Salman Habaka was in 7th grade when he came home from school one day crying because he got a 99 on his Hebrew exam instead of a perfect grade as he was used to. "That's it, I don't have a dad anymore because he unfairly took off a point on my test," he told his mother.
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"He was competitive, especially with two other girls in the class, who would often check his tests to make sure his father didn't miss a mistake," Habaka's mother, Mohaveb, said, and, for a moment, one could see how the laughter settle in her beautiful eyes.
Video: Habaka describing the Oct. 7 attack in Be'eri before being killed in Gaza/ Credit: IDF Spokesperson's Unit
This laughter that settled strongly in the eyes of her Salman, the eldest of four sons and two daughters, born to her and Imad, who, until a year ago, worked as a Hebrew teacher and insisted on teaching his children. He swore he did not increase or decrease their grades, but treated them the same way he treated all his students. Imad simply wanted to make sure his children got the best education possible.
The green of the view and the green of the flag of the Maccabi Haifa that flies on the balcony of the house in the northern Druze village of Yanuh-Jat, so that everyone knew that there lived an ardent fan of the soccer team. One can also see Lebanon from here, Rosh HaNikra, and the shore of Nahariya. Acre, where Salman studied at a naval officers school, is hidden behind the hills.
The family's living room is full of items brought by those who came to offer comfort after Salman was killed in battle: photographs, paintings, and candles with the portrait of the revered commander, who, at the age of 31, was promoted to the rank of lieutenant colonel, commander of the 188th Armored Brigade's 53rd Battalion, 33 years old at the eritime of his death, who from a young age showed extraordinary abilities.
Here and there one can also see childhood photos of Salman, as well as with his siblings and at family occasions. In one photo, Salman is seen with his wife, Arin, whom he married four years earlier, holding Imad, his 2-year-old son whom they named after the grandfather, as is the Druze tradition. When little Imad was born, Salman was doing his master's degree in Oriental studies and would come home almost every evening. Later came the promotion and he would only come home once every two weeks. Then came the war and Salman would never return.
In the media and at the funeral the memory of Salman was wrapped in words of praise and heroism.
"How our heroes have fallen," MK Gideon Sa'ar, a representative of the government at the funeral, said. "I came to pay my respects to one of the great heroes of the Israel Defense Forces, of the State of Israel - a brave military commander who thinks differently and outside the box. Many Israeli citizens owe their lives to Salman Habaka. Even in the battle in which he fell, Salman showed bravery. He fell in a complex battle against dozens of terrorists. In the battle in which he fell, he again showed personal bravery.
"Our enemy has joined forces against us. But Israel will also emerge from this campaign with the upper hand, thanks to our soldiers and commanders, thanks to our unity. The IDF has many achievements, but unfortunately, we are also paying a heavy price in loss of life. Lt. Col. Salman Habaka, I salute you."
Imad said, "Salman was always the first. It was always 'follow me.' You can't expect your subordinates to exhibit heroism unless you yourself are a hero. To serve as an example. He understood that and always acted that way."
Q: Did Salman show such leadership as a child?
"He was always a leader. Very pleasant, but the one who leads others. When people came to mourn with us, there was a group of students who studied with him at the naval officers school in Acre, and they couldn't stop talking about him.
"That visit moved me the most. They remembered him in great detail, how he helped everyone with their homework without asking for anything in return, but just because he could. We were also visited by the parents of a soldier who got into debt due to gambling and they shared how Salman helped him get out of that mud. We were told he would go around the base and talk to soldiers, and this is 400 fighters we are talking about. He was interested in each one and would always be there for them if there were any problems. A true commander."
I ask Mohaveb whether she ever tried to dissuade Salman from a military career and chose a safer path.
"Not at all," she answers, almost surprised by my question. "We have no choice but to defend our homeland. Who will protect us? Who will give us life if not the soldiers?!" Mohaveb says she believes God is in charge and that it didn't matter whether Salman was in Gaza or running an errand at the time. That was his day, his destiny, and nothing could change it.
When asked whether the Druze belief in reincarnation offers some kind of comfort, Imad answers, "By and large, yes."
"You are born again, and a family is waiting for Salman now and they are happy to have a son. We just have to pray that this is a good family that is affectionate and knows how to raise a child." Interestingly, Imad adds, the Druze believe that only those who fell in battle remember fragments of their previous life after reincarnation.
The funeral, the likes of which the village had never seen, was led by the qadi (spiritual leader) of the Druze in Israel, Shaykh Mowafaq Tarif, who eulogized the celebrated commander and said, among other things, that the leaders of Israel "must today bow their heads before Salman, before his friends and before the thousands of Druze soldiers, who were called up to fight the war. They must wake up from the coma, apologize to the congregation, and bring about a real, substantial, and tangible change. We are partners not only in war but also in times of peace that we all wish for."
According to Imad, the connection between the state and the Druze community is strong despite the challenges, such as the so-called Kaminitz Law that eases the state's path toward destroying illegal buildings, despite the difficulty of obtaining building permits in Arab towns.
"I want Salman to be remembered as a hero of Israel, and it doesn't matter if he is Muslim, Druze, Jewish, or Christian," he says.
On Oct. 7, when Hamas attacked the Israeli towns near the Gaza border, Salman was at home. The family originally planned to go to the Golan Heights to celebrate Mohaveb's birthday, but then Salman had to bid farewell and join the fight. For four days he did not leave Be'eri until the fighting was over.
Back home, the family was worried sick as for some time, there was no concrete news but only rumors about the fighting. When Salman finally called, he apologized for not contacting his mother on Oct. 7 to wish her a happy birthday. And Mohaveb, who had a feeling from the very beginning that something bad was going to happen, said she did not want birthday wishes, but only for Salman to be back home.
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Mohaveb expressed her love through cooking, and to Salman's shock, even visited him on the base.
"Why did you come, Mom, it's dangerous," Salman said, to which Mohaveb replied, "Because I missed you. I wanted to see you."
Since Nov. 2, however, Mohaveb hardly enters the kitchen.
"My hands have no desire to prepare anything that Salman loved to eat. He wasn't just my son, he was my best friend. I would call and consult him about everything and he always had an answer. If not immediately, then a few minutes later. He felt my worry. He told me not to worry, but I knew he would be the first to run to battle."
