Tag: idf

Yom HaZikaron in Israel – this year is different

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

There is something special about being in Israel.  For those of you who have been here, you know.  For those of you who have not been here yet, I can’t explain it.  It’s the air, the sounds, the smells, the energy that exists.  Even in the middle of a war, I feel peaceful.

I got my frozen Aroma (the best coffee drink ever) and went to get a taxi to my hotel.  My driver was former military (like most people in Israel).  As we discussed the war, he shared that when he was on active duty and reserves, his unit was like the one in the TV show Fauda.  If you haven’t seen the show, it is a must, especially with what is going on now with the Hamas-Israel war.  It might provide some insight into the challenges that exist to finding peace.  He showed me a picture of him undercover.  It was incredible to see.  As we pulled up to the hotel and got out of the car, the 8 pm siren went off.  I have been here for Yom HaZikaron two other times and know what the siren is like, however this year was different for me.  As I stood outside my taxi with everybody else around, standing proud, silent, and thinking about all those who have lost their lives in defense of the Jewish people and Israel, I got emotional, and tears came to my eyes.  The minute was over far too quickly, and it made me long for the two-minute siren today and to be in a large group like I will today.  There is something about being a Jew and being the majority especially during significant times like this that is indescribable until you experience it.  It is something that you can’t comprehend and can’t even imagine until you experience.

I went for my walk on the beach, sat there enjoying the sound of the Mediterranean Sea, the fresh Israeli air, and the sand between my toes.  My friend Matthew finally arrived after spending 30+ hours traveling after United cancelled his flight a few days ago and we hung out before crashing for the night.

Monday was the full day of Yom HaZikaron.  It also meant Israeli breakfast.  For those of you that have never been here or had Israeli breakfast, it is simply the best meal of the day.  The options are endless, the fruit and vegetables fresher than anywhere at home other than your own garden, the dairy product incredible, and the best way to start the day.  The hotel had one of the best breakfasts I have had and I sat with friends eating and drinking coffee (lattes and cappuccinos not Nescafe like my first trip in 1989!) 

We left the hotel for the ceremony with the Machal soldiers.  I didn’t know we were going to be with Machal soldiers, and this was very meaningful to me.  When I was running UF Hillel, I learned about Machal and Aliyah Bet from Ralph Lowenstein z’l, who in 1948 was the second youngest North American to volunteer to fight in the war of independence.  Those who volunteered from other countries were part of Machal.  The museum for Machal and Aliyah Bet was included when we constructed Norman H. Lipoff Hall, the home of the Hillel the University of Florida.  Ralph would regale me with stories of his time on the boat traveling to Cypress to immigrate to Israel, his time driving a halftrack in the war, and the conditions they had to fight in.  When we dedicated the museum in 2005, most of the living members of Machal from 1948 came.  They kept thanking me for my part in the museum happening.  I told them that all I did was say yes to a great idea and that they were the true heroes.  It was one of the most humbling moments of my life as these true heroes, who risked everything including being arrested and losing citizenship to fight for Israel and the Jewish people. 

I had been asked to bring some things with me to give to individual soldiers that I met during the trip and was able to hand them out before the ceremony.  I shared this opportunity with some friends on the trip so they could share in the joy of doing something nice for the soldiers.  As I spent time talking to them, most of them from France, I was struck by a few things.

  1. How young they are.  These were babies.  They were younger than my own children. 
  2. They shared how bad it is in France for Jews.  I knew it was bad from reading the news, but they shared much more. 
  3. How happy they were to be in Israel, serving in the IDF, protecting Israel and the Jewish people.  In the middle of a war where they could lose their lives at any moment, they were happy to be able to serve.
Two French IDF soldiers in the Machal unit
A French IDF soldier serving in the Machal unit

They thanked me for coming from the depths of their soul.  I have had this happen in Israel two other times.  The first was during the second intifada when Jews weren’t coming to Israel. The only ones coming were Christians.  When a Jewish group came, they thanked us profusely because they hadn’t seen American Jews coming to Israel in a long time.  It made me sad then and makes me sad now.  The other time was when I came in 2021 just before Israel was reopened due to Covid.  Tour groups hadn’t been allowed to come until ours and the looks we got wearing our badges were incredible.  People came up to talk to us, ask questions, and thank us for coming.  We brought a sense of relief and support once again that had been missing.  It reminds me of our obligation as diaspora Jews to come to Israel, to support of brothers and sisters all the time.  How much they need us even though they appear to be tough and can take care of themselves.  They need to see us, to hug us, to talk with us, and to laugh and cry with us.

During the ceremony, which was very moving, there were a few things that stuck out to me.  First, as Jews we always live with hope.  We always have.  We always will. Hope for the future.  Next year in Jerusalem at every Seder for generations.  My Ethiopian Israeli friends often talk about their hope when living in Ethiopia to one day return to Jerusalem. 

An originial Machalnick from 1948 speaking at the ceremony. May he live to 120.

Secondly, the impact of North American Jews in the creation of the State of Israel in 1948.  Ralph would always share the role we played with the air force in 1948, with getting the planes, weapons, and equipment needed to fight the war.  It was illegal for Americans to help provide Israel with any of this at that time, yet so many brave people did.  My friend Ann Bussell would tell me stories about her father, Shepard Broad, and how he provided the funding to retrofit the ships in the Miami river.  She loved telling me stories about how as a little girl she would play on the deck of the ship, Exodus, in the Miami River.  How American Jews took incredible risks to give Israel a chance to survive.  If they could risk everything on a state fighting with an army that was overwhelmed in numbers and equipment, what are we prepared to risk today for the incredible State of Israel.  It made me think deeply.

As the ceremony ended and we gathered for lunch, our trip leader, Saul Blinkoff, shared some wisdom with us.  I took three things to heart.

One, “if you don’t stand up, you can’t survive.”  It sounds so simple, yet it is very true.  We are not the Jews of the 1930s and 1940s who went to the gas chambers.  We are not the Jews who stood by during the pogroms in eastern Europe.  We are not the Jews who converted during the Spanish Inquisition to avoid prison, deportation, or death.  We stand up today.  We fight back today.  After Hamas violently invaded Israel and murdered 1200 people on October 7th, we didn’t sit back and apologize for existing.  Those days are no longer.  As Jews we are proud of who we are and will fight for our survival.  NO MATTER WHAT.  We have Israel to thank for that.

Two, one of the reminders of the horrors of October 7th was that the Sukkahs were still standing for a long time afterwards.  The attack came on the Jewish holiday of Simchat Torah, the end of the holiday of Sukkot.  There wasn’t time to take the sukkahs down as people were reporting for reserve duty immediately.  Many had been murdered in the Gaza envelope so there was nobody to take those sukkahs down.  The sukkah, a reminder of the temporary nature of life, designed as temporary structures, stayed up for weeks after they should have been taken down.  Temporary had become more permanent.  But they were temporary and came down.  Just like the horrors we are dealing with right now are temporary and will end.  The IDF will succeed.  Israel will be kept safe.  We won’t be in Gaza forever, just longer than anybody would have hoped to ensure Israel and the Jewish people are safe. 

Third, time is the one thing we can’t get more of.  We never know how much we have, and we can’t make more.  Yet on Yom HaZikaron, time stops.  This was my third time being in Israel for Yom HaZikaron and time does stop.  Things are much slower.  It’s a day of thoughtfulness, of mourning, of reflection.  The contrast between Memorial Day in America is profound.  There are no sales.  There are no barbecues.  Stores and restaurants are closed.  The siren goes off for a minute at 8 pm as the holiday begins and then for 2 minutes at 11 am the next morning.  The nation stops and stands at attention. 

When we got back to the hotel after the ceremony, we had some free time, which was greatly needed.  My friends Matthew, Michael and I went to the beach to sit, talk, relax, connect, and then go for a swim in the Mediterranean Sea.  The water felt incredible, the wind making us a little cold, but it was refreshing.  In some ways it was like a dip in the mikvah (ritual bath) that refreshes and renews you.  We headed back to the hotel for some time in the steam room to relax before getting ready for our final speaker and then dinner.

Our final speaker of the night was my friend Yaron.  He was a commander in the IDF in Gaza for the first 4 months.  He responded on October 7th.  He had an incredible military career and I have written about him many times.  He is a true hero and a real badass.  He is also one of the nicest and humblest people you will every meet.  He and I gave each other big hugs and caught up a little before his presentation.  Brothers.  Friends.  Judaism is so much more than a shared religion; it is a shared family.  Yaron is like a brother to me and I worry about him during this war. 

