Meet Golda Daphna.
Named for one of the strongest female leaders in Jewish history, she too has become a fierce Jewish woman who stands for truth, justice, and resilience – even, maybe especially, when it’s hard or unpopular.
Golda has been advocating for truth long before October 7th. She has amassed a large social media following on TikTok and Instagram for her commitment to sharing her truths and experiences surrounding trauma and sexual assault. Her commitment to ‘Believing All Women’ started long before, and will continue long after, October 7th.
While a student at Columbia she experienced her fair share of antisemitism on campus, from lecturers who conflated and minimized Jewish suffering, and from students who refused to work with her because she is a proud Zionist. When asked if she was surprised about the levels of antisemitism being seen both on campus at Columbia and in her hometown of New York City, she responded with a definitive, “no, not at all. If they didn’t protect me from my rapist, why would they protect students when the school stands to lose financially?” Golda Daphna comes from an Israeli family. She often tried to use the fact that in America, she too was from an immigrant family as a means of building bridges. However, she quickly learned that because of who she is and where she is from, she was shunned by “progressive” students simply because of her identity.
She decided it was time to come home.
Golda Daphna made Aliyah, or emigrated to Israel, shortly before the war broke out. She was excited to acclimate to Israel, and was enrolled in an organic chemistry program and Hebrew language classes. She was going to study for her MCATs and apply to medical school. Moving to a new country alone is always challenging, and often one feels the need to be a member of society immediately instead of taking the time to adjust. So, in search of new friends and despite not speaking Spanish, Golda Daphna went to a religious class taught in Spanish at La Casa in order to try to meet new people. Some of whom told her that they are going to a camping party on the weekend.
Sukkot was the first holiday that Golda Daphna was in Israel for. She was so excited to experience the energy of the holiday in her new city, but more than that, the Israeli calendar is slightly different than the Diaspora calendar which was incredibly significant to her. She experienced a major trauma on Shemini Atzeret, a day that is not its own unique holiday in Israel, a day that Golda Daphna would rather not commemorate. Being an observant Jew, she prepared for the holiday by writing down directions and addresses of the places she wanted to go to celebrate – as she could not use her phone during the holiday and Sabbath. She went to services on Friday night, and was out celebrating Simchat Torah at night, October 5th. She met lots of Americans, new immigrants to Israel and tourists alike. She spent the night ‘shul (synagogue) -hopping’ with her new friends.
And then she woke up to the air raid siren early on Saturday morning. Her building had no shelter. She went to the stairwell and sat between the first and second floors as instructed by her father. While in the stairwell she met some neighbours who began to piece together what was happening. “There are many dead,” they told her, “there’s a war, we’re going into Gaza.” Because it was a holiday, Golda Daphna was off her phone and wasn’t checking the news. She was convinced it was ‘just rockets’.
She took her maps and set out to go celebrate the holiday of Simchat Torah. The streets of Tel Aviv were entirely empty. The silence of what is normally a loud, vibrant city, was deafening. She ran into someone she met the night before who helped Golda Daphna find her way to the synagogue she had planned to celebrate at. As they were walking, people started running past in uniform and the tension in the air continued to thicken.
Inside the synagogue it was crowded and busy, as if it were a regular day. Of course, the people inside may not have known what was happening – that terrorists had broken though the border and were actively engaging in atrocities throughout southern communities. The news was starting to get out. People are crying openly in stairwells, and on the streets. “It’s really bad, lots of people are dying,” they say.
Golda Daphna recalls feeling an almost out-of-body experience as she begins to learn about what is happening. “My dad fought in the Yom Kippur war. I had a feeling in my body, in my bones, that I had been here before, I had experienced this before, or a part of me had. The generational trauma is real. When I close my eyes, I can go back to that exact moment.”
