Dear Friends,
I hope this note finds you well during this challenging time.
Today’s message is longer than usual and the result of some serious soul-searching. Please forgive me for its length.
A Reflection on Combating Antisemitism: Pleading or Demanding?
The state of affairs seems to have changed for Israel and American Jews; perhaps it is time our advocacy tactics must also change.
Despite massive efforts to combat the spike in antisemitism, we are failing as it continues to grow as the State of Israel – despite or because of its battlefield accomplishments – appears increasingly isolated. In the battle for Jewish survival and safety, we have our haters and enemies, but we have many others – nations, political leaders, pundits, and common citizens – who can be supportive, ambivalent, or downright hostile. While many of those others rallied to our side in reaction to the actions of our enemies and haters on and following October 7th, the ongoing war in Gaza has resulted in a significant erosion of their sympathy and support for both Israel and American Jews. This is the case even amongst long-time and mainstream allies, many of whom are qualifying their support or pushing back against us rather than sharing our concerns. In our ongoing quest for support from others, we may need to pivot to a humbler stance, from demanding justice to pleading for compassion and from leveling accusations of antisemitism to sharing our fears grounded in painful history.
This is a serious question that needs to be informed practically and tactically, but also Jewishly. Towards that end, let us engage in exploring Torah precedent for how we may best meet this critical moment.
Queen Esther was tasked with combatting Haman’s antisemitic decree to annihilate the Jews. She did it without applying pressure and making demands for justice but by using her characteristically humble posture. The same person who – well before Haman’s rise to power – lo biksha davar, had not asked for anything in preparation for her meeting with Achashverosh, continued with that same humility in her advocacy for the Jewish people. When the time came to advocate for her people, rather than make demands she presented herself in a way that made Achashverosh feel connected with her and motivated to take care of her, pleading with her repeatedly to share what she needed from him, ma she’eilateich … u’ma bakashateich. When Esther finally spoke up her language was not accusatory but pained, describing the plight of her people rather than the viciousness of those maligning them. It was only when Achashverosh asked her point blank to identify the culprit that she responded by naming the vicious Haman. Her subsequent advocacy was consistently firm but humble, characterized by effectively telling her nation’s story, crying and pleading and bemoaning the fate that awaited her people absent decisive governmental intervention.
Esther acted as what some derogatorily call a galut Jew, but she provided the model of successful advocacy that was subsequently replicated by Nechemia. The tragic reports Nechemia was receiving from Jerusalem compelled him to make his case before the Persian king Artashasta, and he too did not approach the king with demands but rather came before him in the normal course of his duties appearing downcast. This prompted the king to inquire as to what was upsetting Nechemia and to ultimately ask him – as Achaverosh had asked Esther – what he needed of the king, al ma zeh ata mevakeish (Nechemia 2:4). Nechemia, also a galut Jew, helped the king become a compassionate listener and share in the pain enveloping the Jewish people. He too was successful in eliciting the king’s sympathy and action on behalf of the Jewish people.
Looking back, we note that another galut Jew, Moshe, was taken aback when G-d instructed him to go to Pharaoh and demand that he let His people go, and he ultimately did so only because G-d specifically tasked him to demand freedom in His name. While our liberation from Egypt serves humanity as a historic model for reclaiming the rights of the oppressed, those rights were in fact not achieved by a human demand of justice. The yad chazaka strong-armed approach to advocacy used in Egypt was the exception rather than the rule and was made successful because G-d was a visible partner in the process. During periods when G-d does not speak with us from burning bushes and we are left to figure out how to fend for ourselves, we may be more successful by eliciting compassion as Esther and Nechemia did rather than by demanding justice.
In our current readings from the book of Devarim, Moshe likewise repeatedly indicates that humility is not only the right posture to adopt before the foreign kings we live under in exile; it is what may always work best. Moshe reminds that G-d chose the Jewish people not because we were bigger than others but because we were “smaller”, as we responded to our chosenness and to G-d’s abundant blessings with profound humility, ki at-em ha’me-at mikol ha’amim (see Rashi to Devarim 7:7). Moshe then repeatedly urges us to recognize that G-d’s love for us is the source of our blessing and to not allow ourselves to become overconfident in our prosperity (Devarim 8:11-14), military power (8:17), or moral superiority (9:4-6).
Prosperity is beneficial, military power is necessary, and maintaining our unimpeachable morality is critical. But none of these serve as a substitute for the humble recognition that we cannot do it on our own and that our strength and survival come from G-d’s love for us. That is why our Sages taught us to never make demands of G-d in our prayers, claiming what we think we deserve, but to recognize instead that prayer is rachamei, a plea for care and mercy, and thus approach G-d – especially at times of distress – in a humble posture (see Shabbat 10a). Even with G-d, we do not demand; we plead.
We are justifiably proud of Israel and its army, the only moral fighting force in the region. We must be sensitive to the plight of innocents and supportive of Israel’s efforts to mitigate the disastrous harm to Gazans caused by the cruel designs of Hamas. We must continue to see through and cut through the false narratives perpetuated by a media narrative influenced and controlled by haters. And we must fulfill our critical role advocating for our people and standing by them with loyalty and commitment.
But we must recognize that things have shifted from the earlier stages of this saga when our story elicited greater sympathy. Today, it is sympathy for others – some of it truly deserved and some of it ridiculously misguided – that has come to dominate the narrative and to make the Jewish story far less sympathetic. In that context, is it the time to pivot from demanding justice to pleading for compassion? From leveling accusations of antisemitism to sharing our fears grounded in painful history? Is it the time for us to go all in on the strategy modeled by Esther and Nechemia and championed by Moshe?
I pray that we consider our path forward with commitment, courage, and wisdom and that we ultimately move forward effectively.
L’anavim yitein chein, the humble will be endowed with grace (Mishlei 3:34).
Have a wonderful Shabbos and may we be blessed with besorot tovot, truly good news.
Moshe Hauer