A Tale of Three Ceremonies
Though famous for their informal dress and way of speech, Israelis are enamored of formal ceremonies. Independence Day is, of course, a hub of such ceremonies, along with intense arguments about who participates in what and even who gets to sit next to whom. Those who do not or cannot go to the ceremonies themselves watch them on television. As an immigrant, I have often marveled at the importance Israelis attribute to these events, but over the years I have come to understand them as a public gathering not only celebrating Israeli identity, but also symbolically constructing it, or what it should be. These ceremonies reveal, then, not necessarily what Israel is, but what its active, identity-constructing citizens think it should be.
This year, three of these ceremonies are indicative of three different visions of Israel’s futures – three different visions that are at odds with each other. I refer to the coalition-led ceremony in Jerusalem, the liberal-democratic ceremony in Tel Aviv, and the Gur Hasidic celebration of housing benefits held a day earlier, on Memorial Day, in Ness Ziona.
The Jerusalem ceremony was clearly the highest-budget event, with musicians, dancers, Rabbis, on duty soldiers and police officers, and even the president of Argentina. Hundreds of spectators were said to be in attendance. The theme of the ceremony, “Forces of Renewal,” focused on the yearning for a “revival” of Israeli society after October 7, 2023. The militarism of this revival was apparent throughout. The very name of the ceremony was drawn from the name, “War of Revival,” the official name of the war with Hamas in Gaza since October, 2025. The speeches focused more on the war with Iran and Lebanon, though, as usual, the Houthis were rather neglected. God was mentioned frequently, especially in connection with the war, and a TikTok influencer dressed as the Chief Rabbi gave out blessings in the crowd. The vision promoted was one of war for the sake of strength and military might, supported by God and the government together.
In Tel Aviv, in contrast, the focus was on peace. The much lower-budget, privately run ceremony had none of the glitz of its Jerusalem counterpart, though it had tens of thousands in attendance. The words “without discrimination on the basis of religion, race, or gender” repeatedly rang out through the speeches. It had not the glitz of soldiers in uniform celebrating the astonishing success of Israeli special-ops throughout the Middle East, but rather the grit of unfaded older generals who talked of the limitations of military might alone and the need for simultaneous diplomatic prowess.
Dan Halutz, former IDF Chief of the General Staff, said that the wars had no realistically achievable aims. But the focus was not on critique, but on hope for peace. Honorees at the ceremony included religious Muslims, Druze, and even a reform Jewish Rabbi, who spoke of living together in peace. Prof. David Harel, President of the Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities, spoke of the importance of Israeli Academia for promoting increased knowledge, which while potentially useful in war, is primarily a peace-time pursuit. The vision promoted at the ceremony was one of a normal life in a country with rule of law applied equally to all its citizens; the tone was hopeful, but not exactly optimistic.
The evening before, in Ness Ziona, when Zionist Israel mourned the fallen soldiers and victims of terror, the Gur Hasidim held a large-scale promotional event for distributing houses to its younger members. The word, yizkor, “May He remember,” was projected on the wall of the event, suggesting that perhaps they drew on government funding for a memorial day event.
MK Yitzhak Goldknopf, himself a Gur Hassid, served as Minister of Housing until recently, and famously secured numerous housing benefits for his constituency. Unlike Netanyahu’s promises “to bring free, or almost free, land to those serving in the army” (March 20, 2024), Goldknopf’s promises to Gur Hasidim were realized. That this celebration occurred in a city named for the miracle of Zionism is further testimony to the view of the Gur Hasidim (along with other Haredim) as appropriating the Zionist institutions for anti-Zionist purposes. The vision of this ceremony was a Haredi community concerned only with itself, and entirely disconnected from the Zionist institutions that funded it and the Zionist soldiers who paid the ultimate sacrifice so that Israelis could live in Israel.
These three ceremonies are symbolic of how deeply fragmented Israeli society is. But people are more complex than ceremonies and can retain multiple visions of a future Israel. Ceremonies themselves tend toward silencing those not on stage, and what we need is more public debate. Israelis have lived together relatively well for a long time, and have done so with multiple visions of what a future here should look like. The future need not be simplified. As Somaya Bashir said last night in Tel Aviv, strong societies are not characterized by overwhelming unity, but by complexity.
