05 Dec IT’S NOT A RIGHT, BUT A PRIVILEGE: THE MERIT OF DEFENDING THE JEWISH NATION
It is Chanukah, Baruch
Hashem, and the theme
of the holiday is
consistently referenced
in the blessings and
prayers. Let’s analyze
some of the themes highlighted during this
special holiday and endeavor to comprehend
their significance.
In the Chanukah candle-lighting prayer,
(particularly in the Ashkenazi tradition), we
express gratitude to Hashem for various
blessings, including the acknowledgment
and praise for the war fought against the
Greeks (המלחמות על(. This raises a notable
question: Why do we express thanks for the
war itself, rather than solely for the victory?
Shouldn’t our gratitude focus on the outcome
of triumph rather than the conflict?
There are several answers to this question.
For instance, the Ponovitcher Rav (הרב
Jewish that stressed) מפונוביץ‘ ח“ג עמוד עא
wars persist through generations, with the
unending threat of those who seek our
elimination. Therefore, our expressions of
gratitude extend beyond mere victory;
encompassing appreciation for surviving the
challenges and the continuous ability to
endure and engage in the ongoing struggle
against those who persistently oppose the
Jewish nation.
Perhaps we, too, may suggest an additional,
novel approach to this perplexing question.
The answer lies in the recognition that
thanking Hashem for the war, encompasses a
profound appreciation for the broader
narrative.
To grasp this concept accurately, let’s delve
into the story of Purim, which encapsulates a
unique phenomenon applicable to none but
the Jewish nation – the right to defend itself.
In the Purim narrative, following King
Achashverosh’s initial decree to exterminate
all Jews, there isn’t a direct indication that he
reverses his decision after Queen Esther’s
intervention. Instead, a pivotal change
occurs: whereas initially, the Jews were not
allowed to defend themselves, a shift takes
place. Faced with the ongoing threat of
ethnic cleansing, King Achashverosh now
permits the Jews to take up arms in self-
defense. This marks a distinctive turn of
events in the narrative. The pasuk (Esther
8:11) says: “the King had permitted the Jews
of every single city to organize
and defend themselves…”.
Another pasuk (Esther 9:15):
“the rest of the Jews
throughout the King’s
providences organized and
defended themselves, gaining
relief from their foes”.
Throughout our devastating
exile, marred by various
forms of persecution, Am
Yisrael has risen to confront
their oppressors on only a
handful of occasions. In many
instances, the ability to stand
up and fight would have been tantamount to
an act of suicide.
I always recall witnessing a chilling scene
depicting a Nazi demonstration, where a
Jewish person faced imminent danger with a
dog trained to attack. In a desperate attempt
to defend himself, the individual instinctively
raised his hands in defense. Tragically, he
was ruthlessly shot and killed for the
audacity of trying to shield himself from the
dog. The brutality of such moments serves as
a stark reminder of the generations-long
prohibition of the Jewish image being
portrayed as defenseless, to the extent that
even the individual himself was denied the
right to defend against imminent harm.
One such extraordinary occasion was
during Chanukah—when a few stood
against many, defying all odds—a miracle
in itself.
The saga of Chanukah began with the
Chashmoneans staunchly defending their
right to self-defense. According to the
Roman historian Flavius Josephus (The
Jewish War, Book 1.34–35), during this
period, Antiochus experienced the
unexpected conquest of Jerusalem, coupled
with looting and widespread slaughter,
which failed to satiate his desires. His
psychopathic tendencies were further
fueled by resentment over the siege’s costs.
In an attempt to defy the Jews’ traditional
practices, he ordered them to leave their
infant sons uncircumcised and to sacrifice
pigs on the altar. These commands were
universally ignored, prompting Antiochus
to ruthlessly execute the most prominent
dissenters.
A rural Jewish priest from Modein,
Matityahu of the Hasmonean family,
initiated the rebellion against the Seleucid
Empire when he adamantly refused to
worship the Greek gods at Modein’s newly
erected altar. Matityahu took decisive
action by slaying a fellow Jew who
volunteered to replace him in the idol
sacrifice, along with the Greek officer
dispatched to enforce the ritual. He
subsequently dismantled the altar as a
symbol of resistance.
This phenomenon has reverberated through
generations and continues to be relevant
today. The enduring question persists: are we
permitted to defend ourselves against
oppressors? Often, the need for permission is
sought from entities such as the United
Nations, the United States, Europe, and
others.
Another intriguing aspect is the name of the
Jewish army, the IDF which stands for the
Israel Defense Force. This is unique in the
global arena, as the sole nation to have an
army explicitly identified with defense. This
presents a sort of catch-22: is it an army
meant for offensive actions, or is it stationed
to wait and defend? Notably, the IDF has a
distinctive approach—never engaging in
operations unless provoked by an attack. The
sequence is clear: the Jewish people are first
attacked, and only then does the IDF respond
to protect and defend. Reason given, as
explained, the Jewish people must be
allowed the opportunity to overcome
adversity.
In contemporary times, especially after a
brutal massacre, the world once again aligns
on two sides: those who acknowledge our
right to defend ourselves and those who do
not. The essence of self-defense, in this
context, involves addressing and eliminating
threats that have emerged on our borders.
But even those who support the Jewish
people defending themselves is perplexing,
akin to portraying Israel as a little kid who,
having been bitten by a sibling, seeks
permission from their mother to retaliate
against the aggressive brother.
Now, we can comprehend the prayer recited
when lighting the candles: expressing
gratitude for the ability to engage in wars.
The capacity to wage war for the Jewish
nation appears to be not a right but as a
privilege.