Tag: hope

Hatikvah (the hope) and my Palestinian Friends

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

I remember being in high school and learning the ancient Chinese curse, “May you live in interesting times.” and thinking to myself, what could be better than interesting times?  I hate being bored, so interesting times would be exciting and fun.

Ah, the naivety of the young. 

These are interesting times and as such are not so wonderful times.  The rise of hatred over the past decade is frightening.  The rise of antisemitism over the same time period and the exponential growth in the past 6 months is overwhelming.  I read and listen to so much discussion and none of it seems to focus on the real challenge and the real solution.

We have been taught not to like each other.  We have been taught that ‘the other’ is against us, will harm us, and that if they get what they want, we won’t get what we need.  This seems to be fairly universal, regardless of who you are and who ‘the other’ is.  We villainize them.  We make broad generalizations about them.  We make assumptions about them.  The one thing we don’t do is actually engage with people who are different from us.  That one thing we don’t do is the one thing that we need to do.

In November 2019, I had the honor and privilege of participating on an Encounter Immersive Experience.  We spent 4 days meeting with, listening to, and learning from members of Palestinian civil society.  I said it and used the word – Palestinian.  So let’s set some ground rules for the rest of this post. 

  1. The Palestinian people do exist.  They may have had different names over the years from Arabs to Bedouins, to Palestinians.  We, as Jews, used to be called Hebrews and Israelites.  Accept the fact that these people do exist, they live in what I will call ‘Greater Israel’, and aren’t going anywhere.
  • As a result of the 1967 war, Israel conquered territories.  This happens in many wars and is a reality of millenniums.  The area on the west bank of the Jordan River has different names.  For purposes here I am going to call is Judea and Samaria, the ancient names for that land.  Some may call in the West Bank.  Some may call it Palestine.  I am calling it Judea and Samaria.
  • Hamas, Hezbollah, and the Palestinian Authority (PA) are evil.  Most Palestinian people don’t like them.  I will discuss this later in this post however understand that there is a difference between Palestinian people and terrorists.  If you insist on generalizing that they are all people or are all terrorists, you can stop reading here if you want.  There is a difference.

Now back to my 4 days with leaders of Palestinian Civil Society.  I remember thinking how 4 days seemed so short.  This is such a complex issue; how could we only spend 4 days with them?  There were 4 of the most intense days of my life.  By the third day I was grateful that it was only 4 days because on how intense they were. 

During these 4 days, which I wrote about at the time, and you can find about 17 blog postings in the beginning of this blog from that time period, I had the ability to meet with many different people.  I had a chance to ask questions, listen to other points of view, and listed to people who had an entirely different history and narrative than I do.  I met people who I really like and stay in touch with even today.  I met people who I despised and who I am sure despised me only because I am Jewish.  I met people whose effort to change and challenge everything that they know were inspiring.  I met people who are a direct cause for the increase in hate, terrorism, and everything that led up to October 7th.  I saw things that made me sad.  Some were out of necessity, and some were simply terrible government policy.  It was a life altering experience that only made me a stronger and more powerful Zionist but also made me a better human being because I began a journey of understanding some of the deep challenges and how much work it will take to find a solution, to make peace, and to get beyond the damage that has been done in the past so that we can live in a different future.

I have written a lot about how October 7th has impacted and changed me.  I wrote about what seeing the 47-minute Hamas video was like.  Recently I saw the documentary about the massacre at the Nova Music Festival and I shared what that was like.  The past 6 months have been focused mostly on being a Jew in today’s world and in the United States.  It has been focused on the challenge of being a Zionist, loving Israel, in a world that is openly hostile, willingly believes lies and knowingly uses inflammatory language that is not accurate.  I have paid attention to my friends called up in the reserves, their children, either called up or who are currently serving in the IDF.  What I haven’t done is think too much about my Palestinian friends and what life has been like for them.

Over the past few weeks, I have been talking a lot with various people about the future.  As the US is demanding a permanent ceasefire and a 2 state solution (Hamas is the obstacle to the ceasefire as they have openly called for more October 7th massacres and still are holding hostages), I found myself thinking about who would be that partner for peace.  Obviously, Israel and the government have to make their own changes and hopefully that will come soon.  But what about the partner?  Who would it be? It’s not Hamas or Hezbollah.  It can’t be the Palestinian Authority (PA) who not only is corrupt and whose people hate them, still has not condemned the October 7th massacre nor have they had elections in 19 years!  So again, who can this partner be?

I found myself thinking of my friend Ali Abu Awwad, founder of Taghyeer, the Palestinian National Nonviolence Movement.  I met Ali on that trip and was amazing at what he said.  There was real leadership about building a country that would live in peace with Israel.  The line he said that I will always remember is, “Peace will not come through Jewish blood.  It will come through Jewish hearts.”  He then added, “we need to prove to the Jewish people that they can trust us because we have only showed them that they cannot.” 

Ali and me together when he visited Orlando and spoke to our community.

Imagine leaders who are not calling for ‘intifada’ or ‘jihad’ but instead are calling for peace and understanding.  Imagine leaders who came from a place of hatred and have overcome it to work with Jews, with Israeli, to build a better society.  Imagine a leader whose mother was a high-ranking PLO leader, who spent time in an Israeli prison at the same time as his mother and was able to move beyond hatred.  Imagine a leader whose brother was killed by the IDF and found peace and acceptance by spending time with a Rabbi whose son was killed by terrorists.  That is Ali Abu Awwad.  Just before Covid shut the world down, Ali spoke in Orlando.  The room was at least half Israeli.  They were primed for a fight.  They were primed to hear somebody blame Israel and make the Palestinians innocent victims.  They didn’t get what they expected.  They heard somebody taking responsibility for their part in the hate.  They heard somebody who gave hope for a different future. 

