A year later, the war casts a shadow over every aspect of life in Israel

TEL AVIV, Israel — In Tel Aviv’s busy entertainment district, guests sit at outdoor tables and clink glasses as music fills the air. There is laughter, there is life. But all around customers, looking out from lampposts and store windows, are photos of hostages being held in Gaza, a stark reminder that Israel is at war and forever scarred by the deadliest attack in its history.

As Israel’s war with Hamas reaches its one-year mark, it may seem on the surface that much of life in the country has returned to normal. But with many Israelis still reeling from the October 7 Hamas attack, hostages remaining in captivity and a new front in the war with Hezbollah in the north, many Israelis feel despondent, despondent and angry as the war continues into its second year.

Uncertainty about the future has cast a shadow over virtually every part of daily life, even as people try to maintain a sense of normalcy.

“There is always a conversation about the situation,” said activist Zeev Engelmayer, whose daily postcard design depicting hostages or Israel’s new reality has become a fixture in anti-war protests. “Even those who sit in cafes, they” I say this, I see it in every situation. There’s no escaping it. It has entered into every vibration of our lives.”

Shocked Israelis feel hopeless

The Hamas attack, which killed approximately 1,200 people and kidnapped 250, shattered Israelis’ sense of security and stability in their homeland.

Many were shocked by the development of the war. Nearly 100 hostages remain in Gaza, of which fewer than 70 are believed to be alive. Israelis have suffered attacks – rockets from Iran and Hezbollah, explosive drones from Yemen, deadly shootings and stabbings – – as the region braces for further escalation.

They watched as Israel was accused of committing war crimes and genocide in Gaza and became increasingly isolated internationally.

“I’m almost 80 years old — we grew up in this country with the feeling that we had short wars and we won them quickly,” said Israeli historian Tom Segev, who described a new sense of utter hopelessness. “We are not used to long wars.”

Israelis have long felt that their country, born from the ashes of the Holocaust and enduring a series of regional threats, has succeeded, Segev said. He added that they strive for normality at the level of Europeans and Americans, although for decades their reality has not been like that at all.

“I think history is going backwards,” he said of last year. “Everything we achieved on the way to normal is not happening.”

Reminders are everywhere. At the graduation of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, a large yellow ribbon was placed in front of the stage. The graduate, who was not present because his brother was killed in Gaza the previous day, was honored.

Internal divisions are deepening

Israel’s long-standing internal divisions briefly eased in the wake of the Hamas attack, but have only intensified since then. The weekly protests calling for a ceasefire agreement that would free the hostages are mainly attended by secular Jewish Israelis who oppose Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and his government.

According to a September poll by the Jerusalem-based think tank Israel Democracy Institute, 61 percent of right-wing Jewish Israelis – Netanyahu’s base – support continuing the war.

Preoccupied with their own trauma, most Israelis paid little attention to the ongoing destruction in Gaza, even though the Ministry of Health there estimated the death toll in Palestine at over 41,000. There was little reporting on the destruction in the Israeli media. Israelis calling for a ceasefire are largely motivated by the difficult hostage situation.

Many Israelis are angry at the leadership and military for failing to prevent the Hamas attack. Tens of thousands of people are expected to attend an alternative ceremony to mark the year since, making a statement against official government commemorations. The state ceremony is being recorded without a live audience, partly due to fear of taunts and disruptions.

“What we lost on October 7 and have not regained until now is the sense of security” – Muli Segev, executive producer of the popular comedy sketch “Eretz Nehederet”. “Despite everything, we managed to create a life here that is quite open and Western.

“Especially in Tel Aviv, we go about our lives and don’t think about the fact that our lives are really just breaks between wars and outbreaks of violence.”

In the first months of the war, the show’s sketches were gentler and focused on what united Israeli society, such as the mass response of civilian volunteers. Over time, they featured more edgy satire, including a new look at the negotiations if the hostages were the children of Israeli politicians – they were released in less than two hours.

Parts of life have been reborn – beaches full of people, bustling cafes, concerts and sports activities are back on the schedule. But residents are also checking where the nearest bomb shelter is, coping with school cancellations if violence breaks out, and avoiding national transport hubs that are currently inaccessible. Heartbreaking news arrives regularly, including the death of six hostages in August.

“It’s a nightmare; we just get used to it,” said Maya Brandwine, a 33-year-old graphic designer who witnessed Tuesday’s shooting in Jaffa that killed seven people. “I have so little hope. I’m sure the situation will only get worse.”

Dror Rotches, a 47-year-old graphic designer, said from a Tel Aviv café: “We try to go out whenever we can, meet friends and forget for a few hours. Then we go back home and continue to wade through the mud.

Others simply cannot return home. More than 60,000 people living on Israel’s northern border with Lebanon have been displaced. Thousands of residents of southern cities pillaged on October 7 are in temporary housing. Tens of thousands of reserve soldiers are on their second or third tour of duty, putting strain on their families and jobs.

“As the war continues with no end in sight, there is also a kind of very serious concern about the future, and for some, whether there is a future here at all,” Muli Segev said.

In this café, life meets war

Cafe Otef resembles any of Tel Aviv’s ubiquitous coffee shops: customers laugh and sip specialty coffee next to a playground; light rock music plays. But next to sandwiches and cakes, there are chocolates prepared according to the recipes of Dvir Karp, who died in the attack on October 7, and cheeses from Kibbutz Be’eri, where more than 100 people died and 30 were taken hostage. Bags and T-shirts for sale read: “We will prosper again.”

The cafe, whose name comes from a region located on the border with Gaza, is run by residents of Re’im, one of the hit kibbutzim. This is the second store in the new chain, which aims to support the residents of a town in southern Israel where life has been turned upside down.

“The war has been going on for almost a year and I feel that if we don’t survive, we will die,” said Reut Karp, the café owner and Dvir’s ex-wife. He lives with most of his kibbutzim members in temporary housing nearby.

The cafe fulfills its purpose while its community struggles with trauma and the uncertainty of returning home. While it’s strange to see people flowing through the doors and going about their lives as normal, she and the staff have found comfort in the routine.

“We have to get out of bed and continue to live and work and hope,” Karp said. “Because without this hope we have nothing.”