Moshe Yehuda Akerman ’15

Posted on September 22, 2024

“It has to be a wake-up call because we have no other option.”

My name is Moshe Yehuda, Amitei Bronfman 2015. I’m a student at the Hebrew University majoring in Philosophy, Economics and Political Science. I live on Ha-Ari Street, right behind the Netanyahu couple. We’re not particularly good neighbors, but we are right in the heart of the protests, and we constantly have border police (Magav) in the building. So it’s a lot of fun.

Dissonance

One day, I was sitting through a lecture and the professor was talking about economics and GDP growth. At the same time, I was looking at Telegram – I follow the news closely on Telegram, on channels that cover Arab affairs and news in Arabic, Persian etc. – and I saw there were bombings in the north, for the umpteenth time. I knew that a good friend of mine, also a Bronfman alum, was up there in some war room. I looked at the lecturer, and I looked at Telegram, and then I looked outside the window. It was a beautiful day, the trees were green, and the birds were singing. And at that moment, I just couldn’t bear the dissonance. I felt there were two realities. I felt that if I hadn’t known there was a war on, it could have been a story. I wasn’t on the front lines, I wasn’t fighting, I wasn’t in Gaza, I wasn’t in the north, I wasn’t in the West Bank. And at that moment, I just ran outside and cried.

What does it mean to be a student in wartime? It means sitting for 12 hours trying to study for an exam while in the background you know that the Iranians are talking about an attack, and you have friends who are now in the reserves, and family members who are being drafted, and the gap is simply inconceivable. There are two realities, two universes, just a few hundred kilometers apart, and they tell two completely different stories. But we mustn’t disconnect. We have a moral obligation to stay connected to what’s happening, to understand the reality in which we live. We must understand the price that some members of our society are paying and what they are experiencing. There is actually a tremendous inequality here because this war does not affect each of us in the same way. When I talk to my friend who was evacuated from Be’eri and has been in combat for several months, he doesn’t have the same life as me. And I can’t talk to him, eye to eye, and then sit in a class on ethics and political philosophy.

The Civilian Commission of Inquiry

About two months ago several groups representing evacuees, families of hostages, survivors of the October 7th attacks and bereaved families, began organizing. They said, “Okay, the Israeli government is not willing to investigate the failures that led us to October 7th, fine. We will create a civilian commission of inquiry. It will include judges, it will follow protocols, and it will operate according to a charter.” Obviously, this is not an official government investigation, but its goal is to pressure the Israeli government to set up an official commission and say, “If you’re not going to do it, we will.”

Somehow I ended up getting involved. Initially, I was terrified, because I was faced with a heavy dilemma. On the one hand, I obviously deeply empathized with the pain, suffering, and sorrow and completely agreed with the need for such an investigation. On the other hand, I was unsure about “undermining” the government, especially during wartime. I think this is a dilemma that affects many Israelis at the moment. Should we be airing our dirty laundry in public, or should it be dealt with internally? Is this the right time to do it, even if it’s the right thing to do? I was very conflicted. But seeing people whom I highly respect participate in the inquiry helped me decide this was something worth doing.

By April ’74 – a mere 6 months after the ‘73 Yom Kippur War – Golda Meir had resigned as Prime Minister and an official inquiry was already in place. Now, here we were in June, and while the war was still ongoing, the government wasn’t showing any intention of taking responsibility. As we saw it, there was no reason to wait. Evacuees who are not receiving proper assistance need it now.

I participated in drafting the charter and defining the guidelines for the inquiry. It was clear that we would be investigating neither security issues nor the military. Obviously, we don’t have clearance for that; but also, that isn’t our goal. Our focus is entirely on the government and their handling of events, not just on October 7th but over the past decade leading up to it. Essentially, our aim is to understand how we ended up in this situation. We outlined which areas to investigate, what questions to ask, and how to address the issues. In mid-July, the commission started operating and was opened to the public.

There are some very interesting and significant figures involved, whether they be families of hostages or of fallen soldiers, or former senior officials in the military and government. For example, Lieberman gave testimony the other week, reflecting on the last decade as Defense Minister. I think these testimonies are very important.

The State Is Us

I think the inquiry reflects something very, very Israeli, which is that we Israelis feel that the State belongs to us. Dr. Micah Goodman talks about this in his book, The Eighth Day. He says, there is no such thing as ‘the State’ and ‘the citizens.’ Essentially, as a citizen, the State belongs to me and is my responsibility. I really relate to that.

I think we saw this very clearly on October 7th, in both the military and civilian mobilization, which were impressive in equal measure. And we’re seeing it now in this commission of inquiry. I find it remarkable. I think it’s about saying, “The State is ours, the State is us. If the State won’t do it, then we will.” On the one hand, I think we’ve shown ourselves that we are strong and capable of taking action. On the other hand, it really raises a lot of troubling questions.

Hard Questions

This war seems to have raised a lot of questions I never imagined I’d need to ask as an Israeli citizen. Fundamental questions. I study political science, and I have the privilege of sitting in an air-conditioned classroom and thinking about these things. It’s a very interesting and very unsettling time to think about the State and ask how it should be built, what its institutions should be, what the social contract between citizens and the State is: Is it holding up or do we need to change it? The basic definition of a non-functioning state is one that cannot provide two things: Welfare and security. This war has created an upheaval that has shaken us in many ways. We all hoped it would be over in a matter of a few days. It’s been almost a year. I’m not a security or military expert, but it seems to me that this is not going to end anytime soon.

I find myself thinking a lot about how we ended up in this situation, about the inheritance we have received from previous generations. I wonder, “Where were you? What happened in the previous decades that led us to where we are today?” It’s very unsettling. I served for six years in the Intelligence Corps. Every former intelligence officer will say they are not at all connected to what happened, and that’s really true for me; but it doesn’t matter – I was part of that system. It makes me wonder what happened to those six years. When something like this happens, all of the cracks start to show. I think we’ve all been experiencing some doubt about things we thought were stable. I feel it not only in relation to our sense of security as civilians, but also in my personal life. I wonder what things in my life are not what I thought, what stories I have told myself that are inaccurate. On a personal level, regarding the army, it has really rattled me. A year ago, I was proud to  say I had served in Intelligence. Suddenly, after what happened, it’s embarrassing to say you’re an intelligence officer. It’s no longer something you say with such pride. So a part of your identity, maybe the most significant part for over half a decade, has been deeply shaken.

A Wake-Up Call

I think these cracks have revealed many problematic issues in our society, and even more so in the military, which might be the extreme expression of it. Passivity, arrogance, apathy. Knowing that something is going on and nothing is being done about it, or that something is wrong and saying, “It will be okay…” There were failures in conduct within the Intelligence Corps, from high-ranking officials down to ordinary people like us. I think this is truly a wake-up call, especially for the military. I know, who am I to say such a thing?

But it’s also a wake-up call for Israelis as a society. It’s a wake-up call about how we operate as a group, how we organize our institutions.

It has to be a wake-up call because we have no other option.