I realized I hadn’t reached out Ali in quite a while.  I hadn’t checked on him and asked how he was doing? then I began to think of some of the other Palestinian people that I met and considered friends.  I hadn’t reached out to them either.  What type of friend am I to be so overwhelmed with my own grief that I don’t check on my friends.  So I began doing so.  I reached out to Ali and am awaiting his reply.

I reached out to my friend Mahmoud.  His family owns the Educational Bookshop in East Jerusalem.  I spent a day with Mahmoud in 2019 walking around East Jerusalem, visiting the Palestinian theater, learning about the Palestinian arts community, and having coffee and a conversation at the bookshop.  We finished the day at his home with another deep conversation.  I wrote about that day in this blog post.

The day with Mahmoud was difficult and very meaningful. It is something that I think about regularly because of the power of his words.  He is not a fundamentalist.  He does not hate Jews.  He does not want the destruction of Israel.  He wants to live freely.  He wants a government that represents him and takes care of him.  It was very difficult to hear him say that if there was a public works project in his neighborhood, he wouldn’t ask the municipality of Jerusalem to fix it because they wouldn’t.  And he wouldn’t/couldn’t ask the PA to fix it because even if they could, they wouldn’t.  He felt helpless so he would just get people together to fix it himself or live with it being broken. 

Mahmoud and the Educational Bookshop. I look forward to returning for another cup of coffee with him.

He talked about how challenging it was for him to be in West Jerusalem and how he felt there, how uncomfortable and that he was a focus of constant attention.  He shared how he didn’t feel he belonged or was welcome there and how much that bothered him.  It bothered him so much that he didn’t like going.  He talked about how he would go to Tel Aviv, and he felt he didn’t stand out, he wasn’t a focus of attention like he was in West Jerusalem.  And how that both made him feel welcome and how it also troubled him – why was it so different?  He could disappear in Tel Aviv and just be a person while he felt he couldn’t do that in West Jerusalem.  It didn’t sit well with me then – that’s not the Israel I love – yet with the rise of antisemitism in the past six months I have begun to understand it in a way that is very uncomfortable.

I watch what is happening in places like New York, California, Michigan, and Canada, and feel very uncomfortable and unwelcome as a Jew.  This isn’t the America that I love.  There are places around the world that I won’t visit now as a Jew.  This isn’t the world that I want to live in.

I think often of something that Mahmoud said to us in his home.  He said that if Zionism means that the Jews have a claim to the land and that the Palestinians also have a claim to the land, then he supports Zionism.  It was incredibly powerful when he said it and even more powerful today.  When a Palestinian man living in East Jerusalem can come to that type of understanding, it gives me great hope for the future.  Zionism isn’t colonialism.  It isn’t racism.  It is the belief that the Jews have a right to self-determination in our historic homeland.  In fact, the Declaration of Independence has some very clear definitions in it that need to be highlighted.  They include:

This right is the natural right of the Jewish people to be masters of their own fate, like all other nations, in their own sovereign State.

Simply put, we have a right to our own sovereign State and self-determination.  It’s very clear.

THE STATE OF ISRAEL will be open for Jewish immigration and for the Ingathering of the Exiles; it will foster the development of the country for the benefit of all its inhabitants; it will be based on freedom, justice and peace as envisaged by the prophets of Israel; it will ensure complete equality of social and political rights to all its inhabitants irrespective of religion, race or sex; it will guarantee freedom of religion, conscience, language, education and culture; it will safeguard the Holy Places of all religions; and it will be faithful to the principles of the Charter of the United Nations.

While Israel is a Jewish state, it is a place for everybody who lives there.  It is based on freedom, justice and peace – this language is very different from the charter of Hamas and the PLO.  And it guarantees social and political rights to all.  Unlike Hamas, Hezbollah, Iran and others, we do not want to a place for us alone. 

WE APPEAL – in the very midst of the onslaught launched against us now for months – to the Arab inhabitants of the State of Israel to preserve peace and participate in the upbuilding of the State on the basis of full and equal citizenship and due representation in all its provisional and permanent institutions.

Full and equal citizenship and due representation.  Powerful words.  Powerful ideals. 

WE EXTEND our hand to all neighboring states and their peoples in an offer of peace and good neighborliness, and appeal to them to establish bonds of cooperation and mutual help with the sovereign Jewish people settled in its own land. The State of Israel is prepared to do its share in a common effort for the advancement of the entire Middle East.

That last line is so important, especially during these times.  While we may not have a current partner for peace with the Palestinians, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do our part to find one.  The Abraham Accords and potential normalization with Saudia Arabia and Indonesia create even more opportunities.  We cannot let the horrors of the past stop us from the beauty of the future.  When I think of Mahmoud’s words back in 2019 and Ali’s passion and mission, that’s what I find myself going back to. 

We cannot let the horrors of the past stop us from the beauty of the future.

Ali and Mahmoud both want a world where people live in peace, together, building countries that care about their people.  They are both incredible leaders with a following.  We cannot afford to ignore them and let those who preach hate; Hamas, Hezbollah, Iran, the Palestinian Authority, etc., be in control. 

Mahmoud and I have been emailing and when I’m in Israel in May, we are planning for me to go visit him at his bookstore in East Jerusalem, walk around the neighborhood once again, talk, share a long cup of coffee or tea, maybe have lunch or dinner, and talk.  And talk.  And talk.  Learn from each other.  Deepen our friendship.  Because we both want the same thing.  A brighter future together.

