At Parasha Lech Lecha…

I am currently grappling with the opening words of the Parasha Lech Lecha (Lekh Lecha).

Martin Buber translates it as:

„He spoke to Abraham: ‚Go forth from the land, from your relatives, from your father’s house to the land I will show you.'“

I recognize that there is a direct line between Hashem and Abraham. For God speaks to him.

What is meant by ‚Go forth‘? I interpret it as follows… Grow beyond yourself and don’t prioritize your path over your ego.

This path leads three times away from its origin, the place of his birth. „Go from your country, go from your people, and go to the land I will show you.“

If one can see the land—and by this, Eretz Yisrael is meant—then this means two things. One must be physically present in the land, and one is able to enter the promised land. It is important to recognize that it is God alone who makes this possible.

Therefore, it continues:

„I will make you into a great tribe…“

Which tribe is meant by this? It can only refer to Judah, because the lineage goes from Abraham, through Isaac, to Jacob. Jacob himself is the patriarch of all Jews and thus also the father of all the tribes of Israel. This leads to another answer, because when it says that a great tribe will arise from Abraham, then all the tribes are meant, which, however, are not separate but form one great tribe. This is Am Yisrael in unity.

Shabbat Shalom

Gaza in the „Pax Americana“

Text: Prof. Moshe Hakohen-Eliya

Gaza in the „Pax Americana“

Gaza has always been a lump in Israel’s throat. It all began at the end of the 13th and beginning of the 12th centuries BCE, when a major climate crisis hit the eastern Mediterranean. Drought, famine, and the collapse of trade led many peoples to migrate – in Egyptian sources, they are called the „Sea Peoples.“ One of these groups was the Philistines, who came from the Aegean region – that is, from Crete („Caftor“ in the Bible) and southern Greece.

After they were defeated by Pharaoh Ramses III in major sea and land battles around 1177 BCE, some of them were allowed to settle in the southern coastal region of Canaan. There they founded five major cities: Gaza, Ashkelon, Ashdod, Ekron, and Gath.

Archaeological excavations in these cities reveal a mixture of cultures: the Philistines brought Mycenaean-style pottery and combined it with Canaanite culture. Thus, a new, mixed culture emerged in the heart of Canaan. The difference was also evident in the food: many pig bones were found in Philistine towns, but almost none in Israelite towns.

The Philistines became Israel’s constant enemies – from Goliath against David to Samson the Warrior. In the 8th century BC, their influence weakened: the Assyrian king Sennacherib conquered the Land of Judah, and the Philistines became his subjects. Later, the Babylonians completely destroyed their independence. With that, the Philistine people disappeared – but Gaza remained. Since then, this city has repeatedly played the same role: a problem at the heart of the history of the Land of Israel.

After the Bar Kokhba Revolt (135 AD), the Roman Emperor Hadrian wanted to punish the Jewish people. He changed the name of the province from „Judea“ to „Syria Palaestina“—after Israel’s old enemies, the Philistines—in order to erase the connection between the Jewish people and their land.

In the 19th century, when Jewish settlement in Israel resumed and brought economic growth, many immigrants arrived from Egypt and the Arabian Peninsula. Many of them settled in Gaza and on the southern coast. This gave rise to Gaza’s current population—not descendants of the old Philistines, but descendants of Arab immigrants of the 19th and 20th centuries.

The 2023-2025 war („War of Renewal“) is fundamentally changing Gaza. After destroying approximately 70% of the buildings, the United States is now taking control. Its goal is to create a major trade route—from India via Saudi Arabia and Israel to Italy. This route is intended to equalize or surpass China’s „New Silk Road.“ To this end, the US is jointly building a base in Kiryat Gat with Israel to monitor Gaza from.

At the same time, America is also constructing a massive diplomatic complex (“embassy”) north of Beirut – 44 dunams in size, with 130,000 square meters of building space. For President Trump, success in the Middle East is crucial, especially because he has so far been unable to end the war in Ukraine. Therefore, he is personally leading this project.

Israel remains a regional power. It has persuaded the US to attack Iranian nuclear targets and to support Israel militarily and diplomatically in the war against Hamas. Nevertheless, Israel must learn to deal wisely with the “American giant”: to cooperate with it where possible and to seize opportunities – for example, when Hamas refuses to surrender its weapons and then comes into direct conflict with the US.

