Some positions are relatively easy to fill in times of calm and routine. Others test the person holding them precisely when everything once taken for granted is collapsing around him. Almost from the outset, Captain Meidan Barr’s seven-year tenure as Chairman of the Israeli Pilots Association belonged firmly to the latter category.
I first met Lt. Col. (Res.) Meidan Barr many years ago. What began as a professional relationship gradually developed into a personal friendship, through which I came to know a hardworking, intelligent, focused and creative man—and, above all, someone with a profound understanding of responsibility. Now, as he steps down as Chairman of the Association and sets out on a new path in the political arena, this seems an appropriate moment to say a few words about the man, and about the journey he has made.
Barr took charge of an important professional association, but over the years his role became about much more than representing the interests of a professional body. The Israeli Pilots Association, founded in 1976 and affiliated with the International Federation of Air Line Pilots’ Associations, IFALPA, represents a relatively small professional community, yet one of exceptional importance to a country that can, for all practical purposes, be reached from abroad only by air. Israel is, in this respect, an island nation.
Then came COVID-19.
Few industries were hit by the pandemic as severely as aviation. Aircraft were grounded, borders and airspace closed, thousands of employees were sent home, and airlines found themselves fighting for their very survival. In such circumstances, one could reasonably have expected the head of a pilots’ association to focus exclusively—and justifiably—on protecting the livelihoods and rights of its members. Barr chose to take a broader view.
At the height of the crisis, he appeared before the Knesset and warned that Israel needed planning and certainty in aviation policy. In February 2021, when Ben Gurion Airport was effectively closed, he told the Knesset Economic Affairs Committee that aviation was one of the foundations of Israel’s independence and that its potential extended across the economic, technological and tourism sectors. This was more than a slogan. It reflected a philosophy that would guide him throughout the years that followed.
The pandemic eventually receded, at least in its deadliest form. Then came the war—and demonstrated just how prescient that view had been.
Since October 7, Israel has repeatedly discovered what happens when foreign airlines suspend their services to the country. At one stage, of the more than 140 airlines that had served Ben Gurion Airport before the war, only a handful remained—most notably the Israeli carriers. Barr wrote at the time that “Israeli aviation is a strategic asset.” Anyone who followed events at Ben Gurion Airport during the war years understands that this ceased long ago to be merely the assertion of an association chairman seeking to protect his members. It is a reality with direct implications for national security, the economy, and Israel’s ability to remain connected to the world in times of emergency.
To my mind, this was one of the defining characteristics of Meidan’s tenure. He knew how to be a determined chairman of a professional association, but he resisted allowing the interests of the profession to become the only consideration. He consistently advanced the principle that Israel’s pilots and its aviation sector ultimately exist to serve the State of Israel—in civilian life and in military service—and that when professional and national interests converge, one must be capable of seeing the larger picture.
Even as his tenure drew to a close, he continued to deliver the same message. During a Knesset discussion in May this year, he warned that without fundamental reform of Israel’s aviation infrastructure, the country would not be prepared for the next crisis. He called for long-term regulation of state responsibilities and aviation infrastructure. “We will continue performing miracles instead of managing policy,” he warned.
That sentence encapsulates much of what he sought to accomplish during his seven years in office: to move Israeli aviation away from a culture of improvisation and survival and toward a coherent, long-term national aviation policy.
But Meidan Barr is more than the Chairman of the Pilots Association.
He comes from Israel’s rural cooperative tradition, a moshavnik from Havatzelet HaSharon who grew up in the Hefer Valley. He served for many years in the Israeli Air Force as a helicopter pilot, flew numerous operational missions and attained the rank of lieutenant colonel. Even after reaching the age limit for operational flying, he did not part ways with the Air Force and continues to serve in the reserves as a flight instructor at the IAF Flight Academy. In civilian life, he is an EL AL captain, a qualified attorney, and holds academic degrees in political science and education.
Flying—and military flying in particular—instills habits that tend to remain with a person long after leaving the cockpit: teamwork, mission focus, decision-making and, perhaps above all, debriefing. The purpose is not to determine who is to blame, but to understand what happened, why it happened, and what should be done differently next time. For Meidan, the culture of debriefing is more than a professional technique; it is almost a way of life.
He is sociable by nature and a genuine team player, with an exceptional ability to connect with people. Over the years, I have watched him speak with the same natural ease to a young pilot, a senior commander, a government minister, a member of the Knesset or a journalist. My mother, for example, absolutely adores him—and so does the rest of my family.
He knows both the Israeli and international media well, and during the war years became a familiar presence in television studios—as a commentator, as a professional, and as someone capable of explaining a highly complex world to the public in clear and accessible language.
Behind that public presence, however, there is another side to him, one that is rarely captured by cameras. Over the years he has devoted considerable time to volunteer work and activities with young people, particularly in the fields of aviation, leadership and preparation for military service. He is an active volunteer with the Traffic Police, and during the war he also found time to visit and spend time with members of the local emergency response teams in Kiryat Shmona. As I have come to understand it, for Meidan public service does not begin when a camera is switched on, nor does it end when the camera is switched off.
He is now moving into an arena where the cameras are almost never switched off.
On July 27, Meidan Barr announced that he was joining Yisrael Beiteinu, led by Avigdor Liberman, effectively marking the end of his seven years at the helm of the Israeli Pilots Association. I have no intention of turning this farewell column into a political endorsement. Meidan is now entering a different arena, one in which his views and decisions will be subject to public scrutiny—as they should be for anyone who chooses a career in politics.
But I am pleased that he has decided to enter public life.
Israeli politics needs people who arrive after having already accomplished something in their lives—people who have managed, commanded, borne responsibility, weathered crises, made mistakes, debriefed them, corrected course and carried on. It also needs people who understand the difference between leadership and performance, between a slogan and a plan of action, and between “I” and “we.”
Meidan Barr enters politics with a substantial record of achievement across a range of fields, and above all with an intimate understanding of a concept that has become almost worn through overuse in Israel: service.
The world of aviation teaches a simple lesson. Even the most experienced captain does not fly an aircraft alone. There are crew members alongside him and entire systems supporting him, and before departure everyone must know the destination, the route, and what to do when something goes wrong.
I hope Meidan takes that lesson with him into politics.
May he remain a team player even when political instincts tempt him to become a solo act; may he continue to debrief and examine events even when assigning blame would be easier; may he retain his sense of statesmanship even when statesmanship is unfashionable; and may he remain resolute without ever losing the ability to listen.
Dear Meidan: You are cleared for takeoff.