Why We Need Israel
Moses, the paradigm of Jewish leadership, is singled out for one characteristic: humility. Humility in leadership is vital because it helps a leader to always remember that leadership is not about them but about the honor, welfare, and flourishing of those being led. This is especially crucial in political leadership which, due to all the “politics'' involved, tends to pull leaders in the wrong direction — away from humility, away from maintaining focus on the ultimate purpose of their leadership: the greater good. As the Mishnah says in Pirkei Avot (2:3): “Beware of those in [positions of political] power, for they only bring a person close to them for their own needs.”
This is why a king must always carry a Torah, to remember what their purpose and goal is. Yet, in Jewish history, carrying a Torah does not seem to be enough of a fence to stop a king from being self-interested. What, then, does work to regulate the power of political leadership? An institution which provides a check on power. In the Tanach this was the prophet, and we see this especially in the cases of Saul and David. Saul sins by letting Agag the King of Amalek live and the prophet Samuel takes him to task, overriding him and putting another King, David, in his place. When King David sins, it is Natan the prophet who takes him to task. David desired Batsheva after seeing her bathing on a rooftop; he sent her husband to the front, and took her as his wife. Natan rebukes him and David comes to realize his sin. Ultimately, Natan says God pardoned David, but in theory, Natan would have had the power to depose the King like Samuel before him.
Israel has recently erupted in unprecedented protests over this question of power and its checks and in the eyes of both sides the future of Israel's democracy is in the balance. Power often corrupts, so the stakes are very high.
This past Sunday, I was at an all day event about Israel sponsored by the Jewish Federation for local Jewish leaders. Most of those in attendance were from the Reform and Conservative Jewish communities. Many of them, for whom issues of world justice, diversity, and kindness are the central spires of their Jewish lives, find the attempt by Israel's more parochial government to concentrate power and potentially marginalize the country's non-Jewish constituents anathema. They express the desire to, in the words of one participant I sat next to,“wash their hands of Israel”. They question whether Israel must be a central part of Jewish life, for indeed, Jews have survived millenia without having a country of their own.
I believe that though one can be a religious Jew in Brooklyn or Washington without the modern State of Israel, the existence of the state after 2,000 years of waiting is a messianic gift, one vital for the continued existence, safety, and flourishing of the Jewish people. Its very existence confers a new religious obligation upon us. The obligation of being a great nation on the world stage to, as God first put it to Abraham (Genesis 12) when he led him to the land, “Be a blessing to all the peoples of the world.”
During the conference I realized how siloed we are in the Modern Orthodox community, a section of the Jewish world in which support for Israel is expected, and to criticize it comes with negative repercussions. I think it is vital that we, as Orthodox Jews, become familiar with what the 80% of the non-Orthodox community is thinking about Israel, and to contemplate the best way to engage with their concerns. I think it unwise to stand by as a large portion of our people backs away from the modern State of Israel.
We come from very different points of view than they do, and just insisting we are right will not be productive. But make no mistake, it is upon our shoulders to not just support Israel but to address the real concerns of our Jewish brethren so they do not “wash their hands” of the most important positive Jewish phenomenon in millenia, the State of Israel.
What Makes Israelis Unique: Reflections on a Trip to Israel During the Hamas - Israel War
I spent the last week in Israel on a YU/RCA/Mizrachi trip for rabbis. Before I left, I was worried. I thought to myself, we are all feeling so much doom and anxiety and to fly to the heart of it will, no doubt, be deeply disturbing. But just the opposite was true. Instead of hopelessness and helplessness, Israelis spoke of optimism, joy and purpose, and a deep sense of unity and loyalty to fellow citizens in need.
For instance, we traveled to the South of Israel to Kfar Aza, which was devastated by the horrific attack. In extreme cruelty, the terrorists slaughtered dozens of neighbors. One section of the kibbutz, about 20 small houses, was reserved for young professionals. The terrorists killed all of them except one, a 23-year-old woman named Ireen. She and her boyfriend went to a safe room for protection from the sirens, and the terrorists, as was their MO, threw grenades into the safe room. Two exploded without harming them severely, but a third landed next to them. Ireen’s boyfriend threw himself on the grenade to save her life and she played dead until the terrorists left. She told us this story in the midst of the wreckage, standing next to her boyfriend’s mother. When I asked what their plans were, they said, “to return and to rebuild.” We were told by some that the name of the area which is now referred to as the “Gaza envelope” will be changed to “Tikumah” or “Rising up.”
