From the Federation President

Like most of us, the aftermath of October 7th has left me struggling. Shock, anger, confusion, fear, anger morphing into outrage, disappointment, frustration. More fear – from external forces and those within. At this point, like many of you, I am raw, ragged, and very worried for our collective future. 

I find myself thinking frequently of my maternal grandfather. He taught me one of the most important lessons I’ve ever learned  — about the dangers of “othering.” He imparted this lesson to me through his experiences in WW II.   

My grandfather enlisted in the Army right after Pearl Harbor. He was 17, lying about his age because he was so determined to join the war effort (this was way before the days of computer databases where such things could be easily verified).  His training lasted six weeks.   

And then he woke up one morning on an island in the Pacific, with orders to attack. He told me he would never forget that first combat battle, the first time he came across an enemy soldier. Although the encounter likely only spanned a few seconds, it felt to him like time froze. He was expecting a monster  — that’s what his training had taught him. The drill sergeants emphasized over and over again that the Japanese weren’t even human. They were vermin, they were dogs, they were animals at best, sub-human for sure … monsters.  
 
So, my grandfather went to war halfway around the world, and landed on that island thinking he was there to rid the world of monsters. What he found instead was another boy. The boy didn’t look exactly like him, but as they faced off with their newly minted rifles aimed at each other, my grandfather recognized that that other boy was just as surprised, just as confused, just as scared as he was himself. And that boy had also landed on that island looking for a monster, since that’s what his trainers had drilled into him. 
 
I was reminded of this recently, while watching the raw footage from the October 7th attack. Like the attacks themselves, the footage was horrific. But the most disturbing part for me was the glee with which the terrorists were killing. They kept referring to the Israelis they were killing as dogs, saying they weren’t human and deserved what they were getting. They called their friends and family members, bragging about what they had done. 

We’ve seen Israeli Cabinet members and others in the Jewish community using that same type of language when talking about Palestinians. And in this country, we have elected officials  — including some of our own elected officials  — using that same language to describe their political enemies.   

 
That both sides of conflicts use the same dehumanizing language and tactics should give us all pause. The recent assassination attempt on Donald Trump shows us all too clearly where othering leads. Yet in the immediate aftermath of that attack, before anyone even knew what had actually happened, the finger-pointing and violent rhetoric began again.   

Two weekends in a row, Nashville has been subjected to demonstrations by far-right groups who hate us (along with everyone else they view as “other”) just because we are Jewish. Their language is appalling, their tactics of intimidation abhorrent. In multiple instances since October 7,th local children have been threatened at school, being told “Zionists don’t deserve to live.” And within our own local Jewish community, we have individuals using despicable language about other Jews, just because they think differently. We are under attack from all sides, including from within. 

Our tradition offers another path. The Torah tells us all humans are b’tzelem Elohim, made in the image of God, a divine spark within each of us. It is essential that we always remember that, but especially in our current polarized world. In a time when too many groups allow tribalism to triumph over morality and craven self-interest is prioritized over our sacred duty of tikkum olam, it is time for Jews to stand together and say enough. We must band together, take care of one another, and focus on the collective good, putting aside selfish personal agendas.   

We at Federation fight every day to give voice to those who can’t find their own, to shine a light on injustice and destroy it at its root, to protect the most vulnerable among us. We fight for others not because of who they are, but because of who we are. There is no other, there is only humanity, all of us together. Individuals can and should be held accountable for their own actions, but we should not blame those attitudes or actions on their membership in a particular group, and we especially must guard against thinking that groups are monoliths. Groups are made up of individuals, and each individual is part of many groups. It is at best not smart to make assumptions about people based solely on their membership in a particular group. At worst, it is downright dangerous.   

Jews know this all too well. Throughout our history, we have time and again been made other. The recent Nazi actions in Nashville are a painful reminder that we are now being made other again. It is gratifying to see so many in our community to stand with us to fight this hate. We will continue to remind the community that what starts with us doesn’t end there. We must fight this othering, whether it comes from outside our community or within it. We battle antisemitism through education, collaboration, and advocacy. We call on everyone in our community to assist in these efforts.   

 
And if you’re wondering what happened in that first WW II battle my grandfather was in? He shot the Japanese soldier  — that other boy. It was kill or be killed; they both knew that. He shot (and killed) that other boy, and then he sat down and cried. It was the first and last time he cried during the war — war is an unforgiving environment that doesn’t tolerate “weakness.” My grandfather ended the war with four Purple Hearts and a Silver Star. He spent the rest of his life being very hawkish on foreign policy. But he never once referred to enemies  — the ones he fought in WW II or any future enemies of the US  — as monsters. Nor did he ever express a desire to treat someone as “other” because they were different than him or thought differently than him. Language matters  — he learned that the hard way.   

Some lessons he couldn’t forget, and neither should we.