It seemed as if all of Jerusalem had been destroyed – or at least the entire Jewish part of this divided city.
With traffic crawling more than a mile below the cemetery entrance, the funeral had to be postponed.
As it began, thousands gathered shoulder to shoulder under the pines and cypresses of Mount Herzl to hear eulogies and prayers for a young woman they had never known and who had lived here “alone” for the past two years.
A few hours later, when the traditional three volleys of gunfire had finished echoing across the biblical landscape below, the crowd dispersed.
The previous day’s vignette of our suffering during the war had been a much more intimate affair; drinking coffee on the fifth-floor balcony of a Ukrainian refugee apartment in the southern city of Ashkelon as the air shook from airstrikes and artillery fire on the adjacent Gaza Strip.
And before that meeting, we stood in line in the bright sunshine of Jerusalem’s Russian Compound neighborhood to gain access to the criminal court on Jaffa Street. There, a woman who we had met just last week on the legendary Mount of Olives was to appear in the dock for the first time, on serious charges.
Rosie Lubin, 20, was a member of the IDF and was fatally stabbed in Jerusalem by a 16-year-old Palestinian boy
Ukrainian mother Katia is pictured with her son Stanislav at their home in Ashkelon, Israel
Suraya’s nephew, 17-year-old Adam Abu Alhawa, was shot dead after reportedly stabbing and seriously injuring a border police member
This is the story of Rose, Katia and Suraya; Three women were caught up in the same disastrous war.
One was mortally wounded on Monday last week, the second finds she escaped one bloody conflict only to be captured by another. The third is in prison, where she may remain for several years.
Since Hamas launched its murderous rampage from Gaza on the morning of October 7, thousands of Israelis and Palestinians have died and hundreds of thousands – perhaps millions – from both sides of the conflict have been driven from their homes.
It is difficult to quantify the numbers – and the suffering.
The effects of the conflict can only be reported in individual stories. And so we return to Rose, Katia and Suraya.
Girl who loved fishing and wanted children
Rose Lubin was only 20 years old when she died; an American Jewish girl from a suburb of Atlanta, Georgia.
She was the eldest of five children, and although short in stature, she was apparently an excellent athlete, particularly in wrestling. She held firmly to the faith of her ancestors.
In 2021, at the age of 18, Rose made aliyah – the migration of a member of the Jewish diaspora to Israel.
Rose Lubin was only 20 years old when she died; an American Jewish girl from a suburb of Atlanta, Georgia
Hundreds of mourners attended her funeral. Rose enlisted in the Border Patrol and rose to the rank of sergeant
She was part of an ID check at one of the gates to the Israeli-occupied Old City of Jerusalem when a 16-year-old Palestinian boy from the area fatally stabbed her
Rose’s funeral was postponed to allow her family to travel from America. But her death also evidently captured the post-October 7 Israeli imagination
Her younger brother told the congregation that his big sister changed her hair color to a dizzying extent as a teenager and recalled how “Rose lived a life without judgment.”
She went to school here to improve her Hebrew, and although she wasn’t required to do so – as young, native-born Jewish Israelis are – she joined the IDF. She enrolled in the border police and rose to the rank of sergeant. As an IDF member who had no other family in Israel, she was classified as a “lone soldier.”
In life this granted some small administrative privileges. That made her special in death and in what some Israelis describe as an existential war. Jerusalem came to their farewell.
On October 7, Rose Lubin took part in the defense of her kibbutz near the Gaza border.
On Monday last week, she was part of an ID check at one of the gates to the Israeli-occupied Old City of Jerusalem when a 16-year-old Palestinian boy from the area fatally stabbed her and injured one of her colleagues before being “neutralized” – to use local terminology to use. The boy’s identity has not been released.
Rose Lubin’s funeral was postponed to allow her family to travel from America. But her death also evidently captured the post-October 7 Israeli imagination.
With such a crowd, it is difficult to even get close to those giving the eulogies. The public address system at the military cemetery on Mount Herzl is not always clear, but key phrases emerge: “She knew she didn’t…she wanted…heroes…the Jewish people…to take away.” that Evil that is coming upon us…’
Then her younger brother speaks more clearly. He tells the congregation that his big sister changed her hair color to a dizzying extent as a teenager and remembers how Rose lived a life without judgment. Rose had a great ability to make you feel better… [She was] “The sweetest person you’ve ever met, but also the toughest.”
She loved horses, catfishing and catching fireflies and wanted seven children, he said. “She wants us to mourn her but not give up,” he added.
Then a sister read from a diary Rose had written.
“No matter how difficult it is to turn the other cheek, I will always strive to do the right thing… I will do something great for the world…”
Mother fled when her son became afraid
Katia was born into a Jewish family in Sevastopol in what is now Russian-occupied Crimea. She grew up in the Ukrainian port and holiday city of Odessa.
This was one of the largest cosmopolitan metropolises in the world. Before the Nazi Holocaust, the Jewish community made up a third of the population. Katia’s family survived and lived in independent Ukraine with a Jewish president, Volodymyr Zelensky.
