‘October 8’ and the corruption of righteousness
We went to see October 8th last night, a documentary that has now created waves across the USA with its accounts and footage of the explosion of hate and manipulated narratives following the events of October 7th. The documentary presents a harrowing comparison between images of the Holocaust and the remnants of kibbutzim and cars strewn across the highway during the morning of Simchat Torah in 2023. The eerie comparisons of charred homes, deserted communities, and pictures of grieving families that even in their stillness still evoke those piercing screams that one would expect from the depths of grief blur the timelines and make us forget where in history we stand.
The systematic elimination of Jews across Europe in the 1930s was not just a result of Nazi efforts but also a failure by those aware of the atrocities to speak up against them. It was those who held righteousness as a core value that have made access to history more accessible. The righteous among the nations were those that, in the face of fear of persecution, chose to risk their lives to hide Jews as antisemitism ravaged Europe. The Gies family, who were the ones to hide Anne Frank, her family, and the Pels family, were the example that children today learn about when we speak of righteousness.
What the documentary has done so painfully well is to frame the corruption of righteousness. Following years of advancement in fighting hate and promoting equal rights and justice for all as ways to prevent unjustified death and destruction, the Western world has fallen into a deep and concerning distortion of what righteousness now is.
Throughout history, younger generations have been known for their determination to use justice as a means to better the world for generations to come. In the 1960s, college campuses were epicenters for peace protests, calling for an end to a seemingly endless war and for life to be valued. During an era of bright color and powerful lyrics, the streets were filled with calls for peace.
However, what has become of the peace movement since October 8th appears antithetical to everything that we once stood for. What this documentary does so brilliantly is frame the corruption of righteousness — what was once considered the plight for fairness and justice is no longer concerned with either of those subjects but purely with a limited view of a perceived definition of oppression with a blatant disregard of the bigger picture.
Starting October 8th, we saw college students, faces covered, calling for resistance as justified and for the elimination of the Jewish state. These were the same college students who walked the streets in 2016 with pink hats protesting the dehumanization of women and carried the #MeToo movement to end sexual violence and the failure to believe victims. Forget the reports of the use of sexual violence as tools of war or the abduction of innocent civilians — some of them not old enough to even call for their mothers as they were ripped from their homes; none of these previously heinous acts were unacceptable; they are now considered justified resistance. The image of a broken Shani Louk in the back of a pickup truck was not enough to incite worldwide rage at the blatant violations of human rights that occurred that day, but it was enough to earn the photographer accolades for it.
The world’s utter failure to speak up about not just what happened on October 7th, but about the uncensored hate that has consumed the Western world in the days that followed, is what Eisenhower tried to avoid by inviting cameras to the concentration camps following the US’s victory in Germany: turning a blind eye to the reality that your worldview may be shattered does not erase the dark realities of what has transpired.
None of the college protests, calls from humanitarian organizations like the United Nations and Amnesty International, or the involvement of the IGRC in the most recent ceasefire transfers are true righteousness. What those efforts represent is the deep corruption of our understanding and definition of what righteousness is.
We are being called to choose a side of history. If you want to truly know whether you are willing to take on the responsibility of a righteous among the nations, one that fights for justice even at the expense of their safety, I encourage you to ask yourself two important questions: Are you willing to speak up, despite the potential backlash, but, most importantly: would you hide your Jewish friends if history repeated itself? Would you risk your safety for them?