Over the course of the day, Golda Daphna learns small bits of what’s happening, and the severity of what is unfolding. She learns that hundreds are dead, many more will likely die. She learns that everyone should be indoors and have been instructed to stay inside unless walking a dog. She learns about an attack at a campsite (she had just met people who mentioned they were going camping for the weekend).
Each person she met and asked for details of what was unfolding took her phone number. They all called to check in on her after the Sabbath and the holiday ended. It is important to note this, because this is part of what makes Israel so unique. In Israel, at the end of the day, everyone is a big family.Eventually the holiday ends and Golda Daphna tries to call her parents. Despite them being religious and in services on the other side of the world, she finds a friend of the family who is successfully able to get them on FaceTime. While on the call, the air raid siren begins, and her father starts shaking and goes pale. He has been through this before, he knows what it means.
Golda Daphna opens Instagram and begins to see what has unfolded on that fateful Saturday. She sees Naama Levy being hauled from the black jeep, hands tied, blood-stained sweatpants.
“I was raped on Shemini Atzeret two years ago. I was excited to be in a place where the anniversary of this doesn’t exist. Then I saw what happened to Naama and I broke.”
When Golda Daphna was raped she took it upon herself to try to protect the women that could potentially be next. She was forced to be quiet, she was silenced in order to be able to graduate. She went through negotiations and litigations to be able to reclaim her life, and was met with bad faith actors. And now, on the anniversary of her rape she was witnessing rape unfold against her people on a large scale, while the world, to everyone’s surprise, looked on and cheered. The denial of rape, the fact that ‘Believe All Women’, something she had been advocating for years, felt like she was reliving her own trauma on a much bigger scale. She cried herself to sleep that night. She completely dissociated from her body, as her trauma response took over.
On October 8th Golda Daphna woke up determined to help. She went to a local synagogue and packed boxes of supplies all day. She then went to Dizengoff Square which had become the centre of operations for everyday citizens wanting to help. She had never before experienced the amount of community and involvement that she witnessed that day. It reaffirmed to her that despite the hardships and trauma we were all undergoing as a community, she had made the right decision to move to Israel.
A friend of a relative encouraged Golda Daphna to use her platform to tell the truth about what was unfolding in Israel, to use her platform and followers to be able to share the messages directly. She was hesitant at first. “It’s soul crushing,” she said. “It’s putting yourself out there on a very personal level, leaving yourself open to personal attacks. When you’re volunteering or in the army, you’re part of something bigger than yourself. As an influencer, you’re just you.” For all of the good she was doing, it would take nothing more than one negative comment from a voice she respected, survivors from the Gaza Envelope, to derail all of the positive ones received from people who felt seen in her perspectives of coping with the traumas of the war. Yet she kept fighting.
She joined volunteer groups and has been working since the start of the war. “I’ve become a baker. A kindergarten teacher. I’ve even become a farmer. But, really, I’ve done nothing. I am nothing compared to those serving our country in Gaza and the border of Lebanon right now. What I do know, what I do remember, is every Israeli that has thanked me. The refugee from Sderot. My fellow neighbors in the bomb shelter. Every time I feel embarrassed to speak Hebrew in my American accent, they say “it is amazing you stayed.” “Thank you.” And so, by sharing my story, I hope to inspire others to come here. To help here. To become a jack of all trades in the scrappiest most determined most beautiful nation in the world. To raise the morale for our soldiers risking everything for our continued existence.”
Despite all of the light and positivity she brings to everything she does, each rejected hostage deal brings her to tears. Each negotiation in good faith. Every time she sees someone that reminds her of the women still being held hostage and being raped on a daily basis. Each time, she feels with her whole heart and mourns with her entire being. She keeps facing every situation with love and compassion, and continues, despite it all, to keep her heart open.
Her love for her nation, for her country, for her heritage rebuilds what her trauma – and mismanagement of it – took from her. She will continue to advocate for peace, for justice for all women. Never the victim, always a Lioness of Zion, and a soldier for our people. Just like the Prime Minister she shares a name with.
Comments