Yoni Ari
As an Israeli-American who lives in Israel and works in the U.S. as the executive director of the Jewish Emergency Preparedness Project, I find myself straddling two worlds that are both familiar, yet profoundly different. In Israel, resilience is woven into the fabric of daily life, a necessity born from decades of conflict and existential threats. But as I navigate my work in the United States, I see the rising need for a similar resilience among Jewish communities here, particularly as antisemitism rears its ugly head with increasing frequency.
After the harrowing events of Oct. 7, my American colleagues often asked me how Israelis are holding up. Initially, my response was predictable — I highlighted the unyielding spirit of Israelis, their ability to unite in times of crisis and the exceptional work of emergency response teams. Israelis, I would say, know how to carry on, even under the direst circumstances.
But as the situation in Israel worsened, with Iran’s bombing on April 13 and the lingering tension after the death of Hamas leader Ismail Haniyeh, I began to see resilience in a different light. Israelis continue with their lives despite the threats from Iran and Hezbollah — shopping, gathering and maintaining a semblance of normalcy. Yet, this resilience, once a source of pride, now feels like a relentless burden — a necessity that leaves little room for vulnerability. I began to think of this as “over resilience.” It’s the ability to endure so much, for so long, that it becomes almost a form of denial — a way to cope that comes at the expense of acknowledging just how much is being endured.
This is where the lives of Jewish Americans diverge. Here in the U.S., the threats are less immediate, but no less real. The rise of antisemitism demands that Jewish communities build their resilience — not just in response to physical threats, but also to the insidious spread of hate that can erode the safety and cohesion of our communities.
The challenge for Jewish Americans is to find a middle path, one that allows for the development of resilience without surrendering the comfort of normalcy. It’s about learning from Israel’s example, but not necessarily replicating it entirely. While Israelis have had no choice but to live in a constant state of readiness, Jewish Americans can take a proactive approach to resilience. This means building strong, connected communities that can support each other in times of crisis, whether those crises come in the form of antisemitic attacks or natural disaster.
The key is balance. Jewish Americans must cultivate resilience without allowing it to consume their lives. This involves community preparedness, yes, but also fostering environments where Jewish life can thrive without the shadow of fear. It’s about being ready for the worst while still hoping for, and working toward, the best.
As we move forward, let’s support each other across borders. Israelis can teach us much about resilience — perhaps too much. But we must also seek a future where such “over resilience” is no longer necessary, where resilience is a choice, not a requirement. In the U.S., we have the opportunity to build this kind of resilience thoughtfully, ensuring that our communities are prepared for whatever comes while still enjoying the peace and security that we so deeply cherish.
Yoni Ari is the executive director of the Jewish Emergency Preparedness Project and an Israeli-American who splits his time between Israel and the United States.
