On October 7, 2023, Israel experienced one of the darkest days in its modern history. A massive terror attack shook the nation, leaving a permanent scar on our memory. The attackers claimed hundreds of lives, and in its wake, people experienced a renewed sense of vulnerability across the country. One year later, we are still reckoning with the consequences of that horrific day. Since that attack, Shin Bet (Israel’s internal security agency) and the Israel Defense Force have thwarted more than 1,200 terror plots across Israel, a testament to the unrelenting threat that hovers over our daily lives. Yet, despite these efforts, terrorists still manage to strike, as they did in Jaffa on October 1, 2024.
In my thirty-four years living in Israel, terror has become a painful reality. Over the years, I’ve been impacted by countless attacks – whether through the news or through a friend of a friend who was affected. In a small country like ours, it’s inevitable that everyone knows someone who has felt the impact of these tragic events. But the recent attack in Jaffa shook me more than any other, and perhaps it was because this time, it felt much closer to home. The light rail station where the attack occurred is one I frequently use, and the streets are those I walk often..
As the names of the victims were released, the grief felt intensely personal. Though I did not know any of them, I could not shake the feeling that I knew them. Each of their lives had a unique path, a purpose, and that’s what struck me the hardest. They weren’t simply victims of terror; they were individuals pursuing meaning in their lives. That purpose was cut short in an instant by senseless violence, motivated by a vicious Islamist ideology rooted in an irrational and genocidal hatred of Israel and the Jewish people. Hamas, which took responsibility for the attack, is only one example of the broader radical Islamic movement that embraces and glorifies the destruction of innocent lives. These attacks are not isolated acts but manifestations of a deep-seated ideological hatred.
But in their final moments, the victims demonstrated courage and humanity in stark contrast to the brutality of their attackers. One story that resonated deeply was that of Lev Kreitzman, a survivor of the Nova music festival massacre on October 7. Lev, who had already been through hell, found himself chasing after a terrorist in flip-flops, armed only with his personal gun (as a combat officer in the reserves, Lev is eligible to carry a personal firearm). His courage in the face of terror – his decision to act rather than freeze – is a testament to the strength of his spirit and the power of purpose.
Then there was the woman (her name has not been released) who managed to grab Inbar Segev’s infant after Inbar, in her final act of love, shielded her baby with her body as she was shot. The baby was saved by this wounded woman and was brought to the hospital covered in blood. These acts of bravery and care for others are a powerful reminder that, even in the darkest moments, people rise to defend life and meaning.
The seven souls lost in this attack were not aimless wanderers. Each had a direction, a compass guiding them through life. Inbar’s purpose was her newborn son, who will now grow up without knowing his mother. Nadia, from Moldova, had lived through immense struggles but radiated positivity, bringing light into every room she entered. Jonas, a Greek student studying architecture, was devoted to creativity and the arts. And Revital Bronstein, only twenty-four years old, had already made significant strides in AI and computer science, with an exceptionally bright future ahead of her.
The loss that weighs on me most is that of Shahar Goldman, a talented international dancer. Though I never spoke to her, I had seen her out and about several times, and the news of her death broke the hearts of those close to her, including a dear friend of mine. His pain, which I can barely comprehend, is now part of my own. This personal connection to the tragedy underscores a larger truth: We are all bound by the shared experience of living in a place where terror can strike at any moment.
While many of us continue searching for meaning in a chaotic world, I am convinced that each of the seven victims had a clear purpose, a guiding light that drew them forward. They were living meaningful lives, and even in their final moments, they acted with a sense of that purpose. This, to me, is what sets us apart as human beings – the pursuit of meaning in everything we do.
The philosopher and novelist Ayn Rand captured this idea beautifully in The Fountainhead, where she wrote, “The point isn’t who is going to let me; it’s who is going to stop me.” Terrorists seek to stop us – to strip us of our ability to live freely and purposefully. But it is up to us to resist, to refuse to let fear dictate our lives. We must continue living according to our values, even when faced with unimaginable horror.
