For Years, Israelis Trusted the Army to Defend and Inform Them. Now Many Feel Abandoned 

10 October 2023, Israel, Sa'ad: Israeli forces patrol areas along the Israeli-Gaza border as fighting between Israeli troops and Hamas gunmen continues. (dpa)
10 October 2023, Israel, Sa'ad: Israeli forces patrol areas along the Israeli-Gaza border as fighting between Israeli troops and Hamas gunmen continues. (dpa)
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For Years, Israelis Trusted the Army to Defend and Inform Them. Now Many Feel Abandoned 

10 October 2023, Israel, Sa'ad: Israeli forces patrol areas along the Israeli-Gaza border as fighting between Israeli troops and Hamas gunmen continues. (dpa)
10 October 2023, Israel, Sa'ad: Israeli forces patrol areas along the Israeli-Gaza border as fighting between Israeli troops and Hamas gunmen continues. (dpa)

It was, they thought, an ironclad social contract. Israeli citizens would serve in the military and live along enemy borders. In exchange, the army would defend them.

That contract was shattered Saturday when hundreds of Hamas fighters breached Israel’s defenses from the Gaza Strip, pouring in by air, land and sea on a rampage that would leave hundreds dead. The infiltration caught Israel’s storied high-tech army completely unaware and stunned a country that prides itself on military prowess.

Further shocking Israelis was how long it took the military to respond. As thousands in southern Israel suddenly found themselves besieged, their cries for help went unanswered for hours. Holed up inside homes and safe rooms as militants rampaged, they turned in desperation to social media, to journalists and to friends, beseeching the army to save them.

The weekend attacks and the military's response brought an unsettling new sense of vulnerability and abandonment. Thousands of families had no idea whether loved ones were alive or had been taken as captives to Gaza. At the height of the violence, there was no one to turn to for guidance or information. Contact centers were eventually set up, but the focus was on soliciting information from families rather than offering it.

Six members of Jonathan Silver's family are missing, and he approached authorities for help. At least three relatives are captive in Gaza, he said, and the others are assumed to be there, too. He saw video of a cousin and two children taken hostage from their kibbutz, Nir Oz.

But the family has received no information, Silver said.

"We tried to reach everybody – the homeland command, police, friends, acquaintances, people on the kibbutz," he said. And for hours, "there was no one to talk to."

He's particularly concerned for his aunt, who has Parkinson’s disease and needs her medication. He's frustrated, but he also said now is not the time to criticize too deeply.

"I have a lot of questions and a lot to say. The day of reckoning will come," he said, but "now I prefer to stand beside the army."

In Israel, military service is compulsory for most Jewish men and women. In the eyes of many citizens, it is the glue that keeps the country together in a region widely hostile to its presence, and it's recognized worldwide for its technological advances and intelligence-gathering capabilities.

That it could be taken so completely by surprise by an armed group is something Israelis are hard-pressed to fathom.

For Merav Leshem Gonen, a feeling of helplessness gripped her when her daughter called in a panic from a music festival that was attacked.

"Mommy, we were bombed. They shot at us. The car was shot, we cannot drive, everybody here is hurt," Gonen recounted her daughter saying.

"She was talking to me and said, ‘Mommy, help us, we don’t know what to do.’ And I’m saying, ’We love you, and it’s OK. We are trying to find a way to take you out of there. We are sending people,’" Gonen told a news conference outside Tel Aviv. "And I know I’m lying because we don’t have answers, and we didn’t have any answers. Nobody had."

Journalist Amir Tibon had good fortune that many others didn’t: While the army struggled to regroup, his 62-year-old father, a retired general, entered the breach. Noam Tibon headed from his home in Tel Aviv to Nahal Oz, a kibbutz where his son, his wife and their two young daughters were hunkering in a safe room. On the way, he connected with another retired general and a group of commandoes.

After firefights with gunmen along the way, the elder Tibon extricated his son and family. More than a dozen others at Nahal Oz did not survive.

"The terms of the contract between us and the state had always been clear: We protect the border, and the state protects us," Amir Tibon wrote in an article retelling the rescue for his newspaper, Haaretz.

"We fulfilled our share of the deal heroically. For all too many of our beloved friends and neighbors, on this black day of Saturday, October 7, the state of Israel did not fulfill its share."

Maayan Zin said she learned that her two daughters had been abducted when a relative sent her photos from a Telegram group appearing to show them sitting on mattresses in captivity. She's among dozens of distraught families who say there's been a lack of support from Israeli authorities about their loved ones held in Gaza.

