Speech at Mt. Herzl Torch Lighting Ceremony
by Knesset Speaker Reuven (Ruby) Rivlin
Yom Ha'atzmaut 5769

My brothers and sisters, all the people of Israel,
Happy Independence Day!

We stand here once again on this hill -
leaders, tribes, elders, police, children, women, all of Israel

We have come once again to this hill - on one side the grave of the prophet
[of Zionism], on the other the graves of our children -
to talk again of the Exodus,
to remind ourselves once again from where we came,
and where, with the grace of God, with the blood of our children and with
the sweat of our brow - we have succeeded in reaching so far.

We have returned here as we do each year.
But, perhaps now that all the excitement of the festivities of the Sixtieth
Anniversary of the State of Israel has died down, there may be those who ask
what is there left to talk of, that has not already been said?

True, those for whom Independence Day is merely a lively celebration, are
likely to feel a certain emptiness after the lights are turned off when the
festivities have ended.

On the other hand, those for whom the Independence Day festival is rooted in
the Hebrew Calendar (that gives expression, in the purest form, to our
national narrative),
probably realize that for a nation that has continued, for thousands of
years, to celebrate annually the Exodus from Egypt - the relevance of
festivals and days of celebration are measured not by their clamour, but
rather by how well rooted they are within the community, the family, and
more than all this within our hearts.

Our Independence Festival is so special - the silence of our personal
communion on this day is the purest preparation for the heartfelt joy that
erupts in the evening.

Our Independence Festival is so moving, because each one of us feels how the
song of praise of the evening breaks through the grief of remembrance of the
day.

The tears of pride of each one of us, here, on this hill of national memory,
and wherever an Israeli heart beats at this special moment, when the flag is
raised from half mast,
at that moment when we pass from one holy time to the next, from "Yizkor",
the memorial prayer, to "Hallel", the prayer of praise - those tears of
pride tell the real story of this day, and prove to us how deeply rooted is
this day within our hearts.

The special narrative of this day is not merely the story of the redemption
of 5708/1948, it is also the narrative of the generation of 5769/ 2009,
which also, day by day, has to continue to pay the price for our liberty,
for our independence.

Just recently we watched with deep emotion those heroic fighters who risked
their lives in the "Cast Lead" Operation. We were choked up at the sight of
those noble figures who live here among us, here and now in Israel of 2009
(an Israel that so longs for a normal life, that more than anything wants a
little peace and quiet) - figures like Second Lieutenant Aharon Karov, who
leaped like a lion from his wedding in order to lead his soldiers into
battle, where he was critically wounded.
Like the figure of Lieutenant Colonel Oren Cohen, commander of the 13th
Golani Battalion, who is here with us this evening among those who will be
lighting the beacons. Oren was also wounded during the "Cast Lead"
Operation, and intends to return to full military service after
rehabilitation. Their bravery (now in the rehabilitation wards, just as
during the battles where they were in command) reminds us daily what
strengths are and will continue to be demanded from us if we are to live a
normal life here in an abnormal situation.

Independence Day also tells us, then, that impossible story: the story of
normality that has been built up here, under totally abnormal conditions,
and the price of a simple, quiet life that all parents wish for their
children, for which we have to continue paying, in blood.

That simple, human desire for a little normality might have taken over our
entire existence here. But we all know (and there is nothing like
Independence Day to remind us of this) that the story of the State of
Israel, the story of Zionism, the story of the return to Zion, does not
consist only of the desire for a little normality.

Millions of people left the land of their birth, preferring to live in the
heart of the Middle East, at the centre of the most explosive conflict in
the world, just so that they could live in the Jewish State. Their numbers
continue to prove, today too, that there is an additional element to the
Zionist enterprise; something beyond the simple desire to live a normal
life.

It is this relatively quiet sixty-first Independence Day - not made extra
special by bearing a round number - that can present us with the opportunity
to once again link up with that additional element, with what Independence
Day means for us in Israel of 2009.

And Israel of 2009, is no less impressive than Israel of 1949.

On the contrary:
It is more democratic, more open, and also more Jewish in both identity and
culture; it is more tolerant, far more sophisticated, and a little less
demagogic.

Families now are less often torn apart by arguments over "Ihud" or "Me'uhad"
[reference to ideological divisions in the Kibbutz movement], and more often
because of HaPo'el or Maccabi or Betar [football teams], although politics
can still stir things up and rightly so.

