When thinking of ZAKA, the Hebrew acronym for Disaster Victim Identification, haunting images of Israeli volunteer medics rushing to domestic and war-torn nations immediately spring to mind. Even while confronting the world’s worst disasters, both at home and abroad, ZAKA’s compassionate heroism shines through while also affirming the best of humanity. ZAKA is always there to also assist non-Jewish victims when requested through their ambulance and rescue units.

Author: Jared Feldschreiber

Over the past fifteen years, ZAKA volunteers, while still mostly composed of ultra-Orthodox Jews, include some members of the Muslim, Druze, and Bedouin populations in Israel. Their mission, no matter the peril, is to save lives while also cleaning up the remains of the deceased, so a proper and righteous burial can be possible.

“ZAKA does deeply sacred and incredibly difficult work,” Yifat Godiner, a strategic adviser in the fields of technology, cybersecurity, and AI based in Central Israel, tells me. “As an Israeli, I see them as a symbol of compassion, resilience, and unwavering dedication, often showing up in the most tragic and painful moments. They bring dignity and humanity where it’s needed most, [as] their work is not only vital but also widely appreciated across all parts of society.” 

Hamas’ vile multi-pronged terror assault on October 7, 2023, changed all fabrics of Israeli society and drastically tested its very being, its sense of security, as well as its collective existential and psychological ethos. 

Photo credit: Jacob Madar

Vered Atzmon Meshulam, a 46-year-old medical psychologist born and raised in Bat Yam and a mom of three daughters, has felt and lived this crisis head-on. She is the founder of the “Emotional Loss to Trauma” association within the Resilience Division of ZAKA. Atzmon Meshulam’s sense of purpose was drastically affected and re-shaped by that awful day, which saw the worst massacre of Jews since the Holocaust. 

Atzmon Meshulam knew in short order that Israel had reached its pivotal crossroads. 

“I realized that after five days, bodies were executed at point-blank,” she explained to Israeli TV. “I asked myself if it was by accident that I’m seeing most of the bodies like that or if most of the bodies [were killed in the most heinous of ways].” Upon approaching an IDF commander at a military base, she soon learned that ninety percent of the victims [of the October 7 assault] were, indeed, executed at point-blank. “In that moment, it was the worst darkness ever. I suddenly realized what [was happening]. We’re in a situation that we, in this generation, have never felt or dealt with. I understood that we are in a new generation.” 

ZAKA’s Resilience Division operates trauma-processing circles not only for volunteers but also for their families. “We built a cutting-edge national system combining trauma-informed therapy, Jewish spiritual tools, and community-based healing,” Atzmon Meshulam told a large group of Israeli supporters during The Jerusalem Post Conference in early June. “It is a true home for recovery, renewal, and sacred strength. It’s driven by a philosophy of healing resilience, a resilience that grows not despite the pain, but through it.”

In her three decades of studying and working in medical psychology, Atzmon Meshulam has graciously shared with me all aspects of her career. The main thrust was that, despite her rise within the high echelon of her field, there was nothing that prepared her for the horrors of October 7 and its aftermath.

“I accompanied families in their moments of horror. There, for the first time, I felt a tangible divine presence,” she tells me. “By volunteering at the Shura base—in the city of Ramla within the Central District of Israel—I accompanied families identifying bodies of their loved ones—hundreds of them, tortured, mutilated. In those unbearable hours, I saw not only horror but also [a type of callous] memory. My grandfather’s family faces were there. I felt their absence again—and this time, I responded.”

Photo credit: Jacob Madar

Vered’s grandfather Aharon survived the Holocaust as he fled Thessaloniki, Greece, before the Nazis arrived.

“From a young age, I was drawn to two worlds—the emotional and the expressive,” she continues. “At age 14, I read Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning, and it changed my life.” Frankl’s book was identifiable to her own lineage.

“My identity as a third-generation descendant of Holocaust survivors is a core part of who I am,” she adds. “No one believed my grandfather Aharon when he begged the family to escape, and he fled alone. His parents, three brothers, and 12-year-old sister Rosa were murdered. I was named after both him and my grandmother, Rosa. He came to Israel, married, and never spoke of the trauma again—but I carried this with me always; not as a weight, but as a responsibility.”

