TZLIL BERKO
WRITER, RESEARCHER, AND ENTREPRENEUR
Tzlil Berko is an Israeli writer and entrepreneur whose work spans creative writing, research, and screen development. Her pioneering research in the PhD track at Reichman University focuses on terrorism in the Metaverse, where she examines the operational use of what she terms "weaponized avatars": AI-powered avatars expected to be deployed by terrorist organizations for personalized radicalization, psychological manipulation, hyper-persuasion, and recruitment within immersive virtual environments. Her work explores how immersive 3D and 4D virtual reality technologies, through intelligent avatars as a dominant Metaverse application, serve as a superior method of influence in the context of terrorism, surpassing the capabilities of traditional 2D social media platforms.
In the context of malevolent creativity, she argues that anticipating the next frontier of radicalization and recruitment means examining not only what immersive technologies are, but how Islamist jihadist terrorist organizations can most effectively weaponize them and what such advanced systems may become in hostile hands. Accordingly, in her work, Tzlil adopts an offensive cyber‑strategic approach rather than a merely defensive one.
Tzlil's professional experience includes work in the private security sector, with a focus on tactical gear and simulation technologies across both high and low tech sectors.
She is currently a fellow at the Investigative Project on Terrorism (IPT). Her articles on counter-terrorism and strategic innovation have appeared on IPT and in various international publications, and she also writes on her Substack page.
Represented by The Blair Partnership across literary and broadcasting, Tzlil is co-developing a unique television series with her parents, inspired by their extraordinary family story:
https://www.theblairpartnership.com/clients/the-berko-family
Tzlil is currently working on her first book and has, so far, resisted every attempt, diplomatic or otherwise, to reveal what it’s about. For now, it remains classified; after all, mystery is in her DNA.
The Lesson God Taught Me on Yom Kippur
TZLIL BERKO
I have always felt the existence of God in a powerful and intuitive way. Call me a hippie or an incurable mystic, I couldn’t care less. I feel God in my bloodstream. Yet in the story I’m about to share, I felt not merely a spark of His presence, but something far greater. A pulsing, living force. Something real.
It was the eve of Yom Kippur.(1) I was a teenage girl just starting high school. After the pre-fast meal, I went with my aunt to synagogue.(2) There is something almost magical about being there on Yom Kippur; I was once moved to discover that the cantor, blessed with the voice of a nightingale, was blind and sang the prayers from a Braille Torah. Incredible!
By the time we arrived, the synagogue was already packed. As the Yom Kippur prayers rose around me, my teenage gaze fixed on the elderly woman in front of me, with her light, roller-set blond hair and a faded sleeveless red blouse edged with bold embroidery. The fabric of the blouse reminded me of the way my beloved grandmother, Nehama Berko of blessed memory, a Holocaust survivor,(3) used to cover jars of homemade jam when I was a kid.
The lady was sitting with her back to me, and by the way she sat, I could tell she was dozing off, almost snoring.
Angrily, I thought, “What a disgrace! How dare she fall asleep in synagogue on the holiest day of the year?” And I sealed my verdict with all the self-righteous certainty of youth.
Then suddenly, from her deep slumber, her wrinkled hand slipped and fell to her side. On her arm was tattooed a number - the number. The number of loss, of torment, of brutal suffering; Its ink, more faded even than her red blouse. The number of the Holocaust.
Immediately, a lightning bolt surged through me. A burning flash that pierced the very core of my being, the most exposed and vulnerable place within. Everything in me was simultaneously darkened and illuminated. A sensation I had never known before. It felt as though, at that very moment, those same digits engraved on her flesh had been tattooed from above, directly onto my heart. Each character a divine reminder never to rush to judgment with the sharp blade of impulsive criticism.
Hishtadlut (השתדלות), loosely translated as, ‘Where is your sincere effort to be good?’ was the question I was asked that day. And I had no answer.(4)
God had made one thing unmistakably clear: I was the one asleep, not her. I was the one who needed to wake up and find compassion within my soul; God was there, woven into that moment, to remind me how little we truly know of the burdens others carry, just as they can never see the battles we conceal behind our own fortified walls. Yes, I felt Him speaking directly to me. “Remember,” He said, “only rarely does a hand slip just enough to reveal to us the number.”
Footnotes:
1) Yom Kippur, known in English as the “Day of Atonement,” is the holiest and most solemn day of the year in Judaism. Its central theme is repentance, seeking forgiveness for sins, and purifying oneself spiritually for the year ahead. It falls on the 10th day of the lunar month of Tishrei, capping off the "Ten Days of Repentance" that begin with the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah. According to Jewish tradition, one's fate for the upcoming year is sealed on this day.
2) Fasting on Yom Kippur, the holiest and most solemn day of the year in Judaism, is a biblical commandment to “afflict your soul.” It spans a 25-hour period of complete abstinence from all food and drink. The fasting period begins just before sunset on the eve of Yom Kippur and ends after nightfall the following evening. It is intended to shift focus away from physical desires and toward spiritual reflection, repentance, and moral renewal.
3) The Holocaust (1933–1945) was the systematic extermination of more than six million Jews by Nazi Germany and its collaborators.
4) Hishtadlut (השתדלות) is a Hebrew term with no precise English equivalent. While it may be loosely translated as “spiritual effort to be good,” the concept refers more broadly to the sincere, ongoing effort God expects of us to grow, improve, and become better human beings. In Jewish thought, hishtadlut emphasizes not perfection, but the responsibility to continually strive toward moral and spiritual refinement.