Spring in Israel

The infamous walk through Ben Gurion Airport down the sloped walkway towards border control has always brought tears to my eyes. I made that walk last June 2024 and this March 2025, yet they felt different. Both years, hostage posters lined the sides of the walkway, reminding you of the disparity to bring our people home. The difference this year was that they are still not home. Last year, the posters were mostly barren, with few stickers or objects surrounding them. This year, each poster was completely covered in stickers and surrounded by either stuffed animals, sports team banners, or anything that the hostages love. I could tell from this initial walk alone that Israelis have never been more exhausted and in mourning than they are today. 

My parents and brother had been in Jerusalem for around a month when I arrived, and would be there for the next couple of weeks, so I met them at their apartment in Rehavia. This apartment was only a three-minute walk from the Prime Minister’s home on Azza st, meaning almost constant protests due to the fear of Netanyahu’s new budget passing. My dad and I, curious to understand the different perspectives and demands within these protests, frequently walked down the street and used our basic college-level Hebrew skills to read the many protest signs. We were slightly surprised when we observed that, while most people were only protesting to save the hostages, a lot of these protesters were demanding an immediate and permanent ceasefire. Signs read “enough of the war” and occasionally accused Netanyahu of Genocide, similar to the Hamas-brainwashed students on United States college campuses.

After asking more Israelis about their perspective on these political nuances, some saw no nuances at all. After speaking to a more religious man, compared to the more secular protest crowd, we realized that many other people view the issue as: one side will die for our hostages and do whatever it takes, and the other will cowardly yell from afar. There are many more perspectives within the country, but I began to realize that the sadness and anger of being without our hostages for now 566 days had begun to create the kind of political polarization that I have only experienced in the U.S. 

As I made my way in the other direction through the airport to get on my flight back to LAX, I prayed that the next time I am in that room, which will be only two months from now, I will be walking into an Israel that is healing.