Traumatised Israelis sacrificing for us all

The Ethiopian Airlines flight path unusually approached Ben Gurion Airport from the east – a sign of the times perhaps to avoid Houthi missiles? As the plane descended, so the anticipation increased, as it does only on a flight to Israel.

For some reason, the clapping which accompanied the landing seemed a quirky remnant from a time gone by and strangely inappropriate, a vestige of a bygone era. Hasn’t Israel moved on? It’s the start-up nation for goodness sake, not some pioneer kumbaya state. The swamps have been drained, and the smallest “hok” in Tel Aviv will set you back R25 million! Happy clappy Zionists no longer required.

The reason for the visit – Pesach. Why pass up on the opportunity to have a seder with best friends, Sarit and Guy, and their incredible kids? Maybe selflessly a need to show support for Israelis, to spend some money in the war-battered economy. Maybe selfishly, a need to feel part of the consensus, to no longer feel “othered”. To feel normal in the most abnormal of places.

It’s a society so deeply traumatised by the ongoing war. Faces and names of hostages and victims of 7 October are inescapably everywhere. The hostage issue is ubiquitous and a deep wound, incapable of being healed until the last one returns home. But the resilience of the society is self-evident each and every day. You see it in the number of prams; you see it in the way mothers embrace their sons. The bars and restaurants are packed to capacity despite the eye watering prices. These remarkable people continue to live their lives.

Sarit and Guy’s son, Ilan, whom we have known since he was six years old, is now a 22-year-old on-duty tank commander and wanted to show us where he fought on 7 October. And so a day was spent travelling with him and his family from Sderot to Kfar Aza, to Nir Oz, to Be’eri, with a final stop at the Nova massacre site.

I’ve been to Theresienstadt. I’ve witnessed the special cruelty reserved for Jews, but even the Nazis had the good sense to try and hide their actions. The frenzied murderous mob of butchering Islamists, fitted with GoPros so they could livestream the massacre, took evil to a new level. They will be paying the price for their actions for many, many years to come. They failed to understand that since 1948, Jewish lives are no longer cheap.

The walk through the field of the slaughtered initially evokes shock, shock at the endlessness of the memorials and the sheer number of the dead, which soon turns to guilt because it’s just not possible to read each and every tribute. My eyes welled up with tears, and my body began to shake. My partner’s well timed and necessary embrace was permission to sob. Visting Nova is a shocking and awful experience, and yet one that I’m grateful to have had. It will define my political views and my relationship to Israel for years to come.

Exiting the site on the right-hand side, there’s a makeshift tent which doubles as a prayer space. I noticed Sarit quietly lighting a memorial candle and praying. I have a fairly good idea what she was praying for. On the left-hand side, I saw Ilan, in his uniform with his machine slung over his shoulder. It then hit me hard just how much Israelis are sacrificing for all of us, and it struck me that with resilience and bravery like that, we will win, we will triumph, because we always do.

• Simon Anstey, who has a penchant for radio and podcasts, is on sabbatical from the insurance world.