Between Two Days – Reflections on Yom Ha’Zikaron and Yom Ha’Atzmaut

Nirit Eylon, Hatikvah Australia President

There are two days that carry the full weight and represent the true spirit of Israel: Yom Ha’Zikaron, and the day that follows it, Yom Ha’Atzmaut.

No other country moves so sharply between extremes. From the deepest grief to joy,From silent pain to celebration.

Growing up, this transition felt almost impossible to reconcile, and yet completely natural.Because in Israel, the two are inseparable. We remember and mourn, and then we live.

For me, that understanding started long before I could fully grasp it. To be an Israeli is to meet loss early. In kindergarten, in school, in ceremonies where names are read long before you understand their weight.

You grow up watching the older students arrive in uniform on Yom HaZikaron, standing tall, proud, and broken all at once. You sing songs that stay with you forever, even when you don’t yet know why. And slowly, without noticing, those stories become part of you.

But my connection to Israel, to what it stands for, began even earlier, with my grandparents.

A hundred years ago, my grandfather, Natan Axelrod, arrived in Palestine as a young man, alone, with nothing but a passionate belief and a dream to create. Together with my grandmother, Lea Axelrod, they went on to document, via Yomanei Carmel, the building of a country from its early beginnings. They filmed the pioneers in the fields, the Ma’apilim arriving in secret, and the everyday moments of a society taking shape against all odds.

And then, on one historic day, they stood in the room where Israel was declared. My grandfather behind the camera, my grandmother recording the sound. For them, that moment was everything. Not just the creation of a country, but the beginning of an idea. A country built on values, on vision, on mutual responsibility and accountability for one another.

I grew up believing in that Israel. An Israel that wasn’t perfect, but was always striving.An Israel that argued, debated, disagreed, but still respected most views. An Israel that believed in democracy, in pluralism, in equality. An Israel that, unbelievably, became a leader in innovation, in technology, in creativity. The “Startup Nation”.A place where knowledge and determination could build something extraordinary.

And every year, Yom HaZikaron would come, enveloping us in memory and pain. And then, almost impossibly, Yom HaAtzmaut would follow. Music would fill the streets. People would gather. And somehow, the grief would transform, not disappear, but transform into something else. Into pride. Into life.

This year feels different. The grief is still there, heavier than ever. Alongside the pain, there is also a sense of reflection. A quiet questioning about the future of Israel, not only its safety, but also the kind of country it is becoming.

This year, as we move from Yom HaZikaron to Yom HaAtzmaut, many of us are holding more than one emotion at once. We are remembering those we lost. We are honouring what has been built. And, wistfully, we find ourselves thinking about where Israel is heading. Elections are coming. And with them, hope. Hope that Israel will find its way back to the path it was built on, a path of liberalism, pluralism, democracy, and equality for all. A country that stands proudly among the Western world, not only for its strength, but for its values. A country that remembers the meaning of “re’ut” (fellowship), of standing by one another, no matter what.

Maybe this year, the transition between these two days is not only about moving from grief to joy. Maybe it is about something deeper. About carrying both. About remembering what was built, and taking responsibility for what comes next.

Because the story of Israel is still unfolding, and we are part of it.

This year, more than ever, these days are not meant to be experienced alone. We invite you to join us for two evenings, as we come together as Israelis living abroad, and as a progressive community grounded in shared values and connection.

To remember.To carry it together.And to be together in our pain, our pride and our hope.