Hanging with my brother Yaron

As he talked about October 7th, ‘a day of hell’ as he described it, the day came to life for me in a way it never had before.  His commander ended up at the Nova festival by accident, fighting terrorists and trying to save lives.  Yaron had to defend his military base which was under attack.  He had to defend another military base that was under attack.  He had to fight his way to get from one place to another as terrorists were controlling the area.  The frustration in his voice as he talked about all the phone calls he was getting from people who needed the IDF to save them was palpable.  For some reason, his cell number was given out to people, and he was getting calls from all over, trying to figure out logistics and how to attempt to save people from the terrorists that were committed to murdering, raping, and kidnapping Israeli civilians.  When Yaron decided that he was going to go back to the main base to better help defend Israel, he was questioned about the risk to his own life in trying to get there.  He responded that he had to do it to save lives.  As he went to go alone, one of his friends who served under his command jumped in the jeep with him.  When Yaron told him to get out and not risk his life, his friend told him that he was in the reserves, so Yaron wasn’t really his boss, and he was going.  Two young female soldiers in their early 20s jumped in the back. Yaron ordered them out and they gave the same answer his friend did.  That’s Israel.  Saving lives was most important, even at the risk of their own lives.  When they got back to the base, they began searching for people to save.  I’ll never forget Yaron telling us that ‘there was nobody to save’. 

One of the things that tied together the sadness of October 7th and the way the Jewish people focus on the future and on hope was a picture and story Yaron told us.  He has 7 children and not too long ago his 6th child had his Bar Mitzvah.  They held his Bar Mitzvah at Kibbutz Be’eri, one of the places that was devastated by Hamas terrorists on October 7th.  Despite the death.  Despite the sadness.  Despite the loss.  The Jewish people will live on.  We will celebrate joy.  We will not just survive, we will thrive. 

Yaron with his son at the Bar Mitzvah at Kibbutz Be’eri

Yaron had to leave after the presentation because he had to back to Gaza.  He said it to me the way I would have said, “I have to go back to the office” or “I have to go to the grocery store.”  That struck me as well.  He was going back into harm’s way as if it was no different than going to the store.  He understands what is at stake is the future of the Jewish people. I’m hoping to see Yaron again today or tomorrow before he has to fly to the US but neither of us in charge of that.  It depends on what is needed in Gaza.  What a strange sentence to type and thought to have. 

The group of us went out to dinner at a great meat restaurant.  They fed us like at a Brazilian steakhouse and we ate and talked.  The sun set over the port of Tel Aviv and we shifted from Yom HaZikaron to Yom Ha’atzmaut (Israel’s Independence Day).  Normally this is an incredible transition with sadness erupting into incredible joy.  I’m still processing how different it was last night and will write about that in my next blog post.  It’s too much right now, especially with the entire day of Yom Ha’atzmaut ahead. As Saul was talking to us about the transition, he talked about pain and suffering and the difference between them.  He told us a story about a woman giving birth and her husband was there with her.  As she was in excruciating pain, he began making faces of pain.  She stopped, mid push, and asked why he was making faces when she was in pain. He told her he didn’t like to see her suffering.  She took a deep breath, paused again between pushing, and told him she was in pain, not suffering.  Saul, and the story, reminded us that suffering leads to nothing.  Pain leads to growth.  As we deal with the pain of October 7th, the pain of the war in Gaza, the pain of the loss of life, we can also grow.  Suffering is useless.  It leads to nothing. 

Today was filled lots of pain but no suffering. I’m so glad to be here in Israel, my homeland, with my brothers and sisters. I can feel the healing beginning.

Gen X, Israel vs. the US, Free Speech and the Roman Empire

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

For many obvious reasons, I have been thinking a lot about the world we live in today and the attitudes people have today.  It is truly a fascinating time to be alive in so many ways, not all of them good. 

I am part of Gen X.  I think this has a huge impact on the way I view the world.  I know it has a huge impact on how I both raised my children and how I see what is happening on college campuses, in the school systems, and in our country.  My generation grew up with freedoms that future generations didn’t have.  We were latchkey kids.  Most of our parents worked so after school we were free to do what we wanted. 

We didn’t have computers or screens.  There was no internet or cell phones.  We played outside until the streetlights came on.  Often times our parents had no idea where we were after school and that didn’t bother them.  We were independent.  We’d ride our bikes miles to get to other friends’ neighborhoods.  Our friends were our friends because of who they were.  Race, religion, sexuality didn’t matter.  My public school was closed for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur because 1/3 of the students and teachers were Jewish.  We were also closed the first day of deer hunting season because 1/3 of the students and teachers would be out hunting.  We were an eclectic group of people tied together.  I grew up with friends that came from family’s that had lots of money, those who were middle class, and those who didn’t have much money.  It didn’t matter.  Many of us are still in touch today.  We had real friendships that stand the test of time.

I remember when two of my childhood friends finally came out.  I, like the rest of our friends, were happy for them that they felt comfortable coming out.  We also knew they were gay when we were in elementary school, so it wasn’t a big deal and changed nothing as far as we were concerned.  We paid attention to who people were, not identity politics. 

As I look at the world today, I wonder how we lost that specialness from my childhood.  We are more divided than any time since the civil war.  We no longer focus on the quality of the individual but on what sets them apart from us.  We no longer care about who people are but rather how they identify.  When I was running nonprofits, my goal was always to hire the best person for the job.  It didn’t matter to me if it was a man or a woman, what their race or their religion was.  I didn’t care about their sexuality.  I wanted the best person for the job.  Today’s world seems to have more and more focus on the identity of the person as we focus on how we are different instead of how we are similar.

My older son is home for a bit and he took me to the Brightline station (high speed rail between Orlando and South Florida) so I can get my flight to Israel later tonight.  As we were talking, he told me about how many of his ‘friends’ he has had to block on social media because of how they were minimizing what Hamas did on October 7th and the need for Israel to eliminate Hamas to ensure the safety of Israelis and to free to people of Gaza.  It saddened me to hear this.  I don’t know how all my childhood friends feel about the conflict.  What I do know is that the vast majority of them have reached out in support of me.  I’m not asking them to believe what I believe.  I am asking them to be my friend and understand what I am going through as a Zionist and as a Jew since October 7th. 

I have long looked at the difference between Israeli youth and American youth.  From the time I first began to engage with 18-21 year old Israelis, serving their country in the IDF, and comparing them to my own college experience and then, when working on the University of Florida campus, with the UF students.  The similarities and differences were dramatic.  On the many Birthright Israel trips I staffed, we had 8 Israeli soldiers join us.  They were the same age as our students on the trip.  When they showed up in uniform, they were imposing.  Awe inspiring.  A few minutes after arriving, when they changed out of their uniforms, they became peers with our college students.  For the part of the trip they were with us, the similarities between the Israelis and Americans was striking.  When they first arrived and then, when they put their uniforms back on at the end of their time with us, the differences were striking. 

As a result, it didn’t surprise me that after October 7th, so many members of the IDF reserves showed up.  I read that Israel recalled 250,000 reserve soldiers and hoped to get 200,000 to actually show up.  Instead, 300,000 showed up.  People in America were doing all they could to get flights to go back and serve.  My friends who were retired IDF soldiers in the 40s and 50s showed up to serve.  They understood the existential threat that Hamas is as a result of October 7th.  Many of them went from protesting the Netanyahu government and some of their policy positions to a united front for Israel.  It was extraordinary but if you know Israel and Israelis, it was also not unexpected.

Last week, Douglas Murray, one of my favorite people to follow, was given the Alexander Hamilton Award for his ‘unwavering defense of Western values.’  His speech, in text here and the video of it below, was extraordinary. 

He spoke about “What it Means to Choose Life”.  He uses examples of both the Ukrainian people and Israeli people that make me long for the days of my youth.  Unlike our entitled generation that believes everything should be given to them, the people he talks about understand that everything comes with a price.  Unlike the protesting college students who think they have the right to incite violence, take over buildings, violate campus rules and break laws without any consequences, the people Murray talks about understand that everything comes with a cost. 

I want to be clear that I am not saying the college students shouldn’t protest.  Protesting, especially on college campuses, is a right of passage.  We have freedom of speech in the United States and as President Andrew Shephard says in the great movie, The American President,

“America isn’t easy. America is advanced citizenship. You’ve gotta want it bad, ’cause it’s gonna put up a fight. It’s gonna say, “You want free speech? Let’s see you acknowledge a man whose words make your blood boil, who’s standing center stage and advocating at the top of his lungs that which you would spend a lifetime opposing at the top of yours.” You want to claim this land as the land of the free? Then the symbol of your country cannot just be a flag. The symbol also has to be one of its citizens exercising his right to burn that flag in protest. Now show me that, defend that, celebrate that in your classrooms.  Then you can stand up and sing about the land of the free.”

I disagree with the campus protesters position, and I disagree with how they characterize what is going on in Gaza.  I also firmly stand with their right to peacefully say it.  To gather in the public allowed space, in the manner that is allowed for everybody, and protest and hold signs, and say what they want.  Crossing the line to blocking Jewish students from going to class, harassing them as they walk on campus, threatening them, physically assaulting them, breaking the campus rules and breaking laws is not acceptable and comes with consequences. 

