South Africans endure arduous journey from war-torn Israel

When Israeli airspace suddenly shut down at the beginning of the Iran-Israel war on 13 June, hundreds of South Africans were stranded in a war zone with no obvious way out.

A frantic scramble followed, with travellers forking out exorbitant sums of cash and taking extraordinary risks. This included boarding taxis through Jordan, crossing deserts into Egypt, even fleeing by yacht to Cyprus. Sleepless nights, torturous border queues, language barriers, and decisions they would never normally contemplate became the price of getting home.

The South African Jewish Board of Deputies (SAJBD) had earlier advised travellers about the risks involved in travelling through Israel’s borders, advising them instead to wait for the skies to open officially. However, some couldn’t wait.

Johannesburg mother of two Jade Factor, 34, had flown in for her sister’s baby’s birth and bris. Stuck in Tel Aviv, she said, “Nothing could stop me from reaching my children in Johannesburg.”

At dawn on 23 June, she joined a rescue convoy organised by tour-guide-turned-fixer Rabbi Gary Rogoff and Community Circle founder Kim Kur. The drive from Tel Aviv to the Sheikh Hussein Bridge into Jordan was nerve wrecking but smooth. Once across, she and the group headed for Amman’s airport. Her problems began mid-flight to Doha, when Iranian strikes on United States bases closed Qatari airspace and the aircraft diverted to Saudi Arabia. After an hour on the tarmac and a crush of stranded passengers, she frantically bought a new ticket online to dodge the queues in order to make her flight, only to face another servicing delay. Thirty-six hours, five countries, and roughly 14 000 kilometres after leaving Tel Aviv, she finally stepped through her front door. “My family is my home,” she breathed. “I’m just so grateful.”

Rogoff, who made aliya in 2018, and runs a tour company, said he watched his touring calendar evaporate overnight and become repurposed into an escape lifeline.

“I saw people who needed help,” he said. “After my tours were cancelled, this felt like a call of duty.” Each route was potentially fraught. There were three risk-laden options, all choices made out of desperation. People could go by boat to Cyprus from Ashdod, which took long and came with dreaded and unsolvable visa complications. They could exit through Egypt at the Taba border crossing, or take the Jordan River route via Sheikh Hussein.

None were simple, and all involved multiple security checkpoints, long bus rides, sweltering heat, and cash in several currencies. This was against a backdrop of regional war threats and uncertainty. “If you weren’t in a rush, I said, ‘Sit tight.’ If you had to move, I helped,” Rogoff said.

Kur’s Facebook group, with more than 30 000 members in more than 100 countries, became a crisis hotline. “My phone has been ringing off the hook for days from people desperately running away from the war and trauma. It has been manic,” she said. “There were brides needing to get back in time for their wedding; panicked pregnant mothers; and elderly couples running out of chronic medication needing original scripts. Then, there were young girls finishing sem [seminary] having no place to go; single mothers running out of cash; the list goes on and on. The anxiety, fear, and uncertainty has been off the charts. All this while missiles are flying overhead, nights interrupted by siren alerts, and children anxiously huddling in shelters with strangers. Flights cancelled, postponed, rebooked, diverted mid-flight, consular services non-responsive, endless visa hiccups, you name it.”

Among Rogoff’s rescues was a South African couple in their late 60s living in Sydney. After a missile exploded 400m from their Tel Aviv hotel, destroying the coffee shop they frequented daily, they decided to leave.

Rogoff arranged a 06:00 pickup. By 07:30, they were waiting at the still-closed border. It opened at 08:30. A 120 shekel (R625) Israeli exit fee; a JD40 (R1 000) Jordanian visa; and a $50 (R887.50) transfer charge later, they boarded a coach to Amman. “We had to keep our nerve,” the woman said. “If we’d waited, we might never have got out.” By 09:15, they were on their way, half the group stopping at an Amman hotel to rest, the rest heading straight for outbound flights. “Everything went smoothly,” one participant noted. “No-one felt threatened or mistreated at any point.”

Johannesburg anaesthetist Dr Kiki Marx had gone to Israel for a friend’s wedding on 5 June, and found herself “trapped and vulnerable” when rockets rained down on 13 June. Cyprus required a visa she couldn’t secure, Jordan felt exposed, so she chose Egypt – “like the reverse of the Pesach seder”, she joked.

With 10 other South Africans, four of them doctors, she braved the Taba border crossing: several bus transfers, sniffer dogs, luggage scans, exit fees, entry fees, and a scorching walk across no-man’s-land with bags in tow.

Ryan Katz, 27, called it an “unforgettable, epic adventure” of sardine-packed taxis, endless fees, and “many lost-in-translation moments”. Thirty-six hours after leaving Herzliya, he collapsed, safe but exhausted, in Klerksdorp. Marx said it was a team effort. “We all made the decision to do this risky trip into the unknown and supported each other.”

Myriad smaller dramas played out along every route. Travellers counted out shekels, dollars, and dinars at roadside booths. Local travel agents managed multiple bookings, juggling a whirlwind of changing itineraries and acting as a lifeline for those trying to get home.

“It has been absolutely insane,” said Shana Chrysler of Emunah Travel. “Dozens either stuck here needing to get back to Israel or vice versa. The most frustrating thing being not having answers to people’s questions. Asked when the next flight was scheduled, I responded by asking when the next siren was going to go off. I’ve lost my voice.”

The skies have since reopened and El Al is flying again. However, at the time of going to print on Wednesday 25 June, other airlines were starting to resume flights out of Israel.

SAJBD National Director Wendy Kahn said, “We’re engaging with South African and Ethiopian Airlines and the Israeli authorities to get a slot as soon as possible to get our citizens home. We have more than 200 people waiting. It’s a mammoth task.”