I'm an active member of the invisible home front. And I'm about ready to revolt.

Spouses of reserve soldiers -- mostly women in their 20s and 30s -- have been left carrying the unseen burdens of this war. They, along with their own mothers, are about at the ends of their ropes.

I spent Shabbat afternoon with three young Israeli mothers all of whom have husbands currently serving in the war in Gaza. Five babies aged 15 days to 2.5 years. Another in utero.

Smart women, with degrees and jobs and passions and interest and dreams.

Women putting everything else aside since October 7 in order to single-handedly manage the home front.

Women on call 24/7 for managing, organizing, feeding, shopping, cooking, laundry, wiping drippy noses, changing dirty nappies, calming tantrums, cleaning accidents, bathing, dressing, combing, comforting, reading, educating, explaining, entertaining, soothing, and protecting.

Especially protecting. Shielding their children from the fragile reality around us. Fragility in many iterations.

Women who struggle with their own basic needs. Finding time for, say four minutes for a shower. Two minutes to use the bathroom unaccompanied. Five seconds to run to the phone when he calls. A second to breathe.

Anything beyond that is a luxury. Maybe a thing of the past.

Did someone say work? Studying? What was that again? My boss needs something? What was my boss’ name again? What is it that I do for a living? I can’t remember.

And wait, what, did you ask me if I’ve been to the gym? Gone for a swim? You’re joking right?

Yeah, I just gave birth just two weeks ago. What do you mean time to recover? It’s been two weeks.

Did you say I look tired? I could use some sleep? It’s okay, I slept for a few hours last night, I think. I’m not sure. I can’t remember. Wait, what time is it? What day is it?

Did someone’s phone ring? Wait, what were we just talking about a minute ago?

*******

Women whose husbands are away at war — yes, it’s STILL predominantly women at home, even as there are more women serving in the army than ever before, which tells you just how very far away from equality this country is — women holding down the home front, they are mostly drowning.

DROWNING.

You can see this all over social media. Women describing the everyday torment of dealing with kids 24/7 while they scream “Abba! Abba!”

A news story about wives of reservists who lost their jobs because their bosses did not understand what they are dealing with.

Another story about women who are losing their minds, but who don’t dare share that information when their husbands call.

All over social media — but not necessarily in government support or care or understanding. This topic has been a battle in a government more concerned about keeping itself in power than in taking care of the people on the frontlines.

Facebook post by Michal Barkai Brody about calming her children while they scream “Abba! Abba! Abba!” because he has not called for days.

Sure, the mothers get help wherever they can — including from their own mothers, mothers-in-law, aunts, cousins, friends, neighbors, volunteers, strangers on the street. We all pitch in as much as possible.

But they are still drowning.

Many of us in that second tier of support have also put our lives on hold to help out. Having grandchildren over for weeks or months at a time — putting in extra time during that first month when the kindergartens were closed. Dropping everything to do shopping, cleaning, laundry, bath time, entertainment so that our daughters and daughters-in-law don’t drop. Spending all our money on taking care of our kids’ families. Putting our own work and interests on hold to make sure that the country can have our sons-in-law to do……

…..well, we don’t talk about what they’re actually doing over there in Gaza. That’s already too much.

So many lives in tatters. So many.

And we haven’t even mentioned the ones for whom this is going to be a permanent situation.

That’s REALLY too much. Best not to talk about it.

****

The three women I spent Shabbat with served in the army, too. They know everything about how this military works. They are also fully capable of doing the jobs that the men are doing — and in fact, there are stories making their way around the internet of pregnant women, nursing mothers, and female commanders and medics who are busy in the war. I certainly would not want to erase or dismiss their vital work or roles here.

Nevertheless, despite those scattered gains, this war remains a predominantly male-led war. There are no women in the war cabinet. Not a single woman around the table with decision-making power.

Women remain a small minority of high-ups in the IDF. Even as female fighters were incredibly brave and resourceful on October 7. Even as female soldiers — tatzpitaniyot — were warning about this war for months and were completely dismissed and ignored by their male supervisors.

(Bibi was recently asked about the exclusion of women from decision-making power during a press conference. His response was, “I don’t understand the question”. You can’t make this shit up.)

Today, the overwhelming majority of soldiers who have been called up for reserve duty — now for 80 days and still counting — are men. Mostly in their 20s and 30s. The ages when they are also building relationships and families and careers and life.

Leaving the women at home. To clean up the mess. Before the women collapse.

Before they and their mothers collapse.

