The truth about why I love Israel
Today I had an important interview. The interviewer asked if I plan to stay in Israel. I told him, ‘Yes. I prefer the culture, and my family is here.’
That is only part of the story.
I was born in Tel Aviv in 1992 and grew up in Florida. I call both places home.
My father was born in what became Israel in 1946, two years before the state was reborn. When people say, “My grandmother is older than Israel,” I get to respond, “Oh yeah? My dad is older than Israel. I exist because of Israel. Deal with it.”
Israel is the reason I exist.
It is where my family fled when antisemitism gained power yet again in Europe. In Lithuania, where part of my family briefly diaspora’d, more than 95 percent of the Jewish population was murdered. In Poland, where another branch diaspora’d, 90 percent were murdered.
In Israel there are cemeteries with headstones dedicated to entire villages where families were slaughtered. The bodies were never found. The victims share one memorial stone for the town they came from. There is nowhere else in the world where I can mourn that part of my family.
Photo of my family in the early 60s
Jews are practical people. Infamously neurotic, perhaps, but practical. We saw most of our population wiped out whether they had lived in Israel for centuries or migrated here later.
As such, Israelis understand something very clearly: we built an oasis.
Israel was built so there would never again be Crusades, Farhud or pogroms wiping out Jewish communities. That angers those who want to wipe us out. Irony is lost on extremists who openly fantasize about nuking our country in the name of “peace.”
Judaism does not proselytize. But I do believe in proselytizing my countries and their values. I defend both Israel and the United States because they deserve defending. I defend them because I am blessed to appreciate secular rights and economic prosperity, in a world where those things are disappearing elsewhere.
Photo depicting Jewish women before and after the state was reborn.
So let me shift from the bittersweet reasons I love Israel to the sweeter ones.
Israel is cozy. Not perfect. Not glamorous. Definitely not Dubai aesthetic. But who needs that? Israel is Israel.
Frankly, to many outsiders it is a shithole. To Israelis, it is our shithole.
There is something deeply human about life here. You talk politics with strangers. You hug people you barely know. During war, neighbors check on each other. In quieter times, everyone argues over coffee.
I spent most of my life around non-Jews. Being surrounded by Jewish culture feels right. The rhythm of the week feels right. Not working on Friday instead of Sunday feels right. The music sounds right. The food tastes right. Even the smell of cannabis drifting out of a café at 10 in the morning smells right. Israel wakes up every sense.
Contrary to the lazy stereotypes, Jews do not believe we are “the chosen people.” Some believe we were the first monotheists. That’s all. I always found it bizarre when our haters claim Jews think we are superior. The joke itself is tired: ‘7k. Chosen people. Promised to us.’ Honestly, it offends me not just as a Jew, but as someone who appreciates comedy. It’s hack. It’s funny to people who need to be victims.
Jews do not imagine we control the world. C’mon. We cannot even get our holidays recognized around the world. In US, we are forced to work Fridays, sometimes even Yom Kippur. We are unapologetically misrepresented by media all the time.
What Jews do have is a very sharp sense of humor. It is one of the ways we survived.
We pray to survive. We do business to survive. We train our minds and bodies to survive. And people hate us for surviving, especially when they need someone to blame for their own personal failings.
Instead of learning from Jewish resilience, they invent conspiracies. They see invisible patterns rather than recognizing something obvious: many cultures built through diaspora share similar traits. Jewish culture is not so different from Indian or Italian cultures in that respect. Yet only our culture is trashed for surviving.
Israel toughens you up. It makes you ask where a missile is coming from before going to a shelter.
Comedian Yohay Sponder gets it.
“Best” is a meaningless label anyway. Jews know we are not perfect. Between our genetic disorders, our chronic stomach problems, and our lack of Olympic medals, Jewish supremacy would be a very strange theory for anyone to maintain.
The “chosen people,” if such a thing existed, would probably not spend so much time asking intrusive personal questions or arguing loudly in taxis. We wouldn’t be embarassing ourselves in Thailand.
Despite not being “chosen,” I am proud of my people, the world’s eternal scapegoat. I love the peculiarities of Jewish culture, from nosy taxi drivers to the occasional self-hating, nebbishy faux-intellectual who thinks insulting Jews will win him applause.
Besides, if there were truly “chosen” people, they would probably be defined by kindness. They would help when someone falls. In my life, I know where I have seen that instinct most often: Israel.
Israel is a home for Jews and not just Jews. Many African and Asian migrants live here amongst the Jews and Arabs. [Photo from Tel Aviv’s African Refugee Development Center]
Jews and Israelis do enormous amounts of charity work for a world that often hates us anyway. Jewish scientists win Nobel Prizes at wildly disproportionate rates. Israeli researchers share life-saving technology with countries that boycott them.
And still we are accused of being greedy, backwards, or uncultured.
Sometimes the only response is humor.
“Enjoy not having polio,” I say.
It is strange to watch people accuse the only major culture that does not proselytize of secretly trying to subvert the world.
If the hatred ever gets overwhelming, I walk outside.
I remind myself that I live in one of the few places where I can openly be a proud Jew. I think about the people who criticize Israel while living in segregated communities thousands of miles away, desperate to point fingers elsewhere.
Israel remains one of the few countries where young people and women can still walk around late at night without fear. They can be free.
And the beauty here is something else entirely.
Even the mundane is fascinating. A tree being cut down can make me stop and watch. Two people talking on a balcony captures my attention like a movie scene.
Elsewhere it would be boring. Here it feels alive.
There is also something undeniably hedonistic about Israel. The parties are good. The food is incredible. And in places like Tel Aviv or Herzliya, people who would be movie stars anywhere else barely stand out.
Near the beaches you see physiques that look like they came straight out of Dragon Ball Z.
And yes, since honesty is part of loving a country, the Israeli appreciation of physical beauty deserves mention too. Let us just say the local scenery is impressive any way you look at it.
Israelis are so beautiful it breaks tourists’ necks. Thi leads some visitors to go on spiritual journeys so intense they end up covering their eyes in public. Others simply fall in love with the chaos.
I personally lean liberal in my lifestyle choices. But I also value that Israel allows people to live freely in ways that are impossible in much of the region. As a volunteer with Olim, I know how hard it is for some to practice religion abroad.
Religious freedom matters just as much as secular freedom.
My love for Israel is complicated, but deep. It comes from history, family, and culture that stretches back thousands of years.
And honestly, I do not care if someone argues about the exact timeline of that tradition. It is a tradition that has brought meaning and joy to my life.
Every day I wake up in Israel, I am reminded that I love this country more than anyone else can hate it. [At least until I have to deal with Israeli bureaucracy, or worse, Israeli real estate agents.]
As an American-Israeli with a thick Southern accent, I may never fully sound Israeli to my neighbors. I may also not sound American. But Israel is my home.
And I plan to stay.
Even if the war ends imperfectly. Even if things get difficult.
I will stay because this is my country. Because it gave my family a future.
And because loving Israel, with all its flaws and beauty, feels exactly right.
The Nation of Israel loves our land, loves life, more than anyone can hate it, or can hate us.