The question of Israeli sovereignty in Judea and Samaria (West Bank) remains open. But one thing is clear: There must be no Palestinian state. Israel needs territorial depth along the historic mountain range that formed the heart of the ancient kingdoms of Israel and Judah as early as the 11th and 10th centuries BC—with Jerusalem to the south and Shiloh, Tirzah, Shomron, and Shechem to the north.

This mountain range is the historical and strategic heart of Israel—the backbone of its history and culture. Therefore, it must remain under stable Israeli control, as part of the historical and security depth of the Jewish state.

Agreed?

I am using my own mind, while thinking about politics and society in Germany

The prerequisites for bestialism in Germany were already present in the Weimar Republic and the early 1930s – and are still present today. History repeats itself as long as no consequences are drawn in political and public discourse. Those who downplay or suppress the dangers of destabilizing public space and value systems – we’re talking about freedom of expression and religious practice – have not yet grasped that 21st-century Islam is not and does not want to be compatible with Western values. They exploit the institutionally (courts) right to freedom of expression, but at the same time demand the abolition of the rule of law and the replacement of liberal-democratic structures in educational and political institutions with „Islamic values.“

This tendency toward infiltration and collusion with other anti-democratic forces on the left is very advanced in Germany and must be identified and addressed.

Parasha Noach in a kabbalistic Map

🧭 Ark, Ashes, and Covenant: A Kabbalistic Map of Parashat Noach

Given by: Dovid E. Yirmeyahu
Initially published: 3 Cheshvan 5784
(October 17, 2023)

———

Parashat Noach reads like a map of the soul. Beneath floodwaters and timbered beams, it traces a journey of purification, concealment and revelation, judgment braided with mercy, and the covenantal heartbeat that keeps creation alive. Through Torat HaPenimiyut and the whispering depths of Raz d’Razin, the narrative becomes a guide to inner work: how a person builds an ark within, learns to ride out surging din without drowning in it, and steps onto new ground as a vessel for light. Redemption, in this telling, ripens through the unity of Klal Yisrael—each soul contributing its note to a single harmony—and through the layered study of Torah that moves from surface to secret in one continuous ascent.

Noach stands in the text as a tzaddik tamim, the archetypal righteous one who fashions an inner teivah—an ark of emunah and hitbodedut—to carry the divine spark through storms. The Ark is a microcosm of the human, a container for Neshamah shaped by disciplined hands and quiet bitul, a silencing of ego that lets Divine will sound clearly (Zohar, Noach 5; Etz Chaim; Ramchal, Da’at Tevunot). Above these waters hovers the Shekhinah like a mother bird, sheltering the nest of souls; in Zoharic language, she cradles even the soul-root of Mashiach in exile and midwives its time to rise (Zohar II 7b–8a). Here the ancient “Chol,” the Phoenix of Bereishit Rabbah, appears as a hidden emblem inside the parashah: a bird spared for its humility and restraint, granted a rhythm of descent and renewal, and hinting that within the world’s ashes glows a seed of rebirth (Bereishit Rabbah 19:5). Its pattern is the soul’s: fall, refine, and rise.

The Mabul itself is a choreography of Gevurah and Chesed. The forty days and nights name the torrential phase—the liminal corridor of transformation that recurs throughout Torah—while the hundred and fifty days mark how long that upheaval prevailed until the waters yielded (Sanhedrin 108b; Bereshit 7–8). The tradition remembers those waters as scalding, the world uninhabitable, so that cleansing would reach what ordinary rain cannot. In the language of Sod, the Flood is not only hydrology but metaphysics: a recalibration of the world’s receivers, a tzimtzum-and-vessel repair that allows Divine flow to resume without shattering. From this angle, the surge of Gevurah is not a negation of kindness but its precondition; by clearing corrupted form, it opens a channel for deeper Chesed. Tiferet’s work is to hold these two in living balance (Etz Chaim).