*****

80 days and still counting. With no end in sight. Our Prime Minister refuses to commit to a timeline. Refuses to tell even the President of the United States when he expects this to be over. All he ever says is “a long time” and “sacrifices”.

Sacrifices.

He tells the hostages families sacrifices.

He tells families of soldiers killed sacrifices.

That’s life he told the family of a guy killed by so-called “friendly fire” [shudder].

Who else is this Prime Minister willing to sacrifice?

Not himself, of course.

Not his government.

Not his own kids, who are far, far away from the war.

Even as one of his cabinet members, Gadi Eisenkot, lost both a son and a nephew in battle, this Prime Minister remains unmoved.

Sacrifice. That’s life.

******

Even as hostages are being returned in body bags, he is unmoved.

When will we hear about a plan for the hostages? Families are dying to know. When will we get some information? Cease fire? Negotiations? All we know is what we hear on the news, the tormented hostage families plead. Something, anything. Tell us, something.

Silence. Nothing.

Well, not exactly silence. There are booms. Endless booms.

Especially for those in Gaza.

One of the hostages who returned during the first (thus far only) cease fire said in a media interview, when asked what the scariest part of being in the tunnels was, “The bombings. The airplanes dropping bombs. Every night. Constantly. That was the scariest part, I’m sorry to say.”

The Prime Minister is unmoved.

Cease fire? Never.

We won’t stop until we win. Until Hamas is completely destroyed.

In other words, never.

Of course never. As soon as the war is over, he will need to be held accountable. Face an angry public. Go back to the four trials in which he is being tried for corruption. Maybe even face jail.

We will not stop until we win.

Never. We will never win. There is no such thing as winning here.

Lucky Bibi, he gets his endless war.

******

“We should be there, too,” the pregnant mother says, while changing a dirty diaper. I’m setting the table for lunch, trying not to gag from the overwhelming odor. (The things women are expected to just be accustomed to…)

“I could have been there,” says the one who gave birth 15 days ago. “I did reserve duty for a few years. My job would have been very important in this war.” She is 31 years old.

“If women were in charge of the war, it would have been over by now,” I interject, breaking with my heretofore role of supportive grandmother and reminding myself for a moment that I have ideas. Strong, political ideas. Valid ideas. Oh, yeah, I have a doctorate in gender studies and education. I’m an anthropologist. I know stuff. I write books. Especially about women. Am I allowed to say that? Or is it best not to remind anyone right now? Just make the egg salad.

Suddenly all the women sitting on the floor with their kids look up. I think I spoke more loudly than I had intended. I think maybe I had put on my “smart person” voice rather than my “helpful old lady” voice. (To be fair, I’m not even that old.)

“OH MY GOD THAT IS SO TRUE!” They all said in unison. “We would have totally ended this war ages ago!”

What a relief! We’re all still here. The smart, thoughtful, powerful women are all still here.

Come on, come on, out you go. Let’s see your beautiful, smart faces again.

The chatter changed dramatically. They were talking about the things they were doing in the army, the teams they managed, the skills they have. It was refreshing.

Years ago, when my oldest daughter had completed her Officers’ Course, I was so filled with pride at her achievements. I imagined my grandmothers dancing with me at this isolated, middle-of-nowhere army base in the Negev. I felt at the time that we had done something very meaningful, accomplished something on behalf of generations of Jews, our ancestors. Something. I wrote about it in the introduction to my 2014 book, The War on Women in Israel. I remember those feelings. The pride. The yearning for gender equality.

Today, those feelings are still there, but they compete with a whole other set of feelings about the army and the role of army culture in meanings of Jewishness, and in its role in Israeli society.

And also, while I strive for gender equality everywhere in life, I am not sure that I still consider equality in army service my highest priority. I’m not glorifying that militaristic culture anymore, as if fighting is the greatest thing a person can do in this world. I would rather remove the army from its golden pedestal and replace it with something else, like a Ministry of Peace, one that is more powerful and has more funding than anything else. One where women are most dominant.

But I digress.

Anyway, who has time and energy for these musings right now? Maybe I’ll get back to talking and writing about these ideas when the war is over.

When the war is over, Haha.

“Yeah, if only women in charge,” these former soldiers on the floor all agreed.

******

“Maybe these guys are having too much fun over there.”

Those are the words that came out of my mouth. I didn’t even know they were in my brain. They just escaped. Like hostages waiting to be rescued. Sometimes they have to just go for it, no thinking.

Again, they all looked up at me again in some kind of surprise or something. Like, this old woman holding the quiche has big words again. Who knew?

