Before October 7, it was easy for most Jews in the Diaspora to forget that they are Jewish. Sure, they will remember as Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur and Hanukkah approach, or when invited to the occasional Bar or Bat Mitzvah, but 2,000 years of connection, history and wisdom have by and large laid dormant for many Jews around the world. That is, until now.
That devastating day of October 7 was a watershed moment for Israelis and global Jewry. As we saw our brothers and sisters being slaughtered, as social media posts didn’t even give Israelis a chance to bury their loved ones before pundits began criticizing the country’s military response, as college students converged on campuses criticizing “Zionists” when many of them really meant “Jews” – our Judaism was dormant no more. Overnight, we went from thinking about our Judaism once or twice a year, to thinking about it every day and every night.
Antisemitism is the lead story around the world, and we know as Jews, it’s not good if the spotlight stays on us for too long. Instead of hiding and hoping it goes away, this time around not only are we fighting back, but unaffiliated Jews are waking up.
The October 7 attacks and everything that occurred subsequently awakened something within many of us. I’ve seen firsthand how the tens of thousands of global alumni of Momentum, the organization I cofounded 15 years ago, did not have to be told what to do. Due to their personal transformative experience in Israel, our alumni and their families immediately stood up for Israel, quickly mobilized, marched, lobbied, and raised funds. They chose to do what every Jewish person must do in times of distress: show up.
Since October 7, Momentum, which works closely with the Diaspora Affairs and Combating Antisemitism Ministry, has brought hundreds of Jewish mothers and fathers to Israel, including parents of lone soldiers. They came to bear witness and to collectively embody the concept of “hineni” (here I am). Coming to Israel in those early days of the war was not an easy choice, but their past Momentum experience taught them that the Jewish people are a family, and when your family is in trouble, you show up.
Together we are traveling across the South, volunteering to plant and harvest produce at farms and are hearing the countless stories of horror from hostage families and survivors of the Gaza Envelope kibbutzim. Bearing witness is a responsibility, and each person left with a thoughtful plan on what they can personally do to help. At home, they created PowerPoint presentations; spoke to their friends, families and communities to make them aware of the realities on the ground in Israel; and reached out to their elected representatives to implore them to help bring our hostages home.
ON OCTOBER 6, we were so divided, as even the most harmonious of families fight and have their internal issues. In Israel, societal division was off the charts. Unfortunately, it took an existential crisis to bring the Jewish family together. But it showed us that we are capable of putting aside even extreme differences for a greater cause.
How do we do all this? Resilience.
Resilience is baked into our DNA. It’s what gives us the strength to look our enemies in the eye and not cower. It’s what gives us the ability to bury our dead and then dance at the next wedding huppah. We sit shiva and mourn, and then we get up and go on with life.
This past month, we demonstrated to the latest Momentum delegation how to do just that. Some 200 women and men from the US, Canada, South Africa, and Panama were greeted by our Israeli participants as they landed in Israel on Remembrance Day. While here, they experienced a historical Day of Remembrance, joined the millions of Israelis who literally dropped whatever they were doing and stood in painful solidarity when the siren wailed.
From somber to celebration
But they subsequently experienced the immediate complex transition into the joys of Independence Day. Though this year’s celebration was more subdued than in years past, I can’t think of a better representation of the Israeli mentality in the face of tragedy – where sadness and joy are often melted into one and we learn to take the good with the bad; to hold the pain and yet still have hope and happiness.
Our participants celebrated with hundreds of evacuees from Kibbutz Alumim in their biggest gathering of the year; and they toured Israel’s South to bear witness to the tragic events of the October 7 massacre. They visited the Nova festival site, Kibbutz Reim, and heard testimonials from those who entered through the gates of hell and were strong enough to come back.
Our aspiration is that this delegation, now that they’re home, will have an even greater sense of shared responsibility. We will watch as they turn their experience into action in their home countries.
The delegations of both men and women are part of our effort to focus on storytelling, community engagement, and calls to action that resonate with the theme of resilience. Throughout May and June, each week is dedicated to a specific aspect of resiliency providing a series of short videos specifically geared for Holocaust Remembrance Day, Remembrance Day, and Independence Day. Those who can’t be with us in Israel in person and are looking for specific initiatives to join can refer to our Momentum Action Network, a consistently updated collection of initiatives for Israel successfully implemented since October 7.
THE DIASPORA Jews who joined me in Israel saw firsthand what our people have gone through and will be prepared to share it with the world. But most of all, they saw that the Israeli spirit is not broken; in many ways it is ignited more than ever before.
That’s why since October 7, we have seen soldiers get engaged and married on army bases, babies born with joy, and soldiers with amputated limbs learn to walk again. Am Yisrael Chai does not just mean we survived, it means we choose life, and we thrive.
In a staff meeting recently, we were reviewing old pictures and footage of Momentum delegations where many of us were singing and dancing without a care in the world.
“Look how happy we used to be,” I said. A member of the Israeli staff responded, “I don’t know if we will ever be happy again.”I spoke up and immediately shared something I recently had heard from a rabbi. Imagine we had a time machine, and we had a chance to travel back and speak to our great grandparents a hundred years ago and shared with them that our worst fears have come true – that the Jewish State of Israel was brutally attacked, and many allies have turned against us, America is debating how many billions they should send in aid and armaments. What if it is not enough?
What would our great-grandparents say? “There is a Jewish State of Israel!?! The United States of America sends billions of dollars in aid!?!” They would be blown away that a dream they never even imagined was possible had incredibly come true.
No matter what is happening today, do not forget that we, today, are living that dream.After pogroms and the Shoah, our great grandparents probably thought that Jews would never be happy again. And look what happened. We are their legacy.
Israeli resilience means to look at what we have, not what we don’t yet have. It’s looking at what we can do, not what we can’t. And it’s knowing that not only will we be happy again, but we will most certainly dance again with joy beyond our wildest dreams.
The writer is the founding director of Momentum.