I laughed when the spokesperson for the student protesters who took over Hamilton Hall at Columbia University asked for ‘humanitarian aid’.  Nobody was forcing them to stay in the building.  They could walk out of the building to get food and water any time they wanted.  The entitlement was absurd.  The students at Princeton who have decided to hold a hunger strike to protest the war in Gaza also made me shake my head.  Nobody is forcing them to go on a hunger strike.  They aren’t in prison or jail where their care belongs to the state and monitoring them is therefore the state’s obligation. They are choosing not to eat and as a result, they are responsible for their own health monitoring.  When they got upset that the University wasn’t monitoring their health as they were on the hunger strike, I thought to myself, ‘What entitlement’. 

I missed the protests of the 60s and 70s because I was too young.  I have had the opportunity to talk with many people who were part of those protests.  Every single one that I spoke with could tell me how many times they were arrested for their protest.  Every single one of them was proud of their arrest.  They knew there would be consequences for their protest, and they embraced it.  They didn’t whine and cry when the consequences came.  They had that level of conviction.  Today’s protesters seem to lack that conviction.  They want the best of both worlds.  They want to protest with no consequences and have the rest of the world cave to their demands because they protested once.  There are Universities who have done this, and I believe they will face long lasting consequences for doing this.  Others have held their ground and ensured that freedom of speech is protected, and inappropriate actions are held accountable and face consequences.  Those who have made the second choice are also bearing the fruits of this effort.  Their students feel safe.  Their graduations are not cancelled.  Their donors and alumni are not up in arms.  Their University Presidents are not having to testify in front of Congress about how they are failing to protect Jewish college students. 

Our world today has the ‘news’ in the ‘entertainment’ department.  We have the 24 hour ‘news’ cycle and each station has its own agenda to push.  The days of Walter Cronkite reading the news and you getting to interpret it are long gone.  Whatever channel you watch feeds you their narrative.  Critical thinking is dying.  Deep conversations are dying.

On this trip to Israel, one of my hopes and plans is to go visit my friend Mahmoud in East Jerusalem.  Mahmoud is a Palestinian Arab, and his family owns the big Palestinian bookstore in East Jerusalem.  When we met in November 2019, he pushed some of my buttons and challenged me to think deeper and in different ways.  In the 4 ½ years since we met, I have thought deeply on many things he said to us and very much look forward to sitting down for a few cups of coffee or tea, a bite to eat, and having a robust and deep conversation.  We won’t settle the conflict, but we can do our little part to build friendships, understanding, and perhaps share what we learn from each other with our other friends that might impact change.

I think that’s the most important lesson of all of this.  I remember hearing the stories of how President Ronald Reagan and Speaker of the House Tip O’Neill would argue and fight all day long and then go have a beer together.  Mahmoud and I will come from different points of view and will sit over coffee and talk and share.  Even as I write this, a friend reached out to share information I wasn’t aware of and it changed my mind and I went back and edited something that I wrote as a result of this new information.  We need to find a way to get back to that being the norm.  Yelling at each other, only speaking with people who agree with you, repeating lies because they advance your point of view, and anything else that fits into this area does not solve problems.  It doesn’t get us to solutions.  It doesn’t bring us together.  It divides us.  It separates us.  It leads to physical harm.  It degrades us as human beings and as a civilization.

There was a fascinating September 2023 CBS News report that said most men think about the Roman Empire once a day, and some think about it as often as three times a day.  My wife asked me about it and I said that I think about it at least once a week.  She was stunned.  Why do men think about the Roman Empire so often?  My theory is that the Roman Empire is a symbol of amazing strength and power.  Incredible things came from the Roman Empire.  It seemed to a power that would last forever.  And it fell.  I always wondered how the Roman Empire could fall.  It had a strong military, powerful leaders, good economy, art, and culture.  It seemed to be the type of society that would last forever.  Yet it didn’t.  The past few years have given me an indication of how it could have fallen.  Internal bickering.  Divisiveness.  Lack of humanity.  Lack of understanding.  Growth of hate.  Poor leaders in control.  I hope that we can learn the lessons from the fall of the Roman Empire to avoid the fall of the American experiment.  Freedom, democracy, and our future are too important to just throw away the way we are. 

Leadership is doing what’s right no matter the cost

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

Ever since October 7th, I have wanted to go back to Israel.  I was supposed to go in November 2023, but the trip was cancelled, and my family was uncomfortable with me going to volunteer.  Every day I would struggle with the deep desire to be in my homeland, doing my part to help.  Serving in the IDF is not an option at my age and without any military background.   But I can cook, clean, pick fruits and vegetables, and do whatever is needed.  The needs of my family for me not to go overrode my need and desire to go.  It has not been easy or comfortable, being in the US and my heart and soul in Israel. 

This changes on Saturday night when my flight departs for Israel.  I have the opportunity to go both for my own needs and for work related business.  It is getting me there which is what I need.  To be with my Israeli friends who have been serving in the IDF.  To visit the kibbutzim that were attacked on October 7th, go back to Sderot, also attacked.  To pay tribute at the Nova music festival site.  To spend time in Hostage square in Tel Aviv. 

There is a saying that ‘Leaders lead’.  You take risks.  You do the right thing regardless of the consequences.  For me, going to Israel right now falls into that category.  As a Jew, as a proud Zionist, it is my obligation to be there, to be part of my homeland, to give back, and to support my Israeli brothers and sisters.  Too many leaders in our world are so afraid of the backlash of doing the right thing that they do nothing.  As a result, they are merely a leader in name. 

We saw that today when President Biden said, “if they go into Rafah, I’m not supplying the weapons that have been used historically to deal with Rafah, to deal with the cities — that deal with that problem.”  Going into Rafah is a necessity to both rescue hostages and defeat Hamas. 

This came a day after he said, “My commitment to the safety of the Jewish people, the security of Israel, and its right to exist as an independent Jewish people and Israel is ironclad, even when we disagree.”

Yesterday’s statement caused him potential electoral issues in Michigan and Minnesota and with the Progressive wing of his party.  Rather than do what is right, supporting our ally, fighting against terrorism and evil, he backtracked and tried to play both sides.  Yesterday he was against terrorism, hatred, and antisemitism.  Today he was in favor of terrorism, hatred, and antisemitism.  That’s not what leaders do. 

This isn’t a partisan take.  Representatives John Fetterman and Ritchie Torres are leaders.  They have taken a position with our ally, in support of good over evil, against terrorism and hate.  They haven’t forgotten the hostages and aren’t afraid to speak out, even when they take incredible criticism.  Doing the right thing is more important than poll results. 

Senator Fetterman’s office has posters of the hostages hanging on the walls
Senator Fetterman remains Pro-Israel, wants the hostages back, and is anti-Hamas and terror

We live in a world where our “leaders” are more concerned with being liked and tracking their approval ratings than actually leading.  We see this in our Jewish community, in our local community, in our states and in the federal government.  They aren’t trained properly.  They aren’t mentored properly.  Many don’t want it and think they know what it means and what it entails. Others want it but can’t find it.  The vast majority of our leaders have not had anybody provide them with the guidance and instruction needed.

I often think back to the people who trained and mentored me.  One was very hard on me.  Very critical.  I used to say that he was ‘crusty’ on the outside and ‘gooey’ on the inside.  You had to deal with the crusty exterior to get to the gooey interior.  He wouldn’t take excuses from me.  He wouldn’t accept anything but excellence.  He didn’t sugarcoat anything.  He told it like it is and didn’t try to soften it up to save my feelings.  He made me a better professional and a better person.  He would often challenge me about my own personal desires.  Did I want to be excellent, or did I want to be mediocre?  If I wanted to be mediocre, then he didn’t have to spend time with me.  If I wanted to be excellent then I had to do things differently.  I learned tremendous lessons from him.

The other mentor I think about was much softer and nicer in his presentation.  He explained things and sent the message in a kinder way.  He also wouldn’t take excuses.  He wouldn’t let me off the hook from doing things the right way.  He challenged the way I thought and the reasons behind my thought process.  He laid out his expectations if he was going to invest his time and if I wasn’t willing to do what we required to meet them, he would invest his time elsewhere.  He shared his own personal experiences and what went right and where things went off the tracks.  He wasn’t afraid to be vulnerable about the times he wasn’t successful and what he learned from those times.  He would listen as I would share the things I learned from my mistakes and share in the joy of my successes. 

Throughout my career, I have leaned on these lessons.  Both men made a significant impact on my life.  They taught me about integrity, especially as a leader.  They taught me that at the end of the day, I have to live with myself, my choices, and my actions.  They taught me that it’s better to do the right thing and get negative consequences than to do the wrong thing and get positive recognition.  I’ll always be grateful to them for their time and their investment in me. 

It is something that I strive to do for others.  Just in the last week, I have had former employees reach out to say hi, send me a picture of them together, check in on me, ask for help with career changes, to work on an exciting project together, to pick my brain as they prepare for job interviews, and to just say thank you.  It is incredibly gratifying to know that I am paying it forward from what these two men did for me.  I look at it as an obligation that I have to make the world better by helping train leaders.  I have the privilege of working with a friend to do leadership training for college students through taking them to Israel.  Together we are working on a young leadership training program in Israel for February 2025.  If we want better leaders, we have to take action to develop them. 

