The security precautions were impressive.
The invitations, issued in advance after thorough screenings, were non-transferable. Invitees were given the exact location of the event only days before. Moreover, all those attending had to present valid government-issued IDs in order to get in.
The well-guarded Manila gathering marked the first anniversary of the bloody October 7, 2023, attack on Israel by Palestinian terrorists that left more than 1,200 Israelis and four Filipinos dead. Not to mention several hundred hostages in bondage, many of whom were later murdered.
The unprecedented incursion also sparked a deadly war in the Middle East that has radically disrupted millions of lives, including that of Ilan Fluss, Israel’s dedicated ambassador to the Philippines.
A journey of change: From Haifa to Manila
“October 7 changed everything!” he pronounced in an exclusive interview with The Sunday Times Magazine at his official residence.
And yet, Fluss, 59, is no stranger to change. Born in Haifa, his grandfather died at Auschwitz, the notorious concentration camp in Poland, while his mother was born in a Nazi jail. A devout Zionist, she eventually “made Aliya”—the Hebrew term for moving to Israel—where Ilan entered the world with much promise in 1965.
Devoted early to what he calls “meaningful service,” the future diplomat performed his mandatory military duty as a mechanic aboard a submarine. Then, after a year spent backpacking through Asia with his then-new wife, Gila, he returned to Haifa University to study psychology and history, even completing an 18-month training course for future tour guides.
But it was the diplomatic service that ultimately captured Fluss’ heart: “A friend from high school told me he was applying, and I thought, well, that sounds interesting, why not?” By the time he got accepted, he had already embarked on a potentially lucrative career in bank management. Much to everyone’s surprise, however, young Ilan walked away from it and the rest, as they, is history.
Ironically, the new diplomat’s first posting turned out to be — you guessed it — right here in Manila, where he served as Israel’s deputy ambassador from 1995 to 1998. With one young son already in tow, a second soon arrived at none other than the Philippines’ own Makati Medical Center. And by the time the family left three years later, Gila was pregnant with a third baby boy. “So one son was born here,” the diplomatic father chortled, “and the other was made here.” This is why Fluss refers to himself these days as “the balikbayan ambassador.”
Cultural connections: Empathy and understanding
Back in the 1990s, he said, the Philippines’ main issues — besides communist and Muslim insurgencies in the south — had to do with economic, cultural and educational development.
“It’s an interesting country,” the ambassador said of the adopted Southeast Asian homeland he shares with his wife. Their three grown sons now live in Israel, along with a younger sister who joined the family later.
“Filipinos,” Fluss noted, “are very nice people; you couldn’t find nicer people anywhere on earth.”
Despite his inexperience at the time, Fluss recalled how getting assigned to the Philippines was an “easy landing” because of its historically good relations with Israel — which, among other things, includes the country’s sheltering of more than 1,000 European Jews during the Holocaust and its casting of the sole Asian vote for the UN resolution creating the State of Israel in 1947. His only complaints are the country’s traffic gridlocks and its pollution.
Neither was enough, however, to dissuade him from applying for the Philippine ambassador’s job a second time more than two decades later. Along the way, though, he made several other stops: in The Netherlands, where he got re-acquainted with encountering people taller than he was; South Africa, known for its virulent anti-Zionism; United Nations headquarters in New York City, where he successfully campaigned for an Israeli-sponsored resolution on innovation and sustainable development; and, perhaps most dramatically, an undercover assignment in Bahrain facilitating the breakthrough 2020 Abraham Accords that historically altered the political landscape of the Middle East, paving the way for a lasting peace Fluss still hopes will someday come.
During the pandemic, the globe-trotting diplomat returned to Israel to serve on the national task force combatting Covid-19. Then the Manila job opened up, and he felt a hankering to return.
His vision: “building bridges of innovation and technology between Israel and the Philippines.”
Navigating challenges: The impact of October 7
For a time, that was the new ambassador’s primary focus after returning to his old stomping grounds in 2021. “I like going out as much as possible,” he said. “I like meeting families and ordinary people outside Metro Manila. I travel as often as I can.”
His designated destinations early on included Davao, Cebu, Siargao Island, Surigao City, Palawan and Dinagat Island, to name just a few.
Then came October 7, and suddenly, the world turned a few shades darker. For a while, Fluss said, he could hardly bear it. Glued to the news, he distanced himself emotionally to avoid the overwhelming pain, then buckled down and refocused. For the next several months, the ambassador says, his one-and-only job was explaining to Filipinos what was going on more than half a world away.
To explain, for instance, that, far from being “colonizers,” the Jews have been indigenous to Israel since long before Mohammed or Islam even existed. That Israel has always endeavored to coexist peacefully with its Arab neighbors, having formally agreed to do so frequently since 1947. And that Palestinian leaders have consistently rejected the notion of peace, advancing instead the goal of brutally eliminating the world’s only Jewish state and its inhabitants “from the river to the sea.”