Or maybe I said a thing that we’re not supposed to be thinking. Like, war and fun in the same sentence? WHO IS THIS PERSON?

Heresy. I was waiting for these young women to chastise me for attacking their sacred cow.

And then, the chatter resumed.

“OH MY GOD IT’S TRUE!! THESE GUYS LOVE THIS!”

And out poured the stories.

They love being with their buddies. They get so well-treated by everyone. The entire country has been coming in droves to the army bases on the Gaza border with all kinds of goodies. People make them barbecues. People bring pizza and mountains of candies and free food. My son-in-law has had massages from professionals volunteering their time. They get haircuts, blankets, tons of free stuff.

No wonder when their wives beg them to come home, often the response is, “I can’t. I can’t leave my group.” It’s duty to their peers, sure. But it’s also a bit of FOMO, to be honest.

Also, it’s really nice and convenient that they have other people worrying about things like their food, their beds, their clothes — all their needs are taken care of by someone else. That’s got to be nice.

What a break, to not have to do any chores at home. Nothing. What a relief. I bet these mothers dream about that, too.

I know what you’re thinking: THEY ARE ALSO RISKING THEIR LIVES AND FIGHTING TO PROTECT THE COUNTRY.

True, that is totally true. Being in battle is hard. Scary. Life-threatening.

All true.

And also, you know, heroic. Exciting. Adrenalin-inducing. Cool.

It is also dreamy for many young men. I mean let’s face it. This is a type of fantasy to do this. Not for all the guys in there, but for many.

Yeah, I know, I know, this is the stuff we’re not supposed to be saying out loud.

Such a cynical view, I know. And you may be like, “ELANA! HOW CAN YOU SAY SUCH A THING!” Or maybe even, “SO OFFENSIVE! They ARE heroes!”

Yeah, okay, I hear you. But I’m going to say this truth anyway. Because this is ALSO true about Israeli culture:

There are a LOT of cultural-social rewards for the heroic soldier. And financial rewards, too. Those who finish their service with stories of heroism are able to go very far in society. They get media attention. They get positions of leadership. They get investments in their hi-tech companies, or political appointments. They get medals and awards and invitations to meet Presidents and Prime Ministers. And they get to sit around the Shabbat table while everyone listens in awe, or give a speech in shul where everyone applauds, and walk into a room and immediately be hailed as heroes.

Often it is very deserved. Often it is truly, mind-blowingly tear jerkingly deserved. Of course.

Sometimes it’s all in the telling…..

(Sorry.)

So of course they all strive for that trophy, that Gold Ring, the lifelong label of Hero.

All they need is women at home willing to give up everything — their time, their dreams, their ambitions, their ideas, their bodies, their lives — on that altar of Hero.

The women at home holding down the home front aren’t the ones getting invitations to meet Presidents or offered Big Jobs with Big Salaries. Nobody knows their names or thinks, “Oh, yeah, she is the real hero here.” That is not happening. (With all due respect to the Sheroes project trying to fix some of that….)

Maybe some women live vicariously through that as well. Lots of women find their power and voice and status by being adjacent to the Hero. Maybe for some women, all that self-sacrifice is a form of heroism. All that they are willing to do so that Our Country Can Win The War.

If they don’t fall apart first.

****

This war has had an uncountable number of deleterious affects on everyone involved, and even people only remotely involved. (To think that polls are showing that Trump may win against Biden in 2024 because young progressive first-time-voting Americans who have likely never been to the Middle East do not approve of his position supporting Israel……. I’m just saying…. Lots of impacts, some of them terrifying…. If Trump wins in 2024 because Bibi needed a never-ending war, we’ll just add that to the list of this war’s troubling legacy.)

Yeah, lots of awful impacts on lots of people. The people living in the Gaza rim. The hostages and their families. The people of the Nova festival. All those who died and their loved ones.

And the two million Palestinians in Gaza, most of whom had nothing to do with what happened on October 7 but are now facing homelessness, disease, destruction and death.

Lots of lives ruined.

So it may feel dumb or irrelevant to talk about gender. We hear this all the time. “Now is not the time.” Or, as then-MK Moshe Feiglin said during the 2014 war when the topic of sexual harassment was on the public agenda, “Now is not the time for talking about fairies and rainbows. We are at war.” You know, like that. Fairies and rainbows and gender stuff.

