Israelis stand by their cars for the two minutes of silent reflection on Yom HaShoah
(Source: Hananya Naftali)
Pausing for a Different Kind of Siren: Israel on Yom HaShoah (Holocaust Remembrance Day)
By Randy Pinsky
On Yom HaShoah, a haunting siren causes all of Israel to come to a halt. For a full two minutes, drivers stop and get out of their cars, individuals cease all activities - a nation in unity, pausing to pay respect to all those lost in the Holocaust and those who survived with strength and courage.
We interviewed three Israelis, all granddaughters of survivors, to share the truly unique Israeli experience of Yom HaShoah.
How is Yom HaShoah Commemorated in Israel?
Lilach Ben Zvi (LBZ)[1]: The Holocaust is present in the Israeli DNA in many ways through education, culture, and politics. Yom HaShoah is not just an annual encounter; rather, it is a topic that is constantly present.
With the awareness of the advancing age of survivors, there has been an emphasis on connecting to the Holocaust through direct encounters and personal testimonies.
Keren Zach (KZ)[2]: Yom HaShoah is a day where we reflect on what our people have been through, remember all those we lost, and be thankful we are here today in our country.
Michal Bental (MB)[3]: In Israel, Yom HaShoah is observed from sunset until the following evening. During this window, the entire country undergoes a profound transformation.
National laws mandate the closure of entertainment venues and businesses, creating a unique atmosphere of collective reflection.
While the official state ceremony takes place at Yad Vashem (The World Holocaust Remembrance Center), ceremonies happen simultaneously across the country. They are a form of "living memory."
What is Your Specific Connection?
LBZ: The Holocaust is incredibly difficult to grasp - but through personal testimony, one can try.
My grandparents lived in Hungary before the war broke out and fled to Russia during the war, so they are considered, perhaps, "unofficial" Holocaust survivors.
However, I look at the Holocaust as something that happened to my people, and less as a family matter. In my opinion, this is also the general Israeli attitude; even Israelis whose families came from countries untouched by the Holocaust relate to it as I do.
KZ: My immediate family lived in Ukraine and Poland which were heavily affected.
MB: I am the granddaughter of a Holocaust survivor who immigrated to Israel from Poland in 1947. Despite the unimaginable hardships he endured, he chose to take an active role in building the State of Israel. To me, his resilience and his commitment to creating a future represent the ultimate symbol of heroism.
Beyond my family history, I feel a profound connection as part of the Jewish people who share this collective trauma.
Could You Describe the ‘Zicharon BaSalon’ (Memories in the Living Room) Program?
LBZ: Zikaron BaSalon is called that because people meet in the home of someone they know, to hear the story of a Holocaust survivor. This creates a personal connection and allows for the preservation of testimonies in a direct way.
This experience is stronger and more real than any feature film or document. It is the essence of memory: the very meaning of tradition. As we say at the Passover seder, "In every generation they rise against us to destroy us, and the Holy One, Blessed be He, saves us from their hand."
Because we are Still Here.
MB: In recent years, the Zikaron BaSalon initiative has become a pillar of the day.
It transforms commemoration into an active process where people gather in living rooms to listen to testimonies and engage in discussion.
What Would Your Survivor Grandparents Think About the Situation Today?
LBZ: It took my grandparents years to reach Israel because the Soviet regime in Hungary would not allow them to leave.
For us, this story is a testimony to our family's effort to reach the Land of Israel and the fact that this is our place.
My grandparents could have given up their Jewish identity, adopted Communist ideology and escaped the antisemitism, but that was never an option for them. I learn from my grandparents' actions that they were never willing to run away from their Judaism or from who they were - and we won’t now either.
KZ: My babushka is horrified at what is happening in the world but at the same time, while missiles are shooting over her, she tells me: “Keren, they are always trying to kill us, but look at us; we are here and alive.” And then she says “HA!” with her signature style.
