Storytelling is one of the single most important acts that journalists and other documentarians who live during this period can undertake.
The genocidal rampage that took place on October 7, 2023 is forever etched in our brains and souls. How many generations will live with and process that trauma, I don’t know.
The movie “We Will Dance Again,”(a meticulous recounting of what took place at the Supernova music festival, using footage from Hamas GoPro cameras and eyewitness accounts from a dozen survivors, shows the terrorists getting ready to tear through the Gaza border fence into Israel.
Their screams of joy and maniacal energy were bone-chilling. Is this how the Nazis sounded? It was hard to fathom that human beings could wake up and decide this is what they are going to do today.
That scene was, for me, a microcosm of every October 7 clip that would emerge, as journalists and others started to document the grisly massacre that took place on Israeli soil on that fateful day.
This would become a continuous reel in our brains, that once activated is hard to control.
Storytelling
On the other hand, storytelling about October 7 is one of the single most important acts that journalists and other documentarians who live during this period can undertake.
We are grateful to the visionary leaders of the Israel National Library, who launched a massive data collection project to do just that: “Bearing Witness,” spearheaded by Head of Collections Raquel Ukeles, preserves and makes accessible a wide array of documentary materials related to October 7 and its aftermath both in Israel and abroad.
Other storytellers and producers — Sheryl Sandberg (director, “Screams Before Silence”), Yariv Mozer (director, “We will Dance Again”) and Yair Agmon (editor, One Day in October, a forthcoming book about 40 stories of bravery on October 7) – also stepped forward and took on the recording and sharing of memory as a sacred duty.
Get-up-and-do
What else propels us forward since October 7?
Israeli society galvanized within hours of the Hamas invasion and shouldered the endless emerging needs in affected communities.
Whether civilian-run “war rooms” established in most cities by various NGOs; the instant enlistment of circles upon circles of Israelis in the global campaign for the release of hostages; the insanely fast results from thousands of WhatsApp groups that told Israelis which shiva needed extra visitors, which funerals needed attending, which evacuees needed a hand; or the hundreds of homespun initiatives that cooked, laundered, supported, babysat, carpooled for all those in need, all of this “stepping forward” was that much more urgent since many government ministries were paralyzed for many weeks after the attacks.
There has been a get-up-and-do, no-questions-asked aspect to every task that needed to be done in a small country struggling to keep the homefront running while our troops fight a multi-front war.
What we need to do
Some have said this response evokes Winston Churchill’s famous line about the “finest hour” of the British people during World War II.
For me, it calls up a letter that my late brother-in-law, Alex Singer, wrote to his family in 1985 about what it’s like to donate blood in Israel.
Dear Mom, Dad, Saul, Benjy and Daniel,
I’m on a cot in the base’s PX now. I just gave blood. Giving blood in Israel is a very Israeli Experience… I guess I should say that it’s an Israeli wartime experience, because it’s very efficient and quick. You write your name on a slip of paper, mark a few boxes with an “X,” have your blood pressure taken… lie down, and with no finger pricks or ear pricks, are poked. Then you get up… and leave.
In the meantime, all the blood takers are arguing, eating, throwing blood bags to whoever uses up his supply, and generally not making a big deal about the blood. Elsewhere, giving blood is almost a big deal, with blood donors seen as mini-heroes… Here the experience is surprisingly routine. There’s no sense given to the donor that he’s doing anything special – it’s taken for granted that he’ll be there… In Israel people return because the bloodmobile has arrived and it’s time to give blood.
So how do we face October 7, 2024? The levels of unresolved trauma are profound. Our borders are still insecure. We fight around the clock for the release of our ailing and dying hostages. The prospect of a longer, even more exhausting war on Israel’s northern border looms large.
With no obvious resolution to the enlistment of Haredim of draft age in sight, there is brewing internal tension that could reach a boiling point.
At the same time, I believe that the ties that bind Israelis together are still immense. That bloodmobile shows up again and again, and we all do what we need to do.
Wendy Singer served for nine years as executive director at Start-Up Nation Central (SNC). Today she is a strategic advisor to select Israeli startups and other organizations. Previously, she was steeped in the policy and Israel-advocacy world, including a decade on Capitol Hill, and 16 years as head of AIPAC’s Israel office. She lives in Jerusalem with her husband and three daughters.
Originally posted at israel21c.org