From Grasshoppers to Lions: Reclaiming Jewish Pride and Strength

This week, I am sharing two thoughts – the thoughts below were penned before Israel started Operating Rising Lion in Iran, which began last Friday morning.

These thoughts can be read on my Substack channel

https://soulofisrael.substack.com/p/from-the-spies-to-october-7th-and

In this, I concluded with these words:

This blog, written after the start of the War, reflects that we can choose our Legacy.

Parashat Shlach tells the tragic tale of a missed opportunity. Twelve leaders were sent to scout the Promised Land, but ten returned with a defeatist message.

“We were like grasshoppers in our eyes, and so we were in theirs,” they said (Numbers 13:33).

That single phrase became a metaphor for spiritual collapse—a national crisis of confidence that condemned an entire generation to wander the desert for 39 years.

A Historical Complex of Defeat

Since 1967, perhaps even earlier, the Jewish people have sometimes carried that same inferiority complex. Despite miraculous victories, we failed to reclaim the Temple Mount. Despite the clarity of our biblical and historical claim, we chose to give land away—Gaza, parts of Judea and Samaria—in the elusive hope of peace. From Oslo to Disengagement, we retreated, apologizing for our very presence in our ancestral homeland. All because we saw ourselves—again—as grasshoppers.

But the mistake runs deeper. In 1922, Transjordan was carved out of land that had been designated for the Jewish people under the League of Nations Mandate for Palestine. This was the original two-state solution. Yet today, we are told to slice off even more of our historic homeland—ignoring the fact that most Jordanians are of Palestinian descent. If there is to be a lasting resolution, perhaps the true Palestinian state already exists—across the Jordan River.

The Rise of the Lion: A New Mindset After October 7

But October 7, 2023, marked a turning point. The brutality of that day shook the Jewish soul. It reminded us that appeasement does not pacify hatred. That dehumanization still thrives—from Tehran to TikTok, from Gaza tunnels to Western university campuses. Once again, Jews are portrayed as insects, plagues, diseases. The same tropes once used by Nazi Germany now echo in modern antisemitism, disguised as anti-Zionism.

But we say: No more.

The spirit of Caleb, who stood alone like a lion and said, “We can surely go up and conquer the land,” is rising again. The tribe of Yehuda, associated with the lion, is reclaiming its roar. Jewish pride is no longer silent. Israel is no longer willing to be a punching bag for double standards and false moral equivalence.

And it’s no coincidence that in our current war with Iran—the head of the octopus of terror for the past 40 years—the symbolism of the lion has returned. Israel is rising like a lion, no longer hiding, no longer apologizing, and no longer constrained by the fear that paralyzed previous generations.

Moral Clarity in an Age of Hypocrisy

The world demands that Israel show restraint, even as missiles rain down on our civilians. But where is the condemnation of Iran—for directly targeting Israeli civilians with missiles, for sponsoring Hezbollah and Hamas, for financing a global campaign of terror?

Where is the outrage over the Houthis, launching rockets into Israeli cities?

Where is the demand to stop the flow of terror money—from Iran, from Qatar, and from Britain through its Muslim charity networks—which continue to fuel Hamas’ war machine?

There must be no more murky diplomacy, no more buying time for terrorists. It is time for moral clarity.
Let the G7, Qatar, and the UN issue a clear call this Shabbat: Hamas must surrender and release the hostages, without conditions.

Not with whispered deals. Not with vague humanitarian gestures. With truth.

Faith, Effort, and the Duty to Act

People often talk about faith as blind belief in miracles. But true Jewish faith is never passive. It is belief that inspires action. I’ve taught my children that faith means giving your shekel, digging your well, fighting your war—and then believing God will meet you there.

We have done the work, the daily, painful, courageous work.

Yes, we believe in miracles—but miracles often come through effort, courage, and sacrifice.

Footnote:  Does Trump want a piece of paper—or does he want real peace?

As I write this, Donald Trump has just returned from the G7, again playing with global symbolism. He talks about “America First,” but what does that mean when terror rages and hostages remain underground in Gaza? What does it mean if Iran’s war crimes are ignored? Threats to destroy Israel, nuclear capabilities, and missiles stay intact?

History will remember what leaders do when tested. The Allies didn’t bomb Auschwitz. They didn’t stop Hitler in time. The result: 6 million Jews murdered, a world war, and generations of trauma.

This is another such moment.

Now is the time to crush Iran’s nuclear capabilities, to disarm the terror sponsors, to bring down the regime that has destabilised the world for four decades. Israel has done the heavy lifting—now the West must act.

And if Trump truly wants the Nobel Peace Prize, here is his chance: Help dismantle Iran’s threat. Stand for real peace. And let the Abraham Accords become the Abrahamic Covenant of our age—bringing together the children of Abraham in faith, strength, and renewal.

A Final Word: It’s Time

• It is time to stop funding terror.
• It is time for truth and courage.
• It is time for hostages to be freed, not bartered.
• It is time to stand tall, not as grasshoppers, but as lions.
• It is time for moral clarity.
• It is time for the mishmash of cowardly diplomacy to end.
• It is time for a real path to world peace—built not on illusions, but on truth, strength, and dignity.

A final thought:  A City That Paid the Price, A People Who Still Rise

Earlier this week, my cousin, a  human rights advocate in Cape Town, sent me this message:

“Jeffrey. I am very worried about you and all my cousins and family in Israel. I don’t understand why Netanyahu sent missiles to Iran when they have the capacity to attack civilians in Israel- very frightening and I hope that it comes to a swift halt- there is already too much death in the region without an escalation.”

This question echoed in my conscience: Did we not know there would be war? A war in which Iran targets Israeli civilians?

Her words haunted me. Because in my earlier writing that day, I had already expressed in my blog that Israel had no choice.

I invite you to learn more:

https://blogs.timesofisrael.com/israels-moral-stand-against-terror-a-beacon-in-an-age-of-chaos/

And now I wonder: How is it that human rights marches are not filled with chants against Iran’s brutality—against its role in funding terror, launching missiles, and targeting  innocent civilians, Jewish and Arab alike.

My niece posted a video from Tel Aviv—a simple, raw glimpse into a city that absorbed the trauma of war. Streets cracked, businesses shattered, apartments no longer homes. But more than that, it showed people. People rising. Families hugging in bomb shelters. Strangers are helping clear rubble. Civilians who paid the price—and still, somehow, stand tall.

This war did not spare Tel Aviv. Like Sderot, which has endured many years of absorbing Hamas Rockets. Nor the peace-loving communities who lived along the Gaza border for decades, holding on to dreams of coexistence while facing a terror that burrowed beneath their homes, aimed missiles at their schools, and manipulated humanitarian aid into weapons of death. These people also paid the price on October 7^th.

But we have no choice. We will send our kids to school, plant gardens, and rebuild. Not because war is inevitable, but because we believe our children and grandchildren deserve a life of Peace.

So yes, we rise like the lion—not out of pride, but out of necessity. Out of memory. Out of the hope that if we endure, one day our grandchildren will say: They paid a price… so we wouldn’t have to.

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All images created by ChatGPT