14 Jan INDESTRUCTIBLE

Mexico City 2025. The Museo de Cera,
the city’s wax museum. Like so many wax
museums, it houses life-like wax statues of
personalities from the sports, entertainment
and political arenas.
Standing in a room with other world leaders,
was a wax statue of Prime Minister Benjamin
Netanyahu, wearing a dark suit and a pristine
white shirt. But it didn’t stay that way.
A masked man enters the room, and places
a Palestinian flag at the foot of Netanyahu’s
figure. He proceeds to pour blood-red paint
on Netanyahu’s head and shirt. He then pulls
out a sledge hammer and with visible force
and raging anger, begins pounding, again and
again, on Netanyahu’s head and face.
Relentless, loud bangs. For his finale, he
topples the broken figure face down onto the
floor, and pours some more paint around it.
Posing for the camera, the unidentified
individual shouts out, “Viva Palestina… Viva
Sudan…. Viva Yemen… Viva Puerto Rico.”
The Israeli embassy in Mexico City, released
a statement, calling this repugnant destruction
“An odious act, which sends a dangerous
message of violence, intolerance and hate that

goes beyond legitimate criticism.”
To me, watching a clip of this vile act was
most chilling and frightening. The loud
hammering and pounding. The anger in the
perpetrator’s eyes. And no one did anything
to stop it.
No matter what one thinks of Netanyahu’s
politics, it was a despicable and deplorable

act. Yet another inexcusable incident of anti-
Semitism and hate. The sound of the hammer

on the wax figure was deafening, yet security
was nowhere to be found.
The figure fell in front of a statue of a serenely
sitting Queen Elizabeth, in a room full of
figures of world political leaders. Yes, they
were wax figures, but I couldn’t help but think
of the irony. Sadly, our living leaders have
become like the wax figures of the museum,
just standing idly by, doing nothing. Allowing
hateful people to run amuck, vandalizing and
destroying.
I am reminded of a lecture by my mother,
Rebbetzin Esther Jungreis a”h, to members
of the American military and their families.
She was invited to speak about the Holocaust.
As part of the lecture, she described the hatred
and brutality, the horrors and atrocities our
people endured during that terrible time.

As was her practice, my mother concluded
the lecture with a Q & A. A young girl in the
audience raised her hand with a seemingly
innocent question. “Rebbetzin, ma’am” she
said, “Why didn’t you call the police?”
As my mother pondered the young girl’s
question, she could only think, what an
American question that is. How does one
explain that the police were the culprits
themselves. They were in on it. They allowed
it all to happen.
What an upside down world we live in.
A world where a man who committed a
criminal act, vandalizing and defacing the
figure of a world leader in a wax museum, is
called an “activist” in several news reports.
This week we begin Sefer Shemos. The
second book of the Chumash. Shemos is
also known as Sefer HaGeulah, the Book of
Redemption. Shemos takes us on our nation’s
journey. We experience the highs and lows,
from the forced labor in the work fields of
Egypt, to their miraculous freedom. From
their trek through the desert, to the greatest
moment in time, receiving the Torah on Sinai.
“Zechor yemos olam, Remember the days
of old”, binu sh’nos dor vodor, understand
the years of generation after generation.
(Devarim 32:7) History repeats itself. From
Egypt to Europe, to Mexico City. It’s our task
to remember the past and learn its lessons.
“Vayokom melech chodosh, And a new king
arose in Egypt, “Asher lo yodah es Yosef,
who didn’t know Yosef.” (Shemos 1:8)
Didn’t know Yosef? Yosef was second to
the Pharaoh. How could the new king not
know of him?
Rashi explains “He made himself as if he
didn’t know”. He didn’t want to know. How
convenient it is to forget. To have selective
memory.
Somehow, the world has forgotten that
October 7 was a war started by Hamas
terrorists. They came by the thousands. They
were determined to kill, to torture, to brutalize
in unimaginable ways. It is over a year, and
as of this writing, we are still waiting for
hostages to be released.
We live in a world of revisionism. A world that
turns the tables and makes the victims into
the aggressors. That calls acts of destruction
“activism”. A world that wants to forget.
There are those amongst us who want to
forget – even deny – the Holocaust. Recently,
there was an attempt to obliterate the past.
The Brussels community has a custom of
laying Stolpersteine, brass cobblestones,
upon which are inscribed the names of Jewish
people from a particular area murdered by
the Nazis. The cobblestones are embedded
into the pavement as an everlasting memory
of the lives lost. The dedication ceremonies
are usually attended by local school children.
This year, the leaders of two schools refused
to allow their students to participate. They

also reject including Holocaust studies in their
curriculum. They don’t want to remember.
Can we understand this? They don’t want
their future generations to remember. A
recent news story reported that Rabbi
Menachem Margolin, of the European Jewish

Association, said, “At a time of record anti-
Semitism, it is precisely to the next generation

that we should be transmitting the warning
from history of the greatest crime committed
against humanity.” Margolin closed by
saying, “We cannot eradicate the truth to
please a minority who may think otherwise.”
While Shemos tells of the oppression in
Egypt, it also gives us hope. In this week’s
parsha, Moshe stands before the sneh, the
burning bush. A bush that was not consumed
by its fire. A message to Moshe. A message
to the generation in Egypt. A message for
all time. We have endured many pains and
difficulties. Many have tried to destroy us
– even by fire – but we are not consumed.
HaShem is with us.
We have all been shaken by the terrible fires
that have – and still are – destroying tens of
thousands of acres and thousands of homes
in Southern California. Our hearts go out to
all those affected. For the Kotler family of
Altadena, though they lost their entire home
and all their possessions, they experienced
a personal miracle. An heirloom menorah,
passed down from their Holocaust surviving
grandmother, was the lone item that withstood
the flames. Joshua Kotler remarked, “It was
insanely powerful”. His wife, Leah, added,
“This menorah story is bringing hope to me
that we are going to survive. We are going to
survive as a family. We’re going to survive as
a people. We’re going to move on, and we’re
going to rebuild, and we’re going to be okay.”
A powerful message. Our nation is indeed
indestructible.