One of my favorite people that I met on this trip was Mohammad.  I wrote about them in this blog post at the time.  He and his wife Hiba, and their baby son hosted us for dinner at their home in East Jerusalem.  They come from an amazing family.  Hiba’s family is the Muslim family that holds the keys to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. It’s an amazing story and if you don’t know it, you can begin to read about it here.  They both had Master’s degrees.  She worked for the UN, he worked for an NGO that took him into Gaza on a monthly basis. We formed an instant connection and talked at length about the different challenges.  The fact that the PA hasn’t had elections since 2005.  How corrupt the PA is and how they do nothing for the people except steal money.  How if there ever were elections, they could never vote for the PA, meaning that even Hamas would be a better choice because MAYBE they would do something for them (we haven’t talked about that since October 7th and I look forward to it in the near future) while they know the PA won’t do anything.  I asked about them running for office and their response was demoralizing as they didn’t believe that they would win and if they did, they wouldn’t be able to do anything without being killed.

Mohammad, Hiba, their son and me at their home in East Jerusalem.

We made a promise to get together again on my next trip so he could take me to his favorite restaurants, bakeries, ice cream shops, and we could continue our conversation.  Covid delayed my next trip, but I reached out before it, only to learn that Mohammad and his family had moved to Japan where he was working on a Ph.D.  We haven’t been able to coordinate his trips back with my trips back yet, but in our last correspondence we are going to try later this summer when they will be there for a few months.  In the meantime, they have a new baby that I want to meet.  He offered his home for me to stay when I visit, and I plan to take him up on the offer.  This is a beautiful family.  Wonderful people.  True friends.  And Palestinians.  It is possible. 

The last friend from this trip that I have been in contact with is a woman named Suzan.  She is a Palestinian Christian who lives in Bethlehem.  She also hosted us at her home for dinner where we had an amazing conversation.  She worries about the declining number of Christians in Bethlehem.  She worries about the role of women in Bethlehem.  She is privileged because she also has a German passport so is able to travel much easier. 

Suzan (far left in the black dress) and four of us at her home for dinner.

Suzan is an artist and runs an art studio.  The Bethlehem Fair Trade Artisans shop is an amazing place highlighting a variety of artists, mostly women, and I encourage you to check it out and if you see something you like, to purchase it. (Full disclosure – I encourage you to purchase as much as you can from Israeli artists and Israeli businesses. I have purchased many pieces from Israeli artists since October 7th. If you need help finding Israeli artists or businesses, please let me know and I’ll be happy to share my favorites and many others with you.)

Her focus is on women artists and fair-trade practices.  She was very frustrated that she was being told by the city government that her future shows and community events could not include Jewish women.  She told us that she didn’t care what they said, she was still going to invite the Jewish women to participate.  And she was going to continue to sell the works of Jewish women artists in her shop.  She didn’t care what they said, she was going to do what was right.  What was moral.  What was ethical.

Put those words together.  Moral.  Ethical.  Palestinian.  Generalizations simply don’t work.  There are terrorists.  There are people who hate and are evil.  I have met many of them, especially on that trip in 2019.  There are also many good people.  Great people.  Caring people.  People who you’d want as your neighbor.  As your friend. 

I hope to see Suzan either in May or later this year.  When I met her, it was just after she harvested her Olive trees so I saw the harvest.  Maybe this time I can see the trees filled with olives, filled with life.  Wouldn’t that be an incredible symbol.

Suzan with her harvest of olives from her trees

These are four examples of wonderful, amazing people.  People I call friends.  People I would be honored to have as neighbors.  People I trust.  Good people. 

I met terrorists.  You can read about my lunch with a member of Hamas, a murderer, and a member of the Al Aqsa Brigade in this post.  There is a difference between my friends who are Palestinian and the terrorists.  And I met people who were terrorists and are on a journey towards something different.  There is hope for the future but only if we are willing to do something different than the past.  That difference isn’t just up to us but it can start with us.  We can change our language.  We can use our contacts to meet Palestinians who want peace, who don’t hate, who don’t support Hamas or the PA, who will invite you into their home, share a meal, a coffee, and who you will come to really like.  We can help them rise up and together we can ensure the terrorists aren’t in power, don’t have the ability to kill Jews and oppress the Palestinian people. 

I’m not being pollyannish.  I’m not being naïve.  I am being hopeful.  I am talking about creating a systemic change.  I’m talking about taking action to stop the funding to UNRWA and the PA.  Ensure a new government ‘of the people, by the people, and for the people’ is set up in Gaza (sound familiar?)  We can lobby our government to force elections in Judea and Samaria, so Abbas’s 4-year term finally comes to an end before he serves 20 years of a 4 year term.  We can encourage the leaders in Israel to work with these leaders who want peace in a methodical manner to build trust.  As Ronald Reagan famously said, ‘Trust, but verify’. 

The Israeli national anthem is Hatikvah, the hope.  Let’s make sure we don’t lost hope.  Then the terrorists win and we all lose. 

IDF soldiers singing Hatikvah after October 7th just before they prepare to enter Gaza and defend Israel.

I look forward to sharing stories, pictures, and maybe even some videos and conversations with my Ali, Mahmoud, Mohammad and Hiba, and Suzan.  As deeply as October 7th has damaged and changed me, I won’t let it drive out hope.  Hope in the good people.  Hope for a better future.  And in the words of Theodore Herzl, “If you will it, it is no dream.”  I’m going to put the work in.  I hope you decide to as well.

PS

I came across this video of IDF soldiers rapping about the lies that are told about them. It’s very powerful and timely.

Sadly, it was recorded 10 years ago, showing that these allegations have a long rooted basis in antisemitism, Jew hatred, and bigotry. Enjoy the video as it’s powerful.

Where were you when the world stopped turning?

