1.
Where would we be as a nation without Tisha B'Av (the 9th day of the month of Av)? The strength of a country's leadership is expressed in its ability to relate to the future of the nation. What was it about that bitter and hasty summer day in the year 70 CE, when the Temple Mount went up in flames that were visible beyond the Jordan River to the east? The civil war that took place in Jerusalem left little sympathy and understanding between the people; Even in the face of the charging enemy, suspicion prevailed between the factions, and the joining of hands came too late.
The Roman soldiers, frustrated by the years of the Great Revolt, by the stubbornness of the Jews, by the significant casualties they sustained, and by the scorching heat, took out their anger on the Jews and on the city. Flavius Josephus wrote: " While the holy house was on fire, everything was plundered that came to hand, and ten thousand of those that were caught were slain; nor was there a commiseration of any age, or any reverence of gravity, but children, and old men, and profane persons, and priests were all slain in the same manner; so that this war went round all sorts of men, and brought them to destruction, and as well those that made supplication for their lives, as those that defended themselves by fighting… the blood was larger in quantity than the fire, and those that were slain more in number than those that slew them; for the ground did nowhere appear visible, for the dead bodies that lay on it…"
Throughout the Jewish world on the night of Tisha B'Av this week, the lights will be turned off and we will count 1956 years since the destruction of the Temple, meaning that the Jewish count begins in the year 68 CE. But we know clearly that the destruction occurred in the year 70 (which means 1954 years). This reflects the difference between a "moral" and chronological count. As far as our sages are concerned, the Temple was destroyed two years before it was burned. If the nation is divided and each side sees the other as an enemy worse than the real enemy at the gate, then there is nothing to defend. They expressed this in the Talmud when they said that when the conqueror entered the Temple, he was haughty and proud of his victory: "A divine voice emerged and said to him: 'Your haughtiness is unwarranted, as you killed a nation that was already dead, you burned a sanctuary that was already burned, and you ground flour that was already ground.," The Talmud talks of Nebuzardan, the captain of the Babylonian guard that destroyed the First Temple, but it is quite clear that they were referring to the Second Temple era; their testimony went that far back! This is the main lesson from the destruction!
2.
The destruction of the Temple was not only a religious event but also a national one. When we received the name Israel, the reason given was: "Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and men, and have prevailed" (Genesis 31:29). God and people, heaven and earth, kingdom and Temple. This is the depth of our third forefather's dream: "And he dreamed, and behold a ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven, and behold the angels of God ascending and descending on it" (ibid, 28:12). As we were about to become a people, we were designated with our historic mission: to be a ladder connecting heaven and earth, to help humanity climb its stages from a materialistic society to a moral society, in which the fear of Heaven strengthens respect for the existing order but is not afraid of dynamism and change, since the ladder (Jacob himself!) is not static – the angels ascend and descend it and there is mutual responsibility between the worlds.
The destruction of the land and the exile – a process that took hundreds of years – constituted a clear threat to the continuity of the people. The first exile after the Babylonian destruction (586 BCE) was brief by historical standards, and even then the fear of assimilation and the disappearance of the people was palpable. The exiles, as they sat on the river in Babylon saw how neighboring peoples (Edomites, Moabites, etc.) assimilated into Babylonian society and lost their identity. They turned to their spiritual leader and expressed their despair: "Our bones are dried up, our hope is gone; we are doomed" (Ezekiel 37:11). They thought they were the last generation. But then the prophet Ezekiel had his vision of dry bones, which promised to lift the people out of exile (the national grave). Less than fifty years later, the Edict of Cyrus called on the Jews to return to Jerusalem.
3.
After the second destruction, our sages understood that things would take longer. All in all, 1878 years passed between the destruction of Jerusalem and the establishment of the State of Israel. No other people in history has undergone such a long national death, survived persecution, expulsions, and a terrible Holocaust that destroyed a third of its number, to then be resurrected in its historic homeland. This required a long-term vision.
Our sages realized that the way to preserve the national core was through the religious framework. It is impossible to tell a people who were exiled from their land, lost their language, and faced extraordinary difficulties in their lives, to remember where they came from and to where they were destined to return – and hope that this memory would last for two thousand years. Such a memory lasts a generation or two and then remains only in books that few people know. For this purpose, memory must be a religious obligation, part of the daily routine of the Jew in the service of his God.
4.
One of the things that struck me at the beginning of my term as ambassador to Italy was the absence of a continuity between the Italians and the Roman Empire, which existed in their land for about a thousand years. In the Italian consciousness, the roots of the nation date back to about the beginning of the 14th century with the publication of Dante Alighieri's masterpiece, The Divine Comedy in 1300. It was then tiny buds of national consciousness began to sprout and they grew for some 500 years until the middle of the 19th century with the unification of Italy. The Roman Empire is not part of the roots of modern Italy, and there is no aspect of their lives that is reminiscent of the empire – except for Benito Mussolini, who wanted to renew the empire as part of his fascist outlook.
In contrast, our sages assimilated the memory of Jerusalem into every aspect of the life of the nation. Under the canopy ("chuppah") we break a glass and vow to remember Jerusalem; thus raising it to our chief joy. Three times a day we pray for the building of Jerusalem and the return to Zion. The direction of prayer is towards the city, a place of yearning that many generations never got to know. When we build a house, we leave a small corner unwhitewashed, a sign that as long as the national home was destroyed, the private home is also incomplete. Even when we bless our food, we add something that does not exist in parallel blessings elsewhere in the world. In addition to thanking God for our food, our sages added a call for the rebuilding of Jerusalem. Thus they created the concept that just as the individual cannot live without food, the nation cannot live without the city of the Temple and the monarchy.
5.
And then there is Tisha B'Av. Throughout our long history, our troubles have been concentrated on this day, pointing to their root: the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple, the exile and loss of independence. Our sages took the afflictions of Yom Kippur and instituted them on Tisha B'Av – a one-day fast, a prohibition of wearing leather shoes, of washing and anointment, and distancing ourselves from intimate relations – for if the harmony between the people and its land and its God has been violated, we should also behave and be afflicted in this manner once a year. In so doing, they equated the private soul-searching on the 10th of Tishrei (Yom Kippur) with the soul-searching of the nation on Tisha B'Av.
The constant memory vividly preserved our national core, even though it was dormant. And so, towards the end of the 19th century, when talk began of a return of the people home to Zion, not much had to be explained since everything was prepared like a spring that was cocked for two thousand years, and at the moment of truth was released and changed history from exile to redemption, from destruction to resurrection and from darkness to great light. This is even more true today in light of the existential battle we are undergoing. We have lived under almost all empires, experienced great disasters, wandered and lived everywhere in the world, and have overcome. With God's help, we will overcome the current challenge as well. The Jewish people are living proof of humanity's hope to extract itself from its troubles and build a better future. We shall remember this even more on Tisha B'Av this year. Am Yisrael Chai. The People of Israel lives.
