President Isaac Herzog’s Inaugural Address as the Eleventh President of the State of Israel

From the prayer for one who enters a beit midrash:
“May it be Your will, O Lord our God and the God of our ancestors, that no mishap transpire on my account, and that I not fail in any matter of halakha, and that my colleagues will rejoice in me. And that I will neither declare pure that which is impure, nor declare impure that which is pure, and that my colleagues will not fail in any matter of halakha, and that I will rejoice in them. For the LORD grants wisdom; knowledge and discernment are by His decree. Open my eyes, that I may perceive the wonders of Your teaching.”

I stand before you today, humbled and moved, gratefully accepting your trust, members of Knesset, along with the the heavy responsibility of serving as the eleventh president of the State of Israel.
I wish to begin with words of thanks to His Excellency, the tenth president of Israel, Reuven Rivlin, for a wonderful term in office and for your great contribution over the course of many years to our people and to our country. A term during which you lost your beloved wife Nechama, of blessed memory. Words simply fail to offer consolation.
Ruvi, you made your abiding love for this country and its sons and daughters infectious. You so honorably represented our country in the family of nations, including in the last month of your presidency. You painfully identified the fault-lines of Israeli society, holding up a mirror to all of us, even when its reflection was not always flattering.
My dear friend, thank you for the wise counsel you have graced me with over the many years of our acquaintance, and especially in these recent weeks since my election. Thank you for making the President’s Residence a real home for all of Israel’s citizens, of every ethnicity, faith, gender, and age. I wish you many years of good health, joy from your dear family, and a smooth journey ahead.

I also wish every success to Israel’s 36th government: to Prime Minister MK Naftali Bennett, Alternate Prime Minister and Foreign Minister Yair Lapid, and all members of the Coalition.
I have no doubt that everyone in Israel is rooting for you to rise to the great challenges facing our State of Israel, and if it becomes necessary, to stand firm against any enemy.
Internally, within our national home, difficult disagreement abounds. This is the beauty of Israeli democracy. I am confident that this entire house hopes for your success — the success of the entire State of Israel.

I also voice my best wishes to the leader of the opposition, MK and former prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu, and to all Opposition members. There can be no democracy without an Opposition. Political realities pulled me into that role on more than one occasion, and now history has put it upon your shoulders. I am fully confident that you will meet your duty to serve the people from the Opposition with a sense of commitment to our cohesion, with responsibility, and with professionalism.
I am proud of Israeli democracy and of the smooth transfer of power here three weeks ago. Like the Israeli public at large, I, too, wish for stability, growth, and security, and for the good times they will bring to us all.
At this point, I wish to offer a prayer for the safety and security of the soldiers of the Israel Defense Forces, the Israeli Police Force, and security and rescue personnel, and send thoughts of encouragement and support to our country’s medical, welfare, and education professionals.
Along with the entire Israeli public, I pray for the return of our boys, Hadar Goldin and Oron Shaul, who fought to defend our homeland and did not return. It is time for them to come home, along with all others who went missing in action in Israel’s wars, and Avera Mengistu and Hisham al-Sayed, citizens of the State of Israel, who are being held captive.

Ladies and gentlemen, I stand here before you with a deep sense of gratitude, on behalf of myself and my wife, Michal, gratitude to you and to the throngs of Israelis who filled our hearts with well wishes. Citizens, young and old, who stated, clearly and unequivocally, what they most expect from me and from all of us: to lower the tones, stop fanning the flames, and calm things down.
To you, citizens of Israel, I say: you are my mission. With your expectations, with your hopes and dreams, I intend to meet the duty each day anew: to be everyone’s president.
Everyone’s president. In normal times, this task would sound almost naïve. But alas, these are not normal times. These are times when the basis of our national consensus is being devoured by polarization. In which our unifying ethos and shared values are more fragile than ever. These are difficult times, coming on the heels of two and a half years of successive contentious elections—a political crisis without precedent in Israeli history. A crisis that modern history has taught us can ravage states much older and more established than the young State of Israel, a mere seventy-three years of age.
The Hebrew calendar is also exhorting us to pause. For we are in the midst of the Three Weeks, a time when we are asked to remember that it was baseless hatred that led to the destruction of the First and Second Temples. The same baseless hatred, the same factionalism and polarization, that still exact such a heavy toll on us. Yes, still today, every day.
The greatest toll of all is the erosion of our national resilience. When every group feels threatened, when we all withdraw into our own positions, convinced that justice is exclusively on its side, alienation grows deeper by the day. Alienation between people and between groups, which can unfortunately deteriorate into alienation between citizens and their state.
Concepts such as democracy, the national interest, social order, the independence of the judiciary and law enforcement, ethos, and heritage—these are big, abstract terms. They lack form and color. They’re too complex to be reduced into short and simple slogans. But they are nonetheless the solid foundation that holds us together, in spite of all our disagreements. Without some shared sphere of consensus, there isn’t a human group that can live together.
And we must live here together. Not because fate decreed it, but because we choose to share a destiny.

