Investing in the Jewish People

As another Tisha B’Av recedes with the Temple Mount defaced by the Dome of the Rock and a majority of Jews still living in the Diaspora, the thoughtful must face a grim admission. From the perspective of Rabbinic tradition, our generation is just as responsible for the destruction of the Temples as were the generations that actually witnessed the falls of the Temples. And so, if we look at it that way, if we look outside our windows and see the smoke of ruin rising through the air, we cannot avoid a bit of reflection. How do we fix this mess? What should we be doing better?

Disclosure: I’m not a prophet. 

That’s alright. I’ll share what I’m thinking anyway.

Nine years ago, at this very time on the calendar, the State of Israel removed some 9,000 or so residents of Gush Katif, a Jewish settlement bloc located in the Gaza Strip, as well as the residents of four communities in the West Bank. While the major players in the Israeli government were motivated by the desire to free Israel of a perceived military and diplomatic burden, the Disengagement created a vicious political maelstrom within Israel. The primary objection was humanitarian; why would the government uproot some 25 Jewish towns and villages, which were built with the approval of the government? Some also raised security concerns; what good would it do to hand over the territory to Palestinian administration, which would likely take advantage of the position to perpetrate anti-Jewish violence and terror in the rest of Israel?

The government rejected calls for a national referendum on the matter, stubbornly pushing ahead after approval in the Knesset. The people of Gush Katif would not take the decision lying down. Massive prayer rallies and protests were organized. Widespread fundraising efforts were coordinated. But these campaigns did not succeed in shaking the government’s resolve.

With enormous emotional trauma and anguish, the IDF coordinated a painstaking (but weaponless) removal process, and shortly after Tisha B’Av, the thousands of residents were left tired, abandoned, and homeless. The government was woefully underprepared for the personal crises of all the removed families, as people lived for weeks, months, and years in tents, hotel rooms, and/or (eventually) temporary housing units and caravans. This is to say nothing about the challenges of employment, income, and psychological scarring.

Nine years later, the State of Israel is harvesting the fruits of its fateful decision. In the same summer season of the Disengagement, we have endured the third Gaza war in six years. Each time, the vile terrorist organization which controls Gaza has launched incessant and indiscriminate rocket attacks at Israel. Each time, they have exhibited greater and greater capacity for destruction and have widened the range of their threat. And there are no indications that they have been discouraged from their course or that they have any interest in meaningful peace.

While the Disengagement is foremost on my mind in trying to make sense of these past few weeks, two other phenomena have been called to my attention. The first is the aggressive and obnoxious BDS (Boycott, Divest, Sanction) movement, an international campaign to isolate Israel economically, socially, and academically, from the rest of the world. Thankfully, most governments and academic bodies still understand that this kind of bullying, akin to sticking Israel in the corner with a dunce cap on its head, is asinine. Israel’s disproportionate contributions to every worthy human endeavor are too valuable to be shunted. Nonetheless, the BDS mongers continue to spew their acrid diatribe at every opportunity, and they have been successful enough to frustrate. (After all, that’s what they really, really want, isn’t it?)

In any case, something else has been on my mind. A number of the IDF soldiers killed in this war (may their memories be blessed and may their sacrifices be honored), notably those killed in the past several days, have been engaged to be married or recently married. This war has so cruelly and tragically severed the engagements of young grooms and brides, couples waiting to build their lives together.

Of course, engaged and Disengagement are not truly related; Hebrew is not English, and the connection between these seems no more than semantic. Nonetheless, when you throw into the mix the forces calling for divestment, and it is enough to make me think. There is a very significant thematic link here.

This war reeks with the smell of separation. While Jewish unity is, unfortunately, an old problem, now, in particular, it’s particularly relevant. Nothing new there. Many people write about the secular and the religious, the Zionist and the “Ultra-Orthodox” camps getting along. It’s true, but it’s not the whole story. At least, it’s not my whole story.

The Talmud explains that Jerusalem was destroyed over a matter of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza (Gittin 55b). As the gemara explains in the famous story, Bar Kamtza was shamefully sent away when he accepted an invitation that was supposed to be directed to someone else named Kamtza (perhaps his father?). The party’s host was cruel and unrelenting; Bar Kamtza felt the Sages in attendance were inappropriately tolerant of the public offense; and perhaps even Kamtza himself was somewhat guilty, because he didn’t come to his friend’s party. Each guilty party in this episode shares one moral failing: selfishness.

Consider: Millions of Jews have been living under the threat of rocket fire for nearly a month. Tens of thousands of Israelis have been called in for reserve duty, most of them leaving families at home and abandoning their steady jobs and incomes. Thousands of children have had their summer camps and programs hijacked. Hundreds of these children have been relocated from their homes (some without parents) because of the constant stream of sirens and the shadowy threat of a terrorist tunnel invasion-massacre. Hundreds of soldiers have been hospitalized. And scores of ordinary and extraordinary people have been killed. Weddings have been cancelled, and children have been born to mourning mothers. And that’s just in Israel. In other places, people have been subjected to the kind of mob terror that the Jewish people last saw in the Holocaust.

So for us, most of us, who continue to live our lives, who continue to go about our own business, and to one degree or another, continue to look the other way, what can we say? Have we engaged and invested ourselves emotionally in the lives of other Jews? Have we made phone calls and written letters? It’s not even so much about the victims of these violent weeks. They do deserve our support. But others also need our support- siblings, cousins, friends, who might just be struggling with one issue or another. For us, the point is the same: we need to break out of the selfishness.

Jewish peoplehood is still alive. Unfortunately, the brutal anti-Semites of the world are aware of it, and they are threatening Jews from Turkey to South Africa and from France to Calgary. But we know it, too. Many Jews are assembling for prayer or for political rallies. They are giving their time, their thoughts, and their money to help other Jews in distress. This is heartening. It’s helpful. It’s good. It’s necessary. But it might not be enough. Why? Because so many Jewish soldiers and civilians have been killed in recent weeks. Because the Temple is still burning. Because it really doesn’t have to be this way.