Manchester, York, and the Song of Haazinu
Dedicated to the memory of those murdered in the Manchester terror attack, their loved ones, the injured seeking healing, and a community I hold dear.
On Yom Kippur, as an ex-pat Brit in Israel, I was using the Koren Rabbi Sacks Machzor during Kol Nidre and was surprised to read that the Selichot prayer Amnam Ken was authored by Rabbi Yom Tov of York, a French-born scholar who lived in York, England until the tragic massacre of 1190. To my knowledge, it is the only High Holiday prayer authored by an English rabbi. The prayer is beautiful, and tragic, when you learn what happened to its author. One of the verses that gave me pause was:
קולי שמע וראה דמעה עיני, ריב ריבי, שאה ניבי, והשיבני, סלחתי
“Hear my voice and see the tears in my eyes, defend my cause, regard my words [of prayer], and answer me, ‘I have pardoned.’”
Rabbi Yom Tov led his community through one of the darkest moments in Anglo-Jewish history. In March 1190, around 150 Jews took refuge in Clifford’s Tower in York Castle, fleeing a violent mob incited by debt-ridden nobles and Crusader fervor. With no hope of escape, Rabbi Yom Tov urged the community to choose death over forced conversion. Many followed his lead. The survivors who surrendered were massacred the next morning.
A century later, in 1290, England expelled its entire Jewish population. These events left a scar in our memory, but they must also serve as a warning.
Strangely, with hindsight, this Yom Kippur my daughter and I discussed Amnam Ken and York’s tragedy. During my university days in Leeds, I served as Yorkshire Region Head of the Union of Jewish Students and visited York, a city whose Jewish legacy is overshadowed by this trauma. We contrasted it with thriving UK cities with modern Jewish populations, including London, my hometown, and Manchester, my wife’s, and where my daughter’s grandparents live.
But as Yom Kippur ended and we checked our phones, we were shocked and devastated to learn of a terror attack in Manchester. The grief was immediate, and the connection also came. Two cities, centuries apart but only 75 miles away, now bound by tragedy.
Parshat Haazinu, Moses’ farewell song, offers a framework for dealing with this terrible pain. Unlike the Torah’s usual prose, Haazinu is a song, designed, as Rabbi Sacks zt”l wrote, to lodge itself in the heart, ensuring the covenant endures even in exile and suffering.
Two verses stand out to me:
The Torah uniquely uses the name HaTzur, “the Rock,” for G-d, a symbol of divine justice and moral clarity:
הַצּוּר תָּמִים פָּעֳלוֹ, כִּי כָל-דְּרָכָיו מִשְׁפָּט; אֵל אֱמוּנָה וְאֵין עָוֶל, צַדִּיק וְיָשָׁר הוּא
“The Rock! His deeds are perfect, all His ways are just; a faithful God, never false, true and upright indeed.”
Deuteronomy 32:4
And Moshe reminds the people of the need to remember the past:
זְכוֹר יְמוֹת עוֹלָם, בִּינוּ שְׁנוֹת דּוֹר וָדוֹר; שְׁאַל אָבִיךָ וְיַגֵּדְךָ, זְקֵנֶיךָ וְיֹאמְרוּ לָךְ
“Remember the days of old, consider the years of many generations; ask your father, and he will tell you, your elders, and they will inform you.”
Deuteronomy 32:7
Amnam Ken, written in the shadow of death, echoes Haazinu’s purpose: transforming pain into enduring memory and faith. Rabbi Yom Tov’s words ensure York’s martyrs are remembered, just as Haazinu preserves our covenant through exile. We pray that unlike Moses, Rabbi Yom Tov, and the victims of yesterday, we will see better times. Haazinu reminds us: memory and faith sustain us.
It is more than remembering, however. We need to be strong, like a Rock, and have faith in God and the society He set out, and on which, through its Judeo-Christian tradition, Britain was built. That means seeking justice for what happened yesterday, but more importantly, it means working with our friends and allies to ensure that countries like Britain do not continue down a dangerous path, not just for Jews, but for society as a whole. “The Rock” reminds us that justice is not passive. It must be pursued.
As Rabbi Sacks wrote:
“It is not too much to say that Jews kept hope alive, and hope kept the Jewish people alive.”
But hope is not the same as optimism. Hope is active. It demands effort, partnership, and responsibility. It means standing up, speaking out, and working together, so that what followed York is never repeated.