That is why the Ark carries every creature, pure and impure. On its face, the text preserves balance for the world that will be rebuilt. Beneath the surface lies a remez of universal covenant: all kinds of life have a share in the renewal that follows judgment. In drash, even what cannot serve as food serves in other ways: labor, companionship, medicine, and the complex ecology of human life. In sod, every being harbors sparks that yearn to climb back to their Source; to erase any class is to deny the Shekhinah her harvest. The Phoenix gently returns here: its Hebrew name, “Chol” (חול), equals forty-four—the same as “dam,” blood. Blood is called the nefesh of all flesh (Vayikra 17:11), the circulating life that bridges matter and spirit. The Phoenix’s cycle of ash and ascent mirrors this pulse, a Yesod-like fidelity that carries vitality through time without grabbing at it, channeling rather than controlling. Yesod protects the flow; when light is driven without vessel or boundary, it burns rather than heals (Etz Chaim).

As waters recede, the raven and the dove make visible a dialogue inside the heart. The raven circles the edges of the Ark and does not return, an image for those unrefined impulses that cannot accompany the journey into sanctity. The dove leaves and returns with the bitterness-and-oil of an olive leaf, a sign that Malchut—the world as it is—is ready again to receive presence. Sefirotically, this is Tiferet streaming into Malchut through Yesod, compassion meeting sovereignty with measured generosity. Noach’s quiet is not passivity but inner alignment: he waits until the world can bear what heaven wants to give (Bereshit 8:7–11).

At that threshold the Torah speaks “brit.” It is important to see clearly that Hashem does establish a covenant with Noach. The rainbow that arcs the sky is the sign of a universal pledge to all flesh, a refracting of supernal light through the vessels of creation so that seven hues—like the lower seven sefirot—proclaim mercy chosen over annihilation (Bereshit 9:9–17; Zohar I:72b; Ramban ad loc.). Later, in Lech Lecha, Hashem speaks a distinct covenant to Avraham: “I will make you into a great nation.” Here “goy” does not diminish spirit but anchors it, connoting geviyah, embodied nationhood, so that a uniquely calibrated spirituality can live through a people’s laws, language, and land. Through Avraham, “all the families of the earth shall be blessed,” meaning the world receives its portion of light through Israel’s mission. Nations partake in this blessing in more than one register: by embracing the covenant of the Bnei Noach—universal ethics bound up with the rainbow—and, when one freely chooses, by joining Israel’s covenantal people. The image of “grafting” is a metaphor for this alignment; in halachic terms, there is righteous companionship with Israel’s calling, and there is conversion into it. In every case, unity among Israel’s own tribes and souls magnifies the channel to the many, drawing the day of redemption nearer.

The Tower of Bavel warns that unity untethered to purpose collapses into self-worship. One language and one speech can be a ladder to heaven or a monument to ego. Malchut, the sefirah of speech, is the world’s steering wheel; when it serves the whole, words incarnate wisdom, and when it serves itself, words confound the heart. The dispersion of tongues is not a curse for its own sake but a tikkun that prevents the concentration of power from hardening into idolatry. Each language, scattered, now holds a facet of Divine expression that yearns to be harmonized—this time not by human hubris but by service that returns speech to its Source (Tikkunei Zohar, “Patach Eliyahu,” 17a). In the same vein, mystical lore cautions against “cultic” appropriations of the Phoenix archetype: attempts to seize eternity, bypass judgment, or instrumentalize life-force for domination. That path ignores Yesod’s discipline and Malchut’s truth, rupturing vessels and turning light destructive. The Phoenix, like the Shekhinah, rises through humility, not through conquest.

The painful episode of Noach’s nakedness threads ethical, psychological, and cosmic strands. In pshat, Ham’s failure to honor his father, broadcasting his shame instead of repairing it, incurs a curse upon Canaan. In drash, the sages read “seeing” and “uncovering” here as euphemism for a deeper violation; some texts record castration, others sexual misconduct (Sanhedrin 70a), and Midrash locates Canaan as the first mover who draws the curse upon himself (Bereishit Rabbah 36:7). Another thread explains why Noach’s words fall on the grandson: Hashem has already blessed the sons, and a blessing once given is not withdrawn (Bereshit 9:1), so the consequences take their path through the next line. In sod, the act is a tear in the veils that protect sacred flow, an assault on the tzniut that guards the channels of life. The Zohar frames it as interference in the world’s tikkun, a misappropriation of energy that belongs to a higher trust. What looks like a family scandal in the field is, in the soul, a warning about violating boundaries that make creation safe for presence.

