Seventy-seven is also an age where time seems fluid. Events merge into one another. The good follows the bad, which follows the good. Tragedy strikes and then blessings arise. Worry transforms into wonderment. Sunset resembles sunrise.

So it is with our beloved homeland as she turns 77.

As with every year, we are celebrating Independence Day right after Memorial Day and a week after Holocaust Martyrs' and Heroes' Remembrance Day. But this year, those two days of mourning seemed indistinguishable, bookends of the same canon.

Freed Gaza hostages took part in the March of the Living, gaining a similar status to Holocaust survivors 70 years their senior.

On the train tracks to Auschwitz, stickers showing the fallen of Oct. 7 were placed reverentially.

And a question mark hangs over this Independence Day, because it comes amid what has been called the War of Tekuma, or resurrection.

Since the fighting continues, it follows that our resurrection has yet to be completed. We have not yet defeated Hamas nor recovered all of our brethren from captivity. Whether we shall have to attack Iran's nuclear project - and do so alone - is worryingly unclear. And too many Israelis have fallen back into the sin of domestic political strife which left us vulnerable to the disaster in the first place.

So are we truly independent?

Are we entitled to celebrate?

Yes - though, much like a responsible 77-year-old, we might go easy on the beef and the beer, and we might be grateful that - as with last year - there won't be fireworks.

We may prefer an early night after a bright, quiet day in the company of family and friends.

Because family and friends, continuity and amity, are what make our country special. That is what we celebrate. And yes, that is the secret of our independence.

We heard it in the statements of so many Holocaust survivors: their pride in the families of that they built, and which in turn built this country.

That was their revenge against Hitler's genocide: choosing life.

And we feel it in the pits of our stomachs, in the beat that our heart skips when see posters of the hostages and the fallen. That is the pain of peoplehood, of responsibility for one another, of independence.

It is because we are an independent nation that we expect no one else to rescue or mourn our own. We look to ourselves.

Not for nothing does Jewish tradition suspend a shiva mourning week for a Shabbat or religious festival. Not for nothing have we seen soldiers in uniform taking a few hours off from the war in order to wed.

Joyful moments are miracles. They are not to be wasted or missed. They are what connect us to what really counts: home, tradition, the soul, community.

And so too must it be with Independence Day. It is incumbent upon us to celebrate, while not losing sight of what has passed - especially over the last 1.5 years - and what may soon follow.

Like mountain-climbers on a steep and treacherous path, we should stop and breathe and take in the beautiful view - before pressing ahead to the pinnacle.

Yes, we have had it hard. Even those of us who were spared the horror of losing someone to Hamas still felt it deeply - in the stress of IDF reserve duty, in the burden of volunteering, in the frustration and exhaustion of advocating for the hostages.

But still, with our country at 77, we are blessed.

Countless Jews in history could only imagine what we have achieved and benefit from here in Israel. Suffering persecution and exile, they would have laughed bitterly, and then sobbed with envy, at hearing our complaints about our national problems.

We, in turn, must recognize this, with gratitude and humility.

So mazaltov on another birthday, our beloved homeland! May there be many more, for all eternity. We thank you and smile for you. And we are here for you, always.

Dr. Miriam Adelson is the publisher of Israel Hayom. 

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Over these four years, we've watched our children and grandchildren grow and flourish, serving in IDF uniforms and taking risks with their lives. We've seen our beloved Israel torn by power struggles from within and a terrible war from without – yet at the moment of truth, uniting, fighting for what's best, and winning together. We've witnessed the US mired in moral confusion just when the people of Israel needed a display of strong American leadership – and yet now restoring its former glory, with President Donald Trump's reelection.

Sheldon was so unique, so dynamic, instinctive and wise, overflowing with affection yet tough – all at once and simultaneously. I see ripples of his memory everywhere: in Adam's broad and determined shoulders as he lifts another racing trophy; in Matan's wise and humane business approach; in Yasmin and Sivan's independent spirit as they raise their children; in the smiles of our tens of thousands of employees, and in all those who benefited from our charitable initiatives.

