An Apology in Elul

We are in Elul, the month when Jewish tradition asks us to look honestly at ourselves before the High Holidays. A major part of that process is performing teshuvah, asking whom we have hurt, what we did wrong, and what we can do to repair damaged relationships.

The timing coincides with an interesting political moment in Michigan. Abdul El Sayed emerged from a hard fought Democratic primary and faces another contested election. Jewish Democratic support could matter.

In March, after a man attacked Temple Israel, El Sayed strongly condemned the attack. But he then provided reasons for why the attacker acted, noting that members of the attacker’s family had been killed in an Israeli airstrike, saying, “hurt people, hurt people.” While saying there was no justification for attacking innocent people, many Jews also heard something else: a connection between attacks on American Jews and actions in Israel.

Recently, El Sayed met with the Michigan Democratic Jewish Caucus. He said, “I made a mistake”, that after the attack he should have condemned it and stopped there, “full stop.” He acknowledged that trying to provide context then could trample on pain people were experiencing. He said that if he had the opportunity, he would his comments “all the way back”, saying that  “there is never a justification for a terrorist act, period.” He said he hoped to earn the trust of Jewish voters.

Those are important words. Teshuvah is a process, and when someone moves toward taking greater responsibility, Jewish tradition asks us to recognize that movement. But  El Sayed also added in his comments last week was that his comments “may have been misconstrued”.  He apologized “to anyone who feels like my comments might have been hurtful,” and emphasized that causing pain “was not my intention.”

Those words matter because they focus on how his comments were understood and what he intended, rather than acknowledging that making the connection itself was wrong.  So what exactly is the apology? Is he apologizing for the connections he made? Or primarily because people understood his words as justification for something he says he never intended to justify?

Teshuvah asks for something more direct: not simply regret that words caused hurt, but recognition of the specific action that caused it. Elul seems like a particularly good time to ask that question, and Jewish tradition gives us a framework for answering it.

Teshuvah means return. Maimonides teaches that teshuvah has three basic steps. First, listen to the person you have hurt and acknowledge specifically what you did wrong without defending yourself. Second, express genuine regret, apologize and try to repair the harm. Third, commit yourself to doing differently in the future.

Eighteen months ago, I had an opportunity to see this play out in Durham, North Carolina. A local business owner took an action that many in Durham perceived as hostile to the Jewish community, and some viewed as antisemitic. It caused considerable hurt and anger and quickly became a national story. I did not know him personally, but I reached out as a communal leader because I thought there might be another way forward besides anger, condemnation and people retreating into their own corners.

By coincidence, that Shabbat, our Rabbi discussed Maimonides and the elements of teshuvah. When the business owner and I talked, I shared what I had just learned. We talked about acknowledging specifically what he had done wrong, expressing genuine regret, trying to repair the harm and committing to doing differently.

What struck me was how willing he was to listen.

He did not argue with me or tell me why everyone else was wrong. Within 24 hours, he wrote a long personal apology on social media, taking ownership and offering no defense. He volunteered to hear from people who were hurt, and within two days, he met with dozens of leaders in our Jewish community. He listened, took responsibility and enacted concrete steps to repair the damage.

Not everyone believed him. Some thought there might be business reasons for the apology. I understood their skepticism. But I asked them to think about what Jewish values teach us about teshuvah. If someone acknowledges what they did wrong, sincerely apologizes, tries to make amends and commits to doing differently, what is our obligation?

Maimonides is clear that we should not be cruel and withhold forgiveness from someone who has sincerely repented and asked to be forgiven. Teshuvah places obligations on both sides.

Our community ultimately forgave him. Relationships were repaired, trust returned and the business is thriving.  Something that began with an action many experienced as hostile to Jews ended not simply with an apology, but with understanding, repair and friendship. To me, that is what teshuvah can make possible.

El Sayed faces a much larger challenge. His comments were public from the outset and widely disseminated. They came in response to a violent attack directed at Jews in a synagogue while children were attending preschool inside. They came at a time of dramatically escalating antisemitism, threats and violence against Jewish communities around the world.

As a prominent political figure, El Sayed has an audience far beyond Michigan. He cannot sit down with everyone who heard his words or was hurt by them. When the original words travel nationally and internationally, the teshuvah must travel just as far. The apology should be at least as public and as unambiguous as the original words.

I do not know his motivation. No one does. I did not know with certainty what motivated the person in Durham either. But timing is part of how people judge actions. An apology offered almost immediately after causing harm feels different from one offered months later, after defending the original statement, and at a time when reconciliation may carry political benefit.

El Sayed’s more recent statements matter. Saying he would “take it all the way back” and returning to speak with Jewish Democrats are meaningful steps. They should be acknowledged.  Teshuvah though should not become a game in which we move the goalposts every time someone gets closer to meeting them.

Something important though is still missing. The issue is not simply whether El Sayed intended to justify terrorism. I believe him when he says he did not. The issue is the connection he made in the first place.

Whatever someone believes about Israel, Gaza, Lebanon, Netanyahu or the Israeli government, Jews in Michigan are not responsible for the actions of the Israeli government. Following a violent attack on Jews inside a synagogue, “hurt people hurt people” justified explanations for violence against American Jews based on Israeli actions five thousand miles away.

That is the wrong he still needs to acknowledge directly. He is now much closer. What remains could be said simply:  “I was wrong to make that connection. Jews worshipping in a Michigan synagogue, and children attending preschool there, bear no responsibility for the actions of the Israeli government. My words suggested a connection that should never have been made. I apologize without qualification. I will not make that mistake again.”

Those words would not require El Sayed to change his views about Israel, Gaza, Lebanon, Palestinians, Netanyahu, American foreign policy or anything else. They would require only that he recognize a basic principle: American Jews are not responsible for the actions of the Israeli government.

And even those words would not by themselves complete teshuvah. Maimonides requires more than confession and regret. Teshuvah ultimately has to be demonstrated by what we do afterward.

For El Sayed, that means listening not only to Jews who agree with him politically, but also to those who do not. It means showing through his words and actions that he understands the distinction between legitimate criticism of Israel and holding Jews elsewhere responsible for Israel’s actions. And it means demonstrating over time that when antisemitism occurs, he will confront it clearly, without immediately placing it in a political context that can diminish or rationalize the harm.

That is one of the great lessons of Elul.

Soon we will say Al chet shechatanu lefanecha, for the sin we have committed before You. We do not say for the sin someone misconstrued or for something someone might have felt hurt by. We acknowledge what we did. We ask forgiveness.

And then we must do better.

Adam O. Goldstein, MD, MPH