From here, I shall set out to the President’s Residence, and from there, on a journey across the fault lines of Israeli society. A journey in pursuit of what unites us, despite our differences; of what brings us together, despite our divisions; a quest of renewed self-discovery. I am setting out on this journey prepared to encounter pain, to look at it squarely in the eye, and prepared to offer my attention and my heart to seeing difficulty and apprehension, including around the most explosive points.
On this journey, as in all my years of public service, I will refuse to see the person in front of me only through the lens of identity. As always, I will choose to see what is in the inside. A human being. Human beings. Their essence. The stories that make them who they are, their complexity and uniqueness; their successes, great and small; the hardship and pain that they gathered along the way.
I shall carry with me the wonderful words of the poet Gibran Kahlil Gibran, who said: “The reality of the other person lies not in what he reveals to you, but in what he cannot reveal to you. Therefore, if you were to understand him, you would listen not to what he says, but rather to what he does not say.”

Ladies and gentlemen, the gaping wounds that have opened up in our society — along the length and breadth of this country — are still bleeding. The structural and societal problems that disempower entire populations perpetuate this difficulty. We must acknowledge that there are many, too many, among us whose day-to-day life is neither easy nor fair. So many who never get a real chance; so many for whom equal opportunity is an idea that is light years away from their lived experiences.
Ignoring this will lead us nowhere.

As a Jewish and democratic state, we must do everything to integrate the minorities in our midst. Here, in the land where Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob walked. Here, in the land where Ishmael also walked.
We must do everything we can to honor our duty to make sure that the glass ceilings shatter. To eradicate, by any means possible, every alarming phenomenon, such as the terrible, murderous violence plaguing the Arab localities. To reduce inequality and expand fair treatment on the part of our governing institutions.
But before any of that, we have to care. To care about our joint path; to care about life; to care about the intolerable loss of life in Arab society; to care about pain.
And then, we have to begin repairing. Together, only together.

Israel’s first prime minister, David Ben-Gurion, used to say, “A homeland can neither be bought with money nor conquered by the sword. You must create it by the sweat of your brow.” To which I add: protect it by the sweat of your brow. This is exactly what I intend to do.
It is our responsibility. It is the mission of our generation in the State of Israel. It is my calling, the mission of my presidency: to do whatever it takes to rebuild hope.
The first step is to stop being afraid. It is fear that robs us of hope. It fosters an abyss of suspicion and frays the bonds of trust between and among us. It is too common, too explosive, and fueled primarily by words. Words that have power that we all, at times, tend to forget, mistakenly thinking that they stop mattering when the speech is over, when the post has been written, when the curse word has been uttered.

But words have tremendous power. Power to create realities, and to change them; the power to destroy, but also the power to build – to rebuild. The power to fan the flames that can lay to waste an entire world of values. And then, as the poet Rabbi Solomon ibn Gabriol, a spiritual giant of Sephardic Jewry, wrote: “He who sows hatred, will reap remorse.”
That is why, in times like these, every public leader must act responsibly, must be a voice of moderation and calm, must choose words with attention and care. Must guarantee freedom of expression (“bituy”)—and prevent, at all costs, freedom of divisiveness (“shisuy”). And must remember the words of Yehuda Amichai: “In this burning hot country, words should offer shade.”
Because, really, we are the only ones who differentiate between ourselves. We notice every difference, every facial feature, every color, every preference. Every excuse to pull away, to collide, to argue, to win. But neither missiles nor the COVID-19 pandemic discriminate between us, nor do our enemies or our detractors. The silent headstones in our military cemeteries are uniform; so are our doctors’ and nurses’ scrubs.
And that’s why we must stop seeing the differences between us as obstacles. They are the source of our strength. It is thanks to them that Israel’s power is given full expression. After all, we would not be who we are without the immense human and intellectual diversity that came together here. That mosaic made up of uniquely Israeli qualities: the sense of family, resourcefulness, and optimism, the principles of justice and solidarity, compassion and mutual responsibility—the building blocks of a model society. The innovation, determination, and commitment to goals, the creative powers that give us “the possibility to contact human infinity,” in the beautiful words of David Grossman.
That is why I still believe in us. I believe it is possible. It is only an outstretched hand away.
Let us affirm our choice in us each day anew. Let us choose to win together, not just to beat each other. Let us choose to be gracious, to put out the flames and the hatred with our unique Israeli spirit, let us choose love, ahavat yisrael. Let us choose to be united not only in our principles and values, but also in our hopes and dreams. Let us choose to bring the final hour (“she’at hane’ila”)upon the fissures ripping us apart.
All of us, together.