The word “chamas” rises twice before the Flood like a siren. In the plain sense it names violence and corruption so pervasive that the world itself convulses. In remez it carries gematria of one hundred and eight, matching a traditional spelling of Gehinnom; both point to disordered fire that demands cooling and redirection. Many have noted the verse 6:13 and heard, within its cadence, an echo of the 613 commandments—together with the Thirteen Attributes of Mercy—that structure repair. The double appearance can be read as a call to mend the two basic axes of life: between human and God, and between person and person. And if modern ears bristle at an organization that bears that same name, the Torah’s mirror invites a response that is first spiritual: restore justice, reestablish boundaries, and re-center compassion so that the world’s heat serves life again. Where “chamas” expands, Tiferet—harmony—has been exiled; the cure is balance without sentimentality and judgment without cruelty.

Through all of this, the Phoenix circles back as a parable of the Ain Sof’s patience with us. In Raz d’Razin, the Infinite undergirds creation by constant, gentle emanation, but only vessels refined by humility can hold it. The tzaddik falls seven times and rises because ascent without descent is fantasy; the Shekhinah descends with us so that our climb will be real. In the Ari’s world of gilgulim, the soul re-enters the story again and again to finish the work of tikkun it began, not to escape accountability but to deepen it (Sha’ar HaGilgulim, Introduction). Dark readings of immortality seek to pause the clock; holy readings learn to sanctify time. The Phoenix burns and is reborn not to deny death but to reveal a life stronger than decay.

What, then, is the covenant that carries us forward? The rainbow’s arc assures that the world will be given space to mend; Avraham’s calling grounds holiness in a people so that blessing can flow; the Ark within is the craft of building a self that can carry light through storms; the dove’s olive leaf says that Malchut can be readied again to receive; the tower’s rubble teaches that unity must serve something higher than itself; the Phoenix whispers that restraint is the cradle of renewal. In the end, redemption is not a single act but a choreography of many fidelities: Israel’s inward unity, the nations’ participation in justice and kindness, the Shekhinah’s willingness to accompany us into our exiles, and our willingness to become vessels worthy of her return. Each trial we weather contains the hint of a rainbow. Each descent, held rightly, becomes the very ash from which the next ascent takes wing.

The facts about Hamas in Gaza and surrounding Influences; first published by Ahmad Mansour.

Why is Hamas suddenly willing to release hostages – and thus abandon its most important negotiating card?

Have you wondered where this sudden change of heart comes from?
Here are some contexts:

  1. The „successfully failed“ Israeli attack on the Hamas leadership in Qatar

What appeared to be a failure on the outside actually had a tectonic effect.
In Doha, the message was understood – and carried on: to Gaza, Beirut, Damascus, Sana’a, and Tehran.
The subliminal warning was: You could be next.

For Qatar, this was a wake-up call.
The era of unconditional support for Hamas – political, media, and financial – is over. In Doha, they fear instability more than anything else.
The message to Hamas was unmistakable: If you don’t agree to this deal, you no longer have a place here.

At the same time, a quiet but remarkable maneuver is taking place in Qatar: Al Jazeera, Hamas’s most important mouthpiece for years, has replaced almost its entire editorial staff. A signal: The organization no longer wants to be part of a toxic alliance.
Whether this change will last remains to be seen. But the wind has changed in Doha – and Hamas is feeling it on its back.

  1. The Military Reality in Gaza

The Israeli army has entered a new phase in Gaza City.
Hamas’s last strongholds are under fire, its command structures are crumbling.
What remains of the movement is fighting for survival.

At the same time, pressure from its own population is growing.
After two years of war, destruction, and hunger, the majority of people in Gaza want only one thing: an end to the nightmare.
Hamas knows that it can no longer secure its power with rockets, but only with a deal.

  1. The American Intervention – and Trump’s Calculation

The attack in Qatar was, many in Washington say, „one operation too many.“
Donald Trump no longer wants Benjamin Netanyahu to call the shots.
He has made it clear to him: This war must end – and on my terms.

