In the Face of Fire, Israel Must Not Apologize for Living

In the Face of Fire, Israel Must Not Apologize for Living

By Rabbi Benjy Morgan

Right now, Israel is under attack.

More than 200 ballistic missiles and drones have been launched by Iran and its proxies toward Israeli cities. Tel Aviv, Haifa, Jerusalem — names that usually evoke innovation and resilience — are echoing with sirens. Families are rushing to shelters. Schools are shut. Streets are silent, except for the thud of interception.

In response, Israel has struck decisively and surgically inside Iran. Operation Rising Lion — a targeted campaign against nuclear infrastructure and missile capabilities — is not about conquest. It is about survival.

And yet, amid the fire and fear, what’s perhaps most disturbing is the deafening moral ambiguity in parts of the Western world — especially in Britain, where I live.

Labour figures like David Lammy and Keir Starmer have said — as they must — that Israel has a right to defend itself. But in the next breath, they call for “restraint on all sides,” urge “de-escalation by all parties,” and speak in language that implies mutual culpability.

This is not nuance. This is evasion.

Israel is not attacking Iran randomly. Iran has spent years funding, arming, and commanding a network of terrorist proxies throughout the region. It has crossed red lines on uranium enrichment and red lines on regional aggression. And now, it is launching direct attacks on civilian centers. There is no moral equivalence between a democracy defending its citizens and a regime that seeks another’s destruction.

This matters. Because when Western leaders hesitate to draw that line clearly, they don’t just fail diplomatically — they abandon their Jewish citizens morally. They send a message that even under fire, Israel’s right to exist must be questioned, qualified, or politically massaged.

In Bat Yam, a mother sings to her baby in a shelter, trying to muffle the sound of explosions. In Tel Aviv, a wedding is interrupted mid-ceremony as guests scramble for cover. In Haifa, families sleep on stairwell floors, not knowing what the morning will bring.

This is the reality of life in Israel today. Not as a one-off. Not as a crisis. As a lived experience — yet again.

And yet the nation is not broken. It is resilient, determined, and united in purpose: to protect life.

Some ask why now. Many in Israel ask: why not sooner?

Iran has shown time and again that it does not seek mere leverage. It seeks regional dominance and the destruction of Israel. Its nuclear program has pushed forward despite diplomatic efforts. Its proxies have amassed rocket stockpiles on Israel’s borders. And now, the regime itself has acted openly and directly.

Israel has acted not out of vengeance, but out of necessity. When no one else will act, it must. Because the first duty of any nation — especially a Jewish one — is to protect its people.

But alongside the military challenge lies a spiritual one. Can Israel remain just while being strong? Can it retain conscience while wielding power? Can it defend itself without hardening its heart?

That is the deeper test of this moment — and one Israel must continue to pass.

Victory is not enough. It must be matched with moral clarity.

This war will end. The silence after the sirens will return. But what Israel chooses then will matter even more.

This moment must not end with destruction alone — but with determination. To rebuild. To reassert not only security but purpose. To remember that Jewish strength has always been more than military: it has been moral.

At a time like this, Israel does not need lectures. It needs aid. It needs solidarity. It needs allies who understand that a democratic nation under direct attack from a genocidal regime should not be offered moral symmetry — it should be offered Iron Dome batteries, intelligence support, and political backing. If your instinct when Israel is hit with ballistic missiles is to issue a press release urging “both sides” to calm down, then you are not a peacemaker. You are an onlooker. And in moments of moral urgency, being a neutral onlooker is not virtue — it is failure.

Let others equivocate. Let others hedge. We will not.

This is not a time for moral symmetry. It is a time to say: Israel is right to defend itself. And it must never have to apologise for living.

When the dust settles, history will remember who stood firm — and who looked away.

The missiles are still falling — but a light is rising. Not from the sky, but from the spirit. Quiet, steady, unyielding. A light that says: we are still here. We still believe. And we will not be broken.