The time for equivocation is over if we want Judaism to remain relevant
Jewish communal life has felt like a bubble in the last two years, a place where the outside world, especially as it is seen by most British people, is left at the heavily guarded door. Inside it, we don’t mention the war and as far as possible avoid saying anything of consequence. This is often a relief. It’s felt like the best one can hope for from Jewish life is irrelevance.
In the immediate aftermath of October 7 it was different. Our synagogues were filled with prayers of mourning for the victims of that day, and for the captured hostages. Acheinu became the anthem of so many communities, an 11th century text talking of ‘our brothers who are given over to trouble or captivity…may the All-prese?nt have mercy upon them, and bring them forth from trouble to relief, from darkness to light, and from subjugati?on to redemption, now speedily and at a near time.’ The text is not triumphalist, nor about the state of Israel (how could it be) and neither is Abie Rotenberg’s setting, despite having been released in 1990 during the first intifada and just before the First Gulf War. It was good and right for communities to say these prayers. But what quickly became apparent was who was not being prayed for. Israel’s war on Gaza began immediately, on October 7, and thus Palestinians were being killed from the outset. It did not take long for the number of dead Gazans to equal those Israelis killed on October 7 and not much longer to massively outpace them. Jewish communities were heavily focused on the October 7 victims, with little awareness of the Palestinian victims, and thus tended to interpret the widespread demonstrations around the globe as anti-Israel (and antisemitic) rather than viewing them as being in support of Palestinians.
After the early months it became clear that the war was not going to end quickly. And over time the news of Gazan suffering began to grow and be increasingly covered in Western media. British Jews couldn’t help but be aware of it, even if they also consumed Israeli media, leading them to see the British coverage as biased and anti-Israel. Jewish discourse went in two directions. The first, which I have not seen directly as I do not operate in such circles, leaned into supporting the war, sending aid to soldiers, and generally making their communities feel like satellites of Israel. This approach was at least honest and clear. It was an engagement with the conflict, even if one that I strongly disagree with. It allowed the leaders of such communities to appear relevant, as if their Judaism was embedded in current events. The other approach, which I have observed up close, has been to ignore the conflict as far as possible. Sure, the prayers for the hostages remain but there is otherwise an attempt to minimise what is recognised to be a controversial issue. Nobody talks about it. The conflict lingers heavy in the air, members no doubt post about it on social media and perhaps share hushed conversations about it but the community as a whole steers clear of anything but the most parev statements. Perhaps a few dovish congregants agitate for a more left-wing position and a larger number push for a more full-throated stance of standing with Israel, but the community remains studiously neutral. It also comes across as being irrelevant, as if it has nothing to say about the most significant Jewish issue of the day.
Jewish Single-Issue Groups
This dynamic does not only exist in synagogues: I’ve seen it play out in a range of ‘single-issue’ Jewish groups. Groups devoted to Yiddish, Talmud study, racial equality, LGBT rights, environmentalism, theatre, academic Jewish studies, traditional-egalitarian prayer, vegetarian/veganism, music and much more have sought to avoid conflict within their ranks by avoiding taking a position, despite the progressive tendencies of many of these groups. These are organisations who do wonderful work in making Judaism a living and meaningful tradition, but this is an issue they feel they cannot touch. I can understand the impetus – there is a diversity of views within each group, or at least a right-wing minority, and nobody wants to turn their organisation into a fractious and unpleasant one in which people are constantly at odds with one another. There’s also the well-founded fear that should one of these bodies speak out in favour of Palestinian rights they will come under attack from the increasingly feral British-Jewish press which acts to police the Jewish community as much as it reports on it. And often there’s a financial drive – donors are usually far more conservative than the people they fund, and act as a break on any political activity beyond that deemed core to the group’s purpose, especially one that attracted media controversy. For all these reasons the inclination is to avoid ‘politics’, to stick narrowly to the group’s purpose and not say anything about the war.
