Lighting the Way in a Polarized World
Ladies and gentlemen, excellencies,
In 1944, at Bergen-Belsen, Abel Herzberg and the later Chief Rabbi of Amsterdam, Aaron Schuster, stood near the barbed wire and watched as corpses were unloaded from trucks and piled up. Abel Herzberg turned to his friend and asked, “And you believe there is a G-d?” To which Aaron Schuster took his hand and replied, “Abel, what we are witnessing is not the work of G-d, but the work of man.”
Approximately 2,200 years ago, the Jewish people were oppressed. But unlike other times, the focus was not on material gain, conquering land, or dominating another people. This was primarily an attack on the ideas and spirit of Judaism. It marked the first time Jews were persecuted for their religion and identity—not for who they were. Observing the Sabbath, circumcision, or Torah study was prohibited and punishable by death. Women were raped, not out of lust but with the deliberate intent of disrupting family life.
And then, a small group of people rose up—the Maccabees. They were neither powerful nor equipped with advanced weaponry and were significantly outnumbered by their opponents. Yet, they triumphed. And here we stand, 2,000 years later, in the House of Representatives, the heart of our democracy, to celebrate Hanukkah.
But what exactly are we celebrating? What does Hanukkah mean to us in 2024?
The Torah states that it is forbidden to count people directly. How, then, was a census conducted in biblical times? Each individual would donate a half-shekel coin, and by counting the coins—each contributing the exact same amount—the number of people was determined. The meaning behind this is profound. If you want to count people, to give them recognition or status, you should not look at numbers or power but at what they contribute—their value to the broader community.
During Hanukkah we light candles. On the first day, one candle, and then we add one more each day. It doesn’t matter how many candles are added; the flame of the first candle remains just as bright and undiminished.
You have likely noticed that there is quite a bit happening in the world right now. In various parts of the globe, on our own continent, and even in our immediate surroundings, we are experiencing severe polarization. We can respond to this in two ways. We can apply the law of the jungle, trying to outshout one another, with the caveat that whoever yells the loudest today may lose their voice tomorrow. Or we can embrace the message of Hanukkah, of the menorah. We can focus on how we can contribute to an enlightened, reasonable environment. An environment where, while maintaining our own identity or beliefs, we make room for others and their perspectives. Just as the menorah’s original flame does not diminish when used to light additional candles, we do not lose anything when we contribute to society or help others.
It is with this mindset that I celebrate Hanukkah this year. Because just as the turmoil in the world around us is the work of us humans, it is also up to us—humankind—to work together to restore our society.
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This speech that was delivered in Dutch by Rabbi Yanki Jacobs at the Hanukkah celebration at the Netherlands Parliament—Tweede Kamer der Staten-Generaal—in The Hague. The event brought together representatives of Jewish communities, as well as politicians from both the First and Second Chambers of the Dutch House of Representatives, including members of the coalition and the opposition.
Other speakers included Chris Stoffer, leader of the SGP (Reformed Political Party) and host of the celebration; Dilan Yesilgöz, leader of the VVD (People’s Party for Freedom and Democracy); and Frans Timmermans, leader of the PvdA-GroenLinks (Labour-GreenLeft Alliance).
During the event, a menorah intended for the President of Parliament, Martin Bosma, was symbolically presented to representatives of all attending parties by Chanan Hertzberger, Chairman of the Central Jewish Organization, and Chief Rabbi Binyomin Jacobs.