Trump’s calculation is simple: He wants to go down in history as the president who ends wars – not as the one who escalates them.
Stability is more valuable to him than any Israeli offensive.
So Washington offered Doha an unprecedented security guarantee – in return, it expected Qatar to exert serious pressure on Hamas for the first time.

And that is exactly what is happening now. Hamas is feeling the American breath – through Doha, through the financial channels, through the diplomatic phone lines.

News by Hillel Fuld; 29.09.2025

Hamas and other factions agree to not have any role in the governance of Gaza, directly, indirectly, or in any form.

All military, terror, and offensive infrastructure, including tunnels and weapon production facilities, will be destroyed and not rebuilt.

There will be a process of demilitarization of Gaza under the supervision of independent monitors, which will include placing weapons permanently beyond use through an agreed process of decommissioning, and supported by an internationally funded buy back and reintegration program all verified by the independent monitors.

New Gaza will be fully committed to building a prosperous economy and to peaceful coexistence with their neighbors.

A guarantee will be provided by regional partners to ensure that Hamas, and the factions, comply with their obligations and that New Gaza poses no threat to its neighbors or its people.

The United States will work with Arab and international partners to develop a temporary International Stabilization Force (ISF) to immediately deploy in Gaza.

The ISF will train and provide support to vetted Palestinian police forces in Gaza, and will consult with Jordan and Egypt who have extensive experience in this field.

This force will be the long-term internal security solution. The ISF will work with Israel and Egypt to help secure border areas, along with newly trained Palestinian police forces.

It is critical to prevent munitions from entering Gaza and to facilitate the rapid and secure flow of goods to rebuild and revitalize Gaza. A deconfliction mechanism will be agreed upon by the parties.

Israel will not occupy or annex Gaza. As the ISF establishes control and stability, the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) will withdraw based on standards, milestones, and timeframes linked to demilitarization that will be agreed upon between the IDF, ISF, the guarantors, and the Unites States, with the objective of a secure Gaza that no longer poses a threat to Israel, Egypt, or its citizens.

Practically, the IDF will progressively hand over the Gaza territory it occupies to the ISF according to an agreement they will make with the transitional authority until they are withdrawn completely from Gaza, save for a security perimeter presence that will remain until Gaza is properly secure from any resurgent terror threat.

In the event Hamas delays or rejects this proposal, the above, including the scaled-up aid operation, will proceed in the terror-free areas handed over from the IDF to the ISF.

An interfaith dialogue process will be established based on the values of tolerance and peaceful co-existence to try and change mindsets and narratives of Palestinians and Israelis by emphasizing the benefits that can be derived from peace.

While Gaza re-development advances and when the PA reform program is faithfully carried out, the conditions may finally be in place for a credible pathway to Palestinian self-determination and statehood, which we recognize as the aspiration of the Palestinian people.

The United States will establish a dialogue between Israel and the Palestinians to agree on a political horizon for peaceful and prosperous co-existence.

To Parasha Ha’asinu by the Temple Institute, Jerushalajim

THIS WEEK, PARASHAT HA’AZINU: „GIVE EAR, O HEAVENS!“

This week we read parashat Ha’azinu, (Deuteronomy 32:1-52), the next to last parasha of the Torah. In last week’s reading, Vayelech, HaShem told Moshe, „And now, write for yourselves this song, and teach it to the children of Israel. Place it into their mouths, in order that this song will be for Me as a witness for the children of Israel.“ (ibid 31:19) The purpose of the song is to serve as an eternal testimony to Israel, warning them of the danger of abandoning HaShem for foreign gods, a spiritual pitfall which Moshe has been warning against all throughout his 37 day address to Israel which makes up the book of Deuteronomy. „And Moses wrote this song on that day, and taught it to the children of Israel.“ (ibid 31:22)

This week’s reading, Ha’azinu, is that song. The song begins by calling heaven and earth to bear witness to what is about to be said. This is followed by praise of HaShem, which is followed by Israel’s inevitable fall into idolatry. The ramifications will be painful, but HaShem will never abandon His people:

„Give ear, O heavens, let me speak; Let the earth hear the words I utter! May my discourse come down as the rain, My speech distill as the dew, Like showers on young growth, Like droplets on the grass. For the name of HaShem I proclaim; Give glory to our G-d! The Rock!— His deeds are perfect, Yea, all His ways are just; A faithful G-d, never false, True and upright is He…“ (ibid 32:1-4)

This montage shows the three patriarchs, Avraham and Yitzchak, (at the akeida – the binding of Yitzchak, Genesis 22), and Yaakov, (after awakening from his dream in Beit El, Genesis 28), all envisioning the future Holy Temple.

