Dear Friends,
A richly developed ethical system is one of Judaism’s gifts to the world. If you understand just two concepts, you will begin to see why.
The first concept is from the very beginning of the Torah. After creating a world full of substance and life deemed tov (deeply good, harmonious), God created human beings. But unlike every other creature, the Torah (Gen. 1.26) describes human creation with the phrase (b’tzelem Elohim) — in the image of God. This means that, among other things, all human beings are equally deserving of dignity, safety, and love. No exceptions.
The second concept comes from the Exodus story. Just a few chapters after escaping Egypt, The Israelites are already told, “You shall not wrong or oppress a stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” (Ex. 22.20). This statement and others like it appear dozens of times throughout the Torah — The Talmud counts 36 of them — more than any other ethical requirement. Therefore, we must remember the suffering of our past, Torah commands. But if our suffering is only about us, we have missed the point. Our history of homelessness implies a special responsibility toward others in their homelessness.
Tzelem Elohim — uncompromising dignity.
Yetziat Mitzraim — uncompromising empathy.
These ideas are simple enough to understand, but difficult to apply. And that is because moral decision-making seldom demands a clear choice between right and wrong. More commonly, we must choose between right and right; or wrong and wrong.
Such is the case in this terrible ongoing war between Israel and Hamas. We all want the fighting to be over, but what of the hostages? What of Hamas’ unambiguous promise to massacre Jews again and again? On the other hand, what does it mean for Hamas to be eradicated altogether? Is that even possible? And if so, what will rise in its place? Who will lead the Palestinians out of their suffering? One can kill people, after all but not ideas. And in the wake of the untold devastation, the radicalization of another generation begins and the cycle of conflict continues. This is, after all, just what Hamas hoped would come to pass.
As I said, the choices here are between right and right; between wrong and wrong.
As students of history, and as moral agents with a stake in this conflict, it is incumbent on us to consider our responsibility. The conflict between Israel and the Palestinians has everything to do with dignity and empathy — two of our most deeply held values.
I find it excruciating to hold the full moral weight of this conflict, when our people are still held as hostages, our soldiers are dying, and the hatred toward Jews around the world skyrockets. Israel has worked in good faith for peace with the Palestinians over decades, without success. (I highly, highly encourage you to listen to Ezra Klein’s excellent recent interview with veteran US Peace Negotiator Aaron David Miller to learn more about this.)
And yet…
And yet.
There are other truths that we must acknowledge:
● An extremist, nativist Israeli government has brought Israel to this moment through its expansion of settlements, dismantling of its democratic institutions, and dehumanization of its perceived adversaries;
● Gaza is little more than an open-air prison. But even before the war, life for Palestinians was often unbearable. In the West Bank, civilians are constantly subject to checkpoints, arbitrary detentions without due process of law, violence from Jewish settlers, home demolitions, and all manner of indignities that accompany military occupation. On the Israeli side, there’s the psychological toll that such occupation takes on the (mostly 18-20-year-old) soldiers who enforce it.
● Palestinian refugees, numbering now in the millions, continue to live in camps throughout the middle east, largely abandoned by their host countries. (Except for times such as this, when international media attention makes their suffering politically exigent.)
The moral responsibility for the plight of the Palestinians is blindingly complex. But we don’t have to unravel all of that to know that, as an occupying power, Israel bears a tremendous moral responsibility. This seems unfair given the asymmetry of this conflict — one tiny Jewish state in a sea of Arab hostility — and given our history of persecution. Yet, today, the onus is on Israel to be the most ethical, the most responsible; the most sensitive of the values of Tzelem Elohim and Yetziat Mitzraim.
Anyone who thinks this conflict is one-sided is living in an alternate reality. Still, even knowing that there is pain and blame to share, I will not make excuses for supporting my people. I will fight with all of my soul for my people. That is an important part of justice in this conflict.
In Letters to My Palestinian Neighbor, Yossi Klein HaLevi writes that “a terrifying conditionality haunts our return [to Israel].” I think one of the things he means by this is that Israel’s miraculous existence demands a new responsibility on the world stage to global Jewry. And we have the reciprocal obligation.
With fervent prayers for Shalom,
Rabbi Moss
