Life in a Post-October 7 Universe

“After October 7.^”

How many sentences have we all started with those words? It’s still hard to explain to our non-Jewish friends how life-altering, bone-chilling and heart-shattering the events of that day, and all the days after, have been to Jews around the world.

As we exceed 500 days of post-traumatic anguish, wondering if we will ever get all the hostages back, I think most of us are utterly confounded by the immoral equivalency so many people continue to make between ethnic terrorism and a military response to an unsolicited, murderous attack.

#EndTheSIlence Campaign image courtesy of Hadassah.

But, unless you have experienced the generational trauma of genocide –and I mean real genocide, not the “faux genocide” that anti-Israeli propagandists are pushing, you can’t possibly relate to the imminent threat of mass annihilation.

Back in the 1970s and 1980s, the Holocaust was something American Jews spoke about in hushed tones and whispers. My parents never spoke of the atrocities of World War II. They didn’t want their children to worry about a horror that happened so long ago and so far away.

But invariably, I found out. I was nine years old, walking home from after-school soccer, when someone excitedly explained what these people called “The Nazis” did to Jews in Germany.

When I asked my mom about the horrifying tale I’d been told, her first response was, “Who told you this?” Meaning, “this” was information she had no intention of me having access to; it was with great reluctance that she confirmed the gruesome details.

From that moment forward, my entire consciousness shifted. Everywhere I went, I looked for potential places to hide in case the Nazis showed up here in the US. In my own home, there was a crawl space behind the furnace. In a friend’s house, I spotted the rafters above the garage where her dad kept plywood. Even at the park in my neighborhood, I imagined I could crawl beneath the merry-go-round so the Nazis wouldn’t see me as they marched down the street, looking for Jews to bake in their ovens.

Of course, these are the ruminations of a young child with a vivid imagination. But when you grow up with the understanding that there are people who will abduct you, hurt you and even kill you simply because of the religion you were born into, you are wound differently, whether you realize it or not.

After October 7, I lost Gentile friends who refused to make the distinction between terrorist ambushes and Israel’s right to self-defense. I lost faith in western journalists who perpetuated lies told by terrorist organizations, instead of presenting facts provided by a democratic US ally.

And we’ve all lost the security of knowing that “it could never happen here,” after seeing how easily anti-Jewish rhetoric and antisemitic acts have been accepted contextually on college campuses this past year.

After October 7, we waited for the global outcry. Hadassah, through its international #EndTheSilence campaign, stepped up into a leadership position among global women’s organizations. Hadassah stood up against Hamas’ weaponization of sexual violence and spoke explicitly, broadly and passionately on behalf of the mutilated, raped and tortured women of Israel.

I turned on Morning Joe after another sleepless night, to see Hadassah National President Carol Ann Schwartz unveiling the #EndTheSilence global campaign. My initial reaction was “Yes! The president of a women’s organization on national television, speaking out against sexual violence. This had to be the tipping point. All the congresswomen and celebrities and women’s rights activists who needed a movement to attach themselves to can help #EndTheSilence”! Unfortunately, except for Deborah Messing and precious few others, this was not the case.

After October 7, 500 plus days after, as the hostages are slowly and painfully released, the silence continues. Barely a mention of the hostages’ homecomings gets aired on local, much less national news networks in the US. And there is still a passive disregard for the women’s stories of abuse and mistreatment. Even the tragedy of the Bibas family hasn’t moved the needle enough. Is this just antisemitism, ignorance or both?

None of the answers are satisfying. It truly comes down to a question of what is morally right and what is objectively wrong. Yet it seems that too many people in the US and abroad can’t seem to distinguish between these two concepts.

After October 7, the Jewish consciousness has shifted. The world looks and feels different to those of us who believe in tikkun olam (repair of the world) and justice for all. The healing will happen, but the harm can’t be undone. Or soon, forgotten.

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Carolyn is a member of the Hadassah Writers’ Circle, a dynamic and diverse writing group for leaders and members to express their thoughts and feelings about all the things Hadassah does to make the world a better place. It’s where they celebrate their personal Hadassah journeys and share their Jewish values, family traditions and interpretations of Jewish texts. Since 2019, the Hadassah Writers’ Circle has published nearly 500 columns in the Times of Israel Blog and other Jewish media outlets. Interested? Please contact hwc@hadassah.org.