Vered Atzmon Meshulam shares that artists like American singer-songwriters like Bob Dylan and Tom Petty and Israeli musicians like Shlomo Artzi serve as a form of therapy. But it is within her painting work that speaks greatest and has helped serve as an antidote to reawaken her spiritual core. 

“After the war began, I painted a man with angel wings with the words ‘Shema Yisrael’ [‘Hear, O Israel’],” she says. “Days later, I realized I had seen that tattoo on one of the Nova festival victims whose family I had helped during identification. That moment revealed to me the depth of the subconscious and the lingering resonance of trauma.” 

Of the approximately 1200 Israelis killed on October 7, 2023, it has been reported that 364 were murdered at the Tribe of Nova Festival. 

Atzmon Meshulam tells me that early on in her career she was “invited by the Ministry of Health to serve as the national presenter for public anxiety awareness. I became a regular voice on Israeli media [on the subject] of trauma and resilience. In parallel, I founded Mashiv HaRuach, a trauma-processing initiative for first responders.”

Within months, she was invited to lead a workshop for ZAKA volunteers. 

“They connected deeply with the tools I had developed, which involved an integration of psychological methods [coupled] with Jewish spiritual practices,” she says. “Shortly after, I was asked to establish and head ZAKA’s first-ever Resilience Department in its 30-year history. That became my mission. I now work to support those who handle death firsthand while building national and community resilience rooted in empathy, values, and unity.”

Since the war began, “I’ve accompanied over 1,000 first responders and developed a therapeutic model called ‘Lens of the Spirit.’ This [approach] integrates Jewish heritage with universal trauma tools. I teach it in professional settings. It’s now being published. I’ve also created and led a live panel series called ‘Heroes Against Their Will,’ which has helped process collective trauma [while building] bridges between communities,” she adds.

Photo credit: Vered Atzmon Meshulam

The Resilience Division continues to grow and has created an “internal cultural change.” “This [assists] with emotional care, implementing trauma-informed protocols, and training their teams in spiritual-psychological resilience. Today, the department is expanding nationally, with workshops, retreats, and a research initiative to study the unique spiritual resilience of 4,000 ZAKA religious volunteers.” 

In recent days, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu paid an unscheduled visit to ZAKA’s headquarters in Jerusalem. He profusely thanked the 8,000-person-strong organization. It has served on the frontlines as first responders to help police and Home Front Command collect forensic evidence and care for the casualties in Beersheba, Tel Aviv, and near the Gaza border as a result of the Iranian strikes hitting these cities.

“You provide so much resilience in the knowledge that everything possible is being done for life and for those who are no longer with us,” Netanyahu reminded them, as reported by The Jerusalem Post. 

Vered was among those who met and shook hands with the prime minister. 

“I was surprised that he heard about me building and managing [my new division]. The meeting was incredibly powerful, and I was surprised that he stayed as we had a conversation. For a moment, I could not believe I was in a position where I was speaking and shaking heads with the Prime Minister of Israel,” she elatedly tells me. 

“Since October 7, I have not stopped as I am walking the path of my life’s mission—to respond through healing, to build frameworks, and to bring forward new tools—for Israel and for the Jewish people. [This, too, is] for the world. This mission, which I founded, is grounded in the belief that healing begins by awakening the sacred strength within us all,” underscores Atzmon Meshulam. 

“My role at ZAKA is one expression of the broader work I now do: helping Jewish systems recover not just function—but spirit and soul. In every Jewish story, there is an ember of eternity. If we learn to tend that fire—even through our pain—it can illuminate the path for others,” she concludes.

Cover photo credit: ZAKA

Jared Feldschreiber is a freelance reporter and contributor to Central European Affairs Magazine. He is based in New York, and often chronicles literary figures, filmmakers, and dissidents in nascent democracies. Reckless Abandon, his novella, is available worldwide.
Twitter: @jmfeldschreiber
Photo credit: Ilan Sherman