What is it that gives the Jewish people in Israel this profound resilience? I will suggest a few things from my observations:
Family and Community
In Ofakim, a small city in the South which was attacked by 16 terrorists, we met with a woman named Michal. Her brother and his son had been among those who died defending the town. But her story was not only about destruction; mostly, it was about her upbringing as a child in a family of seven Moroccan children who grew up in a small house in Ofakim. She stressed that their door was always open, that generations lived near each other and neighbors were like family and still are. Her older neighbor told the story of her own family’s escape onto a roof where they hid for hours as a terrorist killed her son who did not get out the window in time, but, she said, of course we will return to our home. It is also the place of our good memories, of our Simchot (our joyous times).
And over and over, the same stories of giving, of family, of nation, of neighborhood. Compared to America’s epidemic of isolation and self-involvement, the contrast in Israel was stark. These values and this culture were there before this tragedy and I think it is a large part of what has not only kept them going, but has paradoxically enabled Israel to become even stronger and more unified.
National Unity
The stories of unity are ubiquitous. On our first day we visited a hi-tech office building in Tel Aviv, four floors of which had been donated by a tech company for operations being run by volunteers (what is called in Israel a “war room”). This one of over 1000 volunteers is solely focused on the 240 hostages and their families. Every march for them, sign and artwork in their honor, are all coordinated by volunteers in this “war room.” In addition, these volunteers tend to the needs of the hostages’ families. Rooms are set aside for several different kinds of therapy for the suffering families, and they are given clothing, food and whatever else they need.
The volunteerism cuts across all sectors of the society—religious, secular, Zionist, Charerdi, etc. There are “war rooms” of Charedim which have emerged to help resettle some of the hundreds of thousands of displaced Israelis from the South and the North. The hotels are filled with displaced families. In one we spoke with residents of Sderot who are living indefinitely in Jerusalem hotels with whole families in a room. The day we were there, a therapeutic theater company was voluntarily putting on a play for the children addressing the trauma they experienced on October 7th.
Dignity
The attention to individuals, to their needs, feelings, and their infinite value and honor was everywhere. At the Shura army base, the headquarters of the army rabbinate, we toured a facility which was constructed in case of military tragedy. What looked like a cross between a warehouse and hospital, this is the place where all those who die in the line of duty are taken. Built for a few dozen at a time, it had to accommodate hundreds on October 7th. The soldier/rabbis who work there spoke only of “kavod hamet,” the honor of the dead. As an enormous chevra kadisha, their goal is to determine, beyond a doubt and as fast as possible, the identity of the fallen so that families can be notified before they find out from some other source. This is done with fingerprints, DNA, CT scanners and dental records. But also, their goal is to honor the fallen, and to prepare the bodies for burial. The sense of meticulous “kavod hamet” was palpable. They stressed that all who fall defending the Jewish people, or die because they are Jews, “al kiddush hashem” are considered “kodesh hakodashim,” holy of holies. They are buried in their clothing according to Jewish law, because this sense of holiness permeates. The meticulous care that is taken of these holy individuals who are no longer alive is reminiscent, in my mind, of the care given to a baby or a Torah.
Spirituality
In another building on the Shura base, we met Rabbi Atlas, a 70-year-old IDF colonel who oversees the religious items needed by the troops. He said that every unit wants a Torah to take with them into the field and into battle for davening. Additionally, he showed us army green dri-fit tzitzit which they are producing by the tens of thousands because so many soldiers want tzitzit. I asked him why the secular soldiers want tzitzit and he replied, “In war, there are no secular.” Every soldier wants tzitzit. Additionally, mezuzot are written even for buildings in Gaza in which soldiers are temporarily encamped.
Meaning
One night we went to eat and talk to soldiers at a BBQ which was made for the base by Rav Rimon, the Rabbi of Elon Shevut and head of numerous organizations. In addition to writing books and being a Rabbi, he is spending his time bringing soldiers whatever they need, including close to 1000 winter coats which were needed right away before a unit went into Gaza. He spoke to the soldiers at the base and said, "I don't take off this suit jacket that I am wearing because it's holy, I have hugged hundreds of soldiers while wearing it.” There is a marked sense that due to the Jewish people’s mission, its Torah and history, defending the Jewish people is one of the holiest acts. Every soldier, no matter how religious or not, is engaged in defending the Jewish people and this is sacred.
It is ironic that I, the Rabbi of a Synagogue less than a mile from the Mall, was in Israel during the largest Jewish march on Washington. Many people in Israel said to me, “You are here and all the Jews of America are in Washington!” Perhaps that is part of the point though; while it is true that as a people, Israel is the place which God told Abraham we are supposed to live, there is no doubt that at this time that the relationship between Israel and the United States, and between Jews in Israel and in the diaspora, is vital. May God protect us and may we see a victorious and peaceful end to this war, speedily in our time.