TEL AVIV — “You’re going to the pool? We’re freaking out here!” That was the reaction of a Toronto-based friend of mine a few days ago, knowing that I’m an avid swimmer. “What am I supposed to do? Go fetal?” I replied.

Life in Israel is surreal these days — as it has been since October 7. The tension is constant and ever-heightening. Since the assassination of Hamas political leader Ismail Haniyeh in a secure guest house in Tehran on July 31, things have been particularly charged.

Several versions of Haniyeh’s demise have been discussed, but the most likely seems to be that a bomb was placed in his guest room and activated remotely in the middle of the night. He and his bodyguard were killed.

The Iranian leadership was already skittish. On May 19, then-president Ebrahim Raisi died when his helicopter crashed in a densely fogged, mountainous area. Elections were held in late June and early July. President Masoud Pezeshkian, a 69-year-old heart surgeon and reputed “moderate,” won in the runoff.

Having just attended the inauguration festivities in Tehran, Haniyeh tucked in for the night. It is believed that Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) operatives were instrumental in the operation, which many have attributed to the Mossad, but the Israeli intelligence agency has not publicly taken responsibility.

One day earlier, a top Hezbollah commander, Fuad Shukr, was assassinated in Beirut by an Israeli airstrike. He is believed to have been the mastermind behind a missile attack on the Druze village of Majdal Shams in northern Israel on July 27, in which 12 children aged 16 and under were murdered and dozens injured.

The targeting of children playing soccer on a Saturday afternoon demanded a strong and swift response. Yet all of this, inevitably, begets further violence. Just days after the assassinations, Iran’s supreme leader, Ali Khamenei, vowed publicly to avenge with a direct and harsh attack on Israel.

Typically, the Iranian leadership is much savvier, issuing threatening but ambiguous statements to allow for manoeuvring. But not this time.

Almost two weeks later, Israel is still waiting for the fallout. On Tuesday, Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah (an Iranian proxy) said that the uncertainty is intended to compound the psychological warfare against Israel.

Perhaps. But it may also reflect extreme turmoil among the leadership class in Iran following an unthinkable security breach.

It is all somewhat reminiscent of the Cold War days of Kremlinology, when experts would read deep meaning into whatever they might glimpse of the Soviet Union’s very opaque leadership. Iran has been somewhat similar but increasingly porous.

In a country where 80 per cent of the population supports regime change, everyone is suspect — and after the Haniyeh incident, that really means everyone. Even the elite leadership in the IRGC.

Today, in Iran, we have a new president who has not yet established his authority and relationships with the various power bases. The Haniyeh killing was wildly destabilizing. That a sanctuary for top-level VIPs — which was operated by IRGC staff — could be penetrated so directly has unquestionably shaken the regime. No one can be trusted.

There have been reports of hundreds of arrests, including virtually all staff working at the guest house. It is notable that Iran pointedly denied those reports in recent days, saying that the assassination was being investigated professionally and carefully. Which only confirms the likelihood that the stories of mass arrests and panic are true.

And then there’s the matter of the very public commitment made by Khamenei to avenge the killings, vowing to punish Israel in a manner that eclipses the Iranian attack in April. But his plan has hit a few bumps.

Saudi Arabia and Jordan made clear to Iran that no missiles or other weapons would be permitted to pass through their airspace. This makes a missile attack much more difficult for Iran. Then, the United States began moving significant military assets into the region, including warships.

Gen. Michael Kurilla, commander of U.S. Central Command, has been in Israel meeting with security officials. American support for Israel has been unequivocal. For all its bluster, Iran knows that it cannot begin to match the combined intelligence and operational capabilities of Israel and the U.S. Igniting a broader regional conflict is not in its interest.

So, it seems that Iran is hesitating. In the Middle East, particularly after all the threats, that is seen as weakness.

Russian President Vladimir Putin has provided Iran with advanced missile and air defence systems in recent days. He has also urged Tehran to avoid civilian targets in Israel, which is precisely what the Islamist regime has announced it intends to hit. Displeasing President Putin would not be the cleverest move for Iran at this point.

Nasrallah has also been given to fiery oration in recent days, but he will not significantly escalate the already heated conflict on Israel’s northern border without assurances that Tehran will protect Hezbollah’s flank.

How do Israelis live with this impossible tension? They really have no choice. They carry on as normally as possible with their daily routines and responsibilities until there is a reason to stop doing so.

Earlier this week, I drove into Tel Aviv for some meetings. I thought about washing my car. Then I thought about how crazy that is. We could be hammered at any moment by Iranian missiles, and I’m thinking about how dirty my car is.

The uncertainty hangs over everything and always comes up. And then we carry on and do what we do. I had some meetings. I went for a hair appointment. Of course, all we discuss is “the situation,” as things are referred to in Hebrew.

Anecdotally, it’s not so good. My hair lady updated me on the old neighbourhood, where I lived until early July, and where her salon is located. She said that quite a few families with young children have left the country. And not just for vacation.

There are far more garage sales than usual. Everything feels charged, almost electrostatic. I mentioned to her that before leaving the house, I packed a knapsack with essentials — water, food, a change of clothes, medication and my laptop — because if all hell breaks loose while I’m out, I need to be prepared.

The drive to my home in southern Israel from Tel Aviv takes just over an hour when traffic has subsided. It was dark as I drove along Road 232, which winds through orchards, fields and small communities.

On October 7, 232 was also teeming with white Toyota pickup trucks full of heavily armed Hamas terrorists. It is the main artery that connected the border kibbutzim, small villages and the Nova Music Festival. For weeks, that road was littered with burned out hulks of cars, corpses and body parts.

Every time I drive that route, I see them. Masked and with green headbands. Screaming “Allahu akbar!” and shooting wildly.

The orchards are overgrown and untended. Security everywhere is tightened.

Yet today, as I write this, I expect to go swimming. And buy some groceries. And do the other things I have planned. This is what everyone does: carry on until they cannot.

For 10 months now, we have been living on a knife edge that seems to sharpen with each passing day. But there is no other way than to persevere.

National Post

Vivian Bercovici is a former Canadian ambassador to Israel and the founder of the State of Tel Aviv.