Israel of 2009 may be less ideological - but there are more idealists.
Their ideology may be less clearly formulated, less intense, but it is more
human, more loving, more closely attuned to the hearts of people.
Israel of 2009 may perhaps take itself less seriously - but it never forgets
where it is located.
It may be more cynical - but it is far more realistic.

Most Israelis are less committed to the dogmas of the past, to the slogans
of the past, to social categories of the past, to the exclusivity of the
politics of the past, to the hatreds of the past and to the settling of
accounts of the past - but they are no less Zionistic, no less Israeli, no
less involved, no less committed.
This situation may, perhaps, be a little confusing.

There are those among us who see this post-modern spirit as a great danger.
There are those who see the erosion of the old values as a symptom of
ideological decline, of weakness, of weariness.

There are those who fear we may forget what world we live in, how hostile is
our environment (where they continue to hate us and to threaten us just as
in the past).

But I believe that the heroes who live among us, the very many good people
among us, prove differently.
I believe that this ideological dynamic does not indicate that we are less
principled than we were a generation or two ago, it rather proves that we
have here, today too, exceptional powers of vitality, of original thought,
of thinking "outside the box", of creativity that breaks through boundaries.
I believe that this additional element has been the secret of our existence
as a nation for thousands of years now and is also the secret of our
survival here in this turbulent land.

This element - that caused the Zionist revolution to happen and enabled us,
against all odds, to establish our State (that everyone regards as a
wonder - both those that love us and those that hate us) - still remains
vibrantly alive here today.

It is due to this element that we are able to continue renewing ourselves.

This element does not allow us to mourn the glories of the past that are no
more, but drives us on to design the future, with that same pioneering,
revolutionary spirit, with that same dedication that beat in the hearts of
the generation of Tashach, the generation of 1948.

This is also the reason, I believe, that even an appreciation of the
difficult situation in which we live - a situation that refuses to retreat
even before sophisticated dreams, before castles in the air - does not cause
us to lose hope, does not bring us to total despair.

It is this ability to build, to be built, and to renew, that allows us to
look straight at the complex challenges that face us today.
It is this ability that will allow us to deal with the world economic
crisis, and with the tidal wave of employment problems that are right now
hurting so many families in Israel.
It is this that will also enable us, with God's help, to deal with both the
threats against us and with those who threaten us.
It is this Day of Independence, my brothers and sisters, which symbolizes
so well that wonderful ability.

Independence Day is not merely the event when we count the number of years
that have passed since the day the High Commissioner rolled up the Union
Jack and sailed for home.
Independence Day is recharged each year with new meanings, new values - each
generation and its values, each generation and its needs.

Just like our ancient festivals, Independence Day is not merely a mass of
historical symbols.
It also brings us a break for joy, for true, authentic joy, which we
deserve, which our State deserves, each year anew.

Joy for what we have - and we have so much;
joy for our liberty (which should never be taken for granted);
the joy of gratitude.

True, simple, Israeli joy, joy for the wonderful normality that despite
everything has existed here for sixty one years now.

Happy Independence Day!

Lighting of the Beacon by the Knesset Speaker

I, Reuven Rivlin, son of my beloved father, Yosef-Yoel, and of my beloved
mother, Rachel, may they rest in peace,
descendent of the disciples of Rabbi Eliyahu, the Ga'on of Vilna, who made
Aliyah to the Holy Land at his behest in 1809,
am honoured to light this beacon, on the sixty-first Independence Day of the
State of Israel,

In honour of - the Knesset, the faithful reflection of Israeli society and
the supreme expression of Israeli democracy.

In honour of the residents of Sderot, Ashkelon, and all the towns and
villages of the Gaza border area, unwilling heroes for eight years and more,
whose spiritual strength and firm stand brings inspiration to the whole
nation.

In honour of Gilad Shalit, who has not yet returned from the mission he was
sent on by us, while we, as a State, as a nation, and as human beings never
forget for a moment that the narrative of Independence Day is also the
narrative of the oath of loyalty between the State and its soldiers.

In honour of the pioneers of Gush Katif, who are again holding onto to the
soil of this Good Land, seeking a healing for their wounds and teaching us
all, again, a poignant chapter in the history of Zionism.

And also in honour of Tel Aviv, vibrantly young, one hundred years old, that
from time to time sweetens the solemnity of Jerusalem,

And to the glory of the State of Israel!