Sheldon's eternal impression

It isn't coincidental that the Olympics occur every four years as nations compete. It takes four years to complete a bachelor's degree. Terms in office – including that of the US president, leader of the free world – last four years.

I had the honor of sitting just yards away from President Trump when he was sworn in again last week. At the previous inauguration in 2017, I attended with Sheldon. This time I was alone. But even there, my husband left an eternal impression: with the loyalty and love he showered on Trump when many turned their backs – something the president always appreciated.

Now the American people and the entire world have gained four more years of the best president of all time. Let's ensure they have value. We must not waste time on foolish quarrels among ourselves, within our people or our political camp – when we face so many real enemies who have demonstrated the true danger they pose.

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One year ago, I offered the starkest of warnings to those malicious or misguided enough to side with Hamas and other Iranian terrorist proxies in the war against Israel.

"You're dead to us," I said – meaning: We Israelis, we Jews, and the friends of Israel and the Jews will not forget or forgive those who choose genocidal Islamist barbarism over the only liberal democracy in the Middle East.

I was blunt and furious because my heart was broken at the atrocities of October 7 – mass murder, pillaging, abductions, and rape on a level not seen since the Holocaust – and because, much like the Holocaust era, too many people in the supposedly civilized West were content to explain away or even celebrate the horror while blaming the Jewish victims.

I knew that my homeland, Israel, would be turning that same bluntness and fury into an iron fist, a sweeping counter-offensive against the fanatics on its borders and beyond that would ensure the post-World War Two vow "Never Again" was finally enforced. And I knew that this would require a mobilization of Israel's allies in the West.

One year later, Israel is winning the war. On that front, my worries have abated.

But I worry all the more for the West.

Because unlike the Jewish state, whose citizens rushed into battle within hours of the Hamas rampage and have fought on in Gaza, southern Lebanon, and as far away as Yemen and Iran, too many Westerners are sleepwalking into their own extinction. Unlike Israelis who risked lives and livelihoods for their collective survival, too many Westerners are content to look the other way as their homelands are ravaged by invaders.

Witness Amsterdam. In this most permissive of European cities, a pogrom took place on the night of November 6-7. Hundreds of Israelis who had flown out for a soccer match found themselves chased through the leafy lanes by well-organized anti-Semitic mobs. As police vanished into the darkness, dozens of Israelis were cornered, forced to show their passports or profess their religion, and assaulted. One was tossed into a near-freezing canal.

Their assailants were not the drunken Cossacks of Czarist Russia. They were predominantly Muslim men, immigrants, or the sons of immigrants, unleashing an imported Jihad in the name of "anti-Zionism."

The horrible irony of it all was that, all of a sudden, Israelis were less safe in Amsterdam than they were at home at the height of a Middle East war. They were airlifted back to Tel Aviv within hours – because that's what a responsible country does for its citizens. But the Netherlands and much of Europe were left to reckon with what the events spelled for their own future.

This is not a problem that will solve itself. Unbridled Muslim immigration has long passed the demographic tipping point. It will not go away. It will only get worse.

A continent whose indigenous white, Christian population is contracting, with birth rates dropping as standards of living rise, cannot brook an influx of foreigners whose religious extremism is so often adversarial and encouraging of large families. Unless compelled to adopt the values of their host countries, these immigrants will inevitably bring in patriarchy and chauvinism, antisemitism, and violent illiberalism.

And when the Jews are gone, they will turn their mayhem on others: Christians, moderate Muslims, women, and the LGBT community.

It is no accident that terrorism is virtually unheard of in countries like Hungary and Poland. They have the good sense to seal out border-jumpers from the Middle East, sensing immediately the demographic and cultural threat. But from the Netherlands to Norway, Belgium to Great Britain, policymakers must waste no more time on suicidal virtue-signalling. Migrants who do not adapt and comply with the nation's standards must go. It's that simple.

Israel is the homeland of the Jews, a community with a 4,000-year history there. Europe has been Christendom for nearly two millennia. By contrast, Islam is fairly young – a 7th-century religion spread by conquest. And what was once achieved by the sword is now being achieved by radical Islamists through mass immigration and social welfare exploitation.

