When Oren Nahari published what would become his final book, The Great Battles That Changed History, co-written with Yoav Limor, he revealed that the original manuscript contained 50 battles. But the publisher was unequivocal.
“Who is going to read a 400-page book?” they asked him. Nahari was forced to decide which 30 battles would make it into the final book.
That story captures Oren Nahari perfectly. Whenever he began telling you about an event, the depth of his knowledge, the details he knew, and the connections he drew would always leave you with your jaw hanging open. “Where does he get all this knowledge?”
Nahari always had a book in his hand, was a man of facts, details, and stories
The answer would always come between broadcasts, as Oren waited to go on air for a report or commentary: Oren Nahari always had a book in his hand. And he didn’t just carry it – he read it. He read very quickly.
But Oren was not merely a man of facts and details. He was a storyteller.
Whenever the earth shook somewhere in the world, a rebellion erupted, an economic crisis broke out, or any other event occurred – even one that might seem marginal – Oren could focus not only on the question, “Are there Israelis there, and if so, how were they affected?” He would first explain why the event mattered to us even if there were no Israelis there at all.
The smallest events can shape the world, and Nahari knew how to explain why
Because that is the reality of our interconnected world: the flutter of a butterfly’s wings, even the smallest event, can influence history and shape the world – even when there are no Israeli citizens or Jews involved. The wisdom lies in knowing how to explain why.
When he launched the revolution that was the show Ro’im Olam (Seeing the World) in 1988, together with David Witztum, Yaakov Ahimeir, and many other talented journalists, he brought the world to Israeli viewers.
Only recently, he began an extraordinary project on Kan Reshet Bet, a historical radio program called A Year in an Hour, exploring the history of the 20th century. And, as was so often the case with Oren, sometimes a single year required much more than an hour to explain – sometimes even three. Sadly, he never had the chance to complete the project, which ended in 1961.
And Oren had one more remarkable quality: he was a breeding ground for journalists.
When I joined the foreign desk of Israel’s Channel 1 in 2009, I discovered a true journalistic incubator. Oren had an extraordinary ability to teach, but above all, to convey one fundamental message: the most important thing is knowing how to tell a story. There is an audience for it.
That was the message with which he said goodbye to his radio listeners last Saturday:
“Keep watching, keep listening, keep asking questions, never take things for granted, and keep being curious.”