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

I have written extensively about how behind the times I am when it comes to music.  I recently discovered the 2001 song by Alan Jackson, Where were you? (when the world stopped turnin’).  He wrote it about September 11, 2001 not long afterwards and performed it only 10 days later at the Country Music Awards (CMAs).  I find it very impactful, not just as it reminds me of what I felt and was going through after 9/11 but also what I felt like on October 7th and continue to feel today.

Jackson said that he had strong feelings and wanted to write something that expressed them without being political or partisan.  He wanted it to clearly reflect his thoughts and feelings.  This song accomplished that in an incredible manner.  Since October 7th, I have been writing to try to do the same.  When I heard this song and when I listened deeply to the lyrics, they not only speak about September 11th and the feelings afterwards but easily could reflect October 7th and afterwards.  Many Israeli artists have written songs about October 7th and after but I haven’t heard or seen a single American songwriter or singer with the exception of Bono and U2 changing the words of the song Pride: In the Name of Love to reflect October 7th instead of April 4 and the Supernova music festival.  You can see and hear the pain Bono is feeling.  I remember being incredibly moved when I heard it for the first time and even today, as I listen to it, it brings tears to my eyes.   I wish they would re-release it with altered lyrics. 

Where were you when the world stopped turnin’
That September day?
Were you in the yard with your wife and children
Or workin’ on some stage in L.A.?

Most people know where they were on September 11, 2001 as it is part of our American psyche.  I know where I was.  Who I was talking to.  What TV station I was watching.  Where I was when the first tower fell.  Where I was when the 2nd tower fell.  Keeping in touch with my brother, who worked in NYC at that time, to check on his safety.  Being grateful that my dad wasn’t flying that day – he had flown the day before.  Running a Hillel meant I had students to attend to and their needs.  The pain everybody felt was palpable.  September 11th and days that followed were filled with hugs, tears, conversations, and questions. 

October 7th was very similar for me.  I remember exactly where I was, where I sat, what TV stations I watched, and who I was with.  I remember sending WhatsApp messages to friends and family in Israel to check on them.  The uncertainty of where the attacks were going to occur that day.  Was it just going to be near the Gaza envelope?  Were they going to be attacked from the north and Lebanon?  What was the PA going to do and would we see terrorists coming in from the East as well? 

There are moments in our lives that we never forget the details.  My wedding. The birth of my children.  Family simchas.  The last day I spent with my father before he died.  Three Mile Island (I lived nearby in Harrisburg at the time).  The assassination attempt on Ronald Reagan.  John Lennon and Yitzhak Rabin being assassinated.  9/11.  October 7th.  In one way or another, the world stopped turning on all of those days.  Some due to joy, some due to sadness.  How the world stopping turning impacted us and what we do with the changes that result is what’s key.


Did you stand there in shock at the sight of that black smoke
Risin’ against that blue sky?
Did you shout out in anger, in fear for your neighbor
Or did you just sit down and cry?

On 9/11, when the first plane hit the first tower, I remember thinking it was an accident.  We watched in horror but didn’t realize we were under attack.  It wasn’t until the second plane hit the second tower that the shock really hit.  Where was going to be next?  My brother worked in NYC and his building was attached to Grand Central Station.  Was that the next target?  My dad was supposed to fly that week and his flight was changed.  I tried to remember when it was changed.  Was it changed so that he was flying that day?  Was it the day before?  Was it the day after?  What about my friends who worked and lived in NY?  Then the plane was crashed into Shanksville, PA and then into the Pentagon.  Were there going to be more attacks?  If so, where?  How? 

On October 7th, I sat there in shock.  I couldn’t believe what I was watching and hearing.  As I communicated with friends and family in Israel, it didn’t get any better.  I shouted in anger, in fear for my friends and family.  I sat in shock at what I watched and as names were released, prayed that I didn’t know any of them and was also sad that these people, these members of my Jewish family, were killed or taken hostage.

I couldn’t move from my chair in front of the television.  I couldn’t change the channel.  I didn’t want to talk to anybody as I had nothing to say.  It was so unbelievable.  When I did talk, it was usually filled with anger at what happened, not understanding where the IDF was.  Not understanding how this was continuing as long as it was.  Not understanding how it even happened.  The more that was reported, the angrier I got at Hamas for doing it and for the Israeli government for missing the signs and for allowing it to happen.  I got angry at the Gazan people who were welcomed into the kibbutzim for work and ate dinner with the families that they sold out to Hamas, ensuring their death or kidnapping.

We all have our own way of dealing with this type of trauma.  Jackson’s point is that whatever we did, however we dealt with it, is what we needed.  He isn’t saying one is better than the other.  He isn’t saying if you didn’t do it his way, you were wrong.  It’s a recognition that however we dealt with 9/11 or with October 7th, it’s what we needed to do in the moment.  And that’s good enough.

Did you weep for the children, they lost their dear loved ones
Pray for the ones who don’t know?
Did you rejoice for the people who walked from the rubble
And sob for the ones left below?

On 9/11 it was common to weep for everybody.  Those who were killed.  Those who we didn’t know what happened.  The families of both.  We prayed for the yet to be born children who lost their father on 9/11.  And the children who lost one or both parents.  We celebrated those who managed to escape and to live.  And mourned those who didn’t.  We found heroes in the passengers that crashed the plane in Shanksville, PA instead of letting the terrorists crash it into what they wanted, which would have killed more people. 

October 7th seems to be viewed differently by many.  I recently saw the documentary about the SuperNova music festival.  These young people who were there to celebrate music were massacred by evil terrorists.  I saw the Hamas video which showed them celebrating the murder of civilians – the elderly, women, children, and adults.  Kfir Babis was taken hostage at less than a year old and his brother at 4 years old are forgotten by most of the world.  The American hostages have been forgotten by Americans and by our leaders.  In Israel, there is an uprising against the government for how they are handling the hostage crisis.  Families have been displaced for more than 5 months, both from the Gaza envelope and from the north, where Hezbollah is sending rockets every day into Israel. 