Stand up, Europe! Israel is doing you the service of blunting some of the Middle East's worst exporters of chaos. Now, do your part by shutting the gates to it.

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On a dimmed stage in Hollywood, Florida, five years ago, I had a glimpse of a side of Donald Trump that too few see – or want to see.

The then-president was the keynote speaker at a convention of the Israel-American Council. After his typically rousing speech, when TV cameras were turned off and reporters were heading for the door, Trump lingered to listen respectfully to a rendition of "God Save America" by Shalva, a band of special-needs musicians from Israel. One by one, they then shuffled up to the towering leader of the free world, who was more than happy to hug, clap, and chat with them.

This was no scripted photo-op with models or generals, statesmen, or sportsmen. There was no political payoff. It was as simple and as sincere as it looked: a beaming father of five, extending his paternal warmth and encouragement to an extraordinary group of young people.

The image has stayed with me, a useful antidote to the endless farrago of lies about a man who seems to uniquely madden the news media.

And it is advisedly that I use the word "man" to describe our former – and, God willing, future – president. Because, yes, manly traits are desperately called for in our confused and dangerous times. The United States and its allies again face enemies guided by the most atavistic of values – extreme violence in the pursuit of extreme power – and we need a president who can push back, unambiguously.

There is simply no alternative to the courage, protectiveness, and clear-sightedness that Trump evinces with such peerless energy. We all witnessed this in his first term: The slashing of needless economic regulations and willingness – so timely, in retrospect – to call out NATO partners for not holding up their end of the defense spending. The unvarnished warnings about unchecked illegal immigration. The ripping up of the awful Iran nuclear deal. The implementation the people's will - as expressed in a much-deferred act of Congress from 1995 – by moving the US Embassy to Jerusalem.

Trump stood for what was right, even if that meant standing alone. He did so while buffeted by an unprecedented deluge of hostile press and confected legal actions. And, throughout, he kept up that signature good cheer that is the mark of true self-confidence and leadership. He showed, in fact, that he can be a real mensch – which, not coincidentally, is a Yiddish word for "man".

In a democracy like ours, an election reflects the will of the people. But it should not be a popularity contest. It should be a choice based on principles – not a show of principles being elasticized to please an electorate.

Mr. Trump, you have my vote. I say this clearly, as a proud female professional, a former army officer, a veteran physician, and businesswoman: You are the right man – the only man – for the job. ‎

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That dark Saturday on Oct. 7 was a turning point in Israeli, Jewish, Middle Eastern, and world history. The atrocities perpetrated that day have not yet been fully researched and documented; the details have been increasingly obscured in the fog of our war – the Israeli campaign and its many achievements, both on the harsh battlefield and on the geopolitical level, as Israel arose from the ashes galloping toward a victory that will transform the entire region.

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In contrast, one dramatic achievement has been clear from the very first minutes of October 7: The women of Israel have earned their reward for the blood, sweat, and tears their sisters shed for the whole nation and all of humanity.

Just as the female tank crews took the initiative and charged forward to help the communities under attack, plowing through the roads and agricultural fields in order to decimate Hamas' terrorists with fire,  so too are Israel's women now paving a new path to the future.

In other countries, the horrific sights of female soldiers being dragged into captivity might have led to a re-evaluation of whether to let women serve on the frontlines – or even whether they should be drafted into military service at all. But not in the IDF, which responded by doubling down on having female soldiers and officers contribute to the war effort. For the first time since the War of Independence, women are engaged in front-line combat against the enemy. Whereas back then, it was mainly done out of necessity, due to a shortage of manpower in the newly established state, nowadays it is being done intentionally, in order to reflect the egalitarian reality of a mature and progressive state.

It is no coincidence that Ori Megidish has returned to her post as an IDF officer and rejoined her unit after being rescued from captivity by the IDF – for a female fighter, just like her male counterpart, immediately returns to battle.

