The struggle to settle our homeland endures. Nearly 80 years after the founding of our state, and despite our efforts to live in peace with our neighbors, many still deny our right to this land. The Simchat Torah war of the past year and a half is a continuation of the War of Independence, a reminder that our right to exist remains contested and that violent antisemitism still rages.
One thing, however, has changed: The ideological basis of our conflict has dramatically shifted. In 1948, opposition to the State of Israel was rooted in pan-Arab nationalism, a movement that aspired to unite all Arab peoples and lands under a single cultural and territorial identity.
This vision imagined the entire Middle East as a unified Arab homeland; the establishment of a Jewish state at its heart was viewed as a colonial intrusion – foreign, illegitimate, and incompatible with Arab sovereignty.
Close to 80 years later, the terms of our struggle have shifted dramatically. With the rise and spread of radical Islam, the fiercest opposition to Israel is now fueled by religious ideology. Israel and the Jewish people are cast not as political adversaries but as infidels who have defiled sacred Muslim homelands. Our presence in Jerusalem is particularly infuriating to them, seen as a desecration of sacred Muslim sites.
Our struggle for Israel is no longer merely a territorial or nationalist conflict; what began as a clash between pan-Arab nationalism and a Jewish state rooted in socialist ideals has transformed into a battle over faith, theology, and religious destiny.
For religious Jews, this battle is more readily framed within the sweep of our historical journey. We have returned to our homeland not merely to reclaim soil but to restore the Divine Presence to a fractured world. Our mission, to make God’s presence felt in history, is now confronted by those who defile His name, wrapping hatred in holy language and distorting faith through violence.
Now that the struggle has assumed an ideological form, it is more easily woven into the fabric of our religious history as yet another chapter in the age-old battle over the meaning of God in human affairs.
Radical fundamentalist Islam has warped core ideas of God and faith. On Shavuot, as we celebrate the delivery of Torah and God’s descent into our world, we must reaffirm the foundational truths of Judaism and monotheism. In an age clouded by confusion about religion, we are called to clearly and courageously defend its legacy against the shadows of false monotheism.
Image of God
Abraham was the first to discover a God of mercy and compassion. For generations, humanity believed in savage deities – heavenly beasts with fangs and claws who toyed with humans for sport. Our forefather introduced a revolutionary idea: a God who cares for humanity and desires its flourishing. To underscore this truth, the first commandments given at Sinai focused on shaping an ethical society and protecting the vulnerable from the powerful.
Likewise, one of the pillars of Halacha is piku’ach nefesh, the principle that all commandments are set aside when life is endangered. Only three transgressions – murder, adultery, and idolatry – are never overridden, for these acts so corrode the soul that life loses its moral worth. Every other law yields before the sanctity of life.
God desires life, health, and human flourishing. His laws are not meant to sacrifice life but to elevate it. And when life is in peril, Halacha steps aside.
This is the enduring image of God that Judaism brought to the world – a God of compassion, justice, and moral concern.
Radical Islam has profoundly warped this image of God. The god they invoke is vengeful and bloodthirsty, reveling in the suffering of innocents. Though they claim belief in a monotheistic deity, the traits they ascribe to Him are so distorted, they border on heresy. To deny God’s ways of mercy and compassion is, in effect, to deny His presence.
Tragically, this distortion of the Divine image has led many to turn away from religion. Rather than embracing faith as elevating and ennobling the human spirit, they associate it with violence, death, and cruelty.
Everyone is God’s creature
Every human being is created in the image of God, gifted and endowed with unique traits that no other creature in the natural world possesses. Man is completely free to use these faculties constructively, advancing both material and spiritual well-being. At the same time, man is equally free to disobey God’s will, violate moral norms, and commit wrongs.
No dark forces compel anyone to sin; there are no groups inherently evil or locked in an eternal battle against good. Humanity is a single, unified whole, each person with free will and the power to choose. Judaism does not dehumanize or demonize non-Jews by viewing them as subhuman.
There is no ongoing cosmic war nor any lasting religious mandate to annihilate entire peoples or faiths. Jihad has no permanent role in religious history. While there once was a commandment to eliminate Amalek, over time this mitzvah, at least in its military form, has become obsolete.
Every person deserves respect and dignity. Life itself is a divine gift and must be honored accordingly. There are no infidels nor any dark forces that must be eradicated from this world.
Religion isn’t imposed
Judaism has absolutely no conversion agenda. We do not actively seek converts; when people express interest, we deter them. In this respect, Judaism is the most universalist religion. Our vision of the end of days does not require the conversion of every person to Judaism, nor their elimination.
We were chosen by God to exemplify dignity, duty, and the nobility of covenant and community. Our role is to model the beauty of the 613 mitzvot so humanity can better understand and embrace the calling of the seven universal laws. We do not pursue the conversion of others, nor do we impose religion through violence or conquest.
Fundamentalist Islam pursues an intensely aggressive conversion agenda. More troublingly, it often sees war and violence as tools to advance this goal. Islam originated in a time of political and military expansion, where conquest was a key means of spreading its influence, often through campaigns imposing conversion on non-Muslim populations.
God does not desire faith imposed by force but longs for it to be freely embraced. True faith blossoms only when chosen willingly, never claimed by the sword.
Life itself
There is no mention of the afterlife in the Torah, neither at Sinai nor in any other chapter. The Torah deliberately avoids discussing the afterlife so that religion is not seen as a means of suppressing human interest or welfare in this world just to “buy a ticket” for endless pleasures beyond.
God expects us to accept His will and His Torah, even if there were no afterlife. Even without belief in life beyond, a life of religion, meaning, and morality represents the highest ideal a person can strive for. A life lived before God carries its own profound meaning, needing no promise of reward beyond this world to validate its worth.
The Torah deliberately avoids emphasizing the afterlife, steering us away from obsession with eternal rewards. This keeps the purpose of religion grounded in our responsibilities in this world.
When the afterlife becomes the sole focus, like for Islamic terrorists who kill innocents, seeking heavenly rewards, religion loses its moral compass and can justify terrible crimes. Judaism preserves this delicate balance by sanctifying life here and now.
On Shavuot, we are challenged to protect faith from those who corrupt it.
The writer is a rabbi at the hesder Yeshivat Har Etzion/Gush with an MA in English literature. His books include the recent To Be Holy but Human: Reflections Upon My Rebbe, HaRav Yehuda Amital (Kodesh Press).