The Blogs: The Jewish Power Blog: The Power of Leadership

These are trying times. The strident debate over the judicial reform, the lingering trauma of October 7, the ongoing suffering of both Palestinians and Israelis in the longest war, the pain of the hostages’ families; and then there’s the crime families wreaking havoc in the Arab towns, inflation, intensifying traffic congestion, even sharks at the beach. All of these together constitute a constant weight on the soul, which distorts every holiday, every simchah, every every-day conversation. One opens the morning headlines with dread. The response to “Hi, how are you?” is usually an awkward pause.

For me, however, the malaise I feel is not just the response to these objective factors. And I think I am not alone in my sensation of being adrift. No one seems willing or able to tell us where we are going. Our routine is actually pretty stable. Every day’s news menu contains, more or less:

A report by the army on the assassination of some Hamas officer.
A report by the Hamas health ministry on the number of children/patients/aid workers killed in the course of the above assassination.
An impassioned speech by the parent of a hostage, accusing the government of abandoning their child.
An account of who is flying where for the next attempt to negotiate a hostage release deal.
A statement or even a video clip by the Prime Minister assuring us that we are settling the score with Hamas.
An update about the ever-evolving web of scandals involving corruption, leaks, lies, betrayals, boycotts, incitement, etc. among officials of the government.
A report on a violent encounter in the West Bank.
A report on the assassination of a Hezbollah officer in Lebanon.
A report on the Knesset passing a law designed to weaken the judiciary and/or limit freedom of expression.
A report on a crime-family murder in an Arab village.
A report of Houthis attacking or being attacked.
A report on the death or severe wounding of an Israeli soldier.

You can print that out and stick it on your refrigerator door, and just read it through every morning, thus saving yourself the time and expense of subscribing to a newspaper.

Meanwhile, we wait in vain and in increasing despair for an inspiring or comforting speech, for an articulation of an endgame, for the outline of a vision for a better future, for a way out of the endless rotation of the above cycle. The Prime Minister, the President, the head of the opposition are silent. Occasional bombast, constant defensive accusations and expressions of victimhood, but not a word conveying leadership. Are there no speechwriters in Zion? Is there no charisma there? If people get the leaders they deserve, what did we do to deserve this? OK, I’m realistic; I’m not expecting Nelson Mandela. But is there no one who can unify us by speaking to all of us – not by reproving us for our disunity? No one who can draw a verbal picture of the future we want to live in, “utopian” as it might be for now? No one who will take responsibility for anything?

How about a fireside chat? a state of the union? Blood, sweat, and tears? The only thing we have to fear? Ask not what your country can do for you? The four tribes? I have a dream? All we ask is to be lifted up now and then – but all we ever get is to be put down. Settling scores. Paranoid videos about foreign influence and vicious tweets about respected world leaders.

That’s the root of the malaise – the loneliness. It’s not just the hostages who’ve been abandoned – it’s all of us.

Crises of leadership have been with us, of course, for a long time; ambivalence about what “leadership” even means already found clear expression in the Bible. Consider the Book of Judges, which covers an unsettled period in Israelite history, when different models of leadership were tested and debated. Gideon, for example, after leading successful military campaigns, is urged by the people to “rule over us – you, your son, and your grandson.” (Jud. 8:22) But he refuses: “The Lord alone shall rule over you.” Then his son Abimelech seizes power violently, only to be overthrown after three years. In this context Abimelech’s brother Jotham tells his famous parable of the trees, in which the olive, the fig, and the grape are in turn urged by the other trees to reign over them, but each refuses, arguing that the honor, sweetness, and joy that they provide (respectively) are too valuable to give up just “to go and wave above the trees.” (9:8-15)

But then, Judges ends (chapters 19-21) with “the concubine of Gibeah,” a horrific story of rape, murder, and intertribal warfare, concluding: “In those days there was no king in Israel; everyone did as he pleased.” And indeed, in the next book, 1 Samuel, the people demand a king, rejecting all of Samuel’s warnings about the potential economic, social, and political costs of a monarchy. (1 Sam. 8)

Ultimately, it seems, we know we need leaders, but often, unwisely, we choose leaders who are not wise.

Jeremiah, as usual, put it well (and went to prison for it):

An appalling, horrible thing

Has happened in the land:

The prophets prophecy falsely,

And the priests rule accordingly;

And My people like it so.

But what will you do at the end of it? (5:30-31)