A Symphony of Hope: Beethoven’s Fifth in Tel Aviv

It is said that right before composing his iconic Fifth Symphony, Beethoven wrote that his oncoming deafness had “brought me to the verge of despair.” He questioned whether he had the strength to go on: “But little more and I would have put an end to my life.” From this very place of adversity and despair, Beethoven composed one of the most powerful musical expressions of hope.

If ever there was a musical metaphor for the place that I now call home – Israel – it is Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. Hearing it live in Tel Aviv this past Saturday night, just hours after the dramatic and heroic rescue of hostages, encapsulated Beethoven’s message of finding hope amidst despair.

Everywhere we turned there were people jubilantly waving Israeli flags, chanting “They brought them home, they brought them home!”

It was a warm night in Tel Aviv, but the electricity in the air cut through the humidity. Peni and I walked down Rothschild Boulevard on our way to the Charles Bronfman Auditorium, the home of the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra. Everywhere we turned there were people jubilantly waving Israeli flags, chanting “They brought them home, they brought them home!”

As we entered the auditorium, the atmosphere on this night was destined to be different from any other time I heard Beethoven’s Fifth.

I have always dreamt of being a symphony conductor. Growing up, and even to this day, one of my favorite forms of relaxation is standing in my living room with a conductor’s baton, playing Beethoven’s Fifth on my stereo, and conducting an imaginary orchestra. 

Given my dream of standing on that conductor’s podium, I decided that for this concert in Tel Aviv, I would splurge like I never have before: front row tickets, center aisle. It’s as close to that magic podium I have ever sat. When I purchased those tickets a few days earlier, I could never have anticipated what I would witness and hear from those seats.

The conductor I always dreamt of being came out onto the stage and took his traditional bows. Rotem Nir – a 26-year-old musical prodigy – would take command of Israel’s orchestra tonight, leading them through complex pieces by Mozart and Chopin, followed by Beethoven’s majestic Fifth Symphony.

As the orchestra took their seats, one musician – flutist Boaz Meirovitch – came forward and spoke to the audience. It was the message we were all waiting to hear. He spoke about the heroic rescue of hostages that had taken place earlier that day, and poignantly pointed out that “Here in Israel, moments of triumph are too often blended with pain and mourning. Liberated hostages, but also a fallen soldier – Arnon Zmora z”l. In his death, Arnon Zmora commanded the hostages he helped bring home – and all of us – to life.” 

Following these moving words, the 2,400 members of the audience rose to their feet, and accompanied by the harmonic blend of instruments played by the Israel Philharmonic, we sang our national anthem of hope: “Hatikvah.” There wasn’t a dry eye in the house. I told Peni that I have never been to a concert where the climax took place in the beginning. But this was only the beginning.

We had just finished paying tribute to a young fallen officer, and seeing the young Rotem Nir take command of the symphony conjured up poetic images of an Israeli officer leading his troops. 

It was the beginning of a musical journey, with a 26-year-old at the helm. There was something deeply symbolic about seeing such a young person in charge. We had just finished paying tribute to a young fallen officer, and seeing the young Rotem Nir take command of the symphony conjured up poetic images of an Israeli officer leading his troops. Arnon Zmora was a leader of troops who fight for freedom, and on this night – Rotem Nir was a leader of a different sort of troops, those whose music and art represent the highest expressions of the very freedom that Arnon fought for. 

With the confidence, skill, talent and creativity of a combat officer, Rotem Nir’s masterful leadership of his “orchestral troops” produced one of the most powerful and creative interpretations of Beethoven’s Fifth I have ever heard. Like the State of Israel, it was young, fresh, dramatic and upbeat all at once. Sitting up front, Peni and I felt the music rush through our bodies. I felt spiritually uplifted, a religious moment I haven’t experienced in many years. It took everything in me to resist jumping on stage and joining this young maestro. I rejoiced in watching him live out my dream.

The next day, Peni and I went to Jerusalem, joining thousands of our fellow Israelis at the Har Herzl Military Cemetery, where we would pay our final respects to Arnon Zmora z”l. It was painful hearing his mother, wife, brother, comrades and friends, plus recordings of his little children, all eulogize a young son, husband, sibling, father, warrior and super cool guy who had his whole life ahead of him. 

Arnon’s funeral brought me back to Meirovitch’s painful words: “Here in Israel, moments of triumph are too often blended with pain and mourning. Liberated hostages, but also a fallen soldier – Arnon Zmora z”l.”

But it also reminded me of Boaz’s closing words, that “in his death, Arnon Zmora commanded us to life.”

In the face of adversity and despair, of Oct. 7, hostages, war and countless funerals, how do we follow Arnon Zmora’s “command to life”?

With “Three G’s and an E-flat – Ta, Ta, Ta, Ta.” With a musical symphony that celebrates life. With 2,400 people gathering together, not at a political rally, but at a cultural event, at a concert whose musicians and their talented leader help us affirm life in the face of adversity.

How magical it was, that in our great anticipation of hearing the iconic opening four notes of Beethoven’s Fifth, we first stood up, accompanied by the Israel Philharmonic, and sang the iconic four words of our own symphony – “Od Lo Avda Tikvatenu” – “We Haven’t Lost Hope.”

Like Beethoven, it’s those four notes that keep us going.

Rabbi Daniel Bouskila is the international director of the Sephardic Educational Center.