‘We failed you’: A Yom Kippur confession from Israel’s leaders
Yom Kippur is a profound moment of reflection and accountability—a sacred day dedicated to confronting our shortcomings, seeking forgiveness, and committing ourselves to growth and improvement. This year, coming days after the first anniversary of the October 7 attack, the burden of introspection weighs heavier than ever as every Jew grapples with the continuing harrowing aftermath of that terrible day, delving deep into their conscience to discern how they can contribute to a better future for our people.
As we each take stock of our actions, it is vital that this moment of reckoning extend beyond the individual. It is both incumbent and imperative for Israel’s government to engage in this crucial process of self-examination. Yet, we must face the uncomfortable truth that our current leadership will never undertake such an accounting.
That is why I write this vidui, this confession, for them: to hold them accountable for the failures that have left us exposed to Hamas’s horrific attack, for the trust they have irreparably shattered, and for the profound pain still resonating within our country. As we confess our personal transgressions, let us also compel our leaders to confront their own, acknowledging the weight of the responsibility they bear to the very people they have failed.
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Ashamnu. We have sinned by failing to protect our people. We were blind to the signs, ignoring the threats at our borders, dismissing the warnings, and allowing complacency to take root where vigilance should have stood firm. The trust you placed in us was shattered on October 7, and for that, we are deeply sorry.
Bagadnu. We have betrayed the covenant between government and citizen, a sacred bond of safety and security. Our systems faltered when you needed them most. We abandoned our duty to foresee the unimaginable, leaving our borders exposed and our people vulnerable to the horrors that followed. We did not act with the urgency you deserved, and in this betrayal, too many lives were lost, too many futures shattered.
Gazalnu. We have plundered the faith you placed in our leadership. In our failure to bring home the hostages, we have robbed families of their loved ones, leaving them trapped in an unbearable limbo. We failed to secure their return with the swiftness, force, and determination that you expected. Every moment they remain in captivity is a moment of deep failure.
Dibarnu dofi. We spoke with arrogance and self-assurance, making promises we could not keep, and projecting confidence while cracks were forming beneath the surface. Our words were hollow, and in the wake of the attack, our silence in the face of your pain was deafening. In all this, the only promise we have kept to you is that you will live by the sword.
He’evinu. We made grave errors in judgment. We underestimated the murderous enemy, allowing ourselves to be lulled into a false sense of security. We miscalculated the price of our inaction, and now, the cost has been paid in blood.
V’hirshanu. We have acted wickedly by allowing the divisions among us to weaken our collective strength. Instead of building unity and resilience, we allowed political infighting to undermine our national security. We failed to stand together as one, and in that weakness, our enemies found their opening.
Zadnu. We have willfully erred in thinking we had time, that the worst was behind us. We were slow to respond to the rising threats. Our delay in acting decisively in the aftermath left families waiting in agony, their loved ones still held in captivity, still waiting for rescue.
Chamasnu. We have allowed violence to seep into our discourse and society, and in doing so, we did not prepare ourselves for the violence that would come from beyond our borders. The hatred that festered within our enemies was not met with the strength it required, and our lack of preparation cost us dearly.
Tafalnu shaker. We built a shield of self-deception, convincing ourselves—and you—that our defenses were secure, that the danger was distant. In our false confidence, we failed to see the cracks forming, and by the time we realized the truth, the damage was done.
Yaatsnu ra. We have given poor counsel and made decisions that have endangered lives. In moments when you needed clarity and direction, we offered confusion and silence. Our inadequate strategies put lives at risk, and instead of keeping you informed, we left you in the dark, compounding fear and uncertainty.
Kizavnu. We lied to ourselves, believing that we had done enough, that we were ready for any scenario. We did not reckon with the reality, and in our self-deception, we left our people vulnerable.
Latznu. We mocked the warnings, dismissing the voices that cautioned us about the dangers on the horizon and ridiculing their concerns as alarmist and out of touch. Blinded by our own hubris, we failed to act when action was needed most.
Maradnu. We rebelled against our responsibility, prioritizing political agendas over national security. instead of owning our failures, we deflected blame, refusing to face the consequences of our inaction. In doing so, we failed not just in leadership, but in the very essence of what it means to serve.
Niatznu. We disrespected the families of the hostages by exploiting their pain for political gain. Instead of offering support and compassion, we used their suffering to advance our own agendas. We deepened their heartbreak and turned their tragedy into a spectacle.
Sararnu. We turned away from the most vulnerable among us, failing to attend the funerals of those killed, neglecting to honor their sacrifice and recognize the nation’s deep pain. In our absence, we distanced ourselves from the grief that has touched every corner of the country.
Avinu. We have been reckless, and in our recklessness, we failed to protect the sanctity of life, the essence of our nation’s survival. We let down the mothers, fathers, children, and soldiers who counted on us to shield them from harm.
Pashanu. We committed a grave moral failure by failing to do everything in our power to bring those taken from us back. Our hesitation, disorganization, and lack of unity have prolonged their suffering and betrayed the responsibility we owed them.
Tzararnu. We have deepened the anguish of the people of the south and north who were forced them to leave their homes without a clear path to return. In our failure to provide a secure plan for their future, we have left entire communities in limbo, stripped of the safety and stability they once knew.
Kishinu oref. We have been stubborn in resisting a full investigation into the events of October 7. Instead of embracing transparency, we have obstructed the search for truth and prioritized protecting our reputation over holding ourselves accountable to the people we are meant to serve. Our refusal to allow a thorough investigation has dishonored the lives lost and undermined the trust our citizens placed in us.
Rashanu. We acted in ways that were harmful and reckless, allowing division, pride, and blind optimism to cloud our judgment. In our indifference and failure to act, we not only neglected our duty but betrayed the trust of those who relied on us.
Shichatnu. We have corrupted the trust you placed in us, allowing our institutions to falter and our security to be breached. The structures we built to protect you crumbled under the weight of our inaction.
Tiavnu. We were misguided, chasing illusions of security without recognizing the storm that was brewing. We did not prepare for the reality, and in our naivety, we left our people exposed.
Tainu. We have gone astray, losing sight of our most fundamental responsibility: the safety and security of every citizen of this nation. We failed to protect you, and for that, we are deeply, painfully sorry.
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We come before you now in this hour of reckoning, acknowledging our sins and failures. We are committed to doing what is necessary to repair the damage, to bring back the hostages, and to ensure that such a tragedy never happens again. Grant us the strength and wisdom to rebuild our nation, to stand united, and to protect the sanctity of life for all. May our confession be the first step on this path toward healing, justice, and redemption.