In the midst of war, amidst the rubble and chaos of Gaza, a young musician found his voice. Omri Goren, a 28-year-old artist from Jerusalem, spent nearly six months fighting in Gaza. But even in the darkest moments, his faith and music never wavered.
Omri’s journey as a musician began on the streets of Jerusalem. “I wanted to start from the bottom, to connect with people,” he recalls. “I would stand somewhere in Mamilla with my guitar and just start singing. One person would stop, then another, and suddenly there were dozens of us singing and rejoicing together.”
These street performances taught Omri an important lesson. “I observed people in their daily rush. Some were dressed impeccably. But they stopped, looked at me, and connected to the music. It moved me deeply.”
Omri’s path to music was paved by his father, Rabbi Ram Goren, a musician in his own right. “When I was eight, my father realized how much I connected to music and sent me to learn the clarinet. He bought me one, and I would occasionally play at Chassidic gatherings. He connected me to music and niggunim (Chassidic melodies).”
But it was in the heart of conflict that Omri’s music found its deepest resonance. During his time fighting in Gaza, he wrote and composed a song titled “Until Victory.” The chorus rings out: “Until victory, we’ll fall and rise, I’m with you / Until all the quiet is over / I’m not moving from here / You’ll never feel alone / And my heart shall not fear / We’ll land, we’ll fly / We’ll find another moment / In this madness / Our eyes shall yet see.”
“The song was written for a friend who was breaking down,” Omri explains. “I wanted to cheer him up – until victory, I’m with you! We wanted to convey a message that within all this great darkness, suddenly the great light will break through and we’ll see the redemption.”
The music video for “Until Victory” was filmed entirely using the bodycam attached to Omri, capturing the reality of the fighting. “This documentation from the inside gives a natural and tangible illustration to the words, and above all, conveys a message of victory over evil.”
Another creation born from the war bears the title “Niggunim of Joy.” Omri wrote the lyrics with Almog Tabaka and Maor Sapir. “It happened after a long stay in the assembly areas, before entering the Gaza Strip. All the soldiers wanted was to be encouraged and rejoice, and from there the wonderful melody grew, which the fighters hummed non-stop.”
The power of music to touch hearts became clear to Omri in a poignant moment. “I performed at a prayer and memorial event for fallen fighter Yaakov Shlomo Krasniansky. After the performance, his mother approached me and said that she had been to several memorial events for her son, but my singing really touched her heart. Since then, I’ve been going to the family’s home every month for a Torah lesson with members of the undercover unit, and we sing together. In moments like these, I thank G-d for giving me the mission to bring joy to the people of Israel.”
Despite the hardships of war, Omri found unity among the soldiers. “All the toxic talk about the draft law doesn’t penetrate the fighters, because when there’s a big mission in front of your eyes – to be together and fight for the people of Israel – no one has time for division. You can see a Haredi fighter on your left, someone who defines himself as an ‘atheist’ on your right, and everyone is fighting together. The most important thing for the fighters is the unity of the people.”
As Omri reflects on his experiences, he realizes that his music has become more than just entertainment – it’s a source of strength and unity in trying times. “To singing, there’s so much power to touch hearts,” he says. “In those moments when we sing together, whether it’s on the streets of Jerusalem or in the rubble of Gaza, I feel we’re part of something bigger. We’re connecting to our faith, to each other, and to the hope for a better future.”
Omri’s journey from street performer to soldier-musician is a testament to the enduring power of faith and music. His songs, born from the crucible of conflict, continue to inspire and unite, reminding us all that even in the darkest times, there’s always a melody of hope waiting to be sung.
Translated from Sichat Shavua
