The Same War, on a Loop
We’ve gotten all too used to missile alerts, existential anxiety, and suspicions of political bad faith.
In Israel these days, unless your apartment has a blast-resistant room, it’s best to go to bed in something that you’re comfortable wearing in a bomb shelter. Your phone is likely to wake you with the clatter of an alert for incoming missiles: First comes a text message that says to be near a protected area. Several minutes later, a second screech brings a message to take cover.
The government has approved the reopening of workplaces that have shelters, but most children are home, attending school online. This is a burden for all parents, but particularly for those who are single or whose partner has been called up for reserve duty.
I live in Jerusalem. My adult daughters are in Tel Aviv, which is targeted much more often. On the phone one day, one daughter told me that she had been woken six times the previous night. A moment later, she said, “Gotta go, Dad. An alert.”
I’d spoken with her sister earlier. The Tel Aviv light rail isn’t operating, because underground stations are being used as bomb shelters, so she’d taken a cab to work. Mid-ride, her phone clacked a preliminary warning. She reached her job, and a shelter, moments after the second alert.