And this is not just a war against the attempt to deny the Jewish people their rightful homeland, or against the Iranian regional axis that seeks to defeat, trample, and destroy the State of Israel. This is also a war against the very essence of violent patriarchy: against the armed and Islamist embodiment of the fear and hatred that certain insecure men have harbored since time immemorial toward girls and women. We know that, sadly, Hamas focused much of its efforts on turning women into victims on October 7, often in particularly horrific ways. But what Hamas is discovering, to its misfortune, is that women will be the victors in this war. The fact that slender fingers with painted nails press the trigger that sends many of the terrorists to hell surely creates a special sense of humiliation for those who preach male supremacy.

Israel's success – the blessing for which it constantly gets cursed by its enemies – is its ongoing pursuit of gender equality. And the war, even as it still rages on, is having a ripple effect on our civilian society – as the examples given in the Israel Hayom special issue will illustrate. 

I will dwell on just one more special example – that of Nasrin, the heroic Druze woman who on the morning of October 7 boldly emerged from her shelter, outsmarted the terrorists around her, and extracted information from them that would later save the entire community of Yated.

I believe these changes will only spread further: from the issue of equal burden in IDF service to the need to increase the prominence of women in politics, government, business, and other leading professions.

The iron swords are heavy, but the women wielding them will not let them fall.

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The monsters of Hamas took their time in carrying out the worst massacre of Jews since the Holocaust. Their foreign fans were not so patient. As the machine-gunning, stabbing, dismembering, burning, torturing, raping and kidnapping of Israeli civilians on the Gaza periphery was still proceeding, pro-Palestinian advocates were already surfacing in Western cities to chant their support.

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The media described these displays as "protests". But that was false: Israel had yet to repel the terrorists, let alone retaliate, so there was nothing to "protest" against. No, those ghastly gatherings of radical Muslim and BLM activists, ultra-progressives, and career agitators were nothing short of street parties. They were celebrations, hallelujahs to the horrors.

For Israelis, for Jews, and for our many supporters in the world, this should have been the final unmasking of the "From the River to the Sea, Palestine Will Be Free" mobs. They do not yearn for Palestinian liberation or advancement. They yearn only to see the end of the world's sole Jewish state. And from the heady remove of their university tenures, NGO jobs, or partisan posts, they are willing to countenance an Israeli bloodbath in achieving that goal.

These people are not our critics. They are our enemies, the ideological enablers in the West of those who would go to any length to eradicate us from the Middle East. And, as such, they should be dead to us.

Like Jewish parents symbolically sitting shiva for a relative who has brought irretrievable disgrace on the family, we need no longer engage them. Indeed, we must disavow and shame them, deny them employment and public office, and defund their colleges and political parties.

Doing all this will be easy, because the stakes in Israel's war of survival have never been so clear.

If you condemn Hamas and then add a "but" followed by condemnation of Israel, you're dead to us.

If you thunder at the tactics of Israel's counter-offensive, without ever having taken an interest in far bloodier campaigns waged in your name, from Afghanistan to Iraq to Mali, you're dead to us.

If you quibble about how many babies were beheaded, or how many women were violated, in the October 7 pogrom, you're dead to us.

If you are more outraged by posters of kidnapped Israeli kids than you are about the fact that they were kidnapped in a vile crime against humanity, you're dead to us.

If you persecute Diaspora Jews as part of your pretense of merely opposing Israeli policy, you're dead to us.

If you insist Israel is obligated to seek accommodation with Hamas, an idea you would never have entertained for Western powers that fought the Nazis, al-Qaida, or ISIS, you're dead to us.

If you fail to recognize that Israel could end the threats to its existence by bringing its power fully to bear and eliminating Hamas, Hezbollah, and the Iranian regime but does not do so due to its concern for civilian suffering, you're dead to us.

We Israelis, we Jews love life. And we are done with meekly counting our dead. We have given so much to the world, so much to generations of civilization. Now it is time for some reciprocity.

Don't be dead to us. Be decent and fair. Be morally and intellectually clear-eyed. Be brave.

We will not forgive our enemies in Gaza or anywhere else. Nor would you.

And nor shall we forget the many who stand by us, understanding that our fight is their fight, too.

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Major (res.) Moshe Yedidyah Leiter was destined for greatness. I know this because I had the privilege of knowing him. The tragic death in battle of this young and talented man fills my heart with deep sorrow.

