Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright,
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light;
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout,
But there is little joy in Israel – mighty Bibi has struck out.
(With apologies to Ernest Lawrence Thayer)
Those of you who have followed my columns over the years know that when it comes to Israel and our unique place in history, I am an eternal optimist. And even now, I still believe that we will somehow persevere and continue our relentless march toward redemption. But that march has, at least temporarily, been gravely sidelined in the wake of the horrendous “peace” agreement being set in motion this week.
Yes, I realize that many will call me a grinch for not accentuating the positive. It’s true that some of our hostages will be coming home at last, and that is a good thing, of course. Our fighting forces may be given a brief respite from their interminable service in the killing fields, and perhaps there will be a break in the daily – or nightly – fleeing to the shelters in fear of the Houthi missiles. In the short term, as we welcome the kidnapped home, there will be a burst of relief, joy, and excitement.
But the euphoria will fade as we witness hordes of the most bloodthirsty Palestinian murderers being freed, and begin to comprehend that, in the long term, we have placed our beloved country in mortal danger for generations to come.
On my first visit to Israel, I attended a meeting of the Black Widows, women who had lost their husbands in the Six Day War. They explained to me their particular grief: “Israel and the entire Jewish world are ecstatic over the stunning victory in this war, but for us, our whole world has been destroyed.”
From the hostage families’ vantage point, this is indeed a moment to rejoice. But you will excuse the soldiers who lost their legs over the last year-plus if they do not run to join in the celebration; you will understand if those who lost their hands and arms do not applaud this massive surrender to the media-manipulated frenzy and the zeal of disgraced politicians desperately seeking salvation.
This insanely lopsided “deal” is being celebrated in Tulkarm, Rafah, and Nablus, while the Iranians are ecstatic; “The Israelis have been defeated,” they proclaim; “The Jews are weak and no match for Islamic defiance and determination.”
We have always believed in the “long game,” the necessity to prepare for the future even at the cost of the present. Abraham paid a fortune to purchase the Cave of Machpela in Hebron because he was buying Jewish permanence in the Land of Israel. Isaac was ready to sacrifice himself on Mount Moriah, implanting that quality into our spiritual DNA. And Jacob defiantly battled an angel until he finally claimed victory, thus winning the name “Israel” for eternity. Choosing the short-term solution may bring a sigh of relief, but ultimately it breeds an existential crisis that can take all of us captive.
SEEKING SOLACE and serenity, I looked to the Torah portion of the week, for all that happens in life can be found within the weekly sidra.
There I saw that the second portion of Shemot – which essentially begins the saga of the Exodus – strangely hides the names of all the protagonists, and it uses only pronouns to identify them. The rabbis explain that while the Book of Genesis is the story of celebrated, heroic individuals, Exodus is about nationhood, and the people as a whole must always take precedence over this person or that, even someone as great and indispensable as Moses.
The Torah records that there arose a pharaoh “who did not know Joseph,” and there is a classic debate as to whether this leader was indeed a new king or simply the existing one who summarily changed his policies and his posture toward the Israelites.
This week, as a new “king” takes the throne of the American presidency, we wonder, will Trump continue his admirable, unflinching support of Israel – perhaps giving the green light for finally taking down the Iranian regime? Is this what convinced the Israeli government to take “the deal” and release – or rather, unleash – thousands of terrorists? Or will Trump decide to double down and, now on a roll, pressure Israel into accepting the even more precarious “two-state solution” that gives abundantly more power to our adversaries?
We read that God appeared to Moses in a burning bush. Rashi, the great commentator, says that this was a thornbush, chosen specifically to indicate to the great emancipator that our journey throughout history would be thorny and complex, filled with excruciatingly difficult, no-win predicaments. We would emerge wounded from those thorns, but the bush – Israel – would never be consumed; our light would continue to burn forever.
When Moses asks God, “What is Your name, that I might describe You to the Children of Israel?” God replies, “I shall be what I shall be.” Rashi explains the meaning of this mysterious phrase: “I will be with them in this trouble, and I will be with them in future troubles as well.” If constant crisis is to be our lot in life, at least it comes with the promise that we will never face those trials and tribulations alone.
Moses, humble in the extreme, has no desire to be the leader. He pleads with God that someone else be appointed, but the Almighty is insistent – Moses is the only one suitable for this job. In what seems to be a shrug of his shoulders and a cry of desperation, Moses blurts out, “Send whomever You will send.” Rashi steps in here, too, and explains that Moses was not seeking to cop out. As a prophet, Moses saw that although he would indeed be successful in taking the Jews out of Egypt, there would be other exiles to come, other eras of subjugation in our long history. And so, in his deep love for Israel, he appealed to God to send the ultimate, final redeemer to guide the Jews to full and lasting glory.
Historic journey is not linear
But God explained to him that our historic journey is not linear; it is destined to undulate through the highs and lows of the human experience. Along this path, we will experience both miraculous success and near-fatal tragedy, and everyone – from Moses onward – must do his or her share to move us along our path. We may not abdicate our responsibility to the nation; we must serve in both good times and bad.
I fear for what lies ahead for our nation in the near future. The tears of joy we share today as our loved ones return may very well turn into tears of sadness when we witness law and order destroyed as brutal killers gleefully go free and perpetrate even more heinous crimes.
We pray for leaders who are not afraid to lead, who have the same courage as our brave soldiers who did not relent or retreat, even in the direst of circumstances.
But if, God forbid, we shall suffer, we shall never be silenced or subdued. We shall survive.
The writer is director of the Jewish Outreach Center of Ra’anana; rabbistewart@gmail.com. His son, Sgt. Ari Weiss, fell in battle against Hamas in Nablus in 2002.