Dear Chaverim,
This past week has seen heightened violence against Jewish targets around the world. Toronto synagogues have been shot at. A synagogue in Belgium was damaged by an explosion. One in Norway was closed for an investigation into suspicious behavior. There was an active shooter at a Reform temple and pre-school in Michigan. This wave of antisemitic violence follows not long after the tragedies of Bondi Beach and Manchester, which were part of the longer arc of hatred that has targeted Jewish communities since 7 October 2023.
In previous weeks, we have looked at how hate speech in news and social media have contributed to the increase of antisemitism at home and abroad. This week we look at how physical acts of violence are part of this cycle of conflict, targeting Jewish people solely on the basis of their Jewish identity. We need to navigate through two crosscurrents – the war of protests and incendiary words, and the war of bullets and incendiary devices – if we are to find our way safely through this troubled torrent of Jewish history.
The continuum of conflict that ranges from Hamas’ attack that started the war in Gaza at one extreme to shootings aimed at synagogues on other continents at the other is subtle, but very real. We in Vancouver are acutely aware of how real it is; less than two years ago, someone set fire to our synagogue just after services. The fire damage to our building and the bullet holes in Toronto synagogues differ from the missiles, bullets, and incendiaries of Hamas, Hezbollah, and Iran only by degree, not by type. Such is the ideological economy of terrorism; it leverages a small investment of materiel to achieve a total disruption of everyday life.
To put things in perspective, consider what happened after 9/11. In the days following the al-Qaeda attack on America, Jewish institutions went on high alert. However, it was not as if anyone rationally thought that al-Qaeda, after targeting the political, financial, and military hubs of America – which clearly involved major planning and resources – was going to strike its next blow on the Jewish day schools or JCC of Vancouver. If anything, at worst, there might have been sympathetic attacks like we are seeing today after 7 October. While many individuals panicked, cooler heads prevailed. The community stayed open, with increased security.
Today, the same kind of risk assessment argues that we need to increase our vigilance. In part, there have been more small-scale, widely dispersed acts of violence against Jewish communities in the aftermath of 7 October than after 9/11. In 2001, the Intifada was mainly in the Holy Land; today it has become globalized. In part, this stems from an escalating propaganda and hate speech war against Jews and Israel since 7 October. This has been enabled via deployment of AI and social media that did not exist in 2001.
Like the day after 9/11, the string of facts-on-ground today can drive people away from attending services, even entering the building. No rabbi, community leader, or security professional will be able to tell you there are no threats targeting the Jewish communities of Canada, America, and Europe. The intersection of the two crosscurrents of today’s antisemitism – i.e., the military chain of command from Iran to its proxies, and the ideological elements who use hate speech that inspires lone actors to shoot at Jews – are by design complicated and chaotic. In this uncertain moment, evidence is scarce, and assumptions about these factors are prudent but entirely speculative.
Dealing with the root causes of antisemitism will take time and depend on many factors and resources that do not yet exist. For now, the best we can do is increase our vigilance. In Michigan the security procedures and police cooperation saved lives. Here in Vancouver, we also have several layers of security – nearly the maximum that can be applied within our legal framework. We also have strong support and presence from the Vancouver Police Department.
Living under threat is more intimidating than it is lethal. During COVID everyone learned how painful it was to live in isolation without most of our communal support networks. Jewish communities have known this for centuries. This Shabbat we will read Parshat Hachodesh, the last of the four special parshiyot leading to Pesach. It details the establishment of the Jewish calendar and the sacrifice of the very first Passover, better known as Pesach.
The story of the first Pesach is very much the story of the Jewish people today. The first step to attaining freedom and nationhood required taking a risk. Each family cluster was told to take a lamb for the family. That lamb was to be sequestered for five days, then slaughtered, and then roasted whole, outside, on the night of the Pesach. Its blood was then taken to mark the doorposts. The Torah had told us previously that the Jews were loath to do ritual sacrifice in Egypt because the lamb was a holy symbol for the Egyptians; sacrificing a lamb in public would inspire hatred and retribution. Thus, every family that took a lamb did so at great risk. Marking their homes with the blood of the lamb put them at greater risk.
At the same time, their show of faith created an identity, which at once brought them closer to Gd and to each other. It also broke the psychological hold of intimidation that the Egyptians held over them during the years of slavery. For centuries thereafter Jews have been sacrificing for Pesach. The Conversos in Spain did their best to get invited to a family seder in the years before the Inquisition. In Poland, children who had drowned in frozen lakes were discovered in the spring thaw which coincides with Pesach. The antisemites turned this coincidence into a blood libel, falsely claiming both causation and correlation to the Passover ritual represented by matzah and wine. Nonetheless, our ancestors did not give up matzah and wine in fear of these deadly accusations. Soviet refuseniks struggled mightily to obtain matzah, despite the prospect of arrest, imprisonment in the gulags, or even execution. There are remarkable stories of matzot being baked in Bergen Belsen (see Haggadah of Rav Yosef Tzvi Rimon).
In biblical times, Amalek’s terror project naively assumed that the Jews would become עיף ויגע [tired and exhausted] enough to be easy prey for elimination. Today’s Iranian terror project naively assumes that under the fear of persecution the Jews will similarly become tired and exhausted of the struggle. It assumes that such a tactic will pave the way for the ultimate goal of the Iranian Islamic Revolution – the end of Israel.
These two factors – the Pesach matzah and wine, and how our mortal enemies have repeatedly failed to eliminate us – underscore why Jews everywhere, regardless of religious, ideological, or cultural beliefs and practices are one people. We do not, cannot, merely stand behind Israel. We stand with Israel, because we have always resolved to stand as one.
Our resolve is our purpose now. Our place is together, and our future is in our hands – not in the hands of those who seek our destruction or in the hands of those who choose to stand idly by. They don’t get to decide who comes into our buildings as members, friends, or guests. Only we do. The leadership of our community, working in concert with a responsive and supportive police force, are continually assessing and adjusting as much as possible the safety and security of our institutions. It is up to all of us to do our part to show up and stand together as only we can.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Rosenblatt and Dr. Terry Neiman
