Humanity at War

Visiting Kibbutz Be’eri was a day I will never forget. I saw with my own eyes a modern-day Holocaust of the Jewish people in the State of Israel, a combination of words I could never imagine putting together. I saw remnants of the darkest and most unthinkable acts—acts that were unimaginable in 2023. 

I heard firsthand accounts and saw the devastation of what happened on October 7, 2023, in towns and villages throughout the south of Israel. I listened to stories that I had not previously heard publicly, stories that have changed my understanding of the evil that exists in the world. 

These stories have changed me.

It’s been a week since my visit, and I can still see the swarms of mosquitos and moths drawn to the remnants of blood across this once beautiful and serene property and community. I can still smell the stench of death, which permeates the ground. Bullet shells sat next to crayons on the table of a nursery school. I heard direct accounts from the families whose homes were lit on fire to smoke them out of their safe rooms, families that were then brutally attacked and slaughtered. I learned the story of a woman who was raped, mutilated and then shot in the head and killed in front of her husband who was forced to watch. He was then castrated and shot to death. Unspeakable atrocities of rape, murder and mutilation of men, women, children and babies. Yes, babies. 

I have a good friend who survived that horrific day. He took me from house to house, putting a name and story to each person whose life was ended or forever altered that day. His grandparents were one of the founding families of Kibbutz Be’eri 77 years ago. I’m sure they could not imagine that their son, daughter in-law and grandson with his fiancée would one day be locked in a safe room, with only a door separating them from an invading enemy that was attempting to destroy everything in its path. My friend’s fiancé made him promise that he would take the only weapon they had, a kitchen knife, and kill her before Hamas entered, as he saw his mother hiding under a small bed and his father helping him hold the door.

I learned that this peaceful community, dedicated to communal living, had employed so many Palestinians from Gaza over the years. They had work permits and would come across the border daily to work alongside this thriving community. They were paid well and treated like family, and they repaid this by providing Hamas with detailed intelligence that led to the slaughter. I learned that some of the worst atrocities committed were not by Hamas, but by civilians who poured across the border just to loot, to rape, to murder, to destroy.

But destruction was not all that I saw. I was also given the gift of seeing why Jews have survived for thousands upon thousands of years in the face of bigotry and antisemitism. I saw how love, strength and perseverance can overcome the most evil of forces.

I was inspired by meeting Hadar, a brave 13-year-old girl who was shot three times through her safe room door, who helped her father survive but whose mother and brother tragically did not. I was inspired seeing her father return that day to the kibbutz, only a few weeks removed from losing his leg, to go into the fields to pick mangoes and avocadoes for the harvest. A man who had lost so much was there with a smile on his face to help his community rise to its feet and continue to function. He has chosen not to succumb to fear and hate like the monsters who shattered his life but to allow the love for his surviving child, community and country to push him to do what needs to be done. 

I met Yoel, who quietly saved hundreds of lives by battling the terrorists for hours, even after being shot in the back, realizing he was the only barrier between unspeakable torture and the innocent, including his five children who were hiding nearby. He refused to talk about himself or his heroics that day but focused on his community and those heroes who battled but did not survive.

I learned the story of Amit, who helped stem Yoel’s bleeding. This talented young woman was a singer, a medic, a sister and a daughter who was brutally gunned down. Amit had a beautiful voice and a love for life, serving as part of Israel’s Magen David Adom for many of her young years. This young woman spent her final hours tending to the wounded, only to be ruthlessly gunned down at point-blank range for the sin of being born Jewish in Israel. 

I went to the hotel where the community is living temporarily in the Dead Sea. I had the honor of meeting the manager who was there to greet the buses at 3:00 a.m. on October 8th when the survivors of Be’eri pulled up. He became emotional as he told me the story of these men, women and children coming off the bus naked, bloodied and empty-handed as their belongings had been incinerated and destroyed—children whose innocence had been shattered and lives forever altered just as they were beginning. These people stepped off the bus and have continued trying to turn this hotel into a home. A few days ago, they turned the tables on the hotel staff and decided to provide them with lunch as a sign of gratitude for their kindness and hospitality: the very best of humanity against the backdrop of the very worst.  

I met Michal, who is now living in a hotel at the Dead Sea with the survivors of her community. She is there with her husband and three children. Her parents were shot to death by these barbarians. Her oldest daughter was the first grandchild and was especially close to her grandparents, who were taken from her just a few houses away. Unable to pry the safe room door, the monsters just started firing shots into the room, looking to kill these innocent people without ever laying eyes on them. While mourning her parents, Michal ensures her kids meet with trauma counselors, go to school, and deal with the loss of so many of their loved ones.

With immeasurable strength, these survivors have continued to push forward with the power of their love for one another and the love of the broader community.

With immeasurable strength, these survivors have continued to push forward with the power of their love for one another and the love of the broader community. I saw the surviving children running around and playing despite the hell they’ve survived. They could still experience laughter and joy. I saw them lighting Hannukah candles, once again bringing light into this tremendous darkness brought on by the evil deeds of Hamas and those Palestinian civilians who came across the border that day into their community.

Then I came home. 

I went to my 10-year-old daughter’s school today for her winter concert. While she was smiling and singing, my mind kept flashing to the elementary school in Be’eri that was littered with blood, bullet holes, shell casings and scars from grenade explosions. How could anyone do this to the most innocent of our society? How could they destroy this innocence with excitement and glee?

My thoughts and prayers are with the young men and women of the IDF who are now fighting this ultimate evil in Gaza. Before October 7th, I would say they were fighting for NEVER AGAIN, but I now know this term is aspirational. Seeing antisemitism explode at home and across the world has made it abundantly clear that our people will always have to fight for their survival, and nothing can be taken for granted.

What I’ll say to the masses that have come out in support of Hamas, take a moment to reflect on the facts here. It feels like a noble cause to recognize and support what appears to be a marginalized community. I know you want to feel part of a movement to support those that you view as oppressed. But your intentions are misguided. Go deeper than a Tik Tok video. Learn the facts and the history of the region.

And most importantly, if you stand with evil, just know that it will soon come knocking on your door.

Neil Book is Chairman and CEO of Jet Support Services Inc (JSSI), entrepreneur and philanthropist.