If there is something I allow myself to presume to know about among all the areas we have lately become very wise in, it is definitely "heroism." There are many things I do not understand. I do not understand academia, even though I have a bachelor's degree and I nearly succeeded in completing a master's degree. I do not understand the "big city" life, even though I lived in Kfar Saba for several years (I apologize, Kfar Saba, for calling you a big city. You will always be my little village), and even lived in Paris. I also do not really understand life abroad, even though my roots are there, and I still enjoy the perks of being a European who fluently speaks French.
However, I am confident I understand heroism. There are many types of heroes. Heroes in plain sight, and those that need a bit of polishing to reveal their heroism. The heroes of this war – those in Heaven and those on Earth. The heroes on the home front – who have no less heroism than those at the forefront, whether in their civilian care of our soldiers or in their maintaining of our sanity and day-to-day life. And there is certainly no doubt, at least for me, that each and every one of us deserves a medal of honor for various reasons that go beyond what is reasonable and average in the world.
There are also other heroes who are currently dealing valiantly with a challenge that is not easily overcome, which we see primarily on our phones, computers, and televisions. Nevertheless, I think now is the right time to send encouragement and strength from here, the Holy Land, to our Jewish brethren in the diaspora. After watching the news, I am learning that being Jewish or Israeli in countries where, until recently, antisemitism could be hidden or downplayed is now becoming threatening and frightening.
It may sound surprising, but even today, while the world's universities are full of protesters or proclamations supporting the genocide of the Jewish people or intifada against them, there will be those who will continue to hold on to statements that this is not antisemitism, but rather sympathy for the Palestinian people suffering under the Jews' cruelty. That they are really peace activists whose only desire is world peace and who have not an ounce of ill will or personal vendetta against Jews; instead, they are only against imperialist Israel.
Better with a smile
But as time passes, it is difficult to ignore the blatant truth. A truth more than two million years old. And apart from a better disguise, nothing has changed about it, about this cursed antisemitism. Those who feel it more intensely today are our own flesh and blood all over the world. Those who devote time and much energy to hiding their origins and continuing to live their lives, and those who stand opposite the many protesters, holding Israeli flags and singing in Hebrew.
We, the Israeli Jews, have a habit that I find very annoying: when we hear about the increasing antisemitism in the world, we immediately, with a mix of concern and a hint of arrogance, say, "So let them make Aliyah." And it is entirely understandable.
After all, it is well known that one of the most significant reasons for the accelerated establishment of the State of Israel was the brutal antisemitism against the Jews in exile. And, to a certain extent, Israel's role is to serve as a refuge and safe haven for every Jew in the world, whoever they may be.
Despite the many dangers involved in living in the Holy Land, I think that there is definitely more freedom in being a free Jew in Israel than in any other country in the world – especially these days. Yet, I believe that it is not fitting that this should be our response to our Jewish brethren in the diaspora. We have been persecuted, and perhaps we will always be persecuted, but what kind of response is it to someone in distress – to demand that they leave their home and run for their lives? Why?
Why is this the correct response to antisemitism in the world? And especially now, when some of us have experienced or are still experiencing this escape and the isolation it brings. To clarify, I do not believe today that a mass Aliyah to Israel, due to doubt and the fear of living abroad, is a good enough reason to live here, neither in times of war nor prosperity.
I prefer our immigrants with their heads held high and a smile, looking to the future they dream of building in the Holy Land. Not with bewildered faces looking back to where they were forced to flee from with fear and trembling. And just as it should be the choice of a Jew whether or not to make Aliyah to Israel, so should be the choice whether to live abroad, whether for academic studies or any other need or desire. Why should Jews wishing to acquire an education at one university or another in the world, for their reasons, need to feel as if they have done something wrong – not because their university did not meet their expectations, but instead because they are Jewish? Why should just being Jewish be a burden they should bear?
The situation in the world's universities lately is a tremendous moral disgrace. Still, in my eyes, it is another civilian front that we, the citizens of the Jewish state, need to strongly support with our spirit and essence, making them feel that they are not alone in this fight. That we see them, appreciate them, and recognize them for their resilience, and do not, even for a moment, underestimate their bravery during this difficult time.
Since the beginning of the war, many diaspora Jews opened their hearts and pockets to significantly supporting us here in Israel. They donated and reached out to other partners, resonated our plight, and bore the heavy burden of the war, each and every one in their own way. And they did it for one simple reason – because they are Jews. Brothers. It is appropriate that now when they are in distress, we should be the ones standing by their side in every possible way. It is only fitting that the People of Israel in the Holy Land should be what they are intended to be for Jews around the world: a sturdy pillar to lean on, a savior.
