Love of the Skies

What is it that we pilots do in this world? That is the question. Over the course of an average airline pilot’s career, we circle the globe several hundred times and are privileged to witness sunsets and sunrises in different places and at different times – sometimes on the very same day. In a single week, we pass through winter and summer weather systems, landing in sweltering heat after taking off from snow-covered runways on the other side of the world. The machines entrusted to us are nothing short of extraordinary: immense and powerful. We operate them with care and respect, as though an emotional bond existed between human beings and machines. That bond is evident when departing on a heavily laden flight or performing an especially challenging landing and any one of our working days can be precisely that demanding.

But what do we actually do in this world? We provide a service to the people who live in it, whether by ensuring that their cargo reaches its destination or by carrying the passengers themselves, seated in their hundreds in the cabin for hours at a time. They entrust their lives to us aboard a vehicle that cannot stop even for a moment, flying through an environment where there is no oxygen to breathe and where it is too cold to survive without knowing a single one of us. And yet, for so many years, this has appeared entirely normal and routine. Aviation may not be the world’s oldest profession, but it is surely one of its most fascinating.

There are many moments during a flight when a profound thought crosses your mind or a significant question arises – whether while looking down at the Alps and their vast expanses of snow, the deserts of Africa, or the ocean that eventually meets the eastern coastline of America. These are moments of inner stillness and reflection on the world in which we live: how wondrous and diverse it is, how much potential it holds alongside its disputes and problems; how much beauty lies spread across it, and how short the distance is between one scene and the next, between different landscapes – and also between calm and storm, serenity and conflict, the ability to live side by side and war, which can also be seen from the air.

On a single flight across Europe, one can appreciate that most of the continent’s land is still devoted to agriculture. On another flight, over South America, one can understand the importance of trees and rainforests to the oxygen we breathe. During a single crossing of Saudi Arabia, one can marvel at a female air traffic controller managing hundreds of aircraft in the airspace – when it was only in recent years that she was granted the right to obtain a driving licence on the ground.

For those who may not know, there is one emergency frequency in the skies, and it is always open, even between aircraft belonging to countries that do not speak to one another. It happens, it will happen, and it has happened. The world in the air is larger and more inclusive than those below might imagine.

Personally, whenever I look out from the cockpit, I too find myself wondering about my role in the world and what we are actually doing here, beyond the aviation work that I love as deeply as you do. My answer lies in the words that follow: I am leaving the cockpit after twenty years of extraordinary and challenging flights and thousands of legs around the world. I am entering public life full-time and joining Israeli politics.

It is the same political arena alongside which, in recent years, we have worked to advance Israeli aviation, promote the Aviation Law and participate in dozens of Knesset committee meetings concerning our profession. Few people leaving the cockpit choose to enter that arena. I, however, am about to embark on a new journey – one that will undoubtedly be fascinating and no less challenging.

Pilots of Israel, dear readers: even after the smoothest and gentlest landing, you never forget where you took off from. You are my home airfield, and I am now departing on a new and very different kind of flight. Aviation will remain my base, and you will remain my supportive family.

After eight years, I am proud to pass the baton to my colleague, Captain Hagai Mayer. To you, dear members of the Pilots Association and readers of this magazine, I have only words of gratitude – for reading, for taking an interest, and for your support and encouragement.

Aviation, in Israel and around the world, is not made up solely of pilots. It is a human fabric, an aerial mosaic unlike any other. What connects with its many different parts is a shared love of the skies and the endless fascination they continue to inspire.

A word about the platform on which you are reading these thoughts: the Israeli Pilots Association’s magazine is a unique and successful undertaking. It is written in Hebrew for all of Israel’s pilots, aviation enthusiasts and the wider public. On special occasions, it is also translated into English and distributed internationally.

Some of the finest writers, editors, photographers and production professionals work tirelessly to create it. I would like to take this opportunity to honor them and express my profound appreciation—especially to Aharon Lapidot, the legendary aviation editor and the Pilots Association’s aviation journalist.

Please carry on the tradition of our aviation magazine. Write and read it, distribute it and open it to new horizons. It will be there for you for many years to come.

With warm regards and deep appreciation,

Captain Meidan Bar

Former Chairman of the Israeli Pilots Association