Leadership trip for 19-26 year olds. Highly subsidized. An amazing experience. Sign up now!

I also have the privilege of working as a mentor to a younger professional who reminds me a great deal of myself when I began working with my first mentor.  I get a lot of gratitude helping him grow, helping him see things differently, challenging him to be excellent instead of mediocre, just as I was challenged.  It’s incredibly rewarding as I watch him grow.  Each time he ‘gets it’ and understands the ‘why’ behind the ‘what’, I get a lot of joy.  I can only imagine that my mentors felt the same way when I finally ‘got it’. 

We live in challenging times.  We need our leaders more than ever and true leaders are in short supply.  It brings me back to my trip to Israel.  I want to show my children what it means to be a leader.  What it means to do what you think is right despite the risks.  I want them to understand how important it is to do what is right no matter what.  They have seen me live my values throughout the years.  Doing what was needed for my dad during the last few weeks of his life.  Being there for my mom during that time and afterwards.  Staying true to myself and my values, morals, and ethics in spite of situations with others that it would be easy to abandon them for personal gain.  Being there in DC as one of the 300,000 people there for the big rally in support of Israel.

I can’t wait to go to Israel.  It’s only a few days and it feels like an eternity.  I will get to see my friend Grace.  My friends Margot and Tamar and their children.  My friends Yaron and Yoni who are volunteering and speaking to us.  I plan on going to East Jerusalem and having a long coffee and conversation with my Palestinian friend Mahmoud.  I hope to see my friend Noam who lives in Boston but as it happens in the Jewish world, will be in Israel for a few days when I am there.  I’m having dinner with my friend Tamara and her kids.  I’ll get the personal meaning that I need in Jerusalem, at the Nova site, at hostage square, and at the Kibbutzim in the south.  I’ll give back by picking fruits and vegetables and having dinner with IDF soldiers to say thank you.

Paratroopers in the IDF running up Masada to finish their training. What a celebration. Something I will never forget. Incredible personal meaning for them and for those of us who joined their celebration.

I’ll lead by following my values, morals, and ethics.  I’ll lead by taking the time to learn and grow.  I’ll lead by spending time with friends from America on the trip, talking about our lives and the challenges we face along with the experience we are having.  I’ll lead by writing about the experience and sharing it publicly to inspire others.  And I’ll lead by showing my children not only what it means to be a leader but also how important it is to do it with grace.  To stay true to your values, morals, and ethics.  To do what’s right no matter what. 

At the Passover Seder we end with “l’shana haba’ah b’yerushalayim, Next Year in Jerusalem”.  I’ll end this blog by saying “Next Week in Jerusalem”. 

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.

Teachings from the Nova Music Festival

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

There are many dates that are significant in people’s lives.  December 7, 1941.  May 14, 1948.  November 22, 1963.  April 4, 1968.  June 6, 1968.  July 20, 1969.  March 28, 1979.  April 20, 1999.   September 11, 2001.  December 14, 2012.  February 14, 2018.  In Seattle, it was July 28, 2006. 

All the dates above are significant ones.  All have meaning in my life.  However, for me, October 7, 2023, is a date that changed who I am as a person.  Israel has always been an important part of my life and my identity.  I remember the stories of my grandparents listening on the transistor radio on November 25, 1947, as the UN voted on the partition plan to create a Jewish state.  My grandparents were passionate Zionists, and both sets of them went to visit Israel.  I am the rare American Jew who is the 3rd generation to visit Israel.  My first trip was the summer of 1989 and I have been a total of 20 times so far with my 21st planned for this year and hopefully my 22nd and 23rd as well. 

As I sat in my living room on October 7, 2023, watching the horrors on television and sending WhatsApp messages to my family and friends in Israel to check on them, I knew that I was different as a result.  I could tell that I was changed as a result of what was happening.  I will never forget the image shown over and over on television of a minivan on the side of the road.  The father was the driver and had been murdered, his head laying against the steering wheel.  His young daughter was laying on top of him, also murdered.  This was one vehicle among many that were shown. As more information and video came out, the horror increased.  I sat in my chair watching the reports and getting live info via WhatsApp from friends.  My friend Maor, the consul general from Israel to Florida reached out to check on me and told me to stop watching the news because it was bad for my mental health.  But I couldn’t.  Senator Rick Scott called me to check on how I was doing.  I was both shocked and grateful that he called.  I worked with some friends to put together a community gathering to express our pain and anger, to give the community an opportunity to grieve together and hopefully a chance to begin to heal.  We had US Representatives there, Florida Representatives there, members of the US Senate sent aides and so did members of the US Senate.  Mayor Jerry Demings and his wife, Representative Val Demings came.  I don’t remember what I said when I spoke but I remember is was passionate, direct, and was filled with emotion.

When it was announced there would be a rally in Washington, DC, on the mall, I knew I had to be there.  I knew that both for my own soul and to be able to answer with integrity what I did after October 7th by my future grandchildren, I had to show up.  Being there with 300,000 other people was an amazing experience.  We sang Hatikvah together, heard from amazing speakers, carried our signs, chanted “Bring them home” about the hostages.  It was a feeling I will never forget. 

Riding the Metro to the rally when we broke into song. Am Yisrael Chai!

As time moved on, I learned of 4 friends that had family members taken hostage.  Six people taken on October 7th by Hamas.  Ultimately, four of them have been released.  One turned 13 the day after she was released.  Her mom was released day after her birthday.  My friends and I put together a campaign to get her birthday and Hanukkah presidents.  The video of her with the presents is priceless.  It made my heart sign.  Even today, watching it brings joy to my heart and soul.  This precious child was kidnapped, held as a hostage, kept in tunnels, and was traumatized.  To see her smile with these presents warms my being.

I worked with the Israel consulate to host a showing of the 47-minute Hamas video for politicians, law enforcement, and some members of the community.  Many told me that they couldn’t watch it.  Many told me that I shouldn’t watch it.  It was painful to see but for me, bearing witness was essential.  There are images I saw that I will never forget.  The cries of two little boys after their father was murdered in front of them, one having lost the sight in one eye.  Their mother coming to site hours later and seeing her husband lying dead in the doorway of the safe room.  Beheadings.  Blood smeared all over a room where people were executed.  Terrorists calling their parents to brag about how many Jews they killed and hearing the excitement not just in their voice but the voice of their parents.  It was the same type of pride I felt with my children when they graduated high school and college except this pride was for the murder of Jews.  It was horrifying to see and yet, I can’t imagine having not seen what the terrorists of Hamas did to my Jewish mishpacha (family). 

A friend of mine in Israel was recalled into the IDF and was the head of operations in Gaza.  He told me about what he did on October 7th to try to save people.  He spent 120 days in Gaza, coordinating the efforts to eliminate Hamas and free the hostages.  I got occasional messages and worried about his safety every day.  After 4 months of service, he was released from service temporarily to decompress.  He came to the United States for work related projects and happened to be in Orlando.  We had a chance to get together and during that time he shared a bit of what it was like during those 120 days.  How many times he was nearly killed.  He told me that the flight from Israel to America was incredibly difficult for him because it was the first time he had experienced quiet in 120 days, and he finally had a chance to process what happened.  I showed him the video of the little girl opening her birthday and Hanukkah presents after being a hostage.  The look on his face is one I will never forget.  It’s why he does everything he does. 

I attended the AIPAC Policy Summit in Washington, DC, just a few weeks ago.  We heard from parents of a current hostage.  We heard from a young woman whose parents were murdered while her brother hid under the bed, lying in their blood and urine for hours.  We heard from a survivor from the Nova Music Festival.  It’s always powerful to hear from our national politicians however it was nothing compared to hearing from those who were impacted by October 7th.  On the last morning on the Summit, we learned that a US citizen who was taken hostage was murdered by Hamas.  We all gasped at the news and the room was filled with sorrow.

Later that day, I finally went to get the tattoos I had wanted for a few months.  One is the words of Mia Schem, a hostage taken from the Nova Music Festival.  She said, and then got tattooed on her arm, “We will dance again.  7.10.23”.  I proudly have that on the inside of my right forearm.  The other one is a tree and under the roots it says NOVA  7.10.23.  They are constant reminders to me of the horrors of October 7th, of the rise of antisemitism, how we will always be Jews first and foremost, and that there is no need to hide being Jewish, my pride in my Jewish identity, and the importance of Israel to me.

I felt like I had been through the ringer since October 7th.  Powerful emotions, loss, fear, concern, anger, frustration – you name it, I have felt it.  I have wanted to go to Israel since October 7th however my family has not wanted me to go yet, so I have waited.  It’s been incredibly difficult for me not to go, not to be there, not to take action to do my part for Israel and the Israeli people.  The concept of Shalom Bayit (peace in the home) has been more important however it hasn’t been easy.  Initially I was going in March 2024 that was postponed until May 2024.  That date may even be changed.

