In the Jewish chain of generations, the holidays of the month of Tishrei are forever changed.
Since Yom Kippur 5734 (1973 on the Gregorian calendar), this most solemn day of the year will be forever bound to the war brought upon us by surprise.
Since Simchat Torah 5784—Oct. 7, 2023—a cloud of sorrow has cast a shadow over the dancing and hymns. For the Jewish people, who know well where they came from and to where they are going, that cloud, too, will forever remain.
The intelligence, military and historical explanations for the two staggering blows that struck Israel on the holidays are well-known. Yet to these, one can add another layer that emerges from the “Song of Ha’azinu,” a Torah portion also read during these very days at the start of the Hebrew year.
Before ascending “to this mountain beyond the Jordan,” where he would die, as described in the Torah, Moses tells the people he had led for 40 years what the future holds.
He calls upon heaven and earth to bear witness to the prophecy according to which, in the first stage, the Children of Israel will prosper in the land that has just fallen into their hands: “He made him suck honey out of the rock, and oil out of the flinty rock.” In other words, the abundance will be so great that even the rocks will, as it were, yield honey and oil.
But material wealth comes at a price, both spiritual and practical: “‘and Jeshurun grew fat and kicked; you grew fat, you grew thick, you became gorged ... and you forgot the God who gave you birth.”
For years now, the warnings Moses gave to his people—to remember who gives us the strength to succeed—have been forgotten all too often by those in charge.
Jeshurun (Yeshurun) is the name synonymous with Israel. Moses both foresees and warns that the thickness of the body, coupled with layers of fat, will lead to a darkening of the senses—to a sinking into materialism, a heaviness of movement, a forgetting of basic intelligence and a disconnection from God, who always reminds man of how insignificant he is in relation to creation.
The result of smugness and arrogance is described in words all too familiar to modern Israelis.
“I will provoke them to jealousy with those who are not a nation. ... I will spend My arrows upon them. They shall be wasted with hunger. ... Outside the sword shall bereave, and terror within; both young man and virgin, the nursing infant with the gray-haired man.”
Translation: God announces that He will send an enemy defined as “not a nation” to strike us.
This enemy, sent by the One who sits on high, will send arrows (rockets and missiles?), bring famine and use a sword that will bring bereavement and terror in the rooms of the house. No one will escape this enemy. Not the young men and the young women, nor the old men and the infants. Thus, say the verses.
It doesn’t take much effort to recognize the similarities between these harrowing descriptions and what took place three years ago right here in our own homes in the reborn Jewish state. And we all know very well which population group invents a national history for itself, even though it never had one.
Does our Father in Heaven punish us for our sins? Is that why we have suffered this evil? The answer is presumably yes, but we do not know the ways of Heaven. Every person must engage in personal self-examination, and those who are sincere in their hearts know where they have gone wrong. The national, collective reckoning is entrusted to Him, not to us.
But even without knowing what we endured or why, there is surely a lesson to be learned. It emerges from Moses’s words and may help prevent the next surprise.
Just before he steps down from the stage, Israel’s first leader asks us to maintain our spiritual vitality even when overwhelmed by material concerns. In other words, there is nothing wrong with the material success of the Hebrews in their land. On the contrary, as mentioned, it is guaranteed.
The problem lies solely in humanity’s forgetting its place within this abundance, in the excessive glorification of human power and wisdom, in overconfidence and in humanity’s reliance on itself, rather than remembering its human limitations and the Creator, who is the source of life and understanding.
In the physical reality, there is no way to guarantee that military surprises of the kind suffered in the Yom Kippur War and Simchat Torah massacre will not happen again. Such devastating blows have always been part of the history of warfare.
Nevertheless, on the eve of the Yom Kippur War, as well as before the massacre, a sense of arrogance prevailed among Israel’s political and military leadership.
Paradoxically, some of the decision-makers were unaware that this was the state of mind they were in. It is therefore difficult to hold it against them. But others—and there is no need to name names—were known for their arrogance. Some of them have not outgrown it to this day.
One thing is certain: For many years now, the warnings Moses gave to his people—to remember who gives us the strength to succeed—have been forgotten all too often by those in charge. And from them, this forgetfulness spreads to the rest of the public.
If there is one thing that connects Moses’s 3,000-year-old song, Yom Kippur 53 years ago and the 2023 massacre we can never forget, it is this message: Then, as now, material success has clouded our judgment and led us, with eyes wide open, into disaster.
It is permissible and necessary to prosper in the land. But one should never be deluded into the illusion that wealth and success are only the fruit of human efforts. Moses urges us to return to the principle, “And walk humbly with your God.” With it, there is a better chance of preventing the next surprise.
