Yom HaZikaron & Yom Ha'atzmaut 2025

A Personal Reflection on Memory and Sacrifice

Today and tomorrow are two of the most important days on the Israeli calendar.

Today, we commemorate Yom HaZikaron — a day sacred to memory and mourning — as we honor those who sacrificed everything for our nation, those who fell in battle, and those who were murdered by cruel acts of terror. Tomorrow, we mark Yom Ha'atzmaut — our Independence Day — when we celebrate the declaration of independence in our homeland.

It is no coincidence that these two days, each carrying immense weight, follow one another. They are not separate chapters but rather two parts of a single story — a story of cause and effect. Our independence was bought with the courage and sacrifice of those we remember today.

That is why it is our sacred obligation to carry forward the memory of the fallen. We owe it to them to tell their stories, to say their names, to remember where we came from and why we are here.

As the IDF International Spokesperson, I understand this obligation on the deepest level. Doing justice by the fallen is at the forefront of every one of my actions and decisions. This obligation also extends to my personal life. Almost every year on Yom HaZikaron, my family and I visit the grave of my grandmother’s brother, who was killed in action in 1948. Today, I’d like to honor his memory by sharing his story.

My family came to Israel from Georgia (Europe) in the late 19th century, fleeing the rising tide of antisemitism. They resided in Jerusalem, where my grandmother’s brother was born in 1928. He had a typical upbringing — attending elementary school and joining the “Tzofim” scouts youth movement. It is said that he played the harmonica beautifully, loved to dance, and brought joy wherever he went.

But the winds of history soon caught up with him. In 1947, Israel was still under the British Mandate. On November 29th, the United Nations voted to partition the land into two separate Jewish and Arab states. In response, violent Arab attacks against Jewish communities erupted almost immediately.At that time, the IDF had not yet been established. Jewish defense rested in the hands of the Haganah, the primary paramilitary organization.

Amid the violence and uncertainty, my grandmother’s brother heard the call to defend his people. In December of 1947, he enlisted in the Haganah’s "Moriah" Battalion. He participated in reprisal operations around Jerusalem and on the dangerous roads leading into the city. His bravery became a hallmark of his service, exemplified by the story of an operation in which his hat and coat were pierced by enemy bullets, a tale he recounted to his comrades with modesty and a smile.

Tragically, on March 4th, 1948, while preparing for an operation near Jerusalem, his unit was ambushed by an Arab mob. In the battle that followed, he fell in action. He was only 20 years old.

His dreams, his love, his future — all preserved only in the pages of a diary he had dedicated to his parents and his girlfriend. He was laid to rest in the military cemetery on Mount Herzl in Jerusalem.

Two months later, the dream he had fought for was realized. On May 14th, 1948, David Ben-Gurion declared the independence of the State of Israel. But, only a single day later, armies from surrounding Arab nations launched a full-scale invasion. Israel, outnumbered and outgunned, fought for its very survival.

The newly formed Israel Defense Forces pushed back the invaders. By July 1949, the IDF managed to beat back every invading Arab army, and armistice agreements were signed between Israel and its major opponents, bringing an end to the fighting and securing Israel's existence. But victory came at a heavy price. Over 4,000 soldiers and more than 2,000 civilians were killed during this period.

This is why Yom HaZikaron and Yom Ha'atzmaut are forever intertwined. Without their sacrifice, there would be no independence to celebrate. Without their courage, there would be no Israel.

Today, once again, we find ourselves tested. On October 7th, Hamas launched a brutal massacre against Israel, murdering over 1,200 people — men and women, children and the elderly — and abducting 251 into Gaza. It was the deadliest day for the Jewish people since the Holocaust. As several of our enemies from near and far joined the war at various points, we found ourselves, once again, in the midst of a multi-front war against cruel terror forces who have long dreamed of our demise. More than 18 months into the war, 59 hostages remain in Hamas’ brutal captivity.

Our soldiers have risen to the call once more, just as their predecessors did decades ago. Their heroism shines through each battle, each rescue, and each stand against terror.

“A remarkable generation of fearless soldiers has risen! In every arena, in the rear and on the front lines, I meet them — standing shoulder to shoulder, determined, united, heeding the voice that calls to them — understanding the weight of the moment.”

- The Chief of the General Staff, LTG Eyal Zamir, during the Memorial Candle Lighting Ceremony at the Western Wall

On Yom HaZikaron, we focus on memory. We remember the victims of October 7th. We remember the soldiers who, on that day, sprang into action, running straight into the grasp of terror to save lives. We remember the 850 soldiers who have fallen throughout the war, each one a world unto themselves, each one personally responsible for the continuation of our shared history.

On Yom Ha'atzmaut, we celebrate because of them. It is because of these heroes that civilians can live in Israel. It is because of them that Israel remains a free and sovereign nation. 

We must remember those to whom we owe our very existence, and how now it is our turn. It is our turn to carry their memories forward. It is our turn to defend what they died for.

The flower known in Hebrew as 'Blood of the Maccabees' has become an icon of Yom HaZikaron, with many wearing it in commemoration

Living in this sacred tension — between mourning and celebration, between grief and gratitude — is the essence of being Israeli. We remember the loss and sacrifice demanded of our people — and with it, our collective duty to persist and to survive.

May the memories of the fallen be a blessing.