So having been through the ringer, when there was a showing this week of the new documentary about the Nova music festival, I wanted to go.  I had no expectations about the movie or the speaker afterwards.  I think that was good because if I had expected the experience to have the impact that it did, I may not have gone. 

The documentary was shown through the eyes of those who were attending the music festival.  It’s not what I expected.  I didn’t expect it to be quite so ‘first person’ view.  You could hear the music, see the dancing, and celebrate with joy the fun those who were there enjoyed.  It reminded me of many things I used to do with my friends at that age.  When the rockets started at sunrise, it was strange hearing them talk about ‘fireworks’ because we already know they were rockets, but those at the festival didn’t at first.  Then they saw Iron Dome taking them out and they still had no idea what was coming.  As somebody who knew what terror was about to happen, it was hard to watch them in real time, make assumptions that we all would have made at that time.  You begin to see the terrorists arrive on bikes, trucks, and gliders.  You hear their joy and excitement because they are about to murder and rape and kidnap Jews.  I saw that in the Hamas video, but this one was different as it contrasted with those attending the festival.  Flipping back and forth between the arriving terrorists and the festival goers who didn’t know what was happening truly felt like a horror movie. 

As they began to run and hide, the videos shown were more from those hiding.  You could feel their anxiety as they recorded messages.  Some send goodbye messages to their families.  Some spoke to their parents who begged them to hide, play dead, do anything to survive.  The one thing that really hit home was their expectation that the army and the police would come rescue them.  As Ambassador Michael Oren has said, it was part of the covenant between the State of Israel and the people.  The army, the IDF, would always be there to protect them.  On October 7th, they weren’t.  Not only could you feel the loss of trust from those hiding, I felt it personally.  I always had incredible support and admiration for the IDF.  High expectations.  We don’t know what happened or why they were so unprepared on October 7th but the reality is they were unprepared.  They weren’t there when they were needed.  That loss of trust is palpable.  It doesn’t surprise me that over 300,000 reservists returned to duty after October 7th, more than were recalled and far more than were expected. 

There is a saying in the Talmud, “Kol Arevim Ze LaZeh (or BaZeh depending)”.  It means “All of Israel (or all of the Jewish community) is responsible for each other.”  It’s commonly said by Rabbis during a sermon urging us to do a little bit more.  On October 7th, it showed me what it really means.  We are all one.  What happens to one of us happens to all of us.  If we don’t stand together to take care of each other, nobody will stand with us and we will all fall.  It’s why I have struggled with not going to Israel since October 7th.  In my heart, in my soul, I need to be there helping in any way that I can.  I also need to be here with my family.  It’s my own internal struggle that I face and deal with on a daily basis. 

The end of the movie is when the IDF does finally show up, approximately 7 hours after the attack began.  I have seen this footage before and in the movie, they chose to blur out the dead bodies lying around the festival.  The footage I saw showed the bodies.  It was horrific. You could hear the urgency in the IDF soldiers voices as they cried to out for any survivors.  Is there anybody alive?  And reporting to everybody else that everybody they found is dead.  It’s a sobering sight.  It reminded me of the pictures from US soldiers discovering the Nazi death camps but now in real time for me.  The first time I saw that footage, I was struck by the number of people who were murdered, who were lying there dead only because they were Jews.  This time it was the voices of the IDF soldiers, devastated that by the time they arrived, there was nobody to save.  I felt their failure through their voices.  The breaking of that covenant.  The change occurring for all Israelis and Jews in the diaspora.   The need to look deep within and ask, “What am I doing?  How can I help?  What’s my obligation?” 

WARNING – The video below is GRAPHIC. You may not want to watch it.

THIS IS GRAPHIC – THE IDF ARRIVES AT THE NOVA MUSIC FESTIVAL TO FIND EVERYBODY DEAD

The movie ended, the lights turned on, blinding us for a moment.  I think we needed that moment of blindness to return us from the horrors occurring at the Nova Festival on October 7th to the current day. 

Lee Sasi, a young woman from Los Angeles, who is a survivor of the Nova music festival massacre, took the podium and began to speak to us. 

Here is a video interview she did with Jake Tapper of CNN on October 11th.  The story she told us was similar to what she shares here, only with more detail.  The way Jake Tapper is stunned and doesn’t know what to say is how we felt listening to her months later.    Her pain, expressed days later, was no different when she spoke to us.

https://www.cnn.com/videos/world/2023/10/11/the-lead-lee-sasi-jake-tapper-live.cnn

Here is her interview with Chris Cuomo.  It is hard to watch without tears coming to my eyes.  The brutality of Hamas.  The sacrifice of her uncle. 

https://www.newsnationnow.com/video/survivor-of-israel-festival-attack-was-saved-by-uncle-%e2%80%98he%e2%80%99s-a-legend%e2%80%99-cuomo/9075461

I get angry when I hear about Israel’s ‘indiscriminate killing’ of Gazan citizens, because it’s not true.  The data, even using the numbers provided by Hamas, shows that the civilian to military casualty rate is approximately 1:1, one of the lowest ever.  The UN reports that the normal rate is 9:1, meaning 90% of all casualties in war are civilians.  This means that Israel is 9 times better than the accepted ratio by the world.  War is awful and innocent people die.  It’s why we need to try to avoid war at all costs.  But when we can’t, we have to fight the evil.  Hamas is the evil that is involved with indiscriminate killings.  Listen to Lee’s description of how the terrorists fired into the bunker of civilians.  How they threw grenades into a mass of civilians.  How they executed a man in front of the bunker as he yelled to them in Arabic, “I am an Arab, I am an Arab.”

Listening to Lee speak about what happened at the Nova festival and the horrors and evil of Hamas impacted me deeply.  It became more personal than before.  It reinforced how essential it is that we fight against evil because if we don’t eliminate evil, if we allow evil to live, it will grow.  And evil will destroy all of us, just like Hamas executed the Bedouin man outside the shelter who was yelling to them that he was an Arab.  Evil doesn’t care. 

We see this in our own country as people are choosing to attack Jews in the name of Palestinian freedom.  How does a synagogue being attacked help the people of Gaza?  How does protesting a Jewish actor just for being Jewish, not for any statement or action, help get food to the people of Gaza?  How does blocking streets in America help stop the corruption of UNRWA who isn’t delivering the humanitarian aid to the people of Gaza and instead is giving it to Hamas who is keeping it or selling it on the back market?  Listen to what the people of Gaza are saying.  The humanitarian aid costs too much to buy.  IT’S FREE unless Hamas is stealing it.  The food packages don’t include any meat or protein.  That’s because HAMAS IS STEALING IT. 

I worry about not just the future of Israel but the future of the United States, of Europe and of the world.  We are allowing evil to win.  Hearing Lee Sasi share her story forces me to increase my efforts to fight evil.  After coming home from the event, I reached out to friends of mine who are Palestinians in Bethlehem, East Jerusalem, and Beit Jala.  I wanted to check on them, reaffirm our friendship, and set up a time for us to talk about what the future may look like and what we can do together, to fight evil and change the world.  I urge you to do the same with your friends, wherever they are.  Start in your local community.  Reach out to people who are different than you and get a cup of coffee.  Have a conversation.  Begin by agreeing that you want a better world and perhaps you disagree on how to get there.  Start the process.

We owe it to Lee Sasi, her uncle who sacrificed his life to save hers and others, and all those murdered on October 7th to make the world a better place.  We owe it to all those who have lost their lives as a result of the evil of Hamas to not let their deaths be in vain.  We can change the world but it takes our effort, our commitment, and our dedication to make it happen.  We need all of us to do our part. 

Israel’s 1948 covenants with the Jewish people

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

On Monday I listened to Ambassador Michael Oren speak about what’s going on in Israel.  He talked about many different topics, and each was fascinating.  The one that struck me the deepest was the covenant created in 1948 between the Israeli Government and the Israeli people and how October 7th violated that covenant for the first time.

Ambassador Michael Oren and me

I found the use of the word covenant significant as this is the basis for the Jewish people, our covenant made between Abraham and God.  I don’t think Ambassador Oren used it indiscriminately but rather intentionally to connect the two covenants: the one between God and Abraham and the one between the Israeli government and the Israeli/Jewish people.  He told us that there were two covenants between the Israeli government and the Israeli people made in 1948, both of which were broken on October 7th.

The first covenant relates to the fact that literally almost 3 years to the day that the Shoah ended, David Ben Gurion issued the Declaration of Independence, creating the State of Israel.  At that time, the covenant was ‘Never Again’.  Now that we had a country and would have an army, something like the Shoah would never happen again.  Yet on October 7th, Hamas terrorists murdered the largest number of Jews since the Shoah.  The government and the army did not protect the people and allowed it to happen.  The how and why will be determined at a later date, but the covenant was broken.  

