Between Truth and Reputation: Our Israeli Legal Story
When you move to a new country, you expect challenges — language, culture, endless paperwork.
What you don’t expect is waking up one day to find your name dragged through the mud on social media.
My wife and I came to Israel from St. Petersburg seven years ago. She’s Jewish; I’m not.
We thought that combination would make things easier here. In some ways, it did.
But in others, it made us the perfect target for gossip — “mixed marriage,” “foreigners,” “probably up to something.”
What followed was one of the most stressful, absurd, and strangely enlightening experiences of our lives — and it ended with a place called katsmanlaw.co.il
When a Rumor Turns into a Problem
It started small: a post in a local community chat in Haifa accusing us of “faking documents” for my work visa.
At first, we laughed.
Then our neighbors stopped saying hello.
Then the school called about “concerns” regarding our son’s residency paperwork.
That’s when it stopped being funny.
I remember sitting in the kitchen, laptop open, my wife scrolling through messages with shaking hands.
Dozens of comments. Some outright hateful.
One said, “These Russians come here and think they can trick the system.”
It’s a strange thing — how quickly online words start feeling like real attacks.
Finding Someone Who Took It Seriously
I didn’t know you could sue someone in Israel for defamation until I found katsmanlaw.co.il/zashhita-chesti-i-dostoinstva
.
The page was simple, in Russian, but what caught my eye was the tone — not angry, just confident.
When we called, they didn’t ask for drama; they asked for evidence.
Screenshots, messages, contact info.
Within 24 hours, we had a legal plan.
Ariel Katsman and his team didn’t promise revenge.
They promised fairness.
And that was exactly what we needed.
“In Israel,” Ariel said, “you can’t control what people say. But you can make sure lies cost them.”
It was the first time in months I slept peacefully.
The Fight for Dignity
Defamation cases in Israel move slowly, but they move.
We gathered evidence, filed an official claim, and waited.
I’ll never forget that first court session.
The woman who started the rumor — a distant acquaintance from our neighborhood — looked terrified.
Her lawyer tried to argue that “it was just an opinion.”
Ariel smiled and said,
“Opinions don’t destroy families. Lies do.”
The judge nodded.
That’s when I realized — this wasn’t just about us anymore.
It was about every immigrant who’s been whispered about behind their back.
Every family that’s been told, “You don’t really belong here.”
Between Anger and Humor
There were moments I almost lost my temper.
Like when the defendant claimed she “didn’t know” what she was writing was public.
Or when another witness said, “It was just a comment, why so serious?”
Ariel had this calm, ironic wisdom about him.
During one break, he looked at me and said:
“Welcome to Israeli democracy. Everyone has freedom of speech — until you make them read what they said aloud in court.”
We both laughed. It helped.
When Justice Finally Spoke
The ruling came on a Thursday afternoon.
We won.
The court recognized the damage, ordered a public apology, and even a modest compensation — but to us, it wasn’t about money.
It was about having our names back.
My wife framed the ruling and hung it next to our family photos.
“Now,” she said, “this is our Israeli certificate of honor.”
We decided to leave a thank-you note on the firm’s reviews page
.
It wasn’t long or poetic.
Just a few lines:
“They didn’t just defend our dignity — they reminded us that truth matters here.”
What We Learned Along the Way
Israel can be chaotic.
People talk too much, argue too fast, and post before they think.
But beneath all that noise, there’s a solid core — law, justice, and decency.
And if you ever find yourself lost in the chaos, start where we did — with katsmanlaw.co.il
.
Yes, the website’s in Russian.
But for families like ours, that’s a comfort, not a barrier.
It speaks the language of people who came here to live honestly, who just needed someone to stand up for them when things got ugly.
We didn’t just win a lawsuit.
We won back our peace.
And sometimes, that’s the most valuable victory there is.