It may seem unseemly to consider the pursuit of happiness at this exceptionally unhappy time. With all the misery in Gaza, fighting along Israel’s northern border, fading hope of a hostage release, and pervasive sense of loss, you might think we Israelis would do best to lean into the heaviness of the moment and wait for it to pass.
But maybe now—especially now—when the obstacles to happiness are ever-present (you can’t walk a block in Jerusalem without seeing a hostage poster and feeling your stomach drop), is precisely the time to think about how we might eke out a modicum of contentment. After all, happiness—in some form—is a necessity, and almost always a choice.
This week’s Purim festivities were a test of the happiness dilemma we face. For weeks, the country debated how to celebrate the holiday in light of current circumstances, and whether to celebrate it publicly at all. Like most people, I felt conflicted. I could not imagine commemorating the survival of the Jewish people after its attempted annihilation by Haman more than two thousand years ago, while 134 Israelis are being held hostage, and millions of Palestinians are suffering at the hands of Hamas right now. And yet, I thought, if here was a day specifically marked for merriment, perhaps I should seize it.
I embarked on a deliberate, joy-sparking mission. I sewed costumes. I baked cookies. I joined friends in listening to the recounting of the Purim story. I snatched up our cousins-like-grandchildren (ages 3 and 8), and headed to Jerusalem’s Adloyada parade.
Each effort yielded modest results. The costumes were a hit. The reading from the biblical Book of Esther was a hopeful reminder that history can unfold in unlikely ways. The parade was more fraught. A giant clock ticking away each second since the October 7 kidnappings took place grimly opened the procession, and yellow ribbons studding costumes and sweeping through floats were painful reminders of the ongoing hostage crisis. But spectacularly creative characters and creations offset the difficult moments. There was even an Einstein float courtesy of the Bloomfield Science Museum, and a Chabad goat float to carry away our sins (what’s a parade without one?). In the end, the parade mirrored the intentional happiness I, and all of us, are working to cultivate. At that, it was a success: it made us happy, for a while, despite it all.
It seems Israelis have a knack for intentional happiness. This week, the 2024 World Happiness Report ranked Israel the world’s fifth happiest country out of the 143 surveyed. Despite terrorism, political paralysis, and societal rifts, there we were, conspicuously wedged between Sweden and the Netherlands, and riding on the heels of Finland, Denmark, and Iceland, those hyper-functional Nordic countries that took first, second, and third place.
Objectively, Israel deserves high marks for four out of the six factors upon which the World Happiness Report is based: the amount of social support we give and receive, the quality and accessibility of our health care, the freedoms we enjoy, and the generosity our society offers. (We fare less well on the other two factors—income levels and absence of corruption.) But there is still something astounding and seemingly inexplicable about the fact that we came in fifth place, especially when you consider where our neighbors landed: Jordan was number 125, Egypt 127, and Lebanon 142, just one spot above the unhappiest country of all, Afghanistan.
Even more surprising, among respondents under the age of 30, Israel came in second place. That’s right. Despite compulsory army service and the call-up of nearly every under-30-year-old reservist (the survey was conducted after October 7), young Israelis, by their own assessment, are some of the happiest young people in the world.
Of course, one can take issue with the World Happiness Report. Finland’s detractors (the country has topped the list seven years in a row), like to point out its outsized level of alcohol consumption, and its high murder and suicide rates. This year, the haters and cynics will likely chalk up Israel’s high ranking to the satisfaction they believe we take in committing what they consider a “genocide” of the Palestinians.
But the main findings of the World Happiness Report have been consistent since it was first compiled in 2012. Each year, Israel has ranked near the top. Last year, we reached fourth place, and we have never dropped below fourteenth (2019).
I think those results—like this year’s Jerusalem Purim parade—illustrate something fundamental about the Israeli experience: we make the effort to choose happiness whenever we can.
Well done Sheryl, what a great article!
Shira and Barry
I love this, and I'm happy you were able to find a happy moment inside the chaos that is life right now. Very well written too!