Yom HaAtzmaut: Moderating Expectations and Restoring Our Story

BY RABBI MOSHE TARAGIN
We are in the middle of a war, and our nation is still suffering from the barbaric attack of October 7th. There are manifold layers of grief. 59 hostages are still held in Gaza by homicidal maniacs. Thousands of Israeli families are mourning heartbreaking losses. Thousands of our soldiers are recovering physically and healing emotionally from their war wounds. Tens of thousands of residents are still displaced from their homes, with no clear date for a return. We face military aggression, as well as a wave of rabid antisemitism.
Our future feels uncertain. Celebrating Israeli independence while ignoring or even momentarily setting aside our anguish is insensitive and callous. How can we approach Yom HaAtzmaut during a period of such mourning, hardship, and uncertainty? Perhaps this year, Yom HaAtzmaut should not only be a day of joyous celebration but also a time for historical reflection – pondering the meaning of Jewish sovereignty and how the war has reshaped our collective identity.
This Yom HaAtzmaut, we savor Jewish sovereignty more deeply than in the past, when we may have taken it for granted. October 7th demonstrated how vulnerable we continue to be, and how vital Israel is to our future security and survival. Jew-hatred isn’t going anywhere, and, in the long term, no Jew is safe without a Jewish state. If anything, October 7th infuses this year’s Yom HaAtzmaut with more profound meaning.
The first pogrom in history to be followed by a war
October 7th wasn’t the first pogrom in history. It was, however, the first pogrom in history to be followed by a war. In the hours after the initial attack, soldiers, police, security teams, and ordinary citizens rallied to defend our country, thereby preventing a potentially apocalyptic catastrophe. In the months since, we have courageously waged a just and moral war to dismantle the murder machinery of our enemies.
We have doggedly persisted, even though much of the world cannot see through the smoke screen of hatred and antisemitism. Despite the swirling uncertainty, we remain strong and resilient. We will defend our country. We will defeat terror and eliminate the subhuman murderers who burned, raped, and mutilated. We will build a brighter future.
On Yom HaAtzmaut, affirm Jewish sovereignty and affirm our future.
Where was G-d?
Religiously, we continue to struggle with many vexing questions. How did this happen? How could G-d allow a sadistic attack on our people in our homeland? Weren’t these grisly, horrific scenes relics of our tortured past in exile? How could our enemies weaponize the day of Shabbat and Simchat Torah against our people?
Intervals of confusion during which the hand of G-d isn’t evident are called periods of hester panim. In exile, we endured thousands of years of the obscuring of G-d. We have just lived through a year-and-a-half of this murky obscurity.
However, our current period of divine concealment is very different from the past. Despite the darkness, we have repeatedly seen G-d’s hand.
The tragedy of October 7th could have been much worse, had the genocidal plans of our enemies succeeded. Despite their attempts to ignite a regional war and ongoing tensions in the north, we did not become entangled in a more deadly and dangerous multi-front war. On the eve of October 7th, our society was badly fractured by a year of nasty and venomous social discord. Had this attack occurred a few months later, would we have been too badly splintered to mount a united defense?
Twice during the war, we faced a deadly barrage of Iranian ballistic missiles. After nights filled with fear and uncertainty, we awoke to quiet mornings, grateful for the technology that saved thousands of lives. Despite the hardships and losses of war, we struck a crushing blow against our enemies in the north.
Sometimes G-d’s presence is visible in the big picture. Sometimes, though, the larger calculus doesn’t make sense, but we can still discern His presence in the smaller details.
Moderating expectations
Yom HaAtzmaut should also be a time to step back and grasp the significance of our moment in Jewish history. Never before has an entire nation migrated from across the globe, returning to its ancient homeland. This extraordinary voyage is exactly what our enemies cannot comprehend. Their only reference point is the exploitative colonialism of the past. Our national pilgrimage back to Israel is a fulfillment of a divine promise delivered thousands of years ago. It is our historical destiny.
Viewing our return as a religious and historical destiny, though, can also trigger unrealistic and simplistic expectations. We haven’t been warmly embraced by our neighbors, and local populations aren’t just disappearing. Sadly, we still must convince much of our world of the need for a Jewish homeland.
This war has reminded us that our epic historical project may be slower and more complicated than we expected. Our historical undertaking will take much longer than anticipated and will not conform to our simplistic expectations.
Discovery
The war has revealed profound truths about our people – affirming our strengths and uncovering hidden depths. What we have learned should inspire hope for the future, offering clear answers to pressing questions about the resilience of this generation. How would a TikTok generation respond to adversity? How would a Start-Up Nation of prosperity react to hardship and sacrifice? Could our children match the courage and dedication of the pioneers?
The war has proven that love for our people and sacrifice for our land are woven into our national DNA regardless of ethnic, religious, or political divides. Our future is in good hands.
Restoration of our story
October 7th has also thrust unity upon us. Fighting for survival, we were forced to band together to stem the initial wave of violence and to launch our counterattack. We were drawn together by the urgency of the crisis, bound by shared grief and a collective determination to defend our people. Yet, as the immediate danger fades, so too can the bonds forged in its wake. Lasting unity cannot rest solely on fleeting moments of hardship; it must be anchored in a common story – one that transcends war and tragedy, weaving together our past, present, and future into a shared national destiny.
During the initial decades of our state, we shared a powerful, captivating, common story. Our nation was chosen to inspire humanity by living a moral and religious lifestyle. Our failures cast us into exile. After 2,000 years of roaming the wastelands of history, we suffered the worst crime ever perpetrated against humanity. In the wake of this national horror, we returned home, cobbled together a robust democracy, crafted a free-market economy, and absorbed Jews from across the planet, while facing unending violence.
As Israel became successful, our story began to fade. The memory of the Holocaust gradually dimmed, as did our story. This war has resurrected our common story. We may have forgotten our story, but our enemies certainly haven’t, and they never fail to remind us. This war has reopened the book of Jewish history. We are living through a crucial chapter in that book.
An international community
The war has also strengthened the bonds of our international family. Fanatical antisemitism has reminded Jews around the world just how critical Israel is to their survival. The Jewish international community provided our people with billions of shekels of aid, loving emotional support, and crucial political backing. More important than the financial aid and support that Jews across the world mobilized was the way October 7th stirred and fortified Jewish identity across the globe.
This year, Yom HaAtzmaut is more than a day of celebration. Amid the shadow of war, it must also be a day of gratitude for our resilience, introspection on our journey, and hope for the dawn that will follow these trials.
● Adapted from Dark Clouds Above, Faith Below vol. II
Rabbi Moshe Taragin is a rabbi at the hesder Yeshivat Har Etzion/Gush. He was ordained by YU and has an English literature MA from CUNY. He is a weekly columnist for the Jerusalem Post and for the OU’s Torah Tidbits. His most recent books include: “Reclaiming Redemption”: Deciphering the Maze of Jewish History (Mosaica Press), and “To be Holy, but Human”: Reflections Upon My Rebbe, HaRav Yehuda Amital are available in bookstores and at www.mtaraginbooks.com