The trauma of Israelis is forgotten.  The trauma of the diaspora Jews is ignored.  The world weeps for the children of Gaza who are dying because of Hamas but ignores the children of Israel who died because of Hamas.  The Red Cross still hasn’t visited the hostages, 177 days later.  They haven’t received their medication in 177 days.  As the father of a child with Type 1 diabetes, I know what would happen if he went 177 days without insulin.  After 9/11, America stood together in support of those impacted and those who lost loved ones.  We stood together against evil.  When it comes to October 7th, that stand only lasted a few days before they became held responsible for their own victimization by evil.  It disgusts me.  When I listen to Alan Jackson sing these words, I find myself burning inside, wondering why it doesn’t apply to Jews.  Why does everybody else matter but we don’t.  How can people who supposedly stand for morals, ethics, justice, equality, and the like actually show how fraudulent they are and not be held accountable.

My heart breaks daily for the families of the current hostages.  It aches every day for the hostages that were released and their families, for what they must go through.  It hurts for the families of the victims and the survivors of the SuperNova music festival massacre.  I have a deep hole in my heart and my soul for everybody impacted by October 7th – the Jews, Bedouins, Arab-Israelis, Druze, Bhai’I, and the innocent Palestinians and people of Gaza (because there is a difference between the terrorists and the people).  I wish the world mourned with me and stood up against evil.  This verse reminds me that no matter how much we want to think that we can just fit in with society, we are always Jews first and the world will always look at us differently.  They will weep and cry out for anybody other than us.  They will mourn and fight for the rights of everybody other than us.  We are the only ones who will stand up for ourselves. 

The great Israeli leader Golda Meir had a number of quotes that reflects this reality.  They include:


Did you burst out with pride for the red, white, and blue
And the heroes who died just doin’ what they do?
Did you look up to heaven for some kind of answer
And look at yourself and what really matters?

After 9/11, American pride was as high as I have seen since the 1980 US Olympic Hockey team beat the Soviets and then won the gold medal.  We were united as Americans.  Nobody was going to stop us.  We were going to kill the terrorists, restore democracy, rule the world.  Our first responders were all heroes.  I remember the flag from the Twin Towers being flown at Yankee Stadium.  We begin singing ‘God Bless America’ in the 7th inning of baseball games.  We thanked our soldiers for their service. 

The flag from ground zero flying at Yankee Stadium in 2001

We looked to God for answers.  As a Hillel Director, it was an incredible time as students flocked to ask existential questions.  Nobody was afraid to ask a question and seem uneducated because everybody was asking questions.  People reassessed their lives, their values.  Seeing these widows and orphans, pregnant women who lost their husbands, hearing the recording from the planes, inspired us all to be better people.  “Let’s Roll”, said by Todd Beamer, before he and the other passengers on Flight 93 attacked the cockpit and the terrorists, crashing the plane into a field before it could be used as a weapon, was an inspiration to us all.  We asked ourselves what we would do, what could we do, if we were in a similar situation.

October 7th was different for the world.  As Jews, as Zionists, we asked where was the IDF.  We were united in our grief, not in our dominance.  We knew that Israel would respond, that war was here, and that Gaza would be devastated, but we took no pride in that.  We took no joy.  We wanted our hostages back.  We wanted our country back.  We wanted to dream of peace back.  We sang Hatikvah, ‘Hope’, the Israeli national anthem with hope for the safe return of the hostages, safety for the IDF soldiers who were going to war, hope that peace would come quickly.  The heroes we saw were ordinary people who raced into danger to help others. 

Bedouins like Ismail Al-Karnawi, who left Rahat with three other family members to head towards Kibbutz Be’eri in order to rescue residents from the inferno.  Sari Al-Karnawi, who served as a police officer at the Nova party and rescued partygoers from the attack. Muhammad Abu Najah, an employee of the cleaning company at Nova, who fought against the terrorists, called first responders, and warned others of the presence of terrorists. Omar Abu Sabeelah, who in Sderot heard a woman’s scream and saw Odaya Suissa with her two daughters, aged 6 and 3, and her husband Dolev who was shot dead by the terrorists. Despite being wounded, Sabeelah managed to reach the girls in the car and get them out to safety.  He later died from his injuries.  Yousef Alziyadneh, who saved the lives of approximately 30 Nova party revelers who were under fire. Anis Abu Dabbus, a senior paramedic crew at the Rahat Magen David Adom station, who acted with his crew in the Rahat and Ofakim area, treating the wounded and providing lifesaving treatment to many.

Heroes like retired general Noam Tibon, who got in his car with his wife and headed towards Kibbutz Nahal Oz, where his son, daughter-in-law, and two young granddaughters were hiding in their safe room as the Kibbutz was attacked and overtaken by Hamas terrorists.  Tibon encountered a battle between IDF soldiers and Hamas and picked up a weapon and helped defeat the terrorists.  He took 2 of the wounded soldiers to his wife who drove them to the hospital for treatment while he continued on foot until being picked up by another retired general who was answering the call and taken to the Kibbutz.  60 Minutes did a story on his heroism.

Countless other heroes like my friend Yaron Buskila, who left his house without a weapon to fight the terrorists and save lives.  Yaron shared a little of what it was like and that little bit that he shared showed me not just his bravery, but the bravery of so many Israelis; Jewish, Bedouin, Arab, and Christian on October 7th.

