The Grotesque Closing Scene Before the Tide Turns
If the world were a theatre, I feel we have reached the scene in which all the villains assemble together on one stage, a moment where darkness appears overwhelming just before the tide begins to turn. After the grotesque libel in the New York Times accusing Israel of using dogs to rape Palestinians, a moral breaking point may have been reached. The accusation emerged in the very same week that testimonies and reports were published concerning the systematic, sadistic, and unspeakable sexual violence committed by Hamas against Israelis on October 7. The inversion is almost unbearable in its cruelty: the crimes inflicted upon Jews are projected back onto the Jewish state itself.
The ancient blood libels against the Jewish people have returned in new forms, growing more grotesque by the day. As throughout history, anti-Jewish accusations depend upon a profound inversion of truth and reality. So as the horrors of October 7 were themselves grotesque beyond words so too their inversion, reflecting the deeper pathology of movements consumed by obsessive hatred of Jews and Israel.
It feels as though every dark force that tormented the Jewish people throughout history has found renewed expression in contemporary antizionism and have fused into a single poisonous narrative. Ancient hatred has adapted itself to modern language, but its essence remains unchanged. Alongside these forces stands the familiar phenomenon of the “as a Jew”, Jews who lend legitimacy to campaigns directed against their own people. Nearly two thousand years ago, the Jewish sages already recognized the destructive power of slander from within, instituting the prayer of Velamalshinim as protection against Jews who sought to undermine and defame the Jewish community.
The ancient mystical work Sefer Yetzirah teaches that the world is created through story. Human beings live not only through events, but through the narratives that give those events meaning. Today we are living through a dark and turbulent chapter in that story. Yet every drama also contains the possibility of redemption and transformation. The gathering of all these hatreds together may itself be a sign that we are approaching the end of a chapter rather than its continuation.
Alongside the hatred, there has also been extraordinary goodness. Many Christians, Muslims, Sikhs, Hindus, and people of no religious faith have stood beside the Jewish people during these painful times. Their solidarity matters deeply. Part of the suffering of persecution is the feeling of abandonment; through these acts of friendship and courage, we are reminded that we are not alone.
Early in the war, a large delegation of Christian leaders came to Israel to express solidarity. One of them shared a profound insight. They asked how hatred of Jews could emerge simultaneously from so many opposing directions, from the far right and the far left, in the name of religion and in the name of secularism. Their conclusion was that, at its deepest level, this hostility reflects a rebellion against the God of the Bible. Because the Jewish people carry the covenant and memory of that biblical vision, they often bear the brunt of this hatred.
This is not a moment for silence. Silence in the face of evil allows evil to grow. History has shown repeatedly that silence kills. People of conscience, of every faith and of none must speak out, expose the lies, and confront the moral corruption of these libels. The normalization of hatred begins when decent people become afraid to name it.
Yet Jewish history is also the story of resilience beyond all expectation. Against overwhelming odds, the Jewish people returned to their homeland after centuries of exile and survived repeated attempts at annihilation. Through faith, perseverance, moral clarity, and the support of true friends, we will overcome this chapter as well. Perhaps these painful times are not the end of the story, but the difficult prelude to a more hopeful future, the dark closing scene before the light begins to enter again.