Continuing truth…

No one banned Jimmy Kimmel from every major social media platform.

That happened to President Donald J. Trump.

No one tried to throw Jimmy Kimmel in jail for daring to speak his mind.

That happened to Trump.

And no one ever fired a bullet at Jimmy Kimmel.

That happened to Trump.

And it happened to Charlie Kirk… who paid the ultimate price for daring to stand boldly for truth and for this country.

What happened to Jimmy Kimmel?

His bosses at a corporate media empire decided he wasn’t profitable anymore.

That’s it.

His “edgy comedy” stopped drawing ratings, advertisers weren’t impressed, and the suits pulled the plug.

That’s not censorship.

That’s the free market at work.

But let’s not confuse that with what conservatives face every single day.

Donald Trump was systematically deplatformed… erased from the digital public square because Silicon Valley thought Americans shouldn’t hear him.

Charlie Kirk was assassinated for speaking his mind… gunned down because his faith and patriotism inspired millions.

Regular conservatives across this country have lost jobs, been “canceled,” silenced, and targeted for nothing more than refusing to bow to the mob.

Freedom of speech does not mean freedom from consequences.

But here’s the truth: the consequences should come from the people, not from a ruling elite that rigs the system.

If you bomb on TV, the audience tunes out. If you’re unfunny, the market moves on.

That’s what happened to Jimmy Kimmel.

His ratings tanked.

His bosses looked at the numbers and saw the writing on the wall.

The advertiser-coveted 18–49 demographic—the one that keeps shows alive—collapsed.

Kimmel averaged only 129,000 viewers in that bracket this August.

That’s down from 212,000 in January and less than half of his June peak of 284,000.

That’s a nosedive.

Advertisers bailed.

Audiences tuned out.

And ABC saw him for what he was: unprofitable.

But when you are silenced, banned, jailed, or shot for your political beliefs—that’s not “consequences.”

That’s tyranny.

That’s persecution.

That’s an attack on the very fabric of America.

The left wants to blur the line.

They want you to think losing a TV contract is the same as being stripped of your voice, your freedom, or your life.

Don’t fall for it.

Kimmel’s problem is ratings.

Trump’s problem is a corrupt system that will do anything to stop him.

Charlie’s problem was that he was so effective, so fearless, so inspiring, that evil targeted him with deadly violence.

Kimmel’s story is the story of a washed-up entertainer who couldn’t cut it.

Trump’s story is the story of a man hounded, prosecuted, and even shot at for daring to fight for you.

Charlie’s story is the story of a Christian warrior taken from us because he refused to be silent.

We are at a crossroads. One side cheers when conservatives are silenced.

The other side—the side of freedom—believes that even when we disagree, the answer is more speech, not less.

That’s the America we’re fighting for.

So no, Jimmy Kimmel isn’t a victim.

He’s a failed late-night host whose corporate handlers tossed him aside.

The real victims are the conservatives who are banned, prosecuted, silenced, and even killed because they dared to speak truth.

We will not be silenced.

We will not back down. And we will not let the media gaslight us into thinking Kimmel’s firing is anywhere near the persecution faced by Trump, Charlie, and millions of patriots across this country.

We are all Trump.

We are all Charlie.

And together, we are the movement they cannot cancel.

kenblackwell

To the anti-semites of the world

To the anti-semites of the world:

You say we run the banks.
You say we control Hollywood.
You say we dominate the media.
You say we have too much influence, too much power, too much pride.
But you never ask how — or why.
So, let me tell you.

We were banned from owning land,
so we learned to live by our minds.
We were blocked from trade guilds
so we became merchants, scholars, doctors, and lawyers.

Our commitment to education didn’t come from privilege —
it came from necessity.
From exclusion. From survival.
When we were barred from universities, we built our own yeshivot.
The Torah became our moral anchor. When we were mocked for being “bookish,” we made knowledge our defense. The insult became our armor.

