many people have written off this country and its people, likely including some of you reading this right now. But if you're subscribed here, or at least perusing the headlines, you're coming into contact with Israeli writers and Israeli stories that show not just the potential of this nation and its people, but the light already within it. It's easy to be cynical, but my years of reporting have brought me face-to-face with the best of this country, and they usually carry the same message: We have no choice but to hope. On this Independence Day, I'm fighting for the best Israel can be – and celebrating every person within it that makes this effort worthwhile. Read more about Israel Haaretz Today is our daily newsletter summing up the main events of the day in Israel and the region with a fresh perspective on the stories dominating headlines. Click here to sign up for the latest news from Israel, the Middle East and the Jewish world, from Haaretz's team of writers and editors.