Katia studied medicine and became a dermatologist and virologist. She moved to a hospital in the capital Kiev and found a home near the commuter settlements of Bucha and Irpin. She and her lawyer husband had a son, Stanislav.
Katia, Stanislav and her husband Alexandr with the family cat Lancelot. They fled to Israel after the Russian invasion of Ukraine
On February 24, 2022, when Russia began its invasion of Ukraine, these comfortable communities may have been the worst place in the world.
“We had a big house with a basement and on the first day of the war we moved our everyday lives there,” she remembers, her window shaking.
“We thought this war in Ukraine would last three or five days, not too long.” But then one evening we go into our kitchen [to get food] And there was an explosion that shook the ground and we saw the red flash of the explosion.
“My son, who was only 19 months old, was too scared. He only knew five words. One of those words was “basement.” At that moment I realized it was time to leave Ukraine.”
They were supported by a local Jewish organization. First they took a bus to a synagogue in the capital Kiev, then they moved to Hungary and finally flew to Israel as refugees.
First they stayed overnight in a hotel in Jerusalem. Then the state found her this small apartment in Ashkelon, seven miles from the Gaza border. She chose it because she came from Odessa – “where my soul is” – and wanted to be by the sea. Big mistake.
One morning Hamas attacked. She and her son, whom she calls “Stas,” sought shelter in the stairwell of her apartment building.
“We saw that [Hamas] Rockets. It was a big shock. It felt like Ukraine outside. I felt the air of the bombs and the shaking of the windows. I was scared again.
“Now when Stas goes to visit friends, his first question is: ‘Where is the animal shelter?’ For me as a mother and doctor, it is very terrible to hear about the killing of children. Whether they are Israelis, Palestinians, Ukrainians or Russians.”
They brought their now nine-year-old sphinx cat named Lancelot with them. He sleeps on the balcony during the noise of the Gaza bombing.
‘My [new] Friends ask me: “How can he do this?” says Katia.
“And I tell them, ‘Because he’s a Ukrainian cat.’ “That’s just a greeting compared to what we’ve heard before.”‘
Grieving aunt conducts television interview
The story of the third woman, Suraya, is about another Palestinian teenager who attacked an Israeli with a knife – and was then felled by bullets.
It happened on October 31st. I was shaving in my hotel room in East Jerusalem when gunfire cut through the sounds of children playing in the Palestinian school next door. Then another outbreak.
People ran into the streets, sirens blared, and vehicles carrying armed police officers raced screaming up Nablus Road.
When I arrived at the scene, 17-year-old Adam Abu Alhawa was lying dead in the gutter outside the entrance to St. George’s Anglican Cathedral, where the Archbishop of Canterbury had preached just days before.
Suraya was arrested for “incitement” – a crime punishable by up to three years in prison – because of her comments during her television interview
He reportedly stabbed and seriously injured a member of the border police. He was shot while trying to escape.
Near the crime scene, Ahmed, a member of Adam’s extended family, approached me. He said he had no idea Adam was involved in radical politics.
He then took me to the teenager’s family home on the Mount of Olives, where Jesus is said to have ascended to heaven.
The Palm Sunday Road address has already been cordoned off by police. When we arrived, Adam’s father Nasser – a disabled tourist postcard seller – and two of his sisters had been arrested and taken away.
As the security forces left the street, we got closer. We discovered that the knife shooter’s family home had apparently been ransacked during the raid.
I saw that everything was turned over or on the floor; The door of a new refrigerator was ripped off and the family television was smashed.
Amid the chaos, the knife shooter’s mother – who did not yet know her son had died from his wounds – hysterically lamented the damage. That’s when we met her sister Suraya.
At the time I reported: “Out on Palm Sunday Road, Adam’s aunt is venting to a local Palestinian TV crew.
“They are doing this because they want our country!” She screams. “They want us to leave, but we will never give up!”
Suraya – who wore a hijab – said many other things that I missed. But her loud tirade continued for a while. It also had consequences.
That evening, Ahmed hosted a dinner for members of the dead boy’s close family at his nearby home. He told me it was because their own house was now uninhabitable due to the damage caused by the police.
Later that evening, his own house was searched by police, he said. He had to sign a declaration that he would not host such an event again.
The spiral continued.
Aunt Suraya was arrested for “incitement” due to her comments during her television interview. Her family said the offense could be punishable by up to three years in prison.
A few days ago we contacted Adam’s father Nasser.
He was visibly scared and said he wouldn’t talk to us or he would be arrested like Suraya.
A family member said they were told they were not allowed to hang young Adam’s funeral pictures or Palestinian flags outside the house because they expected authorities to tear them down.
They told us that collective punishment is common practice when a resident’s family member attacks security forces.
We went to the Jaffa Street court to hear Suraya’s case.
There we were informed that due to “wartime restrictions,” members of the press were no longer allowed to enter the court grounds to report.
The defendants’ family members were also not allowed to attend.
Another member of Adam’s family claimed that Suraya was told that she would face a longer prison sentence if the police officer injured in his attack died.
The Mail has contacted authorities about the case but has not yet received comment.
The cycle of hate continues.
The numbers and the suffering are difficult to calculate.
But I can tell you about three women and their families who got caught in the middle.