Also, that Israel — unlike its neighbors — is a liberal democracy offering equal rights to all citizens, be they Jewish, Muslim or other. And that, contrary to misguided reports in the world’s press, the Mideast’s only democracy does not advocate genocide nor specifically target civilians, despite the thousands being used as shields by their terrorist overseers.
“How can I promote a Palestinian state that doesn’t recognize my right to exist?” the ambassador wondered aloud. “Nobody likes the destruction, and this is not a good war. There is lots of suffering, but we need to explain.”
He also needs to show reverence, he believed, for the four overseas Filipino workers murdered on October 7, which is why he attended their wakes and memorials, offering their families critical financial and emotional support.
“We wanted to send a message to Filipinos,” Fluss conveyed, “that we are a responsible country that shares the same values.”
In fact, the four fatalities weren’t the only victims from the Philippines.
Gelienor Pacheco, 34, spent 49 days as a hostage, every one of which felt like his last. “We were given [very little] to eat each day,” recalled the caregiver, whose employer was murdered by Hamas. “When they first took me, they made me kneel, put a gun to my head, and I really thought I would die.”
Eventually, Pacheco later told reporters, he “surrendered everything to God,” and his life was spared in exchange for the freedom of two Palestinian terrorists who’d been convicted and imprisoned in Israel.
Camille Jesalva became something of a national hero to Israelis after offering the money she had saved for a Philippine vacation to the Hamas terrorist who was about to murder her and the 95-year-old woman in her care.
“Take everything but not our lives,” she recalled beseeching him during an emotional recounting of the experience at the recent Manila remembrance hosted by Ambassador Fluss. “I need to go home alive for my son.”
The terrorist took the money and ran.
Towards healing: A vision for the future
The tight security at that remembrance — which featured a photo exhibit, flower offerings for the dead and remaining hostages, and prayers recited by a rabbi and a priest — was not without cause. The past 12 months have seen a worldwide rise in anti-Semitism unprecedented since the Holocaust.
Earlier this year, 28 Israeli embassies around the world had to be temporarily closed because of threats. And university campuses everywhere have exploded in anti-Israel rage.
A pro-Palestinian group at New York’s Columbia University even marked the October 7 anniversary by rescinding an apology it had issued after one of its members said, “Zionists don’t deserve to live. Be grateful that I’m not just going out and murdering Zionists.” In a statement apologizing for apologizing, the group — Columbia University Apartheid Divest — declared, “We support liberation by any means necessary, including armed resistance.”
Most Filipinos have reacted sympathetically to Israel’s plight, according to Fluss. While there have been a handful of pro-Palestinian protests in Manila and elsewhere, he said, they have been relatively low-key and nonviolent. One of the largest occurred shortly after the initial attack last year in the southern city of Cotabato — part of the Bangsamoro Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao — where about 25,000 protestors gathered in a park waving Palestinian flags, painting their cheeks in that flag’s colors, and tearfully praying for a halt to Israel’s defensive military operations.
“As an Israeli, sometimes you feel very lonely,” Fluss admitted. “Forget the world, you think. They all hate us; they don’t understand.”
Lately, he’s been coping with all of it by trying to focus on more positive endeavors. So far this year, Fluss says, the Embassy of Israel has organized four business delegations on innovative technologies regarding water, agriculture and emergency preparedness.
Back in June, the embassy hosted a well-attended-though-somber celebration of Israel’s 76th Independence Day at the New World Hotel in Makati. And just last month, Ambassador Fluss himself sat on the floor of the new Ofakim Learning Resource Center at Malaya Elementary School in Quezon City reading the story of David and Goliath to a group of wide-eyed children. Donated by Israel, the refurbished library is named after an Israeli city tragically affected by the October attack.
And yet, there have been some silver linings in the wake of that otherwise devastating event. After an initial lull, for instance, more than 30,000 immigrants from around the world have now settled in Israel since the attack, representing what many consider a fresh surge of global unity.
“On October 7th,” Yaakov Hagoel, chairman of the World Zionist Organization, told the media, “a war erupted not against the state of Israel, but against the Jewish people.”
Fluss agrees. “We have been around for thousands of years,” he said. “After 2,000 years of not having a state, we have a state. It’s a miracle. The Jews have always been persecuted and have always survived.”
So what is it that inspires his abiding confidence this time around?
“I’m a practicing Jew and a believer in God,” the Israeli ambassador proclaimed. “I am optimistic because we have to be optimistic. We will be fine. Israel is at the forefront of the war on terror, but Israel is not alone.”
For millions of Jews around the world and their Filipino supporters, no truer words have ever been spoken.
