Our current war is an existential struggle over Jewish survival and Jewish identity. The curtain has been lifted as our enemies no longer speak about territories and politics but about our basic right to a Jewish state. For the first time since 1948, the appalling claim that Israel doesn’t have a right to exist has been normalized. Our battle has little to do with boundaries and territories or the right of Palestinian return. It is an existential struggle over the State of Israel.
Not incidentally, in this war over Jewish identity, our core value system is being contested. Cynically, ironically,and without any factual basis, we are being maligned for supposedly violating foundational values of Judaism.
A Moral Society
Judaism aspires to a life of morality and to the preservation of human dignity. Our moral spirit is inspired by a divine moral code. Despite centuries of hatred and discrimination, we are not misanthropic and continue to pursue welfare for all humanity. We have raised an army which adheres to a strict ethical code known as tohar haneshek—literally, “purity of the gun.” This doctrine demands that our soldiers preserve life and protect the dignity of every human being, especially innocent civilians. We have a moral army, and our soldiers risk their lives to conduct war in a moral fashion.
Yet, insidiously, we are accused of both overseeing an apartheid state and of conducting an immoral war of genocide. The State of Israel is the antithesis of apartheid: It offers full legal rights and protection to every race, religion, ethnicity and sexual orientation, despite the challenging security conditions we collectively face.
Since the inception of the Jewish state, our Arab population has flourished, expanding 15-fold, despite the fact that many Arab citizens of Israel harbor strong sympathies for sworn enemies of our state. Additionally, in the interest of minimizing civilian casualties, our army maintains ethical standards which far exceed those of other armies. If these labels of “apartheid” and “genocide” weren’t so venomously and violently launched at us, their mention would be comical.
We cannot allow haters to tag us as immoral or unethical. We must maintain our inner conviction and our unwavering belief in the ethical society we have created and the morality of our army.
Occupiers? Really?
We are also being falsely maligned as colonialist occupiers of indigenous people. Hashem delivered the Land of Israel to our avot and Jewish presence in these lands has continued uninterrupted since well before any of their current residents arrived in this region.In the more recent past, our people returned home to Israel through international license, seeking peace with our neighbors. Immediately upon our return, though, Arabs launched a vicious war of annihilation against us, which continues to this day.
European colonization was driven by the desire for affluence and power and sapped weaker countries of their wealth and natural resources, while violently subjugating innocent populations. We aren’t parasites leeching local resources but are providing growth and opportunity. Every Arab country which has accepted Jewish presence in this region has shared in our prosperity.
Labeling us as colonialists is baseless propaganda and it is humiliating to watch people of supposed intelligence mindlessly spew such disinformation. We cannot allow these false and malicious labels to shape our identity or our attitude about our return to Israel and our valiant efforts to restore peace to a region which has been scarred for centuries by war and violence.
During this war, foundational values of Jewish identity are under siege. In addition to our military response, we must maintain our own moral clarity.
The Chosen People
In addition to these false distortions, our people are also being mocked and sneered at for viewing ourselves as the “chosen people.” In an era of widespread democracy and egalitarianism, the notion of a chosen people feels offensive and bigoted. Our enemies ridicule us for our arrogance and the holier-than-thou attitude implied by this term.How do we respond to these claims of arrogance? Isn’t the concept of being chosen bigoted? Don’t we share 99% of the same DNA as non-Jews? Is it immoral or arrogant to view ourselves as a chosen race? A lot depends on whether we view ourselves as chosen “from” or chosen “for.”
Chosen for a Mission
Pinchas was the hero of a new generation that had survived the desert and was now perched on the doorstep of Israel. A terrible plague ravaged the nation and had already claimed 24,000 lives. The disaster was caused by a public mutiny fomented by Zimri, a Jewish leader who was acting promiscuously in a public setting. Pinchas interceded, halted the plague and stemmed the carnage. For his heroism, he was divinely awarded with a life of hardship!
As a kohen, he would now live with greater commandments and less comfort. As a kohen, he would never own land and would constantly face a life of financial deprivation. As a kohen, he adopted more mitzvot and greater restrictions. He was now committed to a life of idealism and of mission. As a kohen, he was now tasked with inspiring others and facilitating their own spiritual journeys.
Pinchas wasn’t selected for privilege or comfort. His selection brought numerous rights and privileges but, more importantly, imposed more responsibility, restriction and obligation. He was chosen “for” a mission, not chosen “from” the rest of the nations for privilege.
Jews are, similarly, chosen “for” and not chosen “from.” We were selected by Hashem to live a more commanded lifestyle and to model the value of seven mitzvot through our commitment to 613 mitzvot. Exploring the hypothetical possibility that a food might be forbidden to a non-Jew but permissible to a Jew, the Gemara (Sanhedrin 59a) responds incredulously: Jewish selection at Sinai increased Jewish religious commitment. The possibility that a Gentile adopts greater stringency is inconceivable.
We are chosen for greater commitment and to inspire spirituality in others. Hashem selected us for a mission and to redeem a fallen and dark world. As we accepted this divine mission, we are loved and cherished by Hashem, were awarded his word and His Torah, and are expected to shape our lives in His image. Furthermore, we are expected to disseminate that knowledge and moral spirit to an entire world. Being chosen isn’t arrogance and isn’t a sign of Jewish bigotry: It is a badge of honor that carries great responsibility.
A Culture of Rights
Yet the world can’t and won’t appreciate the concept of being chosen for duty. All it sees in us is arrogance. Our modern culture of democracy stresses human rights. Democracy has bred a culture that has become obsessed with the pursuit and preservation of human rights. In this milieu, the notion of chosenness implies greater benefits—and of course greater benefits appears to be bigoted and arrogant. Why should one people or one race receive more than another race?
Human beings are not meant to be creatures of rights but creatures of duty. Sadly, society has lost that vision and cannot imagine a people chosen for greater duty and greater commitment.
To be fair, we too often forget the higher meaning of being chosen. For centuries it was impossible to envision our role of inspiring humanity. We were persecuted and marginalized. Struggling for our survival, we couldn’t fathom the prospect of inspiring the world to religious behavior. Now that we have returned to historical relevance, we must once again fully understand our own chosenness.
Chosen “for” not chosen “from.” Duty, not benefit. Be proud of your chosenness and live up to its expectations.
The writer is a rabbi at Yeshivat Har Etzion/Gush, a hesder pre-military yeshiva, with ordination from Yeshiva University and a master’s in English literature from CUNY. He is the author of Dark Clouds Above, Faith Below (Kodesh Press), which provides religious responses to Oct. 7.
