On Thursday, October 31, at 7 p.m., Federation hosts Israeli journalist Lee Yaron, who will present an online program in which she will discuss her remarkable new book, 10/7: 100 Human Stories.
Register here. Part of Jewish Literary Voices: A Federation Series in collaboration with The Jewish Book Council.
Lee Yaron interviewed survivors from all the massacre sites and from all walks of life, including foreign guest workers, Bedouins, and Israeli Arabs whose experiences have not received the same coverage as those of the Jewish victims. In addition to her incisive reportage of the events and immediate aftermath of Oct. 7, Yaron also works in her subjects’ personal and historical backstories, relating the circumstances of what brought them and families to resettle in Israel (both recently and generations ago) from far-flung corners of the world.
It is a remarkable achievement that seems destined to be key document in how Oct. 7 2023 will be understood in the future. In October, Lee Yaron answered our questions via email.
The BJV Interview: Lee Yaron
One thing that surprised me as I worked my way through 10/7 was the way you incorporated backstories – not only personal and family histories, but Jewish history, as well – into the narrative. I had expected it to be more of a journalistic “first draft of history,” and you delivered something much richer. After I finished the book, my research led me to something your husband, Joshua Cohen, observed in his Atlantic interview with Gal Beckerman that made me think about your book: “It is difficult to write a novel about an event. Because nothing ever starts that morning. Nothing ever ends that night. An event is not a subject.” Were your choices as a writer informed this kind of approach to make the story you tell about a subject rather than an event?
This book tells the untold stories of 100 civilians – mothers, fathers, children – people who lived and died on the Gaza border. But I don't define them merely as victims. Instead, I investigate their lives, beliefs, communities, and family histories. I conducted hundreds of interviews, going back 2-3 generations to where the conflict started. The personal stories are woven together with the bigger political and historical narrative. Some chapters start in the '40s and '50s, allowing us to understand how past wars and failed peace attempts shaped these families' lives long before October 7th.
By weaving in personal histories, family stories, and the larger context of Jewish history, the book transcends being merely a "first draft of history" about a single event. Instead, I hope it will become a key for a real understanding of Israel's history and the history of the conflict – through these personal stories. They are a window into the complex tapestry of Israeli society and its historical roots.
But there's another layer beyond the immediate suffering: 10/7 represents the shattering of a dream that Jews have held for generations. As the news was unfolding, I knew I needed to do the deeper work of connecting 10/7 to this wider context.
When that fence was broken on October 7th, it wasn't just a physical barrier that crashed. It was this dream, carried through generations, that was shattered. A wound of generations of persecution, re-opened.
This was what I heard from so many of the survivors I interviewed. People whose families had come to Israel escaping persecution from Arab countries, from the former Soviet Union, from Africa, from Europe. Their stories reveal how October 7th isn't just part of Israeli history - it's part of Jewish history.
You write that “the consensus in the government and in the press seemed to be that technology such as the Iron Dome defense system would protect Israel, as would the large sums of money—cash, passed in suitcases—that were being paid to Hamas, essentially bribes to ensure their acquiescence.” As a journalist, you have covered stories from across Israel’s subcultures – prior to 10/7, did Israelis more generally share that consensus? And how, in the year of war since the attack, has Israelis’ regard of technology and economic incentivizing changed, particularly as regards internal security and foreign relations with their neighbors?
Prior to 10/7, there seemed to be a general consensus among Israelis that technological solutions like the Iron Dome, combined with economic incentives to Hamas, would be sufficient to protect Israelis and bolster the economy. This belief was largely supported by the government and media narratives.
Much has changed in this year, yet it feels like it was all one long day. Israel is in many ways frozen on October 8th, still mourning their dead, still waiting for the hostages. Many of the bereaved families I spoke with, say they stopped believing – in everything: technology, the IDF, the government – they feel like Israel abandoned them all alone in their darkest hour.
One thing we can notice is that Minister of National Security, Itamar Ben Gvir, is Americanizing Israel – transforming us from a country with virtually no mass shootings into one where civilians can easily obtain guns. Until 10/7, in Israel, weapons were primarily in the hands of soldiers and security personnel, not average citizens. Now, Ben Gvir is dramatically changing this landscape – unrecognizably Admit it without words – the government and IDF and Iron Dome are not enough anymore – and civilians could protect themselves by themselves. Since October, he's distributed tens of thousands of weapons to civilians on demand.
Support for a two-state solution is also at an all-time low. A decade ago, 60% of the Israeli public believed in a two-state solution, 50% before the war, and just 35%-25% now. We see the same trend among Palestinians. In 2010, 57% of Palestinians supported the two-state solution. By 2021, this dropped to 40%. Just months before October 7, 2023, it hit a historic low of 28%.
Friends who have visited Israel in the past year have reported how interested Israelis have been in the particulars of the antisemitism that has emerged in the United States – not only the anti-Zionist marches, but even more so the Jew hatred that has been exposed in our consequential institutions. My personal experience of Israeli attitudes about the Israel/Diaspora divide had often been something akin to “we’re on the front lines, you guys keep writing checks.” How have Israeli attitudes toward the position and role of American Jews changed in light of the mounting challenges we are facing in the Diaspora?
Many Israelis are shocked by the world's response. As Israel is a country with a Jewish majority, we Israelis do not experience antisemitism back home. Before 10/7, it was regarded as a struggle of the past by many Israelis. Now, there's a growing recognition in Israel of the complex challenges American Jews face – an evolving perspective that might lead to more reciprocal support. Israelis may now see American Jews as fighting their own "front line" against antisemitism. This could result in increased engagement from Israel in supporting Diaspora communities, not financially, but in terms of cultural and educational exchanges.
The shared experiences of facing hostility might strengthen the bonds between Israeli and American Jewish communities, leading to a more nuanced relationship - as the two parties understand more than ever.