When Am Yisrael Chai Became More Than A Song

How Courage, Achdut And Hashgachah Pratit Turned Flight 1073 Into A Miracle Above The Clouds

The words Am Yisrael Chai are sung at moments of celebration, defiance and Jewish pride. When the survivors of Flydubai Flight 1073 finally returned home to Israel, however, those words carried a deeper meaning. This time, Am Yisrael Chai was not merely the song sung after a miracle. It described the achdut, arvut and courage through which the miracle unfolded.

When the co-pilot allegedly attacked Captain Smit Machchhar with the cockpit’s emergency crash axe and sent the Tel Aviv-bound plane plunging thousands of feet, there was no time to wait for someone else to act. Captain Machchhar, badly wounded and losing blood, used what strength he had left to release the cockpit door. Israeli passengers Yaniv Hayun, Tzvika Manes and Asaf Rajuan ran toward the danger and helped overpower the attacker. Dr. Shota Musayev, an Israeli dentist, treated the captain, while other Flydubai pilots traveling aboard took control of the damaged aircraft and landed it safely in Saudi Arabia.

Each person did what was within his ability at precisely the moment it was needed, and together they saved everyone aboard. No one person could have brought the plane to safety alone; the rescue depended on an extraordinary chain of people who refused to remain bystanders.

The cockpit door may be the most powerful symbol of the entire story. On one side lay a wounded Indian captain who had fought with remarkable mesirut nefesh to protect a plane filled largely with Jews. On the other were Jewish passengers who could have remained frozen in fear. When that door opened, they did not ask who came from which country, who practiced which religion or who was trained for the task. The captain had fought for their lives, and they rushed forward to save his.

Reporting in the days that followed revealed that the danger extended far beyond the struggle inside the cockpit. Israel reportedly closed its airspace and scrambled fighter jets after the aircraft plunged and failed to answer attempts at communication. Had it continued toward Israel and been identified as a weapon aimed at Ben Gurion Airport or another populated target, the prime minister could have faced the unbearable decision of ordering it shot down.

Instead, the plane turned toward Saudi Arabia. Saudi authorities cleared it for an emergency landing and cared for those aboard. Flydubai and Emirati officials helped arrange the passengers’ return, while the wounded captain received medical treatment. An Indian captain, Israeli Jewish passengers, an Emirati airline crew and Saudi emergency personnel became links in one extraordinary chain that brought more than 170 people home alive.

For a believing Jew, it is difficult to look at that chain and not recognize the yad Hashem. The right people were present at the right moments, each possessing precisely what was needed. A wounded captain retained enough strength to reach the door release. Passengers found the courage to run toward an armed attacker. A medical professional was available to stop the captain’s bleeding. Additional pilots were aboard to regain control, and a runway in Saudi Arabia opened before them.

We often imagine a miracle as something that descends from Heaven fully formed. Yet hashgachah pratit frequently becomes visible through people who find themselves in the right place and choose to become the Ribbono Shel Olam’s shlichim. Flight 1073 was saved through a series of such decisions, each one small enough to be human but, when placed together, great enough to avert an unimaginable tragedy.

After landing in Saudi Arabia, passengers broke into songs of gratitude. When the rescue flight finally reached Ben Gurion Airport, survivors and waiting relatives embraced, clapped and sang Am Yisrael Chai. Those words did not erase the terror they had endured; they answered it with emunah, gratitude and life.

There must now be a serious investigation into how the alleged attacker reached that cockpit. Reports that he may have sought employment with an airline serving Tel Aviv specifically to carry out an attack raise grave questions that cannot be ignored. Accountability is essential, but it should not cause us to overlook the lesson written in courage above the clouds.

Am Yisrael Chai means that the Jewish people live. On Flight 1073, it also meant that Jews accept achrayut for one another, run toward someone in danger and answer an attempt at mass murder with courage, achdut and emunah. The passengers sang because they had survived, but they survived because, when the moment came, they lived those words—and because the Ribbono Shel Olam had placed His shlichim exactly where they needed to be.