Rabbi's Chayva's Chat

It’s been another week of difficult news from Israel, but in addition to the continued trauma and tragedy, I have been hit almost daily by a different challenge: dismay and worry. I am deeply unsettled by what I have learned, and I want to share it with you because we have committed to navigating the challenges of this war together.

First, Israeli religious nationalists and some families of hostages have repeatedly blocked humanitarian aid trucks into Gaza because they believe that the lethal pressure of starvation and disease will return their families or give them revenge. I cannot imagine what the families of hostages are going through and perhaps I might do the same in their place, but I struggle to extend the same empathy to right-wing activists who convey that they do not see a difference between being a Gazan Palestinian and being a Hamas terrorist. Five thousand activists of the same school of thought gathered for a conference in Jerusalem on Sunday, openly calling for the expulsion of Palestinians from Gaza, reestablishing Israeli settlements on the ruins of Gaza City and its surrounding area, and by doing so, would move the Jewish people into a new phase of approaching the messianic age. When Itamar Ben-Gvir and Bezalel Smotrich took the podium, neither mentioned saving the hostages.

Second, Haaretz reported yesterday that the IDF has burned down hundreds of private, vacated homes, and the New York Times reported today that the IDF has destroyed hundreds of buildings in controlled explosive demolitions. I don’t deny that these houses, apartments, mosques, and schools might have been Hamas operations centers, as they are known to use their constituents as human shields, but once vacated, all that’s left is someone’s home or mosque or school. When questioned, the IDF has responded that they’re creating a security buffer zone, but many of these instances have been far from the buffer zone. Why would we, as Jews and the descendants of refugees, employ something akin to a scorched-earth policy?

Which brings me to my third point. I have studied Israel, its languages, histories, and cultures for enough years to learn how much more there always is to learn. I would readily admit that the understandings and interpretations I have articulated thus far might be limited and too quick to jump to conclusions. If it were not for Gadi Eisenkot’s recent interview.

Gadi Eisenkot is a member of Israel’s war cabinet, along with Benjamin Netanyahu, Yoav Gallant, Benny Gantz, and Ron Dermer. Eisenkot is a minister in the National Unity party, was IDF Chief of Staff from 2015 to 2019. He has filled numerous military and political leadership roles, but his connection to the war is the most personal of all war cabinet members: on December 7, he lost his son, the youngest of five and only twenty-five years old, in an explosion in Gaza, and the next day Eisenkot’s nephew was killed too. His niece had also been wounded and hospitalized.

In a major television interview last week, Eisenkot said:

1. Bibi bears partial responsibility for the failures that led to October 7.
2. It’s unrealistic to believe that Hamas will be uprooted and routed in this war.
3. Those who talk about an absolute defeat of Hamas do not tell the truth.
4. The government doesn’t have a plan to end the war.
5. The primary goal of the war should be getting the hostages home.
6. The hostages will not be saved through military action and the government should be willing to stop the war, and soon. It’s impossible to get the hostages back without a deal with Hamas.
7. He has red lines and it’s therefore very possible that he’ll need to leave the war cabinet and government soon (implying that the war is not being waged in the way it should be).

I am worried. I have started to worry that this war will hurt rather than help Israel’s security - that it has created unhealable wounds, and Israel is caught again in a cycle of gut-wrenching pain and destructive retribution. It’s a terrible way to live that brings out the worst in people.

So how do we hold these distressing developments? Two lessons come to mind. The first is the sense of Jewish peoplehood that I spoke of on Yom Kippur morning: no matter how complicated and difficult, we are part of the Jewish family. It makes it more personal and more challenging, but also means we have a say in the matter. Second, in Pirkei Avot, the sage Hillel teaches, “B’makom she’ein anashim, hishtadel lihiyot ish - in a place where there are no men, strive to be a man.” In other words, when those around you have gone off the path, do not give up hope and do not let go of your values. 

May we all continue to navigate this period together, led by our values and buoyed by our compassion. I am always here if you want to talk.