The second covenant was that the Government would never leave anybody behind.  Whatever the cost to get Jews and Israelis back when taken hostage or captive would be paid for their return.  When Gilad Shalit was taken hostage, the eventual deal to release him meant that Israel traded 1,027 prisoners, terrorists, murderers, in exchange for Gilad.  It was a heavy price to pay, especially in hindsight since one of them was Yahya Sinwar, the head of Hamas and architect of the October 7th attacks.  While being controversial at the time, it was this covenant that led to it happening.  Since that trade and what Sinwar has become and done, Israel has not been willing to pay whatever the price required to release all the hostages.  As a result, we are now in day 132 of the hostages being held.  Israel’s security needs are outweighing the price being demanded by Hamas, breaking this covenant as well.  This is why we see families of hostages blocking the road where humanitarian aid is being delivered by Israel.  It is why former MK Einat Wilf recently stated that Israel should not have given or permitted any humanitarian aid to Gaza unless they released the hostages.  It is why Israel hasn’t filled the tunnels with gasoline and thrown in a match, eliminating Hamas leadership, who are hiding in the tunnels.  The hostages are also in the tunnels and getting them back is required.

In November 2013 I had the honor of meeting Gilad Shalit (pictured with his girlfriend)

As he spoke to us and shared these two covenants, I began to think about how many people have no understanding of what’s going on.  The LGBTQ+ community in support of Hamas, who would execute them for existing.  Women who stand up against sexual violence everywhere yet remain quiet when it’s Israeli/Jewish women because somehow it was justified.   The cries of genocide as the number of people in Gaza continue to increase year after year after year.  Calling Israel an apartheid state while not understanding the definition or how it goes against everything being Jewish is about.  Ethnic cleansing when the exact opposite is happening and while the arab states in the region have removed all or almost of all their Jews. 

The cries of indiscriminate killing by Israel is absurd.  There is data, based on what Hamas has unreliably provided, that prove this fact.  In December 2023, an article highlighted the data analysis that proved this to be false.  This data analysis shows that

Our analysis of reported deaths in Gaza in the 2014 and 2023 conflicts rules out any allegations of “indiscriminate killing” of civilians; it suggests rather that the opposite is true. The data highlight a clear and significant excess of deaths amongst males, and particularly those aged 20-39 who would be the most likely in the combatant population. This finding was consistent in both the 2014 and 2023 conflicts, which refutes any such allegation in both wars.

In addition, in his most recent substack piece, Ambassador Oren breaks down the unreliable data provided by Hamas to show that the civilian to combatant fatality rate in Gaza is one to one.  He also documents that according to The New York Times, the Boston Globe, and the Watson Institute of Brown University, in America’s wars in Syria, Iraq, and Afghanistan, the ratio was four civilians killed for every combatant. The record for NATO’s 1999 intervention in Serbia was similarly four-to-one.   Israel is 4 times better in Gaza than the United States was in Syria, Iraq, and Afghanistan as well NATO in Serbia, yet Israel is accused of indiscriminate killing.

A friend of mine who is very liberal, has reached out a lot since October 7th with questions.  Things he didn’t know and after October 7th and the rise in antisemitism, he wants to learn.  He is always stunned that the more he learns, the less things make sense.  The clearer the situation becomes; the murkier reality is.  We chat online regularly throughout the week.  I appreciate his questions as they come from a place of inquiry.  We need to continue to encourage the asking of questions and the often times hard answers.  Hasbara is no longer enough.  We must confront the challenges that exist in order to take advantage of the opportunities that come as a result. 

Most days I find myself frustrated with the media and the lack of honest reporting.  Another friend, who is not Jewish, asked me today, “How come we don’t hear much about the hostages anymore?”  Since I hear about them every day, put my masking tape on with the updated number of days they have been hostages every day, wear my Bring Them Home Now dogtag and my We Will Dance Again dogtag every day and choose not to watch or listen to most of the main stream media, I didn’t realize the coverage has disappeared.  As the cries for ‘Cease Fire Now’ continue, I wonder why ‘Bring the home now’ isn’t just as loud or louder?  As the cries for more humanitarian aid get louder, I wonder why the fact that the UN and UNRWA aren’t even picking up the truckloads of aid that are dropped off for them to pick up daily.  As the proof of UNRWA being both a funder of Hamas and that so many of the UNRWA employees are members of Hamas continues to grow, why the demand that they must continue even exists.  Now that it’s been shown that the hostages never got the medication that was supposed to be given to them, why is the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) still in existence?  133 days as hostages and not a single visit from the ICRC.  Isn’t that their entire reason for existing?

This picture, from February 15, 2024, shows the content of 500 trucks of humanitarian aid on the Gazan side of Kerem Shalom, AFTER Israeli inspection, waiting to be picked up and distributed by UN orgs. It was the 3rd day in a row that hundreds of trucks are not picked up and distributed to the people of Gaza by UNRWA.

I remember growing up and being told by my grandparents and my Rabbi that being Jewish wasn’t easy.  That being Jewish meant we had to do more than the minimum.  That we had obligations that went far beyond what was acceptable as the norm.  That we have a history of being hated that wasn’t going away.  In their wildest dreams, I don’t think my grandparents, my father, or my Rabbi could have imagined the world as it is today.  I am 100% sure that my grandparents and my father would be cheering on the IDF and encouraging them to finish the job.  Not because they hate the Palestinian people or the Gazan people.  It would be because the loved the Jewish people and they know that if we don’t protect ourselves, nobody else will.  We have thousands of years of proof of that.  Luckily, today we have Israel and the IDF to ensure the survival of the Jewish people.  It may not be pretty, and it certainly isn’t what any of us want to be happening.  It also is what is necessary to ensure that the Jewish people and the State of Israel continue to flourish.  My heart breaks for the innocent civilians who have been killed because of Hamas and their use of human shields and terror.  My heart breaks for innocent people who have lost everything because of Hamas.  I wish them no ill will.  But my heart is broken and will remain broken for my Jewish brothers and sisters who were murdered on October 7th.  For my IDF brothers and sisters who paid the ultimate price for the survival of the Jewish people.  For the families who have lost loved ones or still have loved ones as hostages.  For all those displaced as a result of Hamas’s hatred

The creation of the modern State of Israel means the Jewish people will no longer be sheep led to slaughter.  That may bother a lot of antisemites and I don’t care. 

Am Yisrael Chai.  Never Again. 

Sacrifice and the Zac Brown Band

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

I have loved the Zac Brown Band since I first heard their music.  There is a great energy and it’s fun to listen and sing along.  The lyrics tend to be upbeat and happy just like the music.  As I was listening to one of their biggest hits, Chicken Fried, last night, a section of the lyrics hit me very differently than ever before.  It’s because of October 7th and the aftermath of the Israel-Hamas war, the incredible rise of antisemitism and Jew hatred in this country, and what is happening on college campuses.

The lyrics I refer to are:

I thank God for my life and for the stars and stripes. May freedom forever fly, let it ring. Salute the ones who died. The ones that give their lives, so we don’t have to sacrifice all the things we love. Like our chicken fried and cold beer on a Friday night. A pair of jeans that fit just right and the radio up.

I have always loved those lyrics because as an American, I am truly grateful for those who serve in our military.  I do thank God for my life, for the freedom that exists in America, and for the sacrifices those who serve make every day so that I get to live such a wonderful life.  I truly believe in the slogan, “Home of the free Because of the Brave”.

As I listened to them now, I heard something very different because of what’s going on in Israel.  I have many friends who are currently serving in the IDF in Gaza or in the north, recalled from the reserves.  I have many friends who have children who were recalled from the reserves or are currently serving in the IDF.  I have friends whose relatives were taken hostage by Hamas or were murdered by Hamas on October 7th.  I have connections to a number of IDF soldiers who have died in the war. 

The lines “Salute the ones who died.  The ones that gave their lives, so we don’t have to sacrifice all the things that we love.” really bothered me this time.  As I thought of how Israel recalled 300,000 reservists and expected no more than 250,000 to show up, yet 360,000 actually did show up.  When I think of the hostages still kept in Gaza by Hamas and the IDF soldiers valiantly fighting hand to hand combat to try to rescue them, it’s hard to align that with us not wanting to sacrifice the things we love.  In Israel, they are sacrificing the things they love for the future of Israel and the Jewish people.  They are willing to sacrifice their loved ones.  Their parents, children, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends in defense of Israel and the Jewish people.  They’d gladly sacrifice some comfort food, a cold beer, a comfortable pair of jeans and loud music to get their loved ones back.

I started thinking of all the things we take for granted in our lives and all the people who sacrifice in order for us to have them.  The ability to go to a summer camp as a child.  It wasn’t inexpensive and my parents and grandparents had to sacrifice so we could go.  I went to Jewish Day School for a year, my brother for many years.  We all know private school, especially Jewish private schools, are not inexpensive. Yet another sacrifice.  As parents, my wife and I made the decision that we did not want our kids working while in school. This included college.  Their primary job was school and their education, with their involvement in other things as a secondary priority.  They could work if they wanted but only if their schoolwork, their primary job, was strong. It meant we took care of their spending money, car insurance, etc.  Not a huge sacrifice but we felt an important one. 