"There is no information. No one has contacted me since yesterday. Not the army, not the government, not the police," she said.

At first, she couldn't believe what she saw in the images. "I thought it was Photoshopped," she said.

But videos she found online confirmed her worst fears. Dafna, 15, and Ella, 8, were shown weeping and terrified. Their father, her ex-husband, was seen being taken across the border into Gaza, his leg bleeding heavily.

"Just bring my daughters home," Zin pleaded. "Bring everybody home."



West Bank Refugee Camp Gets Foretaste of UNRWA's Demise

UN workers clean up after the Israeli raid - AFP
UN workers clean up after the Israeli raid - AFP
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West Bank Refugee Camp Gets Foretaste of UNRWA's Demise

UN workers clean up after the Israeli raid - AFP
UN workers clean up after the Israeli raid - AFP

Residents of Nur Shams camp in the occupied West Bank are fearful for their future after an Israeli raid this week damaged the UN agency for Palestinian refugees office there.

The 13,000 inhabitants of the camp near the northern city of Tulkarem depend heavily on the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees.

UNRWA notably runs two schools, a clinic and sanitation services in Nur Shams.

Stunned refugees watched as workers cleared rubble from around the office, which was almost totally destroyed in an "anti-terrorist" operation on Thursday.

"For us, it's UNRWA or nothing," Shafiq Ahmad Jad, who runs a phone shop in the camp, told AFP.

"For the refugees... they look to UNRWA as their mother," said Hanadi Jabr Abu Taqa, an agency official in charge of the northern West Bank.

"So imagine if they lost their mother."

UNRWA chief Philippe Lazzarini blamed the destruction on Israeli forces, saying they had "severely damaged" the office.

But the military firmly denied the accusations, telling AFP that the damage was "likely" caused by explosives planted by "terrorists".

The office will have to be relocated, "a significant investment" according to Roland Friedrich, the agency's head in the West Bank.

"The psychological impact, of course, is devastating," he added after speaking to residents on Saturday.

- 'Attack on right of return' -

From his phone shop whose facade was torn off, Jad watched as excavators removed rubble and technicians repaired communications cabling.

He said he believed the chaos was linked to the Israeli parliament's adoption late last month of a law banning "UNRWA's activities on Israeli territory".

Were the agency to disappear even from the Palestinian territories like Tulkarem, he said the streets would fill with even more rubbish and sick people would go without care.

"To want to eliminate it is to want to eliminate the Palestinian question," Jad said.

Fellow camp resident Mohammed Said Amar, in his 70s, said Israel was attacking UNRWA "for political ends, to abolish the right of return".

He was referring to the principle that Palestinians who fled the land or were expelled when Israel was created in 1948 have the right to return, as do their descendants.

He insisted that Palestinian armed groups did not use the UNRWA premises, which locals consider "sacred".

If the army destroyed the building, as he believed, this meant it always wanted to target it.

Nihaya al-Jundi fumed that daily life was paralysed after every raid and that impassable roads left residents isolated.

Nur Shams needs international organizations like UNRWA to rebuild, said Jundi, whose center for the disabled was damaged and where the wheelchair ramp collapsed.

The camp, established in the early 1950s, was long a fairly quiet, tight-knit community.

But in recent years, armed movements have taken root there against a backdrop of violence between Palestinians and Israelis, economic insecurity and no political horizons.

- 'They worry' -

Two days after the Israeli operation, the internet was still not repaired and some main roads remained an obstacle course.

UNRWA's operations have resumed, however.

"The first thing we do is that we make sure that we announce that the schools are open," said the agency's Jabr Abu Taqa.

"We know how important it is for us to bring the children to what they consider a safe haven," she added.

As she strolled through the camp, many anxious residents approached her.

One young man pointed to a ransacked barber's shop and asked: "What did he do to deserve this, the barber? He no longer has work, money. What will he do?"

Mustafa Shibah, 70, worried about his grandchildren. He turned his radio's volume all the way up during the raids -- but the little ones were not fooled.

"My granddaughter wakes up (from the raids) and bursts into tears," he said.

"They worry, they have trouble getting to school because of the (damaged) road."

For him, the threats to UNRWA are just the latest example of the suffering of Nur Shams residents who feel abandoned by Palestinians elsewhere.

"Why is it only us that have to pay while they dance in Ramallah and have a good life in Hebron?" he asked.

He said Israel "feels they can do anything" with no one to stop them.