Sunny skies hover over Tel Aviv as a quiet noon settles over the Israeli capital. The downtown terrace hums with conversation, even as music makes it hard to talk. Yet the mood remains purposeful. Dozens of young volunteers, sun-kissed and focused, gather to support friends in need. They carry drinks, but their task is clear: a visible, hands-on effort to aid soldiers and displaced families across the country by selling their art and talents and donating the profits. One organizer, Julia Mann, a documentary filmmaker, explains that the charity market is more than a pastime for these youths; it is a way to respond to losses many carry from recent conflicts.
One popular T-shirt among attendees reads I will never apologize for being Israeli, reflecting a self-managed art fair where most artists and participants are Olim, Jewish immigrants who made aliyah and became Israeli citizens. Eden Başar One Ah, 29, grew up in the United States and moved to Israel to serve in the military. He describes two and a half years in artillery units as an extraordinary, formative experience that he would choose again. He holds a US passport but hesitates when asked about it, explaining a sense of security in Israel that he does not feel elsewhere.
As participants offer facial reflexology sessions, Bachar voices his fears about the world outside the city. He recalls the attack on Kibbutz Beeri and the families affected by the violence, noting the group has since raised funds and provided 15,000 shekels to aid those in need. Olim remain a steady thread through the community, and the group now offers psychological support to colleagues who lost partners in the war. The effort has grown to include many who lost loved ones to previous conflicts, and around 140 brides have joined.
Easy and fun
Nia Shtai, a Ukrainian artist who has lived in Tel Aviv for nine years, sits among the contributors. He is neither Jewish nor Israeli, yet he has poured hours into drawing the city that welcomed him and the people around him. He notes that several friends in the military describe life as easy and enjoyable, with meals covered by various restaurants and little effort required. Shtai, who grew up near Ukraine’s border with Russia, recalls rockets that fell near his region. The experience left him with reminders of post-traumatic stress and the recent death of his dog.
Israel, he says, has faced wars frequently, and many here believe in the army and accept that wars will be fought. Yet his concern remains for civilians in Gaza and the losses in Tel Aviv. He urges friends to keep living, to see each other, and to keep creating art. The city’s perpetual summer makes it easy to forget the looming danger, but for these youths the reality of arming up is never far away.
Despite the ongoing conflict, the group remains resilient. Bachar observes that in moments of extreme stress, Israelis adapt quickly, repeating the belief that everything will be okay until it becomes true for everyone. The face of trauma is often kept calm here, and the group continues to offer support to those who need it most.
Fight for your existence
Music from a live DJ and the hum of beer tours barely mask the underlying purpose of the gathering. The market, initially a way to celebrate art, has become a lifeline for 360,000 reservists who were called as Israel widened its war in Gaza. Six weeks after the attack of October 7, the mood remains mixed: the joy of community events sits beside the stark reality of war. Naama German, a jeweler, speaks of wounds visible in the people and the need to help those in hardship while maintaining business. She notes that people now tend to save rather than spend, unsure of tomorrow, and caught between responsibility to customers and the fear of what comes next.
For many, the motive is simple: a commitment to family and country. Bachar says he cannot leave his people behind, and the youths among the DJ booth and the yoga gear offer their faces to comfort loved ones in these difficult times. On the rooftop of a well-known Tel Aviv nightclub, they press on with the belief that sharing a meal, a piece of jewelry, a cake, or a massage can remind friends that they are not alone and that the work of the group matters. The community’s shared resolve is clear: this war is a fight for existence for many in Israel, and every act of generosity adds a thread to the larger fabric of national resilience.