My CIT year at Camp Airy (with the girls who were CITs at Camp Louise). What a magical summer. My many years at summer camp only came with sacrifice from my parents and grandparents.

Working as a camp counselor after years of being a camper. I’m still in touch with a number of these guys nearly 40 years later. Thanks mom and dad, grandma and grandpa.

As I am contemplating sacrifice and how, as Americans, we are so entitled, I learned about another example.  Idan Amedi, a well-known Israeli singer and actor, who starred in the amazing TV show Fauda’s as Sagi, was seriously injured in Gaza while voluntarily serving in the IDF. Despite having every excuse not to fight, Idan felt it was his duty to protect his country.   Can you imagine Mark Ruffalo, Brad Pitt, Melissa Barrera, Kanye West or Gigi and Bella Hadid doing this? Can you imagine Susan Sarandon letting her children defend the country?  They are happy to take their money and speak out without knowledge but actually make a sacrifice?

Idan Amedi, known by many as the character Sagi from Fauda. 

Highlighting Idan, a celebrity and entertainer, is the American way to view things.  In Israel, Idan is no different that the father or mother who leaves their family, the business owner who leaves their business not knowing what will be there when they return or many other Israelis who put the country first rather than allowing others to make the sacrifice for them.. 

When I think about things like chicken fried, cold beer, jeans that fit right or loud music in this context, I get angry.  Why?  Because of the things that we choose to matter are really so unimportant, so shallow, especially with hostages still held in Gaza by Hamas. These innocent people who were kidnapped and have been held in brutal conditions for over 100 days.  Kfir Babis turned 1 year old this week, having spent a quarter of his life as a hostage, living underground. 

Kfir at 8 or 9 months old just before being taken as a hostage by Hamas. We can only hope and pray he is still alive now that he turned 1 in captivity.

Karin Ariev, Daniela Gilboa, and Agam Berger, all 19 years old, and Liri Albag, 18 years old, brutalized by Hamas for more than 3 months. We can’t imagine how they are being treated. We cannot forget them.

I think about the atrocities on October 7th and the promises to continue to do it again and again and again by Hamas leadership and I understand, as much as I can living in America, the need for sacrifice. I’ve seen the 47 minute Hamas video. This story below is horrifying but shows the evil of Hamas and why we must never allow evil to continue, even at great personal and communal sacrifice

WARNING – this is hard to listen to so before you hit play, be prepared.

The hostages have not been seen by the Red Cross.  They have not been given medicine.  No human rights organizations are crying for their release or to see them.  You can read what the hostages who have been released report it was like and imagine how much worse it is for those 136.  Do they know there are people in the world who care about them, or do they feel forgotten?  They surely don’t care about a cold beer, chicken fried food, a pair of jeans, or listening to music.  They are paying a horrible price in the fight for Israel and the Jewish people.

 A total of 136 people remain as hostages in Gaza, held by Hamas, after being kidnapped.Their names are listed here. We must never forget them and remember their names and that each one of them is a person with a family.


It’s a lesson to us about priorities and taking responsibility.  In the world we live in, with the situation and challenges we face in America, perhaps learning to take personal responsibility and to serve the greater good is what is sorely needed.

I became obsessed with the writing and thoughts of Kareem Abdul Jabbar a few years ago.  He always makes me think just a little deeper.  In his most recent writing, he highlights a quote from Taika Waititi’s recent soccer movie Next Goal Wins. As Kareem writes, “an American coach is being punished for his on-field outbursts by being assigned to coach a team from American Samoa that not only has never won a game but never scored a single goal. The hard-drinking loner lost in grief for his dead daughter is soon welcomed into the local community where their warmth and love heals him. At one point, the coach tells the local man who has helped him understand the Samoan way of life that he can’t win the game. The man’s response: “Then lose. But don’t lose alone, lose with us.”

In Israel, the people are fighting together.  Politics have been put aside.  Personal grievances are not important.  The wants and needs of the individual are not the focus but the needs of the country are front and center.  The required sacrifice of every person who lives there is something to aspire to.  Jew, Muslim, Christian, Druze, it doesn’t matter.  They are all Israelis and will win or lose together.  They are committed to doing everything they can to win because losing isn’t an option, just like losing alone isn’t an option for the Samoan talking to the coach in the movie. It often seems that in America, we’d rather lose alone.

The song Chicken Fried is lighthearted and meant to be.  Yet there is a powerful lesson to be learned about allowing others to make major sacrifices for our personal pleasure.  I’m grateful to those that keep us safe so we get to live the way do, but I won’t ever take them for granted.  One of my favorite camp counselors was a Viet Nam veteran and I personally saw the impact of the war on him as well as the lack of support he, and those who served, got from the public when they returned. Its something I will never forget. I pray for a quick, safe, and successful end to the war in Gaza, I also pray for the families of and those serving in both the IDF and the US military, for the families of those who have made the ultimate sacrifice, and for those still held in captivity and their families by Hamas. 

Perhaps the lyrics should really be

I thank God for my life and for the stars and stripes. May freedom forever fly, let it ring. Salute the ones who died. The ones that give their lives, and those who continue to serve, so we can continue to live in freedom. Like our freedom of religion, freedom of speech, freedom of the press, and the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

It’s not as catchy, but sure rings truer.

I took this picture myself and wanted to end this post with something hopeful and beautiful. Being there and just looking at the picture and reflecting gives me great hope for the future. 

The power of stories

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

Today has been a day focused on stories.  I have found that stories have the most impact and do my best to be a storyteller throughout my career.  As I continue to focus on what’s happening in the war between Israel and Hamas, I find myself captivated by the stories that are now coming out.  Some are sad.  Some are uplifting.  Some are horrifying.  They all are powerful.

When I woke up this morning and began my morning routine of reading various news sources that I like to read (The Free Press, Daniel Gordis and Kareem Abdul Jabbar on substack, 1040 Daily Digest, eJewishPhilanthropy, Jewish Insider Daily, Philanthropy Today, FLAME, and all my sports news), I was struck immediately by the story of Iris Haim. 

Iris’s son Yotam was taken hostage by Hamas on October 7th and brought into Gaza.  He and two others managed to escape and were thought to be terrorists and mistakenly killed by IDF soldiers the other day.  It’s a heartbreaking story.  And yet just days later, here is Iris speaking out to the IDF soldiers who mistakenly killed her son, telling them that she loves them.  That she wants them to visit her so she can give them a hug.  That she knows in the moment they did what they thought was right and what was needed.  Tears came to my eyes as I looked at the picture of her and Yotam while listening to her place the blame where it belongs, on Hamas for taking her son hostage, and sending love to the IDF soldiers.  I can’t imagine what she is going through nor what the IDF soldiers are going through.  It was an extraordinary expression of forgiveness and love.  I had tears in my eyes and have watched in many times to see true humanity.  You can watch the video and below it see her on TV just a few weeks ago talking about Yotam and IDF soldiers who were killed. 

I continued to explore the news and saw a horrific story about the music festival.  Hamas terrorists took the phone of an Israeli at the festival, used his facial recognition to open it, and videoed their torture of him (I won’t write what they did but you can watch the video and learn) and the murder of 9 others at the festival.  They then used his WhatsApp to send the video to all of his friends and then sent it to him mother.  I can’t imagine what his mother thought when she got a message from him, knowing he was at the festival that was under attack, opened it, and saw her son being tortured, mutilated, and humiliated and other friends being murdered.  The brutality is astounding.  I went from being inspired and overwhelmed by love to pure anger and rage.  This is why Israel can’t stop until Hamas is removed and their leadership eliminated.  They are pure evil.  Here is the video that I watched – remember there is graphic description of what happened so be prepared.

As my day came to a close, I read two more stories.  The first was about 85-year-old Yaffa Adar, who shared her story of how she survived 49 days in Hamas captivity.  “Every morning, I’d sing to myself Bocelli and say, ‘God, maybe this will bring a good day. Maybe today will bring [my release],’” she recalled, admitting that for a long time that day never came.

It reminded me of the story of Osama who I met in 2019 and was involved with Combatants for Peace.  He life was changed when he was at his lowest point in prison and was ready to give up when he heard somebody humming a song.  That music gave him hope.  A few years later, at his first Shabbat dinner, they began by singing Shalom Aleichem.  Osama broke down in tears because he realized this was the song that saved his life. 

This story inspired Andrea Bocelli as well, who wrote to Yaffa.  You can read about it and what Bocelli wrote to Yaffa here.  It’s a powerful statement about the power of music and the understanding that our actions and what we give to the world may have much more power than we ever imagine at the time we are doing.

The final story comes from a friend of mine, Sherri Mandell.  Her husband, Rabbi Seth Mandell, was the Hillel Director when I was at Penn State, but I didn’t go to Hillel and never met him there.  He left to be the Hillel Director at University of Maryland, where one of my best friends worked for him.  He later made Aliyah and lived in Tekoah. In May 2001, while living in Tekoah, his 13-year-old son, Koby Mandell, and his friend Yosef Ish Ran were murdered by terrorists near their home.   They started the Koby Mandell Foundation and that’s how and when I met Sherri and Seth. 

