Dodging missiles in the Holy Land

Bryant Wright, a former Atlanta-area pastor, was leading a tour of Israel for a group of young pastors and their wives the morning of Feb. 28 when sirens sounded in Jerusalem.

That’s when the group made a dash for the nearest bomb shelter, a fortified space with a steel door below the lobby of their hotel.

“You have about 90 seconds to get into the bomb shelters once the sirens start going,” Wright said in an interview. “It’s a pretty long walk of stairwells to get there, so each time as you’re hustling down there, you’re hoping you’re going to make it in time.”

Wright, founder of Marietta, Ga.-based Right From The Heart Ministries, has led 20 other tours to Israel since the end of the Gulf War in 1991. This time, instead of touring historic Jewish and Christian sites, his group spent about 30 hours sheltering in place. Much of that time was spent inside the bomb shelter, where they read Psalms and sang worship songs. Wright said God gave them a sense of calm.

“My wife and I just really felt the peace,” Wright said. “It seems illogical to say that when missiles could hit at any place at any time.”

Wright’s group eventually left Israel through a border crossing with Egypt, but Israeli residents remain hunkered down. Since the United States and Israel initiated an air attack on Iran a little over a week ago, Iran and Hezbollah in Lebanon have launched hundreds of missile and drone attacks into Israel, including barrages that continued on Saturday. Although Israeli defenses have intercepted most of the attacks, some rockets do hit their targets. More than a dozen people have died in Israel in the past week, with more than 1,000 injured.

The constant barrages mean that millions of Israelis have repeatedly taken cover in bomb shelters over the past week. For some, including Christians living in Israel and the surrounding territories, the attacks add to a growing insecurity and economic problems that have made daily life increasingly difficult.

Each time the military detects a missile launch from Iran, Israelis’ smartphones emit a shrill warning alarm. A minute later, a message appears on the screen: “In the next few minutes, alerts are expected in your area.”

When “red alert” sirens go off in Israeli neighborhoods, people now accustomed to the drills walk calmly to their personal safe room or a shared public shelter. One neighbor may bring the family dog, another a cake to share. Children bring toys and games and are happy to see their friends.

After listening for the boom of missile interceptors and waiting for any shrapnel to fall from the sky—it takes around 10 minutes until the air is clear—everyone returns to their homes and daily routines.

Some missiles are intercepted before they enter the atmosphere, causing a colorful ring in the sky. Since many Iranian missile launchers were destroyed in the first days of the operation, the rate of incoming missiles has decreased dramatically.

According to a poll from the Tel Aviv-based Institute for National Security Studies, some 81% of the Israeli public supports the joint U.S.-Israel military operation against Iran, known in Israel as Operation Roaring Lion.

“It was necessary to degrade Iran’s ballistic missiles arsenal,” said Nimrod, a 31-year-old military reservist at a supermarket in Jerusalem who declined to give his last name. “Iran is a real, active threat that has set the Middle East on fire.” But he suggested that if casualties mount, the war will be harder to sustain. He worried that the Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps has enough power to continue controlling the Iranian population.

Speaking from his office in Bethlehem earlier this week, Anton Asfar, secretary general of Caritas Jerusalem, described a somber scene.

“The streets are almost empty. Shops are closed. Schools are closed,” he said.

With a heightened emergency alert level, the country has restricted civilian movement and operations in recent days, complicating the ability of Caritas, a Catholic charity, to provide aid to those in need.

Asfar said that, ironically, the group’s operations were working smoothly in Gaza but were disrupted in the West Bank and Jerusalem. Caritas runs a medical center in Taybeh, a Christian village in the West Bank, but three of its staff members were unable to get to work earlier this week because of closed checkpoints. Continued settler violence in the area has also made operations more difficult.

Caritas also works in Ramallah, distributing food for the elderly. Asfar noted the danger from rockets for staff who venture outside.

“We are caring for the well-being of the staff and their families, so we can’t risk them unless they are providing life-saving services like food and medical treatment,” he said.

Joblessness and severely reduced income is a problem in the region. COVID-19 and the war with Hamas had already undercut revenue from the local tourism industry even before the events of the past week. Consequently, many people are in need of food and assistance, Asfar said.

“People are struggling to earn their bread over here. That’s why many Christian families are leaving, have left already, and are still thinking of leaving,” said Asfar. “You see many houses empty now in Bethlehem, Beit Sahour, and Beit Jala because their families have left to live abroad. Some of them left for good. Others want to wait and see.”

But many Israelis remain optimistic about the outcome of the war.

Jonti, 18, works at Station 9, a restaurant that delivers food. He sees the war as necessary and said he is not afraid. “If Iran had nukes, then we should be scared!” he said. “We trust in our army.”

Speaking on Tuesday, he noted that the Jewish people are resilient. “We know we will come through. It is Purim today. History repeats itself; we have been here before.”

—with reporting from Esther Arnusch in Jerusalem