Missiles shatters Cancer Labs in Weizmann Institute

By Nibedita Speaks, a science communicator and former resident of Rehovot reporting on a personal loss to global education and research

When I first walked the citrus-scented paths of the Weizmann Institute of Science in Rehovot, Israel, I felt like I had entered a living manuscript of human progress. Now, writing this piece from afar, I feel a hollow echo—because some of those same paths were hit by Iranian ballistic missiles just days ago.

On that quiet Sunday morning, as missiles rained down across parts of Israel, one of the world’s premier centers for basic scientific research—Weizmann—was struck directly. No casualties were reported, but the damage to global knowledge, education, and future discovery is nothing short of devastating.

“Everything is limited. We’re working from shelter at home. So far, everyone is unharmed and safe,” said Ingrid Leher, head of the International Office at the Weizmann Institute of Science, in a brief but emotional phone call.

Her voice carried both relief and restraint — relief that no lives had been lost, and restraint because she knew the true damage was only beginning to unfold.

The Weizmann Institute has never been just a research center. It’s a birthplace of breakthroughs:

Ada Yonath’s ribosome research led to antibiotics used worldwide.

Zelig Eshhar developed CAR-T cell therapy, revolutionizing cancer treatment.

Jacob Hanna’s synthetic embryos are changing fertility and regenerative medicine.

Lucio Frydman reimagined MRI technology, making diagnosis more precise.

In the 1950s, Weizmann scientists built one of the first computers—WEIZAC—paving the way for Israel’s tech innovation.

Drugs like Copaxone, Rebif, and Erbitux, which treat multiple sclerosis and cancer, all began in Weizmann’s labs.

Hundreds of scientists have lost labs, equipment, and specimens

$100 Million Lost, But More Than Money

The lab building hit at Weizmann is estimated at $50 million to $100 million, inclusive of infrastructure and cutting-edge scientific equipment. But everyone agrees: the actual loss cannot be quantified in terms of money.

Research programs in their entirety — particularly in life sciences, cancer immunology, and environmental science — have been handicapped. Some of the casualties:

• Prof. Eldad Tzahor's laboratory, researching regenerative medicine to condition hearts against subsequent trauma, was utterly lost.
• Dr. Leeat Yankielowicz-Keren's immuno-oncology lab, which had accrued rare tumor biopsies over five years from five countries, is now lost forever.

"You can rebuild a lab," one of the faculty said to an Israeli media house. "You can't rebuild years of teamwork, or redo samples from patients in five countries."

Researchers scrambled to rescue what they could — frozen samples, hard drives, notebook scribbles. But the harm runs deep. Not only physical, but emotional and intellectual.

Empty Campuses, Silent Labs

After the strikes, various Israeli universities have suspended on-campus activity. Research goes on remotely wherever it can, but advance in sensitive areas such as biochemistry, physics, and biomedical engineering has ground to a halt.

Prof. Daniel Haimovich, Ben-Gurion University President and Council of University Presidents Chairperson, expressed the deepening exasperation:

"No scientific endeavor is worth losing the life of a student or researcher. Campuses are deserted because now we know—we can be attacked at any moment. And Weizmann shows that missiles don't recognize day from night, nor researcher from soldier."

He stated, "When a lab and decades of its data are destroyed, we don't lose just knowledge. We lose what could have become the next cure, the next breakthrough."

Academic Institutions Become Strategic Targets

Iran's move to target Weizmann and Technion has vindicated everyone's worst fear: Israeli academic institutions are becoming strategic national assets.

These universities have long served as drivers of Israel's innovation — training generations of cybersecurity specialists, medical researchers, engineers, and defense technologists.

Others wonder: Does Iran prize Israeli science higher than our government does? 

That sour irony is not lost on many scholars, particularly in a politicized environment where Israel's Council for Higher Education comes under pressure to toe the governmental line, endangering scientific independence.

“We’re treated like enemies of the state,” one professor remarked, “even though our graduates build the tech that defends this country.”

A Future Rewritten, Not Erased

Despite the destruction, resilience pulses through Israel’s academic community. Displaced researchers have been offered lab space by colleagues. Digital backups are being secured. International collaborators are stepping in to assist.

As Ingrid Leher peacefully assured us from her home refuge, the Weizmann community is secure. But their science has suffered a setback from which it will take years to recover.

And yet, in typical Weizmann style, the message is clear:

This isn't the end. It's the start of the rebuild.