The year that tore Israel apart

There is cold fury among citizens at the months of political turmoil that weakened the country before the atrocities of 7 October

- Jonathan Freedland

The war is paused, but it is not over 

There will be relief at the promised four days of quiet between Israel and Hamas, and there will be joy for the families reunited with their loved ones, thanks to yesterday's exchange of hostages held in Gaza for prisoners held in Israel.

But even if the ceasefire is extended, perhaps in return for the release of more Hamas-held captives, this war will not be over anytime soon. If anything, it is likely to intensify.

It is too big to stop now, it runs too deep. And it has already turned Israel upside down.

You only have to spend a few days in the country to see that. The war is everywhere. In the airport, signs direct you to the nearest bomb shelter in case the siren should sound. Open Google Maps and, unprompted, it shows you where to go to take cover.

By the roadside, huge billboards carry patriotic slogans - "We Will Triumph", "We Are All One Israel" against the rippling blue and white of the national flag.

Use a taxi-hailing app, and it promises you that "Together we'll get through this!". And everywhere, on every lamppost and every wall, even on the display screens of the passport machines, are those same images of the hostages' faces and the everpresent demand, sometimes shouted through hoarse megaphones at traffic intersections, sometimes on T-shirts: Bring Them Home Now.

On that, and on the war itself, there is a striking unity. Among Jewish Israelis, the internal dissent that greeted the first Lebanon war in 1982 and the second in 2006 is absent now.

There is next to no opposition, even from those who stood against previous military operations in Gaza. This, they say, is different.

It has been seven weeks since an estimated 3,000 Hamas men with murder on their minds tore down the fence that stood between them and southern Israel.