I still can’t believe that we been living in Israel for more than eight years. What an emotional rollercoaster it’s been. Impossible to write in a thousand words, yet Israelis have a way of making the impossible possible. So I will try, or as they say here, az t’nasee!
We didn’t plan our aliyah. My wife and I agreed that at some point in our lives, we’d end up in Israel. Sometime. Like most British Jews, we sent our kids to Jewish schools, and they spent their gap years in Israel. Then one day in the summer of 2016, we decided it was that time. The right time to make aliyah.
Our oldest son had just got married, our daughter was a lone soldier already in the IDF, our middle son was on his gap year in Israel. And our youngest son had just started ‘big’ school. We put our house on the market, and six months later made our own exodus from the United Kingdom to the State of Israel.
Personally, professionally and even war-wise, we have not regretted our decision. I miss my mother, our son, our daughter-in-law, our grandson of course, plus others who are still there. But it’s people not places we miss, and the pros of aliyah definitely outweigh the cons.
The Goldings with their son Levi
No big party or fanfare to say goodbye, just family and friends for tea and tears the night before. Our container had left the month previously, so we departed for Heathrow with nine suitcases, six pieces of hand luggage and a thick file of official documents. The three of us went forward into the unknown.
But it wasn’t until a few days later, when I saw all our worldly possessions being unloaded on the docks of Ashdod, that I realised this was really happening. We were home.
So many things to learn and do – who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks? I now speak Hebrew that would make an Israeli proud. True, that’s an eight-year-old Israeli. But my children took to Ivrit like ducks to water. My wife and I still battle on l’at, l’at, slowly, slowly!
And we love being here. With Tel Aviv just round the corner, and less than an hour to Jerusalem on the train, what’s not to love? The ability to be able to visit the Kotel any time we want is a blessing.
The rockets were falling from Gaza now and again, but it wasn’t big news at the time. Soon the world was struck with Covid. Aeroplanes stopped flying, as the UK and Israel closed their gates. During that time my lovely older brother passed away, and I couldn’t be there for anything or anyone. That was a hard time.
Jordana Golding
Hamas’ rockets increased as did our time in the mamad, (the safe room). When you hear the Tzeva Adom (red alert siren), you have 90 seconds to get in to the room quickly and bolt the iron window. We were lucky to have one inside our home, and to live in central Israel. Some areas have just ten seconds or none at all. Some citizens make do with their stairwells or in a street shelter. After ten minutes it’s all clear, and out we go. For me, it felt unreal, until we started hearing explosions above us and then I realised Baruch Hashem, that the Iron Dome had come to our rescue.
This is not a piece about October 7, the worst massacre of Jews since the Shoah. The butchery, the rapes, the tortures, the brutal barbarity of the assault on unarmed civilians, the babies, the disabled, the elderly, and then the kidnappings, are forever seared into our memory. Almost everyone knows someone who was killed, injured or taken hostage. Our collective wound is still open until our last people alive and dead are returned.
Making night deliveries to the northern IDF camps
But to be Israeli means we mourn our dead, we support their families and the soldiers, and we carry on. You may read of the splits between religious and non-religious, gay, straight and beyond, left and right, black and white, Sephardi and Ashkenazi. But in crises, we are together as one and stronger for it.
Since then, we’ve coped with rockets, missiles and live drones from Gaza, Lebanon, Syria, and far-away Yemen and of course, Iran. And who could forget when Iran fired over 330 rockets and intercontinental ballistic missiles at the civilian population of Israel in the early hours of the morning?
As civilians, just walking through the streets we are under a constant threat of attack. When you hear the screeching of tyres, or somebody screaming, or the pop-popping of a gun, only to find out it’s a building site hammer not a gun, somebody speeding round a corner, not a ramming, or children just playing, it’s an anxious reality that you get used to.
Jordana’s Oct 7 artwork
What do Israelis think about the UK demonstrations, the BBC documentary, the selective, biased, anti-Israel editorials, videos and headlines? Of course we sympathise. But the BBC isn’t top of our priorities right now. As a journalist, I know the importance of getting the truth out there but now I understand why, for Israel, anti-Jewish propaganda is lower down the urgencies list. That’s because for me and most Israelis, the truth is those of us who live here are all fighting an existential war and we have skin in the game.
Our youngest son was conscripted into the Israeli Defence Force six months ago and I am proud to say he has become a two-stripe commander. We worry for him like any parent. Our soldiers are in Gaza, Lebanon, Syria, the Shomron and Judaea. We live daily with sirens, alerts, stabbings, bombs, rockets and rammings. Our soldiers fight for all of our lives.
So, after all that, you may be wondering why on earth would anyone choose to come here?
It’s because Israel is such a wonderful country. The places, like the people, are a mixture and a mass of contradictions. Jerusalem, Tel Aviv, Bnei Brak, Eilat, Bet Shemesh. The sun of the South and the snow of the North, and everywhere you’re no more than 40 minutes from the sea. We can go to supermarkets the size of a mega-warehouses for a one-stop Pesach shop. No need to go to half a dozen specialists. It makes Jewish living easier and special.
On a video call with my mum
But for me it’s the caring people who make Israel so unique. I think it’s just that we Jews are hardwired to live in this land. You don’t just exist here, you really do live. It’s the only Jewish country in the world, and there is a tremendous community spirit. There are so many inspirational stories of selfless acts of kindness.
We have joined thousands of folk who volunteer. My children and I helped farmers picking their crops and taking soldiers and equipment to their army bases. People collect boxes full of food, toys, torches, clothes, blankets, and toiletries for us to take to the tens of thousands of our evacuated people. Some of us cook, clean and help families whose young men and women are fighting on the frontline or have been killed. Some regularly visit army camps to make barbecues for the soldiers. So much goodness, resilience and unity pervade this country.
Living here gives you perspective that you just do not appreciate as a tourist. We made aliyah because we wanted to be part of Israel, part of the future of the Jewish people. So as we enjoy another Passover, why not come home yourself? Don’t just say: “Next year in Jerusalem!”, make it happen this year. Am Yisrael Chai!
Charles Golding was former editor-in-chief of Jewish News (UK); Boston Jewish Advocate (USA), Sunday Express deputy editor; Sunday Mirror features editor; TV producer and presenter on BBC Daytime and ITV’s Good Morning Britain; LBC controller of programmes and one of its presenters. He now runs a media and presentation service in Israel. bowtie.co.uk
