October 7 shattered many illusions. We believed we had constructed an impenetrable defense, fortified by sophisticated technology and capable of shielding our citizens and cities from Arab brutality. This conception proved to be false. Conversely, our enemies assumed we were too fractured to rally and defend our land. Fortunately, our enemies were also wrong.
In addition to these false conceptions, another devastating illusion was shattered. Those who believed that antisemitism and hatred toward Jews had been eradicated were, tragically, also proven wrong.
In particular, many residents of communities near Gaza, who were profoundly committed to peaceful coexistence with their Arab neighbors, saw their dreams of harmony go up in flames. They had dedicated themselves to peace initiatives, fostering a vision of mutual respect and understanding. But on Oct.7, their communities were rampaged and burned.
One of the most poignant examples is that of Vivian Silver, a peace activist from Kibbutz Be’eri, who had selflessly driven Palestinians from Gaza to receive medical treatment in Israeli hospitals. On that fateful day, she was abducted, and after weeks of uncertainty, it was confirmed that she had been killed. Countless others across Israel, who had devoted themselves to building bridges, came to the bitter realization of how deeply we are hated by many, perhaps most Palestinians both in Gaza and in neighboring areas.
It wasn’t only the illusions of Jews in Israel that were shattered on Oct. 7. Many Jews around the world had built their Jewish identity on the mission of creating a more just and perfect society – the program of tikkun olam.
Especially for those who found traditional rituals less compelling, the pursuit of social justice became the centerpiece of their Jewish experience. As they marched alongside other minority groups in the battle against discrimination, they assumed that Jews had been embraced by modern society as equal partners in the fight for social justice.
In the aftermath of Oct. 7, however, many of the minority groups whose rights they had campaigned for turned their backs on them. Those with whom they had stood shoulder to shoulder in the noble struggle for equality, betrayed them while unleashing a torrent of venomous antisemitism. The halls of academia, once viewed as bastions of enlightenment and education and assumed to be forces against racism and antisemitism, became hotbeds of hatred and violence.
The world they thought they knew, and the society they believed was civil and enlightened, revealed darker realities. Their vision of an enlightened world, one striving for a society free of racism and hatred, was shattered.
In both Israel and the broader Jewish world, deeply held beliefs were shattered. We realized the persistent toxicity of antisemitism lurking beneath the surface, ready to erupt at any moment. Opportunistic antisemites will always align themselves with whichever political movement advances their agenda of hate and bigotry. Many mistakenly believed that the trauma of the Holocaust had etched a permanent revulsion to antisemitism into the human conscience.
Yet, 80 years later, antisemitism still rages unchecked. On Oct. 7, our naive conceptions of a modern and enlightened world – whether in Gaza, on US campuses, or along the boulevards of Europe – came crashing down.
A Biblical World
However, Oct. 7 caused an even more profound and sweeping transformation of Jewish identity. It didn’t just showcase the enduring malignancy of antisemitism but also provided a vivid reminder of our place within biblical history. That fateful day and its harrowing aftermath revived the ancient echoes of the Torah and its prophecies, reminding us that we are part of a timeless narrative. It reaffirmed, with striking clarity, the profound connection between our people, their history, and the Land of Israel.
Often, the discourse in Israel revolves around the divide between religious and secular Jews, between those who adhere to a halachic lifestyle and those who do not. Yet, a more profound divide exists: between those whose lives are shaped by Biblical narratives and those whose experiences are detached from the Torah. This division is not merely about observance but about how we perceive the relevance of the Torah in our modern, technology-driven world.
For many, the Bible has become a historical document, offering only moral guidance and a record of our national past. It is seen as a relic from an ancient, sandy desert, disconnected from our current urbanized, technologically advanced reality. In this view, history has moved beyond the pages of the Torah.
Conversely, others perceive the Torah and its teachings as the foundation of their identity and existence. They see their lives and the Jewish mission as intricately woven into the promises and prophecies of the Torah. Even those who may not follow a classic, halachic lifestyle still view their lives and our national struggle through the lens of Biblical narratives. Our ongoing effort to settle the land and confront international hostility is viewed as a chapter within a sacred book which is just as compelling now as it was thousands of years ago.
Israeli society may not be growing more religious, but it is undeniably embracing a more Biblical or Torah-oriented essence.
This wasn’t always the case. Zionism began as a secular nationalist movement, largely detached from the Torah’s narratives. The early Zionist leaders, including Herzl, envisioned the State of Israel not as a continuation of ancient prophecies but as a means to combat the age-old hatred of antisemitism. They believed that the creation of a Jewish homeland could overcome the prejudices rooted in Jewish exile and the experiences of living among foreign nations. In its early years, the State of Israel was more shaped by Marx than by Moses.
Over the past 75 years, the character of the State of Israel has undergone a profound transformation. Secular Israeli society today is imbued with far more Biblical influence than the secular culture of its early years. This shift is partly due to the influx and growing impact of Jews from Sephardic lands.
Sephardic Jews, even those not classically observant, often bring a more traditional perspective compared to their Ashkenazi counterparts. The secularizing movements that shaped European Jewry in the 19th and 20th centuries largely bypassed the Jews of Sephardic regions. Additionally, the rise of religious society in Israel, including a robust national-religious sector, has significantly influenced Israeli public life, particularly within the military and political spheres.
The ongoing struggle over our land has powerfully transformed Israeli secular society into a more Biblical one. The relentless hostility towards our presence here, the disproportionate judgment and double standards imposed on the State of Israel, and the sheer ferocity of the violence on Oct. 7 – all of these elements defy a purely geopolitical explanation. The intensity of the hatred we face suggests that our conflict transcends territorial disputes; it is embedded in a Biblical narrative, entwined with profound, ancient themes about the people of Hashem and the land promised to them. This story reaches beyond mere human dimensions.
Oct. 7 has not only reshaped Jewish identity worldwide but has also profoundly impacted broader Israeli society. It has reinforced the realization that the Bible is not merely an ancient document but a living text, reflecting the modern chapters of the enduring story of Hashem’s people.
