Systems may fail, but Israeli spirit unbroken

This is what I didn’t tell you. Prior to being caught up in the Houthi missile attack on Ben Gurion Airport on Sunday, 4 May, I had spent the week in Israel meeting a diverse and fascinating cross-section of Israeli society. It was the third time I had been to Israel since the 7 October 2023 attack, each visit revealing more, but helping me to understand less.

By the end of the week, I felt overwhelmed, exhausted, and despondent. I also felt inspired.

The day, 7 October was a failure of unimaginable proportions. According to investigative journalist and author Ronen Bergman, Israel had received intelligence about Hamas’s plans at least six times. Yet the threat wasn’t taken seriously.

Though it’s well accepted that there was an intelligence failure, what became clear to me is that the failure extended far beyond that.

Eylon Levy, for instance, described how, upon realising the scale of the crisis, he set up a makeshift studio in his living room and began briefing the foreign press. He wasn’t asked to, he simply knew it was something he could do. Countless reservists, sensing the urgency, found their own way to reach the Gaza envelope to protect residents and push Hamas back. While bureaucracy hesitated, these individuals acted. They arrived at the kibbutzim with no information, no supplies, and no certainty about what awaited them.

South Africa had long pursued a strategy of lawfare to delegitimise Israel. Although it’s unclear exactly when it began preparing for its International Court of Justice (ICJ) case, it was always a question of when, not if. Still, Israel, perhaps paralysed by the trauma of 7 October, was unprepared. It had just two weeks to build a response that could shape the future of the country. Dr Eran Shamir-Borer, a member of the legal team, described how they shut out the world and got to work. Against an absurd accusation meant to demonise a country fighting for its life, they crafted a response that took the moral high ground. They resisted the urge to display graphic images of slaughtered civilians and instead, much like the soldiers on the ground, pushed back with dignity and resolve.

In many respects, Hamas’s plan was brilliant. Its members trained in plain sight. They controlled information. They studied every kibbutz in detail. They got all of that right.

But they got something very, very wrong.

Less than a week before the attack, Israelis were marching against their government. They were arguing about public prayer in Tel Aviv, accusing each other of destroying the country’s soul. Anger filled the streets. It seemed like a perfect time to strike a fractured nation.

What Hamas didn’t count on was the strength of the individual.

Instead of running from danger, Israelis ran toward it. Each person asked, “What can I do?” and then did it. Some took up arms. Others prayed. Some packed food parcels. Others built impromptu broadcast studios or joined the legal team preparing for the ICJ. They found their mission, and they fulfilled it.

What I didn’t tell you is that on the way to Ben Gurion Airport, I felt deflated. Spent. Uncertain.

But as the plane took off, I realised something. While systems can fail – and they did – it’s the human spirit that rises. I left Israel reminded that even in a country shaken to its core, the faith and resilience of its people remains unshakeable. And that’s something worth not just saying, but repeating.