Who Will Be Our Partisans?

When the Shit Really Hits the Fan, What Will You Do?

What gives me the most hope is being reminded of the countless, nameless, unsung heroes — the partisans who survived World War Two.

In light of the ongoing shitshow — the world’s obsession and perception of Jews — coupled with the endless number of threats we get on a daily basis, mostly from social media blatherers who are spewing nonsense from the echo chamber of ferocious noise.

Give me the “Give me liberty or give me death” Jews — the ones who refuse to hide, refuse to be intimidated, and refuse to surrender who they are — any day of the week. The ones who lived out in the woods, undermining Nazis, working tirelessly throughout the war. The underground movements saving lives, attacking the enemy, blowing up bridges — those are the people, those are the stories that give me the most hope for Jews today. To have the slightest chance of saving ourselves, from parts of our far-left selves and as well as our enemies — two fronts we better be prepared to fight.

How can we confront and defeat the propagandized left? The justified debacle being impacted by the Islamic radicals crawling into all their “safe spaces,” having infiltrated their minds like a virus, to reject the right for Israel to exist. The plague is real.

I’m part of many different WhatsApp groups where much of it is all talk with limited action. Yes, these people are well-meaning and hopeful, and it’s these folks who have me wondering if they’ll be the ones to get shuffled into the cattle cars.

The rare few will rise to the occasion and become partisans. Will we be joined by our partners in the Christian community, who are also in the crosshairs of the radicals? They’ve taken on the risk of calling themselves Christian Zionists as well.

Speaking of Zionists — a word that has been bastardized, cheapened, and turned into a curse, practically the N-word of political labels. Neither is good. Neither is true. There are people trying to take a word out of our mouths by putting different words into them. Antisemitism is anti-Zionism, and vice versa, versa vice. We are playing the lousiest game of semantics, and not one of us will be saved from a crazed attacker who has lost his mind with hate. You can’t talk your way out of a treacherous situation.

The fact remains: people will always hate the Jews. It will get worse before it gets better, and it will subside — because it will. It always does.

That’s the trajectory of our history. I just hope it isn’t at the expense of a massive loss of several million Jewish lives, or Christian ones. We’re seeing way too much of that in Nigeria and Sudan with no accountability. Let’s face it: the Islamic radicals do not want either Jews or Christians anywhere near the stench of their misogynistic, homophobic control.

If I’m honest about what I’ve lost, it’s not abstract. I’ve lost close friends over this — not to violence, but to positions I don’t have to accept and don’t, and that’s its own kind of grief, a quieter one that doesn’t get a vigil. I carry a low, constant heartbreak about it that I don’t think will ever fully heal. And I notice something in myself every time I see the ugliest rhetoric surface online or on the news: an old, reflexive thought that I never had grandparents, and a suspicion that the people saying these heinous things wouldn’t much mind if it became true of many of us…again.

Had I not been this age at this time, perhaps I could be more physically proactive, impacting solutions. As much as I try to write in a powerful voice, at the end of the day I’m just as guilty as everyone else brouhaha-ing behind my warrior keyboard. So, I’m guilty of being guilty of exactly what I accuse the people I’m disappointed in of being guilty of: believing that wanting change is enough, and results and changes will appear with the twitch of a nose.

There’s no beauty in hatred. There never was. It doesn’t deserve the dignity of being met with more of itself — it deserves to be outlived, outworked, and out-loved, stubbornly, by people who refuse to disappear quietly. We’re still here. I intend to keep it that way.

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