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Moshe was among the most promising students in the medical school that I founded with my late husband, Sheldon, at Ariel University. He was older than most of his peers in the program, having served until the age of 33 in an elite military unit and had already started a family. After all this, he embarked on his new medical career path with the joy of a pioneer, while volunteering for 90 days of reserve duty each year.

I wasn't surprised to learn that Moshe was born in the historic part of Hebron and grew up in Eli in a family of patriotic olim, intellectuals with a deep sense of duty toward society. He excelled as an officer in the Shaldag unit, just like he was destined to excel as a doctor. He was a father of six, yet he himself seemed to be the eternal, inquisitive child with a mischievous smile that would never leave his lips.

Similarly, it was no surprise to discover that Moshe fell in battle as a hero during one of the most dangerous missions in Gaza: Clearing a tunnel boobytrapped by terrorists.

How fitting that his first name was Moshe – after the person who gave us the Torah; his surname was Leiter –  ancient German for "leader"; and his middle name was Yedidyah, which means "the friend of God." It seems that God already wanted to gather this friend by His side. But it's too soon, too soon. It's heart-wrenching, and the mind refuses to believe he won't return.

Like all the People of Israel, I mourn for all those who were murdered in the October 7 massacre and in the war imposed upon us since then. Each and every one of them is an entire world. Each left a massive void. Alongside the pain, I pray for the safety of our captives and for their swift return home.

Rest in peace, Moshe Yedidyah, my dear friend. I am so proud to have had the chance to know you as a student, as a colleague in the medical profession, and as a human being. I extend my condolences to your parents, your wife, your children, and all your friends and acquaintances. You will be sorely missed by everyone.

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Much ink has been spilled about the awful similarities between the Simchat Torah Massacre and the Yom Kippur War. Fifty years apart almost to the day, both entailed catastrophic failures of intelligence, our enemies' exploitation of a Jewish holiday, and casualties on an unbearable scale. They will be remembered as the twin fiascos of contemporary Jewish history.

But the Hamas atrocities recalled events further back: The Holocaust, the pogroms, the gruesome violence visited upon the Jews in medieval times.

On the Gaza periphery, entire families were butchered in their beds. Some managed to hide in their bomb shelters, only to be flushed out with smoke. Children were tied up and tortured to death. Women were publicly defiled before being executed or carted off like trophies.

Learning of all this, I was suddenly 16 again, raptly listening to radio reports on the Eichmann trial and taking in the graphic accounts of Nazi mass-murder. The survivors' testimonies there had special importance, for me, as they did for so many of my generation. My parents had left Poland for the Land of Israel before the Nazi onslaught. But my grandparents, and most of the rest of my family, did not. I had been denied information on their fate, as at the time Israel's struggle to survive left little room for retrospection. The Eichmann trial was my first Holocaust education, my first communion with lost kin I had never known. And not until more than six decades later, with the hell that was Simchat Torah in our southern communities, would I feel plunged into the horror in the same way.

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We are "Am HaNetzach", the Eternal People. That means not only an age-old bond with the Creator but also a constant reckoning with those who seek to destroy us in the most painful ways possible.

Perhaps Hamas knew this when they launched their attack. Perhaps – despite their official policy of Holocaust denial – they studied the methods of the Nazis, and then replicated them, on-camera, for instant mass-promotion. Perhaps they believed that, like the Nazis, they would succeed in driving away those Jews they did not manage to murder.

But this new foe failed to understand the new Jew of Israel, of our ancient homeland, reborn and never again to be abandoned.

Israelis did not rush to board departing flights. Instead, extra planes had to be made available to accommodate all of the IDF reservists coming back home to fight.

Unlike in the Holocaust, when our people disappeared as ash in the wind, we now locate and identify all final remains of every last victim, to ensure they are buried in dignity with names known for eternity.

And unlike in the Holocaust, when we were adrift and alone in an indifferent world, today's world leaders are lining up to make solidarity visits, despite the threat of rocket barrages, and to wish us victory.

And victorious we shall be.

