Drop by drop, the grief of this nation

On the night Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated, then President Robert Kennedy had to break the news of King’s death to an Indiana audience. His words form one of the most extraordinary speeches ever written, in their brevity and powerful simplicity.

Frankly, and calmly, Kennedy addressed the anger and hate that underlies irrational acts and the profundity of his words. Then he quoted the Greek poet Aeschylus:

“And even in our sleep,
pain which cannot forget
falls drop by drop upon the heart,
until in our own despair,
against our will,
comes wisdom through the awful grace of God.”

I thought of Kennedy addressing his shocked and traumatised nation as I watched on the cortege bearing the bodies of the four Israeli hostages travelling from Gaza in the south of the country to central Tel Aviv.

Drop by drop the grief of this nation: the soldiers carrying the coffins with an ineffable grief on their young faces; the affront of adult caskets for the Bibas baby and infant; the persistent horror of that iconic video of October 7 of the children and their mother Shiri carrying Ariel under one arm, Kfir under the other. Oh, how heavy the burden of bewildered children; Oh, how aching the soul of a fearful, vulnerable mother.

The body of that remarkable 84-year-old, Oded Lifshitz, a peace activist who worked with his wife to aid Palestinian citizens get to Israeli hospitals across the border, was now ignobly transported back to the Red Cross.

At the handover point the strutting Hamas terrorists staged a spectacle with teenagers taking selfies and kids running around as if they were at a fun fair. Oh, the heart of darkness that rejoices in death.

Drop by drop the grief of this nation, the pain of my people. They line the streets of highway 4, Kvish Arba, that runs along Israel’s coastal plain from the Erez Border Crossing with the Gaza Strip, a highway of horror on October 7 2023 littered with bodies from the Hamas barbarism. They stand in the driving rain with Israeli flags and yellow flags. High school children leave their classes to sing Hatikvah, artists cancel their concerts, people leave work early. It feels like Yom Hazikaron, the National Day of Remembrance, a day of collective mourning.

They stand quietly. There is no celebration of death here, rather as one banner proclaims "Chibbuk Gadol", a huge embrace of love and life.

The father of one of the young women spotters who was killed on October 7 encapsulates the grief: "Heaven is crying today," he says, as the rain and tears run down his face.

And the voice of heaven is invoked by the Chief Rabbi of the Army as he recites the plangent Psalm 83 while the coffins are tenderly placed before him : ‘Oh God, have no silence, do not be silent …For behold Your enemies stir and those who hate You …said, 'Come let us destroy them from being a nation' …”

In his speech after the death of Martin Luther King, Kennedy said: "What we need in the United States is not division; what we need in the United States is not hatred; what we need in the United States is not violence and lawlessness, but love and wisdom and compassion toward one another, a feeling of justice to those who still suffer in our country."

This sentiment too was in the spirit of the people of Israel as they watched the bodies of these youngest hostages come home. "We ask of you forgiveness," said President Isaac Herzog to the bereft families. A woman who lost her husband to a terror attack in 2002 watcher his killer being freed in exchange for the release of hostages. She said she was crying but supports the deal because she wishes for a better future for Israel.

This was the spirit of the people who poured like river of grief and defiance, solidarity and strength into Hostage Square in central Tel Aviv. They came with pride proclaiming" "Yesh Atid", there is a future.

We have no other land; we are here to stay. Through the awful and awesome grace of God, we will emerge from this suffering stronger and wiser. We have no other choice.