In the aftermath of two years marked by social rifts, mass protests, deep suspicion, and ongoing national trauma, the word “unity” has become something of a magic phrase in Israeli public discourse. We all yearn for it, but it seems to slip further from our grasp.
Unity is not born of good intentions or catchy slogans. Its seeds are planted much earlier – in our ability to truly see and understand the other, especially those on the “other side.”
In the Israel of 2025, 77 years after its founding, the social divide is no longer about one or two groups. It’s far more fractured: religious and secular, Right And Left, center and periphery, traditional and liberal, Jewish and Arab.
Too often, each side views the other not just as a rival, but as a threat. And when that happens, unity becomes a distant dream.
In public discourse, instead of listening, we attack. Instead of seeing the other as someone who wants good for this country, we label them an enemy. Instead of seeking to understand, we choose hatred. This is not how nations build unity – or survive: It’s how they fall apart from within.
Heralding change
If we truly want to make this year's Independence Day count, let it have heralded change. Let us begin in the painful places, stop being afraid, and start listening.
Understanding the other is not a sign of weakness.
It is not betrayal, nor is it surrender. It is courage – both personal and civic. It is taking responsibility. The philosopher Martin Buber once wrote that the person in front of you must be seen as a “thou,” not an “it.” That is, not as an object or a mistake to be erased, but as a partner in conversation. Without that, there is no dialogue – and no society.
We’ve already seen that it’s possible. In the aftermath of October 7, across the devastated South, people from all corners of Israeli society came together. Settlers built sukkahs for secular Israelis. Haredim (ultra-Orthodox) raised funds for kibbutz families. Leftists embraced religious reservists. It wasn’t because they agreed on everything – it was because they recognized one another. Because the pain was shared. Because in the midst of the deepest darkness, they saw a human being before a political opinion.
As the physical fires have dimmed, as Independence Day ends and the news cycle moves on, we’re left with the real question for Israel’s 78th year: can we still see and hear each other when war no longer forces us to? Can we recognize the person – not just the position?
Unity without understanding is a pretty wrapping for an empty box. If we want to build a future here, we must begin with understanding. Without it, there can be no true independence – and not even a real chance; only risk.
The writer, a communications and strategy adviser, is a former spokesperson for the Bayit Yehudi Party and has managed political campaigns.