A Jewish Call for Peace

I write these words on Oct. 7, 2024. I write these words from a shattered heart and lost ideals. I write from a year of sleepless nights and darkened days. I write words that I fear are simultaneously far too late and far too early. After a year of fear about sharing my opinion, I intend to articulate my beliefs against the ongoing war in Gaza and now Lebanon, beliefs I have kept quiet and hidden since Oct 8. If such a claim upsets you, I invite you to stop reading now; my goal is not to create discord. While what I say is about the war, this is not to exclude my belief that we have been mistaken in policies we have imposed upon the Palestinians.

It is my belief that the war as it is being waged is counterproductive and engages in wanton, large-scale destruction with frightening lack of concern for civilian casualties. The goal of this article is not to write about the war from a political standpoint; voices wiser than I have been calling for a ceasefire and can better analyze the situation. I do not feel the need to spell out my specific views about pacifism or the logistics of war in detail; I’d rather examine the rhetoric around the war.

At YU, there is a strong assumption that students here are in support of the current war. This assumption permeates events, articles and student discourse. One benefit of this is that, thank God, the antisemitism that has infested much of the anti-war movement is not an issue in YU. However, the lack of any anti-war movement has also fomented complacency. Support for the ongoing operation and the violence and destruction it has caused is presumed. Those who, like me and some other YU students I know, are opposed to this war are presumed to be “misinformed,” as I heard in the framing of a question at a recent event held by the Lieberman-Mitzner Center for Public Service and Advocacy. Meanwhile, Palestinian lives are being destroyed and Israeli soldiers are dying in a continually expanding war that I believe should never have started.

I have revisited my texts reacting to the horrors of Oct. 7. I witnessed my dual-sided horror of the depths of human cruelty. I was repulsed to witness willingness by some to justify the atrocities committed in the name of some supposed anti-colonialist surge. But I was also horrified at the revenge fantasies that I saw from classmates and coreligionists such as the oft-cited call to turn Gaza into a parking lot — young and old, including women and children, on one day. Perhaps I had deigned to dream that this desire would dissipate quickly, but it unfortunately has not. 

I believe in a Judaism that is devoted to the value of human life, in which humanity has been made in the divine image. While I would consider myself a pacifist, I understand that allowance for war is part of mainstream interpretations of Judaism and I understand that my absolute repulsion from violence is not a universal Jewish dogma. However, I believe that the way so many of us discuss the war clearly goes against deeply held values. Nebulous discussion about Amalek takes the place of what seems to me a more basic part of the Jewish ethos — do not kill. As our university president writes emails to the student body about his experience visiting Israeli soldiers in Gaza, I find little reflection on the cost of the war machine he witnesses on civilians there. When he writes about the inhumane conditions the hostages have been held under, I do not witness any comparable concern or awareness for the ongoing starvation and scarcity of resources in Gaza, or inhumane treatment of Palestinian captives.

I, like many of you, was raised to believe that the IDF is the most moral army; I, too, bought into the notion and I still do not quite deny it — it has stuck. But I have witnessed how the idea of the most moral army functions not as an aspiration but a crutch. As we justify discomfort with IDF actions I witness a new dynamic, morality as a justification for the perpetuation of human agony. I feel we have sacrificed the beauty of our religion to militaristic devotion. Our sacred texts have been twisted to push for wide-scale destruction.

I often hear that the war is being fought for the hostages or to bring them back. This, however, is not really the case. Indeed, most hostage families support a deal; I am with them. I recently attended an event where Israeli and Palestinian speakers, all of whom had direct connections to the war, expressed a shared message of humanity, bridging differences to call for an end to the violence. I too desperately desire for the hostages to be brought home and so too that the citizens of Gaza be able to rebuild their lives from the rubble.

Instead, as the year-long war has moved from Gaza into Lebanon, I witness Jewish papers claiming that there are no civilians in Gaza. I see it argued that “revenge,” undertaken on a whole people for the crimes of a few, is not a dirty word, and so I lie awake fearful for us as Abraham’s descendants. Even as the war threatens the hostages, we celebrate its progress as a nation that has begun to worship death. I have witnessed celebration and rejoicing not primarily over our few successes in rescuing hostages but over the most impressive acts of violence we committed on our foes.

The Rav discussed his thoughts and fears about “the Jewish ethic,” that our lack of power has enabled us to avoid the bloody history that has plagued the history of Christianity and the State of Israel is our challenge to see if we can maintain our pristine values. I have read about the Rav being deeply bothered by the Sabra and Shatila massacre. I believe here we are witnessing the Rav’s ghosts come to life, crimson pages that will forever be a part of our story.

Yet, the war goes on, as over 350 Israeli soldiers have tragically passed in fighting since Oct. 7, many more surely seriously injured and countless Palestinian lives destroyed, those surviving often left homeless. Somehow we proceed, day after day, proclaiming our loss as we perpetuate devastation.

This, therefore, is my message to my fellow YU students: I am a proud Jew, and I call for an immediate ceasefire.

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Photo Caption: Peace is not just a dream

Photo Credit: Avishai Teicher / PikiWiki