This approach however, has several costs. Firstly while avoiding politics is ostensibly neutral it in fact favours one side of the argument. The pro-ceasefire side is calling for action – a range of sanctions, arms embargoes, UN resolutions, travel bans, asset freezes – whatever it takes to force Israel to end the war and allow unrestricted aid into Gaza. The pro-Netanyahu camp wants Israel to be allowed to continue the war without restriction as long as it wishes. Thus, saying nothing, refusing to give Jewish organisational backing to efforts to end the war, is in fact a pro-Netanyahu, pro-war position. The second cost of silence is that it makes these organisations increasingly irrelevant. For a group (if any exist) that sees Judaism as purely religious, believing that it exists outside history in a Rosenzweigian manner, that it should have nothing to do with contemporary events, this may not matter. And I would defend the right of such a group to stay silent. But most Jewish groups are not in this category. They are involved in Jewish music, egalitarian prayer, Jewish antiracism etc. because they think Judaism has something to say to the modern world, that it has wisdom and contemporary relevance to offer. But remaining silent in such a moment as this (Esther 4:14) will fatally compromise that relevance. Who in the future is going to listen to a Jewish perspective on environmentalism or social justice when the bodies that espouse them did not speak up when thousands of people were being starved to death in the name of Jewish safety and security? And which young Jews will want to join these organisations if they do not hear a just and moral response from them about Gaza? Our ability to articulate a compelling, meaningful and rich Judaism for tomorrow depends on our willingness to speak up for Palestinian rights today. The wellbeing of our tradition is at stake.
Rabbis
This message applies even more strongly to Rabbis. Many of them, particularly in the Progressive and Masorti communities, are strongly anguished about the situation in Gaza, and would like to speak out against it. But they face a series of factors pressuring them not to: a group of loudly pro-Israel members who will condemn them if them do, perhaps some members of the board that have long been waiting to force them out, the aforementioned Jewish press which would no doubt label them an antisemite, that handful of donors who are funding the synagogue repair programme who could easily withdraw their largesse at the first sign of controversy. Moreover, they probably have a deeply held desire to maintain shalom bayit within the community, and to listen to the community rather than go out on a limb and isolate themselves. All of that is understandable. But the chances are that many members of the community are stuck. If they have strong ties to Israel they won’t be able to move beyond the discourse there, which is still too often in denial over Gazan suffering, or Israel’s responsibility for it. Communities need their rabbis to take the lead on this, to show them that Judaism remains relevant in this moment, that our tradition is about ethics more than ethnic solidarity.
They should also consider their position in history – how they want to be remembered. We look back at those who spoke out – or marched – as part of the civil rights movement in the US in the 1960s, most famously Abraham Joshua Heschel, who described how on the Selma march ‘it felt like my legs were praying’. We also remember with pride those (small number) of Rabbis who spoke out against apartheid in South Africa such as Andre Ungar (who trained at Leo Baeck College), Louis Rabinowitz and Selwyn Franklin. Rabbi Marshall Meyer who later became Rabbi of Bnei Jeshurun in New York, was famously a human rights activist in Argentina during the period of the military junta. Alongside this small group of activists there were many more rabbis who kept their membership and their boards happy by keeping shtum but as a result do not have the same kind of historic moral reputation. As Claude Montefiore once wrote ‘Ten bad Jews may help to damn us; ten good Jews may help to save us. Which minyan will you join?’
What Has to Be Done?
What it is it we need people to say? Firstly we need a clear statement that aid should be allowed into Gaza without restriction, to be delivered by UN agencies, not the discredited and murderous Gaza Humanitarian Foundation. Critics will say that if this happens Hamas will siphon off aid. Frankly I don’t care. Stopping starvation is more important than anything else. And as every economics student will tell you, it is scarcity that creates the conditions for a black market and profiteering. Since there is so little food in Gaza of course some of it will be seized and sold on at a profit by armed gangs – both those Israel is fighting and those it is funding. The answer is to flood Gaza with as much aid as possible given out by genuine humanitarian agencies, as in the ceasefire period earlier this year. This would break the power of the gangs, bring down prices and most importantly, stop people dying. There is no room for equivocation on this.