On October 7th we all looked to heaven for an answer.  An answer that will never come.  Instead, we began to question ourselves about what really matters.  What is important to us and how do we show that.  How do we reprioritize our lives around the things that matter instead of the things we thought mattered before October 7th.  It’s amazing to have lived in the post 9/11 world and the post October 7th world.  Two terrorist attacks.   Two tragedies.  Two horrible things.  Two very different outcomes and feelings.

I’m just a singer of simple songs
I’m not a real political man
I watch CNN, but I’m not sure I can tell you
The diff’rence in Iraq and Iran

I find this to be one of the most profound lines in the song.  So many of us don’t know what’s really going on.  We didn’t know who the Taliban was before 9/11.  We couldn’t tell you the difference between the Shiite country of Iran and the Sunni country of Iraq other than their rulers. 

The same holds true after October 7th but it’s even worse.  People don’t only know what Hamas and Hezbollah are, they don’t know that Gaza hasn’t been ‘occupied’ since 2005.  They use phrases like “From the River to the Sea” and don’t know what river or what sea they are talking about.  They use words like Apartheid and Genocide because they sound good and are powerful without understand the facts or definition of those words.  They talk about the high number of civilians that have been killed, not understanding that war is terrible and civilians are killed, but that Israel is nearly 9 times better than the norm in minimizing civilan deaths. Instead of addressing the evil of Hamas, people are feeding into ancient Jewish tropes and feeding global antisemitism. 

Israel-Hamas figures compared to the normal rates in war

I am concerned that this ignorance, this hate, will result in catastrophic events happening in the United States as we blame the victim and both encourage and allow the evil to grow. 


But I know Jesus and I talk to God
And I remember this from when I was young
Faith, hope, and love are some good things He gave us
And the greatest is love

One of my favorite things about Judaism is the way we look to God, to the Torah, for answers.  There are always lessons to learn.  Since October 7th I have spent much more time asking questions, learning Torah with Rabbis, and working to understand my role as a Jew in this world. 

There is a line in Pirkei Avot, the lessons of our fathers, that always speaks to me.  It comes from 2:16 and says that Rabbi Tarfon used to say, “It is not your duty to finish the work, but neither are you at liberty to neglect it.”  After October 7th this hit home in a very different way.  I am not a soldier and can’t fight with the IDF.  I am not an Israeli citizen.  I do not have the duty to finish the work of the war.  However, I am also not able to just neglect the situation and not do my part.  There are many ways to do my part and I have learned that there is much I can do.  We all have roles to play and our responsibility is not to do everything but rather to play our part, to do what we can.  Speak out.  Get educated.  Encourage others to learn and not just repeat things they hear.

We can also work to live with faith, hope, and love.  This doesn’t mean excuse the behavior of the terrorists or those who repeat the lies because they don’t know better.  We can have faith that Israel will defeat evil.  We can have faith in God and the IDF.  And we can focus on love.  Love of the Jewish people.  Love of our mishpacha (family).  Love of Israel.  Love of our family.  Love of the teachings of the Torah (which if you know me doesn’t sound like something I would say.)

In these terrible times, in these times of desperation, we can still live with faith, hope, and love.  We can choose to look to the future with positivity or negativity.  We can do our part to make the world a beautiful, better place or we can allow it to die.  The choice is ours.

Where were you when the world stopped turnin’
That September day?
Teachin’ a class full of innocent children
Or drivin’ down some cold interstate?

Did you feel guilty ’cause you’re a survivor?
In a crowded room did you feel alone?
Did you call up your mother and tell her you love her?
Did you dust off that Bible at home?

This verse reminds us that the world did stop turning on both 9/11 and on October 7th.  We don’t have to pretend that it didn’t.  President Bush was reading to a class full of innocent children.  We were all doing something when it happened, when we got the news. 

President Bush reading to children as terrorists attacked on 9/11

We don’t have to live with survivors’ guilt.  I wasn’t living in NY on 9/11 or in Israel on October 7th.  Why would I have survivors’ guilt?  Because I know people who were.  I know people who lost loved ones.  My life was altered only in the inconveniences I had to deal with after 9/11.  October 7th meant that I didn’t get to go to Israel in November like I had planned.  Yet the survivors’ guilt is real because I am part of a community.  While I am an American, Israel is my homeland.  I have a strong tie to Israel and my homeland, my love, was critically injured and damaged on October 7th.  That is where my survivors’ guilt comes from.  Because I haven’t been able to go to Israel since October 7th. 

There are plenty of times when I do feel alone.  People chanting antisemitic tropes.  Dressing in Nazi uniforms and flying Nazi flags.  When I see friends posting hateful comments that they don’t even necessarily understand are hateful and hurtful.  I have learned who my friends really are and who aren’t.  This can be painful but it’s also refreshing because I don’t have to include those people in my life any longer. 

After 9/11 I made sure to talk to my parents, my siblings, and my loved ones.  It was a reminder of how short life is.  The same thing happened after October 7th.  This type of brutality and horror reminds us how precious life is.  How limited our time really is.  What and who is really important to us.  Last week I reached out to my friends who are Palestinian and live in that area.  I wanted to see how they are doing.  I wanted to let them know I was thinking of them.  I wanted to let them know I consider them my friend no matter what is happening in the world.  And that I want to see them when I get to Israel in the near future because they matter.  I choose to live in faith, hope, and love, not in hate. 

After 9/11 people began asking questions about God and opened a door that had been closed for them.  October 7th was the same.  The opportunity to study, to learn, to ask questions, and to explore Judaism, God, and spirituality was there and many of us took it.  It opened me up to learning more, to being a better person, and to ask why I behave certain ways and is that reflective of the person I want to be.  We have an opportunity to do better and to be better.  I am taking that opportunity.

Did you open your eyes and hope it never happened
Close your eyes and not go to sleep?
Did you notice the sunset for the first time in ages
And speak to some stranger on the street?
Did you lay down at night and think of tomorrow
Go out and buy you a gun?