I hear that, but I’m taking a moment to talk about gender anyway. Because we need to understand what is happening to women in this war, the ones holding down their families while men go off freely to do what men have decided that men have to do right now. Whether or not we agree with it. Whether or not we believe in the strategies of responding to killing innocent people by killing innocent people. Whether or not we agree that a plan for fighting without clear aims or timelines is in any way a good idea. Whether or not we think that this Prime Minister is trustworthy in any way and not driven by corruption and ego-driven personal needs.

So I’m talking about gender. About men in power making decisions and going off to do their things while women with no power quietly and invisibly pick up the pieces.

At great personal sacrifice. Complete personal sacrifice.

Un-thanked, unrewarded, unappreciated, unseen.

It’s a gender story as old as humanity.

And here we are.

I cannot believe how far we have regressed. A country full of smart and capable and accomplished women driven back to roles of volunteer, powerless caregivers.

And the men whom they love seem to be falling into line about it.

(And also, I’m sorry for all the heteronormativity and binarism in this post…. Obviously this story of young, married, hetero couples having children and building lives does not in any way represent the entire population…. Sorry for excluding the other stories. Unmarried, gay, non-parents, divorced, non-binary, poly, etc……and of course the cases where women are serving and men are home, which I also want to honor even as they represent a very small minority. But, yeah, I know…. I’m here telling one particular story that affects LOTS of people, including in some cases the people who I listed above…. Sorry if it comes across that I am being exclusive and heteronormative and ignoring identity and relationship diversity.….. I’m just telling one story. There are lots of others for sure, some that fit this narrative and some that don’t… I’m really sorry that this is what I have come to…. Feel free to share your thoughts and reactions in the comments.)

My point is that as a culture and a society, this war has taken us ALL generations back when it comes to gender. We are all suddenly falling into very old conceptions of gender identity, even when so many of us know better.

Even my side comment above acknowledging my own heteronormative bias here is a reflection of where we’ve come to. Where I’ve come to. This is the dominant paradigm all around me right now. It’s challenging for me, with my degrees in gender studies and my understandings of gender exclusion, to adequately explain what I’m going through while at the same time as being loyal to a more accurate and holistic vision of gender diversity and identity. It’s like, I can barely even see my own belief system in the life I’m living right now.

And also, by the way, this whole thing is also impacting the mothers of my generation, who were supposed to be on the other side of the child-caring years, finally free to live our lives without all those demands on our time and bodies…..I feel like I’m in Motherhood Chapter 2. I’m here all over again, putting my whole self — my time, my money, my life — in service of Ancient Male Fantasies.

I can’t believe I’m back here.

*****

This regression is going to have long-term consequences on Israeli society. Putting us all back into these old gender boxes. I don’t know how we, as a society, will get past this. When the men come home from war and find themselves changing diapers at 2AM instead of “saving Israel from the enemy” — what will happen then? How will these soldiers redefine heroism in ways that are livable and non-violent? I worry about that terribly.

Regression. Social, cultural regression.

I worry about the discourse of this war, about painting enemies in black and white. About justifying the violence. About thinking that Hamas are like Nazis, that everyone in Gaza is Nazis — how will we ever be able to fight those black-and white images? All those Nazi/Holocaust dog-whistles that get Jews so riled up? What are we going to do with all that?

Especially in the global context of terrifying antisemitism. Do we have the tools for being a compassionate people at the same time that we are feeling attacked? Do we have those skills at all?

And how will we ever recreate a country and a nation that is livable? That is built on values of humanity and compassion? Will we ever be able to get there?

Regression.

I worry about how this will affect Arab citizens of Israel. All this talk about the Jewish people, about enemies. Will we ever get to a point where Jewish Israelis — especially those who spent months holding guns in Gaza — where they are able to look at Palestinians, even citizens of Israel, and see them as human beings? I’m terribly worried about this, too.

So many regressions.

So many questions about what we will look like as a people when all this is over. (Months from now? Years? Ever?)

My gender worries right now are part of this general dread about the future of Israel as a culture and a society, and what it means to be part of the Jewish people. About who we are, what we believe in, what is are core ethos. Big questions. The gender piece is on my mind because I am living in the thick of it — being a female supporter of the mostly-female support mechanism of the masculine fighting machine. The machine that is impervious to criticism and is gaslighting the world and busy justifying its own incessant violence. Here I am, participating in all of it, with very little say, with no power.

The only thing I can do is try to protect the people I love. But I cannot really protect them at all from these cultural processes. There, I feel I am the most powerless of all. I can’t fight the cultural context. They are living their lives and absorbing all this, and I’m fading into the background.

Sacrifices.

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