Terrorism is not just an attack on the body – it is an attack on the mind and spirit. It seeks to break our will, to make us question the purpose of our actions, and to rob us of the freedom to live fully. The terrorists who carried out this attack did not just take lives; they attempted to extinguish the light of meaning that guided those lives. Yet, in moments of profound suffering, we can also find meaning – a belief famously expressed by Viktor Frankl in Man’s Search for Meaning. He taught that, even in the face of unimaginable hardship, individuals can choose to find purpose in how they respond.
How do we do this in the face of such horror? How do we live with the knowledge that at any moment, terror could strike again? These are questions I grapple with daily. The victims of the Jaffa attack weren’t soldiers in a warzone – they were civilians, going about their lives. They were us. Their loss reminds us just how fragile our lives are, how easily our sense of normalcy can be shattered.
In times like these, existential fear rises to the surface. I’ve lived through missile strikes and slept through bombings. But how do we live knowing that the enemy is not just at the border but among us? How do we reconcile this reality with the need to carry on with our daily lives? The answer lies not in fear but in meaning.
When terror strikes, it is tempting to retreat, to surrender to fear and chaos. But that is exactly what terrorists want us to do. They seek to make us feel powerless, to make us question the purpose of our lives. But life does not stop because of terror. Life continues, and it is up to us to continue living meaningfully, to live in alignment with our values and purpose.
While both the victims of terror and the terrorists themselves may act with a sense of purpose, the fundamental nature of that purpose could not be more different. True purpose stems from a love of life – a commitment to creating, nurturing, and contributing to the world. It is driven by the desire to build something meaningful, to uplift oneself and others. In contrast, the ideology that drives terrorism distorts the concept of purpose into a grotesque caricature. For terrorists, their “goal” is not the celebration of life but its negation. They believe their actions serve a higher cause, but what kind of morality demands the sacrifice of one’s own life to destroy the lives of others? To view purpose through this lens is to abandon humanity itself. Meaning rooted in destruction is not meaning at all – it is the ultimate void, a rejection of everything that makes life sacred.
In the aftermath of this attack, I often think of the victims’ paths. They were walking toward their own version of a meaningful life. They weren’t just existing – they were pursuing something greater. Whether it was Revital’s work in AI, Jonas’s passion for art, or Shahar’s devotion to dance, each of them had a compass guiding them. This is the core of living a fulfilling life – having a sense of direction, a purpose that keeps us moving forward even when the world around us falls apart.
But in this darkness, there is also evil beyond the terrorists themselves. Radical Islamic movements like Hamas are driven by a genocidal ideology that glorifies violence and calls for the destruction of entire peoples. It is essential to recognize that this ideology – rooted in irrational hatred – is what fuels these attacks. Terrorism is not a natural part of life; it is a grotesque aberration born from twisted beliefs that reject life and meaning. It is imperative that we identify and confront this evil for what it is. At the same time, there are politicians who exploit these moments to incite hatred against peaceful Arab citizens in Jaffa – people we have lived alongside since the state’s establishment, and who have themselves suffered from terror. It is painful to witness this manipulation, where tragedy is twisted for political gain. This, too, is a form of irrationality – a cynical assault on our shared humanity, using fear and division to further an agenda rather than fostering unity in the face of terror.
And yet, we must continue. We must live in a way that honors the meaning and purpose these victims carried with them. We cannot let terrorists dictate our actions. We cannot let fear stop us from pursuing what matters most to us. In the face of evil, we must hold onto the things that give our lives meaning, using them as our compass to navigate through the uncertainty and pain. It is important that we continue to dance, as Shahar did until the end of her life.
As Rand wrote, “The purpose of morality is to teach you, not to suffer and die, but to enjoy yourself and live.” We cannot allow terror to win. As long as we continue to live with purpose, as long as we hold onto our values, we remain undefeated. Life, no matter how fragile, is precious. And it is our duty to live it fully, embracing the meaning that gives it worth.
In the end, this is how we defeat terror – not by retreating, but by living. By holding onto the meaning in our lives and continuing to pursue our values, we defy those who seek to destroy us. We win by continuing to live, to thrive, and to find purpose in every moment.
