Earlier this month, in what seems like a different era, I went with a friend to a performance of Ani ve’ata, a tribute to the genius of Israeli cultural icon Arik Einstein. Because of regular rocket attacks – mainly by Iranian-sponsored Houthis in Yemen – before the show began, along with the reminder to switch off phones, there was an announcement to stay in place in the event of a siren.
It was three days before June 13’s Operation Rising Lion, when Israel struck at Iranian nuclear and regime targets in a brilliant feat of intelligence and daring. The ballistic missiles fired directly from Iran in response brought the country, including cultural activities, to a halt.
But the vast majority of Israelis were relieved – and proud – that action was finally being taken to neutralize the existential threat presented by ayatollahs who promised to destroy the Jewish state.
The show was much-needed escapism, and the songs continued playing in my mind. Performed by the Revolution Orchestra, conducted by Roy Oppenheim, it was extraordinary – not least because Einstein died in 2013. It was at times surreal to see his image performing in the video footage to innovative, new arrangements. While the Jerusalem Theatre hall was packed, there was something intimate about the evening.
Everyone had their favorite song.
It’s difficult to describe the impact of this quintessential Sabra singer and actor. After Einstein’s sudden death at the age of 74, many eulogies described him as “the soundtrack of the nation.” You have to understand the nature of Israeli life – the collective ups and downs, and the tendency to sing along as we ride the national roller-coaster.
The show’s name comes from Einstein’s “Ani ve’ata” – “You and I will change the world.” The first song in the line-up was a version of “Sa le’at” – “Drive Slowly” – recalling the days “when we drove to Eilat singing Beatles’ songs in harmony.” Since the outbreak of the war sparked by Hamas’s mega-atrocity on October 7, 2023, one line has been going in a loop in my mind: “Eizeh miskenim hahayalim sheshochavim achshav bebotz” pitying the “poor soldiers who are lying in the mud at the moment.”
And it is almost impossible not to be moved by Einstein’s ultimate “Empty Nest Syndrome” song: “Oof Gozal,” “Fly, little bird, slice the sky, fly wherever you want. But don’t forget, there’s an eagle in the sky. Be careful.”
As Einstein sang: “Kulanu yeladim shel hahaim” (“We’re all children of life.”)
THE RETURN of soldier Gilad Schalit from five years of Hamas captivity in 2011 is engrained in the Israeli collective consciousness with Einstein’s “Kama tov shebata habaita” (How good it is that you’ve come home) – a sentiment expressed manifold with the current hostage situation. This week, three bodies were retrieved, leaving 50 in Hamas terror tunnels, of whom some 20 are believed to be alive.
It might be mid-2025, but time in Israel is still measured in terms of the number of days since October 7, 2023. That’s when Iranian-sponsored Hamas led the invasion into southern Israel in which some 1,200 were slaughtered – many raped, tortured, and burned to death.
Israeli resistance and resistance
Israel has been fighting back, and, as we have seen, Hamas rocket power from Gaza, and Hezbollah capabilities from Lebanon have been very much diminished.
The famous Israeli resilience is stillvery much evident – volunteers have been providing a broad range of services, including assistance to the newly displaced; local mothers organized swaps of books and games via WhatsApp groups while the kids were stuck at home; and groups bombarded members with free lectures and offers of online yoga.
Nonetheless, it’s easy to identify with the words of “Pesek zman,” addressing the need to take a break and “sit looking at the sea without thinking.”
One moment, I found myself singing along to “Lama li lakahat lelev?” (“Why take it to heart?”) and the next I was sitting with the neighbors in the shelter, whistling the tune of “Everyone is a bit afraid in the dark.”
And then there is Arkadi Duchin’s “I have love and it will triumph,” which Einstein made his own. Or rather, all of ours. These are “hits” of the kind we love – musical hits.
There are love songs, children’s songs, unabashedly Zionist songs, and expressions of concern. To borrow a phrase from another of his hits, Einstein is utterly “Totzeret ha’aretz” – “Made in Israel.”
Einstein, a recluse who in later years refused to perform in public, would probably have liked the way his music lives on. Although it does raise interesting questions about the posthumous rights of artists to their own legacy in the age of artificial intelligence.
EINSTEIN STEERED clear of politics, notwithstanding his love for Hapoel Tel Aviv Football Club, perceived as left-of-center, and a few songs that turned into anthems for peace. I wonder whether that would have survived today’s divisive politics. By the way, the Iranian regime deliberately fosters these divides using online bots and other means.
It didn’t take long for the “Just not Bibi” brigade to divert the credit for the brilliant Operation Rising Lion from Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu to Yitzhak Rabin while at the same time deriding Netanyahu for waiting so long to carry it out, despite decades of warnings.
The double standards continue to be astonishing. Countries that oppose Israel taking action in Gaza are in favor of the Jewish state doing “the dirty work” in Iran, to use the phrase of German Chancellor Friedrich Merz, who was brave enough to speak out. They seek to buy Israeli arms while limiting weapons sales to Israel, which is on the frontlines of a global war.
The Islamic Republic has been openly pursuing “The Bomb,” while chanting “Death to Israel” and “Death to America.” Iranian leaders told themselves so often that Israel was weak that they believed it. There was a certain poetic justice in Israel hitting the “Countdown clock” in central Tehran – ticking away the days to the planned destruction of Israel in 2040. Iran is patient, but it’s not subtle.
Iran has sponsored its proxies Hamas, Hezbollah, and the Houthis, among others, who have carried out rocket fire and acts of terrorism in Israel and elsewhere. Imagine what would happen if this regime, dedicated to Shi’ite global jihad, were armed with “dirty bombs.”
Despite Israel’s remarkable defense systems, there have been several direct hits. Remember: every rocket indiscriminately fired from Iran is a war crime, whether or not it causes loss of life and damage.
The 28 fatalities in the “12 Day War” are heartbreaking. They include a seven-year-old Ukrainian girl in Israel to receive cancer treatment, Holocaust survivors, and at least four people killed in their homes just hours after news of a US-brokered ceasefire was announced on Tuesday.
Even when there is no loss of life, the hits can be devastating.
The missile that struck Beersheba’s Soroka Medical Center reduced the capacity of the facility that serves most of southern Israel, including the Bedouin community. It’s a hospital that registers some 17,000 births a year. The destruction of laboratories at the Weizmann Institute of Science in Rehovot is incalculable.
Decades of life-saving medical research was destroyed. It’s not only a war crime, it’s a crime against humanity.
According to government figures published on Monday, some 28,000 rockets and missiles have been fired by Iran and its proxies on Israel since October 7, 2023. But due to the Israeli action, Iranian ballistic missile stockpiles are considerably lower than they were before June 13.
The entire region is being changed for the better.
Thankfully, US President Donald Trump is not the type of guy to sit back and sing Lennon’s “Imagine.” On June 21, he gave the go-ahead for Operation Midnight Hammer, allowing US planes to hit Iran’s nuclear plants in Fordow, Natanz, and Isfahan, helping Israel eliminate the immediate threat of Iranian nuclearization.
As I write these lines midweek, although the Trump-sponsored ceasefire is meant to be in effect, it has already been violated by Tehran.
How will things turn out? Cue Einstein’s: “Life has not yet returned to normal. No, the wounds have not yet healed… What will be? Time will tell. Maybe this needs more time.”
Perhaps his “Shir shel aharei milhama,” written with Shem Tov Levy, should be given the poignant last word: “This is a song after war. It always reminds me of hope.”