What October 7th Has Become
The Israelis for Peace Vigil this Wednesday, October 7th. Photo by Gili Getz
Dear friends,
Earlier this week I posted a note on the Israelis in Brooklyn Whatsapp group I’m in. A few people had posted invitations to different October 7th commemorations, so I added the Israelis for Peace one. No one responded until the morning of the 7th. The first thing I saw that morning was a note saying that Israelis for Peace want to destroy the state of Israel, and anyways, which peace can you make with Muslims? After some back and forth, and an intervention from others asking to maintain the sanctity of the day, it concluded with one person writing: “If the invitation to the IFP vigil is not removed from the chain I will leave the group.”
I could have known at this point what October 7th has become.
When I got my head back in place to move on with my day, I checked the Israeli newspapers. I learned there about the Nova victims’ families who received no support from the government so they had to create their own memorial ceremony at the site of the massacre, about the popular Israeli news host who the night before on air called the hostages’ families “the most despicable people in the country,” and about Netanyahu’s Military Secretary, who said that days before the massacre, an Egyptian Intelligence plane landed in Tel Aviv with a message about an upcoming attack from Gaza. “That kind of plane doesn’t come by for no reason,” he said, to which the Likkud responded by calling it a smear campaign and asserting that “Netanyahu received no prior warning.”
By this point I was getting the sense that this sad day had changed in nature.
That sense increased when I caught wind of the mayor’s statement for the day, and the powerful backlash against it. It was as though the day had abandoned its status as a memorial for the dead, and instead became a platform for arguments over what this day stands for. Is October 7th the day on which 1200 Israelis were brutally murdered, villages destroyed and hundreds taken into captivity in Gaza? Is it the day of the worst, most criminal security lapse in the history of Israel? Is it the day on which the Genocide in Gaza began? Is it the day on which the ethnic cleansing of Palestine continued into its next, far more brutal stage? Is it the day on which Jews started fearing for their lives again? Is it the day on which “Free Palestine” became a staple of the left? Is it the day on which the Middle East broke into open war? Is it the day on which Hamas brought complete destruction on the millions of people under its control? Is it the birth of AI dominated warfare? Is it the day that changed America’s relationship with Israel forever?
The answer I was sensing to all of these questions was no. It was none of these things. Instead, it was now a powerful force of division, argument and separation.
It all crystalized for me that evening in Union Square, at the Israelis for Peace Vigil. Mayor Mamdani was there, standing silently as names of the dead—both Israeli and Palestinian-- were read along with speeches, songs and prayers. Everything was hard to hear because of the approximately 100 so-called Pro-Palestinian protesters yelling chants of hate and waving Hamas flags at the mayor who had dared acknowledge the Israelis that were murdered three years earlier. They were clearly looking for a fight. But through the noise, those at the vigil who had gathered to mourn the dead remained silent, with what appeared as stoic detachment but in truth was a kind of proud, broken sadness.
At the funeral of Hersh Goldberg-Polin z”l, who was kidnapped from the Nova Festival and died over a year later in captivity, Hersh’s father, Jon famously said: “May his memory be a revolution.” My hope for October 7th, 2027 is that it will be the exact opposite of what it was this year. We don’t need another day of division; we need a day of coming together. We don’t need a day of cancellation; we need a day of affirmation. We don’t need a day in which the mourners are drowned out; we need a day in which they are attended to.
We need to acknowledge one another on this day. Yes, Israelis were murdered. And then, yes, Palestinians were murdered on a far greater scale. We each have our own emotional perspective, and we can, if we try, hear one another. This is not an easy task. There are bad actors everywhere. I have no interest in listening to the perspective of genocidal jihadist Americans holding a poster of Sinwar, nor in hearing the perspective of genocidal Jewish supremacists holding a poster of Netanyahu or Ben Gvir. But the vast majority of us live within the range of decency. In that space, I have plenty of room to listen. I trust, for example, that every one of you reading this letter is worth listening to, even if we disagree about certain things. Personally, I trust that our mayor is acting for good, even if I didn’t love parts of his statement.
Two beautiful things did happen on Wednesday. Our own Rob Kaufelt offered to be the lead supporter for any SCJ teacher who wants to go vote in the Israeli elections but can’t afford the flights. Five of them are now set to go vote out the current government. And our own Maia Wechsler launched our fund-raising campaign for the extended Khitawi family in Gaza. Let’s do our part now, to honor Hersh’s legacy and the legacy of all of the Israeli and Palestinian peacemakers killed on October 7th and since. Let us make this day a beacon for reaching across the divide and helping our brothers and sisters who are still in dire need of food and clean water as a result of 10/7 and all that came after it. I hope you support this campaign.
Yesterday, Israelis for Peace put out a beautiful statement about the protest. In response, some who were protesting against us wrote apologies in the comments, completely disavowing that protest and hoping to work with IFP in the future. We can, and we will bring a better, more compassionate world.
Shabbat shalom,
Rabbi Misha