OPINION: We are living a thin veneer of daily life beneath a brutal war

Ben Lazarus opens up about the daily struggles of living through the war while coping with Young Onset Parkinson's Disease and a son in the army

“Ask two Jews, get three opinions” – Ask Israelis, and you’ll get many perspectives. My journey is not representative of everyone, but it does show the deep impact of the war and how life has changed for all beneath the thin veneer of normalcy we all try to maintain.

I am not a soldier and am not fighting – and this is good news for the country. Not only am I hopelessly unequipped for combat, but I am also four years into Young Onset Parkinson’s Disease, making it a terrible idea. Although I am not fighting, my son is. A special forces soldier, he was at home with us on 7 October , and a little after 07:30, he left home and spent a large part of the day fighting in the border area of Beeri and Nahal Oz – five of his team members fell. Since then, he has spent long periods in Gaza and other locations. As a parent, the toll (and pride) is truly impossible to fathom.

Thankfully, he is, and please God will continue to be, okay, but that day also brought tragedy for those around us. Friends and neighbours had a beautiful son kidnapped, and in March, they found evidence that he had died a hero on 7 October, although his body is still with Hamas. One of my extended team members at work was killed in action, and a client of mine, with whom I was close and casually chatted with a few days before about our respective health, was killed along with his daughter on the 7th.

Each person has their story – mine is relatively mild compared to many. The effect – physical, emotional, and psychological – has been brutal. Stress is, for many, a significant influencer on health. The days my son has been in Gaza have directly worsened my Parkinson’s, leading to near-permanent use of a walking stick at 49 years old. I fall regularly, freeze, and shuffle, all gifts since 7 October.

The stress and worry are constant, and some channel it better than others. For me, it has led to an almost (ok – no almost) obsessive need to write and advocate for Israel on LinkedIn, especially given my son’s active duty and the sheer amount of antisemitism and antizionism out there. I feel compelled to “do my bit” and fight against it.

I am not a psychologist, but the war is clearly impacting me physiologically, as well as everyone else. In addition to a son, I have two daughters, and seeing the sexual violence inflicted by Hamas has scarred me and destroyed much of my naivety about the future. I pray for the captives every day, but apart from our neighbour’s son, the one seared into my thoughts is Naama Levy after seeing images of her being taken captive– MAY THEY RETURN SOON.

If that wasn’t enough and despite the atrocities committed, I am now viewed as an evil genocidal racist simply for being an Israeli. Despite its untruth and the genuine pain I feel for innocent Gazans used cynically by Hamas, it stings and adds a complex layer.

Like millions of Israelis and fellow Jews around the world, we try to live our daily lives as normally as possible but the truth is that the war has impacted us physically, psychologically, and emotionally, each to our own extent.

Israel has seen the true beauty of its next generation rise to the task of defending us, and this pride – especially with one being my child – does count for something. But as I write this, I feel the overwhelming impact the last year has had, and Naama Levy is in my head again. I fear for what is to come and every day brings new challenges. I truly pray for this war to be over and most of all for Naama and the other 100 hostages home.

War is deeply painful but we will emerge from it and defeat terror.

Ben Lazarus made Aliyah from London in 2007 and lives in Yad Binyamin