She is worried about her grandchildren and the world her great grandson will live in. Like she says, it didn't start from the camps; it started with words. This is something we must be aware of and something I personally confront in my own life.
MB: Beyond my grandfather, other branches of my family arrived years before the state was established. They were pioneers who built villages and infrastructure from the ground up.
Because of this legacy, I am certain they would advocate for proactiveness as the primary solution to rising antisemitism. They understood deeply the vital importance of having a state of our own and the necessity of being masters of our own destiny.
What Iconically Israeli Image of Resilience from the Shoah Comes to Mind?
LBZ: Wow, there are many.
I heard a testimony from a Holocaust survivor who said that immediately after immigrating to Israel, he joined the army. He said he couldn't explain the feeling that for all the years when the rifle was pointed at him and his people, now, he was the one protecting them.
I think that far beyond the establishment of the State of Israel and the IDF, there is something in "Israeli Chutzpah."
Israeliness, in its essence, is the response to the Holocaust - not in a victimized sense, but as a pride in being descendants of those who fought for their lives and fought to get here.
KZ: Each survivor to me is the definition of resilience. The images that are extra memorable are not only of them during the Holocaust, but the pictures of them with their grandkids in IDF uniforms, showing strength and continuity.
MB: The image that represents resilience to me is the manifestation of Jewish identity as a dominant and proud element of daily life.
The knowledge that we have a home where our identity is the norm rather than the exception is the greatest strength we could have asked for as a persecuted people. This sovereignty is the ultimate expression of our resilience.
How Would You Describe the Two Minutes When All of Israel Stops?
LBZ: The siren is something very powerful and unifying in knowing that everyone is doing the same thing at the same time, wherever they may be.
Exactly one week after Yom HaShoah, we have two sirens on Yom HaZikaron (Memorial Day for soldiers lost in Israeli wars and for victims of terror). It’s impossible not to think about the connection between these dates.
KZ: It is breathtaking and incredibly powerful, for the whole country, to be standing all together in silence,paying respect. It reminds us of what happened when we couldn't/didn't know how to defend ourselves. The heartbreak of so many lost. It unifies us in the sadness.
MB: The siren is a deeply spiritual moment of collective stillness.
Tragically, in recent years, the sound of the siren in Israel has become intertwined for many with the sound of air-raid sirens. Eylon Levy (former official Israeli government spokesman) captured this reality perfectly: there is one siren that notifies us of those who are currently trying to kill us, and another siren that reminds us of those who were already succeeded in doing so. The fact that these sounds are so similar is a haunting and constant reminder that our struggle for survival is an ongoing reality.
What Would Your Grandparents Say to See How You Are Honoring Their Memory?
LBZ: I am named after my grandmother, so I think a lot about memory and commemoration. I hope that I succeed in my life, to honor and continue my family's path. I tell their story whenever I have the chance - like now.
But mainly, I think that living with the awareness that you are part of the collective of Israel (Klal Yisrael), part of a tradition and a chain, and that you have a responsibility to this tradition, is the most powerful way to commemorate all of our collective relatives.
We will never forget them.
KZ: My babushka always says how proud she is that I served in the IDF, and that I continue being a part of the community.
She is proud that she survived and now she has her first great grandchild; in her mind, this the ultimate proof of our collective strength - and victory.
MB: I believe they would be very proud of me. While they were still alive, I wasn't active in this way, largely because I didn't yet know how to best carry their legacy forward. Today, I feel a deep sense of "Tikun" (fixing, resolving) as I use my voice and my skills to keep our collective story alive.
[1] Lilach Ben Zvi (LBZ) is a lecturer at the Max Stern Yezreel Valley College in the Galilee region and a researcher at the Kogod Research Center at the Shalom Hartman Institute in Jerusalem.
[2] Keren Zach is a voice of the customer insights specialists at Kitco Metals Inc.
[3] Michal Bental is a compositor animator at Cinesite