The pairing of Israel’s Remembrance and Independence Days–with the end of the first being the start of the second–seems, after half a century, quite natural and has been the subject of much interpretation confirming the significance of the match. The symbiotic connection of mourning and joy is integral to Judaism. The breaking of the glass recalling the destruction of Jerusalem is a central part of the happiest of occasions, the wedding ceremony; on the Ninth of Av–which commemorates that very destruction, the saddest date in the Jewish calendar–the tradition says that the Messiah will be born.
In truth, the decision to put these days back-to-back was neither obvious nor inevitable, and there was serious opposition to it, not all of which has disappeared. At the same time, as noted, this joining has indeed created a dynamic between the two, one commemorating tragedy and loss, the other celebrating national independence. The abrupt transition from private pain to communal joy is a difficult adjustment for many, most particularly, of course, the families of the fallen soldiers.
Israel is unique among modern nations in setting “Memorial Day” contiguous to its Independence Day. The decisions regarding the fixing the date and the “content” of the day (ceremonial, limits on public behavior) were hardly natural or obvious. They reflect tensions within Israel and conflicting systems of values within its society.
The need to commemorate those who died fighting for the state was felt early, but it came primarily from “below”–spontaneously, from the families, friends, and neighbors of the dead. They would gather on the yahrzeit (anniversary date of the death), at the graves or at battle sites. Cities, towns, kibbutzim, and moshavim organized communal memorials. The texts and rituals varied from one place to another. No single date seemed compelling around which to unite these private or local ceremonies recalling personal grief.