Ladies and gentlemen, I grew up in a home that taught me the full spectrum of the Jewish Diaspora: From generations of community rabbis in Eastern Europe and Russia; through the pioneers and fighters who were among the founders of Motza and Hadera; from the Jews of Egypt and Sudan to the communities of Ireland, England and France. From my parents, I learned an immense commitment to serving our state, the duty to non-stop activism, day and night, for the sake of the people of Israel and the State of Israel.
But the most important lesson of all was the deep recognition of the “Eternity of Israel” and the miracle of the existence of the State of Israel.
My father, Chaim Herzog, of blessed memory, a native of Belfast, Northern Ireland, made his way alone as a teenager all the way from Europe to study in yeshiva in Jerusalem. He enlisted in the Haganah and had the privilege of being among the liberators of the Bergen-Belsen death camp from the Nazis. There he found his brethren—survivors rescued from the flames. He was an IDF major-general, the ambassador of the State of Israel to the United Nations, and finally, the sixth President of the State of Israel, who was sworn in on this very rostrum.
My mother, Aura Herzog née Ambache, may she live a long life, was born in Ismailia, Egypt and was a graduate of the Jewish Agency’s first diplomats’ course. She came up with the idea for the International Bible Contest, and founded the Council for a Beautiful Israel. My mother, who gives me a daily lesson on how hard it is to age.
And then came Michal, my wife and my love, the anchor o fmy life, who always sees the good in people and shines a light into so many people’s lives. The daughter of farming families among the founders of Afula and Kfar Yona, a wonderful combination of her late parents, Shaul Afek the Palmach fighter and Zvia the educator, from whom we parted in sorrow, in painful chronological proximity to one another, just a few months ago.

Citizens of Israel, I have just sworn allegiance to the State of Israel on the same Bible that my grandmother, the late Rabbanit Sarah Herzog, received, on the eve of her marriage to my grandfather, from her father, Rabbi Shmuel Yitzchak Hillman of Glasgow, Scotland. It is the same Bible that accompanied my grandfather, Rabbi Yitzhak Isaac Halevi Herzog, on his great rescue mission after the Second World War to redeem thousands of lost Jewish children hidden by their parents in orphanages, monasteries, and Christian homes during the Holocaust. Those boys and girls, the surviving remnants of our people, were gathered one by one and brought to the Land of Israel in myriad ways.
This is the same Bible on which my late father swore allegiance thirty-eight years ago as the President of the State of Israel. A book that survived the First and Second World Wars, aliyah to Israel, the siege of Jerusalem, the riots against the Jewish community of Eretz Israel , and then bore witness to the resurrection of the State of Israel. A book that has endured trials and tribulations and which is imprinted with joyful family memories. The Book of Life, the Book of Books.

I arrive here from the National Institutions Building in Jerusalem, where Dr. Chaim Weizmann, of blessed memory, was sworn in as the First President of the State of Israel, ending my term as the Chairman of the Executive of the Jewish Agency for Israel. That organization which has been a bridge that millions of Jews from all over the world have crossed over many decades, having prayed, “Next year in Jerusalem!” and fulfilling the vision of the return to Zion. The bridge that so many more who will leave their homes in the coming years will cross, as they come home, to us.
I have forged bold friendships with our brothers and sisters in the Jewish communities of the Diaspora and I have become acquainted with the richness of their heritage. I have been privileged to stand by their side and assure them of their safety. To connect them to the State of Israel, and to encourage the young generation to love Israel. I will continue working toward this goal with every fiber of my being.

As President of the State of Israel, I pledge to help the Government of Israel—any government—to defend the justice of Israel’s cause in the world and its right to self-defense. To support efforts to combat antisemitism and anti-Israel hatred, and to achieve the long-coveted peace with our neighbors. To stand by the soldiers and officers of the IDF, including in campaigns waged in the international legal arena, and in the struggle against the strategic threats facing Israel—chiefly, Iran’s nuclear program.

To our friends around the world, chiefly our great friend the United States of America, I declare: the State of Israel stands firmly by your side in the international arena in confronting the great, complex challenges facing humanity. Among them, a pandemic that has ravaged the whole world and continues to plague us; rapid technological advances, which must be harnessed to cultivate and promote human enterprise, not to sow hatred and discord; and a climate crisis that is heating our planet and calling on the whole world to wake up and change its habits.

My friends, the broad trust in me that you, the elected representatives of the people, have expressed — trust that transcended partisan lines, has shown me that the possibility for hope, for unity, and for consensus lives in this house, too. May this be a sign of things to come and of the tailwind you can offer me as I seek to meet the mission and responsibility being placed on my shoulders; a supportive tailwind that can help us as we set out to contend with the complex challenges facing the State of Israel and the entire Jewish people.
Thank you for listening. Thank you for entrusting me with the privilege of serving the entire Israeli public, and the Jewish people, with loyalty and love. Thank you to the citizens of Israel.
I ask from God, who sits on high, to grant all those who reside in our land the blessings expressed in the Prayer for the State of Israel, composed by my late grandfather, Rabbi Herzog: “Ordain peace in the land, and grant its inhabitants eternal happiness.” May it be so!
Long live the State of Israel!