Given the astonishing waves of volunteerism and mobilization, from every corner of the world and to attend to every need of this nation's lovely citizenry, there can be no other conclusion. As a long-time philanthropist, I find myself moved more than ever before by how much can be given, even by those who have so little.

Because while we are products of our history, we are not bound by it. The Start-Up Nation will now rise up. And though our weapons are modern, though our warriors are blessed with all of the education and values of the 21st century, not to mention iPhones and AC, they will take with them the High Priest's benediction from the Book of Deuteronomy:

"Hear, Israel: Today you are going into battle against your enemies. Do not be fainthearted or afraid; do not panic or be terrified by them. For the LORD your God is the one who goes with you to fight for you against your enemies to give you victory."

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The welcomed pledge made by the prime minister and Opposition leaders to rise above the political fray during Memorial Day – in response to Israel Hayom's efforts – serves one purpose, which can be described in one word: quiet. 

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This sacred day requires calm to set in all around us; it requires the solemn atmosphere of a longing for a loved one; of being in solitude with the memory of those who have left us. A calm that is also a form of sorrow, both for each one of us and as a nation. A quiet that creates an inner prayer. 

This quiet is what Israelis need more than ever after months of unprecedented polarization. A quiet that heals, that marks the lull in the storm, and hopefully – its nearing the end. Through this calm, we can look at one another once again as brothers, and give a warm embrace that would replace the nasty rhetoric. 

This quiet is also what best connects me to the fallen soldier I had the privilege of knowing: my classmate, Daniel (Danny) Cohen, may his memory be a blessing. 

 We both studied at the Hebrew Reali School in Haifa. He excelled in hunting and marksmanship, with a masterful skill of knowing how to wait with bated breath before pulling the trigger at the right moment. Among friends, he knew how to resolve debates and strike a compromise, and lift people's spirits through the same confidence and calm that was his hallmark.

I remember how he sat next to me on the way to a preparatory military program our class was going to in a far-flung destination in the south. It was almost impossible to hear each other due to the noise of the engine, but for some reason, I remember it as if we had a conversation that continued nonstop.

After graduation, we parted ways. I served as a research officer in Ness Ziona while Danny became an officer in the Combat Engineering Corps. He served the country with that quiet pride of generations of Israelis who knew what their paramount duty was without thinking twice, until that cursed day in 1970 when he was killed during a Syrian bombardment on the Golan Heights. He left behind a woman and two small children. 

In his final photos, Danny looked like a person frozen in time: still that 24-year-old man with the same quiet smile. Like all our fallen – and they number too many – his quiet is now enteral. As we look at this silence, we must also listen to the fallen's request: that we live a good life that has no fear of war, with no pointless spats; that we live in calm and peace. 

Let's honor their memory by doing so. This is the very least we can do. 

Dr. Miriam Adelson is the publisher of Israel Hayom.

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Listen to the BBC report about the first Shabbat service at Bergen-Belsen after its liberation, and you will hear Jewish voices raised twice:

First, in the singing of Hatikvah.

Video: March of the Living

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Second, in the British army rabbi's assertion: "Am Israel Chai! The children of Israel still liveth!"

Note that translation: the "children" of Israel, rather than the "people" of Israel.

Amidst the ruination of the Shoah, that rabbi was already trusting that a new generation of Jews would rise from the ashes.
And we must similarly have faith in the future – especially here.

For what is the March of the Living if not a march of time, with young Jews, proud and unbowed, symbolically reversing the doomed transports at Auschwitz?

Even as we mourn our six million martyrs, let us rejoice in everything our people have managed to rebuild in the eight decades since.

And even as we sing "Hatikvah" for our beloved Israel as she turns 75, let us wed the "hope" that is at the heart of that anthem to conviction and confidence that Am Israel Chai. Or, to use the fuller phrase: Am Israel Chai ve-Kayam.

Our nation lives and will live on!

Adapted from a speech delivered at main ceremony of the March of the Living on April 18, 2023, where Dr. Adelson lit a memorial torch. Dr. Miriam Adelson is the publisher of Israel Hayom. 

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