The War that No One is Talking About
Following the news this week is a bizarre experience. All of humanity is in the middle of a story right now; a story that that we are writing and reading simultaneously. Analysts, pundits and talking heads, of course, are trying to make sense of it all, as if they’re looking from the outside in. Each one trying to predict the next moves by explaining some underlying motivations.
But with all the creative conjectures, there is little possibility of objective analysis. Each suggestion is based on personal perspectives, political agendas and partisan vantage points.
People are talking about proxy wars between the West and Russia. Trade wars between the US and China, control of shipping lanes and the cost of oil. Perhaps, some argue, it’s all ultimately about the future of the dollar as a the world's principal reserve currency.
I have no doubt that all of these arguments have merit. Maybe the war between Israel and Iran is indeed just a pawn on some massive international chess board.
Even in Chutz La’aretz, oceans away from our homeland, we feel the pain, stress and tension of our brothers and sisters. Our war, the one our nation is fighting right now, is far greater than any news outlet or podcast could imagine.
But it doesn’t feels that way to us. Since October 7th we have been oscillating between the worst horrors of antisemitic persecution, and the greatest hopes of national redemption.
The news stations cannot possible imagine the depths of these emotions; these fears and these dreams. If nothing else, the past ten months has confirmed that we are different.
Explaining and understanding that difference is not always easy but it all starts with children.
It’s no secret that “The West” is steadily shrinking. Women in affluent counties are having fewer and fewer children. In the United States, the total fertility rate was 1,616.5 births per 1,000 women in 2023. In fact, the only “western country” currently to have a fertility rate above replacement is Israel (OECD data).
There are many contributing factors to this sharp decline in family size. But as a society, the reason that people are not having children is simply because raising kids is hard. Couple this truth with the rampant cynicism about the planet and humanity as a whole, and one quickly arrives at the conclusion that there is little benefit to bringing more children into the world.
More than ever before, the choice to raise a family is the choice to believe that there is more to this world than the latest narcissistic hedonism trending on social media.
This is why Jews have children. It is not just the fulfillment of a religious obligation. We believe in the possibility and positivity of humanity. We believe that the best is yet to come. We believe that even if we don’t get to see it, perhaps our children will.
A secular life might be wonderful, enjoyable and personally meaningful to an individual. But it cannot, and does not inspire the desire to perpetuate and grow. Ultimately, the long term results of secularism is the end of secularist society.
But the Islamic world is also growing.
Islam is expanding because they too believe in a future for humanity. Their vision for the world, however, is radically different to ours.
And this is the war that no one is talking about.
At its core, Klal Yisrael is not simply fighting for the safety and security of the State of Israel. And we are not simply campaigning for the end of anti-semitism. The real war is for the future of the world and our place within it.
Truthfully, however, these are two distinct battle fields and two separate fights. But these are not new challenges; they are as ancient as Jewish history itself.
Our fight with the West is answering the question “Why should anyone care at all?” It was Esav who first coined this challenge: הִנֵּה אָנֹכִי הוֹלֵךְ לָמוּת וְלָמָּה־זֶּה לִי בְּכֹרָה – As he says to Yaakov, “I am going to die anyway, so of what use is my birthright to me?” Why should you care about anything more than the here and now?
To win this fight, our Avoda is to continue doing what Jews have done for generations; defiantly investing our future. We raise families, teach Torah, build communities, and we work to creative a better world for our children.
Our war with Islam however, requires a different and bolder approach.
Chazal (רש”י על בראשית כ״א:ט׳) tell us that Yishmael was banished from the house of Avraham because he lifted his bow and took aim at Yitzhak. Rather than share the future with his brother, Yishmael sought to take it all.
Yishmael’s argument with Yitzchak, then and now, is all about the future. Most importantly: Who will control it? It’s a fight about the legitimate heir to legacy of Avraham Avinu, and which nation will rule Eretz Yisrael. Ultimately, it’s a debate over who will unify the world in recognizing and serving One God.
This war is being fought with missiles, planes, tanks and soldiers. It’s fought with snipers, espionage and counter-intelligence.
But make no mistake, this war is not just about who has a better army. It’s about determining whether the future of humanity will operate with the value system of Yitzchak or the value system of Yishmael.
If you listen to the rhetoric of our enemies, it’s clear that they know what they are fighting for. Over three thousand years later, they echo the same sentiment; still seeking to murder us rather than share any piece of the land of Israel, or indeed the world.
To truly win this war, it is not enough for us to daven, fight, and provide support to our heroes in Tzahal. All of these things are important and essential. To win, however, we cannot hunker down and wait a generation or two for it to be over.
In these worrying and tense days, our Avoda is to rededicate ourselves to demonstrating the values that we wish for our children, the same values that define us as the true heirs of Avraham Avinu.
The task ahead is as simple as it is profound, as Hashem Himself explains: לְמַעַן אֲשֶׁר יְצַוֶּה אֶת־בָּנָיו וְאֶת־בֵּיתוֹ אַחֲרָיו וְשָׁמְרוּ דֶּרֶךְ ה’ לַעֲשׂוֹת צְדָקָה וּמִשְׁפָּט – Avraham is the one who will instruct his children and his home to keep the way of Hashem by doing what is just and right.
The Malbim (באור המילות על ישעיהו א׳:כ״ז) crystalizes this charge: Righteousness means our working on our relationship with Hashem; Justice means looking out for each other.
As people and as a nation, this is our greatest weapon: The confidence to know what we are fighting for and the commitment to build a world according to Ratzon Hashem. From there will come our safety, security, honor and prestige. But it starts with each of us and the work that we are willing to do.
As the Navi promises us this Shabbos: Tzion will be redeemed with justice, and those who return, with righteousness – צִיּוֹן בְּמִשְׁפָּט תִּפָּדֶה וְשָׁבֶיהָ בִּצְדָקָה.
There are two versions of our immediate future: One where this Tisha B’av marks another year of tears and morning. Or perhaps, we will finally merit the end of our pain, and the fulfillment of our national destiny.
That choice, however, will not made by politicians. It’s given over to me and to you. In a world of total uncertainty it is us who decide what the next few days will bring.
Hashem should give us all the courage to imagine the future He wants it to be; and the strength to spend our lives working to make it happen.