After 9/11 I know a lot of people who did close their eyes and hope it never happened.  People who struggled with sleep.  I wasn’t one of them.  But after October 7th, I was.  I hoped it was a nightmare.  I hoped I would wake up and it was only a nightmare.  I struggled to sleep and when I did sleep, it wasn’t restful.  October 7th was much more personal for me than 9/11.  Unfortunately, I think most of the country has forgotten the horror of 9/11 and October 7th happened ‘over there’ and ‘to them’ and doesn’t affect their daily lives. 

I have chosen to invest more in random acts of kindness.  Today I was at the grocery store behind a couple with a child that has a disability.  It meant that they were going very slow.  I was stuck behind them.  Instead of getting frustrated and trying to push by, I took a deep breath and watched them with their daughter.  And found joy in it.  Instead of being angry and resentful, I was grateful and filled with love.  All because I took a deep breath and didn’t push past them.  I say hello to strangers and talk with them as people, not strangers.  I will hold a door open, let somebody get in front of me, and enjoy the beauty of the day.

The world is a scary place and has only gotten scarier since October 7th.  Being so public as a Jewish leader, I felt targeted and at risk.  Long before October 7th, I did get training on firearms and made sure that I have them to protect myself.  They are things I hope to only use on the range when I practice.  But I won’t be a victim.  I won’t allow my family to be at risk from the hatred that exists in the world.  And I know I am not alone in these thoughts, concerns, and actions. 

Did you turn off that violent old movie you’re watchin’
And turn on I Love Lucy reruns?
Did you go to a church and hold hands with some strangers
Stand in line to give your own blood?
Did you just stay home and cling tight to your family
Thank God you had somebody to love?

This last verse asks what we are doing differently.  While there are specific things listed, it’s really about who you are and what you are doing as a result of 9/11 and now October 7th.  There are many things I do differently today than I did prior to October 7th.  I speak out much more often against antisemitism and hatred.  I reach out to those I love and to my friends.  I make sure my friends who are different religions, races, cultures, etc. know I care about them and that I am interested in our similarities, not our differences. 

Like Pirkei Avot teaches us, I have an obligation to help with the work.  So I give blood, hold doors, exhibit patience, spend more time with my family, tell those that I love that I love them.  I invest in friendships and allow those that have been shown to not be investable to die so that I am investing in those of value. 

I appreciate what I have in my life.  I am a rich man because I want what I have rather than having what I want.  I am grateful for the life that I get to live rather than worrying about the life I wish I had.  I am more connected spiritually and am open to all that the universe brings to me. 

I am committed to making the world a better place.  That starts with those around me and in my local community.  It means doing things for the right reasons.  President Ronald Reagan had on his desk a sign that said, “There is no limit to what a man can do or where he can go if he doesn’t mind who gets the credit.”  That is how I live my life post October 7th.  I don’t care who gets the credit.  I don’t care about the recognition.  I only care about what we can do together.  What we can accomplish.  How we can make the world a better place for all. 

The paperweight from President Ronald Reagan’s desk

Where were you when the world stopped turnin’
On that September day?

The song ends with the haunting question that it began with.  It reminds us that the world did stop turning.  Both on 9/11 and October 7th the world was forever altered.  We were forever altered.  Where were we?  What did we do as a result?  How did we change?  How did we change the world?  What did we do to make the world a better place and to get it turning once again. 

At the end of the day, all we can control is our own actions.  What are you going to do today to make the world a better place?  How are you going to change the world today?  Remember that just because the world stopped turning on October 7th doesn’t mean we are free from the obligation to make sure it is turning once again.  I’m up for the challenge and I hope you will join me.

Anger, Rage, Love, Hope

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

On Sunday Jan 14, 2024, it will officially be 100 days since the violent attacks by Hamas resulting in the murder, mutilation, rape, burning, and kidnapping of Israelis.  There remain 132 people held hostage by Hamas in Gaza including infants, toddlers, children, women, and the elderly.  They have not been provided their medication in 100 days.  They have been held in underground tunnels for 100 days.  Birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays have come and gone while they are being held captive.  For the past hundred days the attacks on October 7th, the murders, mutilation, rape, burning, and kidnapping of my Jewish and non-Jewish brothers and sisters just because they were in Israel has weighed heavy on me. 

I ordered a new Magen David (Star of David) from Israel that I wear.  I got two dogtags from Israel, one saying “Bring them Home Now” in English and Hebrew, the other quoting released hostage Mia Schem, taken from the Nova music festival, and her tattoo, boldly stating, “We will dance again.” I want to fly an Israeli flag at my house, however due to the rise in antisemitism and the fears of my family, I don’t. 

This rise in antisemitism has fueled my anger and rage.  Seeing what’s happening on campus and watching and listening to then President of The University of Pennsylvania, Liz Magill, then President of Harvard College, Claudine Gay, and President of MIT, Sally Kornbluth refuse to state that calls for the genocide of Jews would violate their University’s code of contact was infuriating and unbelievable. 

Watching some members of the US House of Representatives who previously stood strongly against sexual violence keep silent because the victims were Jews burns in my gut.  People shamelessly throwing around words like ‘ethnic cleansing’ and ‘genocide’ without knowing the definition or the proper application has fire in my eyes.  When South Africa has the nerve to charge Israel with genocide at the International Criminal Court my body cramped and ached with exhaustion.  Israel, and the Jewish people, are being singled out compared to every other group or nation and excluded from protection.