Secondly, we need a clear call for Israel to end the war. Humanitarian aid cannot be successfully delivered while the bombing and the occupation of Gaza continues. The demand must be that Israel take the deal that Hamas has been offering for over a year – all hostages released, both alive and dead, in exchange for an end to the war, a full withdrawal from Gaza and the release of Palestinian prisoners. No 60-day partial deals that leave hostages in captivity and the IDF remaining in parts of Gaza. A comprehensive agreement to end the war. The deal is there to be done – it could be signed today.
For Ourselves
I’d like to argue that we should do this because of Palestinian human rights. Because Palestinian lives matter just as much as Israeli ones, and starvation and mass killing must be opposed whoever is the victim. Because one who takes a life is considered to have destroyed a whole world. But if this line of argument was sufficient we would not be where we are. Clearly, there needs to be a particularistic appeal to self-interest. Fortunately, such an appeal is not difficult to make. This war, and this genocide as most of the world plausibly sees it, has done more to delegitimise the state of Israel than the BDS movement ever could. It puts in peril not just the Netanyahu government but the state as a whole. Millions of people who were previously sympathetic or neutral towards Israel now see it as a murderous rogue state that tramples on human rights and ignores international law. The protection provided by western elites is already running thin and eventually politicians will choose to heed the views of their electorates and stop providing Israel with arms or diplomatic immunity. Every day the war continues the chances of Israel surviving as a state diminishes. If you want Israel to exist and flourish you need it to not only end this war immediately but to sign a comprehensive peace with the Palestinians as soon as possible. This is the only path to international legitimacy and long-term survival.
Moreover we should consider the interests of Judaism. Israel, and the current government in particular, treats diaspora Jews as human shields. It does outrageous things and when these cause an outcry it claims that this is motivated by a hatred of Jews not by its action. It blurs any distinction between Israel and the Jewish people and then pretends to be surprised when protestors around the world fail to make such a distinction. Furthermore it relies on Judaism itself; claiming its moral authority and wrongly implying that its actions are rooted in Jewish texts and values. If we value Judaism we need to loudly oppose this. Judaism is a wisdom tradition; a source of values, ethics, stories, philosophy, all of which are actualised through ritual and halacha. It has much to offer the world; on how to build an ethical society; on what unjust regimes looks like (based on the models of Sodom, Egypt and Rome), on how to live diasporically, carrying your culture on your back, on how to continually read ancient myths anew; on how to shape time; on how to live with intention and optimism; how to laugh through tears; and how to dance with law rather than be subject to it. But people will look at how Judaism is being used in practice today and laugh at such lofty claims – it will look to many as if Judaism is not only irrelevant but actively harmful. We who stand by them need to declare our independence and pledge our fidelity to Jewish ethics, making clear that they are not represented by the actions of the Israeli state. It is true that the war on Gaza is not the fault of diaspora Jews and others must not hold us responsible for it. But our self-interest requires us to speak out against it for the sake of Judaism, that we create a Kiddush Hashem rather than a Hillul Hashem.
We are in the midst of the three weeks, a period of mourning that will soon culminate with Tisha B’av, the day that mourns the destruction of the Temples and various other Jewish tragedies. It is poorly observed in much of the Jewish world. It doesn’t fit neatly into the modern / Zionist festival paradigm of ‘they tried to kill us, they failed, let’s eat’, a popular adage coined by the American Jewish comedian Alan King in the 1950s. Tisha B’av is more like ‘they destroyed the Temple, we take responsibility for it, let’s fast.’ We take responsibility because the Talmudic narratives associated with the day tell a story of how the Temple was destroyed due to a series of petty squabbles amongst Jews, creating a chain of events which concluded with the Roman capture of Jerusalem. This typifies the rabbinic approach – when bad things happen to us it is better to look to our own conduct rather than blame others. This might seem an uncomfortable demand when it comes from the outside, but it is an act of empowerment when we take it upon ourselves. Not to hit out but to turn inward and examine our deeds. These stories were written when the Rabbis lived in Babylonia, without sovereign power. Kal V’chomer, how much more do they apply when Jews in the state of Israel hold sovereignty and are empowered to change the reality on the ground. For their sake, for ours, and for the sake of Judaism we need to speak out. Today.