I came to the United States from the Soviet Union as an adult carrying memories shaped by fear—fear of being different, fear of being openly Jewish, fear of belonging to people who had survived the Holocaust.
Being Jewish was something I learned to whisper, not celebrate. But even then, even in the dull gray of Soviet life, there was one place that lived in my imagination with color and light: Israel.
As a Jewish immigrant from the the former Soviet Union, watching the events of Oct. 7, 2023, unfold was both heartbreaking and deeply personal. I was able to escape thanks to the existence of Israel. I grew up in a system that suppressed Jewish identity, where we were second-class citizens marked as “Jews” on our passports. Being targets of discrimination and cultural erasure, we were also targets of ridicule for being cowards.
Though I built a new life in America, embracing its freedom and its opportunity, my heart always held a place for the land where Jews walked tall, defended themselves, and shaped their own destiny.
That’s why Oct. 7, 2023, shook me to my core.
It wasn’t just the scale of the massacre—it was the feeling that Israel’s image of invincibility had cracked. The massacre shattered the sense of invincibility Israel carried for decades. And with that crack came a frightening question: if Israel wasn’t safe, where in the world are Jews truly safe?
I remembered the state-sponsored antisemitism and the silencing we endured in the USSR. Oct. 7, 2023, stirred the old anxieties I thought I had left behind. The fear was not only for Israel’s physical safety, but for its very role as security for the Jewish people worldwide, including here in the United States.
From across the ocean, I watched the news with disbelief and horror. The sudden breach of Israel’s defenses, the brutality of the attack, the scenes of terror—these images cut deeper than I expected, pulling me back to a childhood shaped by anxiety and uncertainty.
For the first time since the Yom Kippur War, I felt the terrifying question arise: has Israel—the miracle of Jewish strength—lost its deterrence?
Back then, it was quick and ended in a decisive victory. This time, it took longer. But what followed reminded me what makes Israel extraordinary. Even wounded and shocked, the country refused to be broken. Israel rose united and acted with determination. The same spirit that transformed the desert into a home now surged through every corner of the nation.
And yes, I found myself moved by the Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s steadiness in restoring deterrence amid chaos, despite Israel’s often tumultuous politics. From my home in America, I watched a country reaffirm why it held status as a regional superpower, not through size, but through unity, courage, intelligence, and an indomitable spirit. It demonstrated again that Israel’s strength does not disappear in moments of darkness—it grows brighter.
As a Jewish immigrant to the United States, I carry a double gratitude: gratitude for the freedom and stability America gave my family and gratitude for the existence of Israel, the homeland that protects Jewish identity with a strength the Soviet Union never allowed us to imagine.
Oct. 7, 2023, was a tragedy. But the response was a revelation.
I felt my pride in Israel surge higher than it had in years—not because the country is perfect, but because it refuses to collapse under the weight of its pain. It rises. It rebuilds. It fights fiercely for its people.
That pride was felt in how quickly the people mobilized, how civilians stood together, how the IDF regrouped and struck back with determination and focus. Yes, there was a crack in the armor, but the spirit? Still unbreakable. The rebuilding that followed proved Israel doesn’t simply win wars–it survives even the moments that try to break it.
Because Israel is not just a country. It is a promise.
A promise that the Jewish people will never again be powerless.
A promise that even in the face of terror, the Jewish spirit will shine.
A promise that we are, and always will be, a people who rise.
For someone who grew up in a system that tried to erase Jewish identity, Israel’s survival and strength remain nothing short of miraculous. For a Jewish immigrant from the Soviet Union, Israel represents more than just a state; it is a miracle with roots in blood, struggle, and determination. Oct. 7, 2023, threatened to destroy that miracle, but it didn’t. Instead, it reminded us why Israel matters, and how far it has come.
From my home in America, I say with conviction and love: Israel, I am proud of you. Proud of your strength. Proud of your courage. Proud of your future.
Israel may have momentarily lost its deterrence, but it has not lost its spirit. And in that, I find hope.
Yakov Grinshpun was born in the Soviet Union at the end of WWII in a Nazi-controlled Jewish ghetto. He currently resides in Boca Raton and is the author of “A Man of Two Superpowers: From Russia with Hope,” a memoir.