When Germany, of all nations, comes out with a strong statement in support of Israel, clearly stating they are not involved in genocide, it provides relief.  When Canada stands up and says that while they believe in the process of the International Criminal Court, it “does not mean we support the premise of the case brought forward by South Africa.” it is both surprising because of recent events in Canada and relief that they are doing what’s right.  When the U.K. calls these claims “unjustified’ it generates major news.  The United States has called these claims ‘unfounded’.  It took watching and listening to Dr. Tal Becker’s incredible opening statement, 30 minutes of powerful and clear statements, to truly provide me with some relief.

This is not the way I lived my life prior to October 7, 2023.  It’s not how I want to live my life today.  Yet the realities of what occurred on October 7th and what has happened since, have me struggling on a daily basis.  I was talking with a friend on Friday over coffee who saw the 47-minute Hamas video with me about the experience.  She commented on how she hasn’t been able to process it with anybody because they can’t imagine the horrors she witnessed.  And how some of the images will never leave her memory.  I feel the same way and some of the images that have deeply disturbed her are the same that deeply disturb me. 

So how do I move forward?  How do I find inspiration and hope in a world that continues to suck hope and joy out with such incredible hate.  How do I get past these feelings when I already know where I will go and who will hide me and my family if that time should ever come?  How do I come to accept that not only have I had that thought but spoken to that person who agreed to do it?  That in 2024, in the United States of America, I feel so unsafe that I need to have a secure place to hide.  That the hatred of Jews is so strong and accepted that people feel safe screaming it from the top of lungs in public settings.

I have found inspiration in three places.   The first is the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr.  A true leader in times when the African American community was facing the same type of public hatred, he remained a beacon of light.  Nearly 56 years after his assassination, his words, spirit, and leadership remain powerful.  How fitting is that as I write this, it is the weekend celebrating his birth.  Dr. King has many famous quotes that are filled with inspiration.  So many inspired me.  I picked 5 that speak to me now.

Nothing in the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity.

We must walk on in the days ahead with an audacious faith in the future.

Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.

I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear.

Hatred paralyzes life; love releases it. Hatred confuses life; love harmonizes it. Hatred darkens life; love illuminates it.

You will notice that 3 of the 5 relate to love instead of hatred.  It’s easy to be filled with hate after October 7th and the 100 days the hostages have been kept.  It’s easy to hate when the Red Cross refuses to see the hostages or get them medicine.  It’s easy to hate after watching the 47-minute Hamas video.  Yet hatred, as Dr. King states, is a burden, paralyzes, confuses, and darkens life.  As I struggle with my anger and rage, Dr. King inspires me to be better and to do better.  He reminds me that those who are sincerely ignorant and consciously stupid are dangerous and I have an obligation to continue to learn and to educate others.  And most importantly, he reminds me that I must have faith in the future and focus on love, not hate.

The second may be seen by some as controversial.  Joe Paterno was more than a football coach.  The investment he put into his players as people is legendary.  I know so many people who weren’t players who had interactions with him and his focus was always about being better people.  What type of person do you want to be?  What type of parent?  Spouse?  I have friends who played on his teams and they all talk about how he invested in them as people.  Due to the Sandusky scandal, the statue of him was removed.  Penn State fans want it back and recently I read something about it once again.  The thought came to me that were he still alive, the statue wouldn’t be something he cared about.  But the type of people he coached and how they live their lives today is something he’d care about.  One of my middle and high school friends who was on the team from 1985-1990 is a great example.  Darryl is also in coaching and has been a mentor to my son Evan.  Along with being a friend to me, he is always available to help Evan.  I have seen the way he interacts with the players he coaches and like Joe Paterno, he cares about them as people first.  As I struggle with the feelings since October 7th, I think of the lessons from Coach Paterno and how that relates.  “Success with honor” was one of key goals for Coach Paterno.  It’s also how the IDF behaves.  They have their mission however they go above and beyond to what they can to ensure civilians aren’t harmed.  Unfortunately, Hamas does everything they can to ensure that civilians are harmed.  Coach Paterno had to compete against those who cheated.  Israel has to fight against Hamas who uses hospitals, schools, mosques, and homes as military bases.  Yet neither Coach Paterno nor the IDF compromise their values even when it makes things more difficult. 

The third place I find my inspiration is from my father.  I had a very close relationship with my father and when he died in September 2022, it had a huge impact on me.  My dad always focused on what you do, not what you say.  He focused on family and how important it is.  He cared about people and was always there as a resource to anybody and everybody.  As I struggle with these feelings, I often hear my dad in my head, giving me advice and guidance.  I have wanted to go to Israel since October 7th but my family is too concerned about safety and doesn’t want me to go.  I hear my dad telling me that as much as I want to go, as much as I need to go for myself, nothing is more important than family.  I know he would tell me to do what I can from here and be grateful that I can do things from here, even if it isn’t what I would prefer to do.  As I struggle with the anger and rage, he would tell me to focus on the beauty in my life, my family, my friends, and appreciate what I have rather than be consumed with anger and hate.  Like Dr. King, my dad focused on love and light.  I miss him terribly but even now, he is helping me deal with these feelings.

My brother, my dad, and me. He was my mentor and idol and he continues to teach me every day.

Today was the Ride for Israel in town.  Some wonderful community members put it together and a large crowd showed up for motorcycle and cars driving with Israeli flags, signs, and more throughout Orlando.  For two hours we drove all around town as people honked in support.  We had a great crowd and it felt good to be together as a community in support of Israel and the Kibbutzim that were attacked on October 7th.  It was a day of love, hope, community, friendship and fun.  As I struggle with the feelings post October 7th, it’s things like this along with the inspiration from Dr. King, Joe Paterno, and my dad that get me through it. 

Leaders of the Ride for Israel. What an incredible day.

I do believe and have hope for the future.  And perhaps that hope is what will get me through these challenging days.

Inspiring art and words from Joanne Fink