Fear

Several years ago at a conference at Ratisbonne Institute in Jerusalem, Rabbi David Rosen was asked by a distressed young Catholic priest why Jews who dressed in religious garb, spat at him.

Rabbi Rosen answered with great insight.

“It is fear,” he explained. “The only things they know about Christianity are the Crusades, the Expulsion from Spain and the Shoah. Christians frighten them.”

Today, I find myself thinking a lot about fear. For probably the first time in my life, I am living with fear and it threatens to affect my judgement.

I am afraid that the world is on a downward spiral, with the erosion of all the values that we baby-boomers thought had been entrenched in the civilized world.

I am afraid that this government will allow the remaining hostages to die in Gaza. I am afraid that they consider continuing war an acceptable national program. I am afraid that people are turning a blind eye to the erosion of our democracy.

I am not alone in living with fear. Throughout all sectors of Israeli society, fear seems to be the driving force – and fear is a terrible driver. I am not talking about “yirah” – a religious concept of “fear” which is better translated as “awe.” This type of fear is related to a moral conscience. It is fear of doing the wrong thing, of violating one’s values and transgressing Torah. This is not “fear” as in being frightened. Quite the contrary: when one has “yirah”, the daily challenges should be less frightening.

There is a song popular in the religious community, “Mi shemaamin lo mefached,” in colloquial English, “True believers are not afraid.” Having weighed the morality and appropriateness of one’s actions and responses, fear of the outcome can be dispelled.

Yet fear prevails.

In the current situation, many Israelis of all backgrounds and beliefs and driven by their fear of Arabs or Muslims in general and of Hamas in particular. This fear is rational, considering not just the events of October 7th, 2023 but subsequent statements from clerics and political leaders around the world and the unprecedented support for Israel-haters and apparent determination to drive us into the sea. The fear is intensified as there is a gradual recognition that our use of power through military means exacerbates the hatred and cannot eliminate the haters. The problem is that there is no program to change the hatred – to turn enemies into friends, as the Torah recommends.

With no confidence in our ability to eliminate the hatred directed against us, the fear remains a constant. There are politicians who build their base on that fear. It is to their advantage to claim that only they can eliminate our enemies. In the absence of a program to build trust in our region, their claims are appealing. Fear, rather than rational thought is driving our political views.

In addition, there is the much less warranted fear that Israeli Arab citizens will turn against us. Of course, there are pockets of anti-Israel sentiment among that group comprising over 20% of citizens, but rational analysis makes it clear that the vast majority want nothing more than to live in security among us and benefit from all the advantages this state has to offer. And in this case, there is a solution to the dissident minority: Israel can make itself a good, safe, prosperous home for all its citizens and stop the discrimination against some of them in terms of spending on education and other infrastructure. There will always be some Arab citizens who would prefer to be living in Palestine than Israel, just as there will always be a small number of Jews who will sell state-secrets to Iran or commit crimes here and abroad if they feel it is profitable. Both groups are potentially very dangerous but only the first seems to inspire fear. Let’s be rational and let’s be ethical; instead of fearing our Arab minority, we can engage with them as friends and allies and help them in their battle for social justice.

I am afraid that these fears are going to be decisive factors in Israel’s immediate future, as politicians exploit them and the education system, dividing our children by their parents’ ideologies, does nothing to dispel them.

I fear those for whom fear is intrinsic to their ideology and vision.

There is a significant group in the national religious community who share a fear with the charedi community. They are fearful that Israel will become a normal state, respecting the borders with its neighbours and giving full civil rights to all its residents. This contradicts their vision of a so-called “Jewish” state, which has flexible borders to include all of what might be the Biblical Promised Land and in which religious law overrides secular law, privileging Jews in certain areas. The fear is that accepting the Zionist vision of a democratic nation-state will not have Divine approval and will set back the Messianic era.

I understand what this fear is; I just do not accept that version of the Torah message and the Prophetic vision. My “yirah” leads me in the opposite direction. I fear that their fear will derail us from the path of justice and peace. I fear that they will convince themselves and others that the way of the Torah is injustice and all its paths lead away from peace. And I am afraid that their actions and political power will indeed have dire consequences. Although I am convinced that the Jewish return to our homeland is the fulfilment of our destiny, I am increasingly concerned that what is happening here will not have Divine approval. And, ironically, I recognise that my fear is very close to theirs.

I cannot allow fear to control me. No-one should be controlled by fear. I am working hard to transform my fears into activism and advocacy for the type of society I believe is “Jewish.”

All parents live with fear about our children’s safety and future. It starts when they are babies and we fear that they will stop breathing. We are fearful when they start school, we are fearful about the choices they make and here, we are fearful when we send our children to the army. But, as parents, we do not allow fear to be the guiding force behind our decision-making. Part of our responsibility is to put aside our fears and to help our children be resilient and confident. We help them have dreams to fulfil and plans to either realise them or find alternative paths.

As citizens, we have the same sort of duty: to acknowledge our fears but to put them aside and make decisions based on a positive vision of the type of society we want to be. We won’t all agree on that vision but if we are not afraid, we can engage in conversation and compromise.