In the article today, she writes about how the Israeli government asked permission to show pictures of Koby and Yosef in 2001 and they declined, thinking it would be too hard on them and their family to have them public.  In the aftermath of October 7th, she questions the decision back then and grapples with the balance between personal need and the need for the world to see these atrocities because it didn’t take 30 days for people to begin denying they occurred.  It’s a powerful piece by a mother who has unfortunately dealt with this personally.  Sherri’s book, The Blessing of a Broken Heart , is the most painful book I have ever tried to read  I say tried to read because as a father, I had to put it down about halfway through because my heart was breaking and I was crying.  I tried to get through it out of a feeling of obligation, but I couldn’t.  As I read the piece by Sherri, I found myself thinking of visiting them at their home, meeting their other children, listening to them speak about Koby and the work of the foundation, my own children, and the world we live in today 

Two stories were uplifting. One was horrifying. One filled with sadness. All are emotional. As my day comes to a close, I find myself wondering both if and when we can all find the blessing of our broken hearts.

Trouble sleeping after the video so a (very) long post to discuss

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

I saw the video of the Hamas atrocities from October 7, 2023, this past Thursday, December 14, 2023.  It was 47 minutes of horrifying video of the worst that people do to each other.  It was evil incarnate.  The Israel consulate shared with us that they have even worse video that they won’t share because it’s both too horrifying and because they don’t want to traumatize the families of the victims.  After what I viewed, I completely understand and don’t want or need to see that footage.

A friend asked me the next day if I was able to sleep that night, having just witnessed these atrocities and I told them that I had slept ok and was still processing everything that I saw and that I felt and integrating it with conversations I have had with family and friends living in Israel, some actively serving in the IDF and in the middle of the war.

I appreciate the sleep I had the night of Thursday December 14 because I haven’t slept well since.  The more I process, the more I think about it, the more I share with others about the experience, the more I feel my feelings, the worse I sleep.  There is so much that disturbs me about October 7, about what I hear from my Israeli family and friends, about the news coverage and what is happening in our country, what some of our Representatives and Senators in Washington are saying and doing, the United Nations, The International Red Cross, the loss of life that is occurring, all juxtaposed on my own experiences in Israel, with Israeli-Arabs, with Israeli Druze families, and with Palestinians.  My mind constantly spins with many thoughts that consume me.

On my 2019 Encounter trip to Israel, I spent 4 days meeting with leaders of Palestinian civil society and became friends with 4 amazing people.  I have found myself thinking about them often since the video.  They want peace with Israel.  They are vocal about Israel’s right to exist.  They are the people we need to have a larger voice. 

One of them, Ali Abu-Awaad, came to Orlando and spoke to a crowd that was half Israeli just before the pandemic.  The Israelis were blown away as they had never heard a Palestinian speak like that.  I’ll never forget what he said in Ramallah and in Orlando.  “The path to peace is not through Jewish blood.  It is through Jewish hearts.  We have to give the Jewish people a reason to trust us.”  How are they doing?  What are they feeling? 

I think of Osama, who was taught to hate the ‘Yehuds’ from birth, found redemption in an Israeli jail, through Combatants for Peace, and at a Shabbat dinner.  Does he still keep a kippah in his pocket because he never knows when he’ll be invited to Shabbat dinner? (A direct quote from him).  Does he still believe in a better future or has this shaken his hope for the future.

I think of Mahmoud, the owner of the Palestinian bookstore in East Jerusalem, where the password for Wi-Fi was “JerusalemIsOurs” and yet his startling admission to us later that evening that “If Zionism means the Jews have a right to the land and we also have a right to the land, then I am a Zionist.”  This came from somebody who a few years early thought Zionism was evil.  I think of the former Hamas member and former member of the Al Aqsa Brigade that I had lunch with one day.  Are they still on a path to peace or has this brought back their hatred and desire for violence?

I think about my friends and family in Israel.  I check in regularly.  My friends and family in Jerusalem are largely safe but also emotionally impacted.  Most of them have family living elsewhere that are at risk or have children, relatives, and/or friends who are actively serving.  Reading the names of the soldiers lost every day is a painful daily occurrence where we hope and pray not to know any of the names and then feeling guilty that we didn’t know the brave soldiers who paid the ultimate price for the Jewish people and the State of Israel. 

I think about my friends who live on Bitzaron, a Moshav in the south of Israel.  On October 7 we texted via WhatsApp as they hid in their safe room, hoping that terrorists wouldn’t come to their Moshav.  We have kept in touch throughout the time since and I have shared the aching in my soul to be in Israel, volunteering, helping to cook, clean, harvest crops, or do whatever they need me to do.  They have told me not to come yet, it wasn’t safe yet, wait a little longer.   Last week they messaged me, asking if I could come to help them with harvesting the crops as many are reservists, called up to fight in this war, and they don’t have enough people to harvest the crops.  It broke my heart telling them I couldn’t come now, as my family doesn’t want me to go because of their fears for my safety.  My wife has been to Israel 5 times and knows the realities.  My kids have seen me go to Israel most of their lives and know my love and passion for the country and the people.  They know how much I want to go and yet, as of now, I won’t go in order to honor their needs.  And yet I think of Irit and Avi and the Moshav and their crops and the need for food for the country and am left so conflicted.

I think of my friends and their children who are currently serving on the front lines.  I think of their bravery.  Some close to my age yet still on the front lines.  Others are 18, 19, 20, 21 – younger than my own children – who are doing what is needed for the Jewish people and the State of Israel.  I worry about them every single day, those serving in the South and in Gaza as well as those in the north dealing with Hezbollah.  I pray for their safety and that this war ends successfully soon so they can return to their lives.

I think of my friends who have family members that were either murdered on October 7 or were taken hostage.  The two that I know were hostages have thankfully been released.  I have previously written about Hila, kidnapped at 12 years old and released the day before her 13th birthday.  I’m so grateful to everybody who went to the Amazon page we set up to buy her birthday and Hanukkah gifts so she would feel the love from the worldwide Jewish and non-Jewish community.  Everything we listed and added and added was purchased and sent to her.  Her mother was released just after Hila’s birthday, so they are together but how are they doing?  How shattered are they?  How will they recover?  I have a little relief knowing that all of us joined together to help in our small way for her birthday and for Hanukkah to bring some light to their darkness. 

I think about those who are still hostages.  Are they alive?  Do they believe we haven’t forgotten them?  What about the infant and the children?  What about the women who were raped and taken captive?  Are they still being raped?  Are some of them now pregnant with their rapist’s baby?  Will they ever be released?  We are now getting daily reports of hostages murdered in captivity by Hamas.  Are they all dead and we are just waiting to hear the news day by day?  What about the tragic shooting of 3 escaped hostages by the IDF?  Are there more hostages that escaped?  What about the IDF soldiers who shot them – they were trying to keep safe and alive and now have to live with this for the rest of their lives. 

I think about those in Gaza who will remain after Hamas is removed.  How do we take care of them so that they believe in peace and in a future without violence, with prosperity and freedom?  How and who will rebuild Gaza?  I pray it will be the Abraham Accord countries who have the resources and can help put in a new government that will benefit the people of Gaza and give them a chance for a meaningful and fulfilling life that occurs peacefully next to their neighbor, Israel.  Is there hope?  Will we lose focus and leave them to be ‘saved’ by Iranian money once again? 

I think about all those calling for a “Ceasefire Now” because it sounds wonderful and their believe it will save lives, not understanding that Hamas has said they will commit the same atrocities or worse again and again and again.  Their leadership has said this publicly, on video, multiple times.  “Ceasefire now” means let Hamas regroup, rearm, and begin to murder Israelis once again, continuing the cycle of violence and ensuring more die.  How do we help them see that evil must be eradicated.  That there is no diplomacy with evil.  The only trust that exists with evil is that they aren’t trustworthly.

I think about the International Red Cross and how they haven’t seen a single hostage in captivity in Gaza.  Their only role has been to serve as a taxi service for those being released.  How they refuse to ensure needed medication gets to the hostages.  The abject failure of this organization haunts me and angers me. 

I think about UNRWA and how ineffective they are and how they are actively keeping Hamas going and harming the citizens of Gaza.   The Gazan people are rioting and stealing the aid from the warehouses because they know Hamas will steal it from UNRWA and they won’t get the food and medicine and water being supplied daily.  I think about the UNRWA employees who kept hostages in their homes.  About the doctor at a hospital who kept a hostage in his home.  These are the ‘innocent civilians’ we hear about and they are not innocent, they are complicit.

I think about being safe in the United States and around the world.  I haven’t felt safe in a year and have taken steps and continue to take steps to ensure my safety and the safety of my family.  I wait for the violence against Jewish people in the United States to increase significantly.  I wait for the first of what I fear will be many Jewish mass casualties in the United States.

I’m sorry this is so long but now you know why I have trouble sleeping since watching the video.  You know what I think about when I am awake and when I close my eyes.