In medieval Europe, Christians were forbidden by the Church to lend money with interest. But kings still needed loans, and someone had to do the collecting. So they turned to the Jews — already despised, already othered. We became moneylenders not by ambition, but by force. Then we were hated for it.

In America, we were shut out of “respectable” jobs. So we went west and helped invent Hollywood — not to brainwash, but to dream. To tell stories. To make magic.

When Ivy League schools capped Jewish admissions, we founded Brandeis.

When hospitals wouldn’t hire Jewish doctors, we built Cedars-Sinai.

When law firms closed their doors, we opened Skadden and Wachtell.

We weren’t trying to dominate — we were just trying to live.

We were expelled from Spain. Massacred in Poland.
Hanged in Iran. Lynched in Georgia. Bombed in Germany. And yet, we survived.

We learned. We remembered.

In 1948, the world watched as nearly a million Jews were expelled or fled from Arab lands. Their homes, businesses, and synagogues were seized or burned. There were no refugee camps, no UN agencies, no worldwide calls for justice. No “right of return” for the Jews of Baghdad, Aleppo, or Tripoli.

You say we’re tribal. But we tried to integrate. We changed our names. But every time we tried to disappear, you reminded us who we were. So, we turned inward. We leaned on each other. We built hospitals when we weren’t welcomed in yours. We built advocacy groups to defend ourselves when no one else would.

And when no country would have us — we built our own.

Then Came October 7, 2023.

You say you hate Israel because of its policies. Because of land. Because of borders. But on October 7, 2023, Hamas didn’t target soldiers. They didn’t storm checkpoints or military outposts. They raped women. They beheaded babies. They burned families alive. They slaughtered civilians in their homes, bombed shelters, and slaughtered young people at a music festival. It was the worst massacre of Jews since the Holocaust. And as our dead lay unburied, the world didn’t mourn with us — it rallied against us.

College students held “Glory to the Martyrs” signs. Protesters waved swastikas in Sydney. “Gas the Jews” was graffitied in Berlin. Jewish students were barricaded inside libraries in New York. MIT students were blocked from class. At Harvard, they were told to remove their Stars of David for safety. All while our hostages were still bleeding in tunnels.

So, no — this isn’t about borders.
You hated us before 1948. Before the State of Israel existed. Before a single border was drawn.

What you hate is that the Jew now has power. A flag. A standing army.
A government. A home. You preferred us weak. Wandering. Apologizing. Dependent on your pity or permission to live.

Israel Is Not a Gift. It Is a Necessity.
We didn’t colonize the land — we returned to it. Jews have lived in Jerusalem, Hebron, Safed, and Tiberias for over 3,000 years. We prayed toward Zion for centuries. We spoke Hebrew while the world told us to forget.

We made the desert bloom.
We built a nation while surrounded by enemies, embargoed by the world, and haunted by the ashes of Auschwitz.

Israel was not built because of the Holocaust. It was built because of 2,000 years of exile, genocide, and betrayal — and it is the only insurance policy against the next one.

Never Again is not a slogan.
It’s the Iron Dome.
It’s the F-35.
It’s the 18-year-old girl in olive green standing guard so toddlers in Sderot can sleep.

Why the Double Standard?

When Russia invaded Ukraine, the world cried out. Blue and yellow flags adorned every profile. Weapons, refugee aid, solidarity — all rightly offered. But when Hamas burned Israeli children alive, we were told to “de-escalate.” When we defend our cities, we’re called monsters. When we bury our dead, you protest our grief. Why?

Peace Is Possible. We’ve Tried.

You say Jews are foreigners in the Middle East. But the UAE, Bahrain, Morocco, and Sudan disagree. The Abraham Accords proved peace isn’t just possible — it’s real.

We seek coexistence. You chant “From the river to the sea.” We chose life. You chant death.

So yes — Israel is strong now.
Baruch Hashem.
Because a powerless Jew is a dead Jew.
And history taught us: no king, no pope, no president will save us.

We don’t want to dominate. We just want to live. Freely. Proudly. Unapologetically.

You don’t have to like us. You don’t have to agree with us. But never again will you decide whether we’re allowed to exist.

Credit: Carl Ginsberg