I was looking forward to a brief summer getaway. Sitting in the pews in Long Island shul on a recent Shabbat morning, I was ready for a few hours away from the intense travails we’ve grappled with in Israel since October 7.
It was not to be. A guest from Israel rose to the bima to share his experience. In itself, this wasn’t too much of a surprise since shuls and Jewish community centers across America are increasingly hosting guests who speak about surviving the Nova party, defending a kibbutz, or fighting for eight months on reserves duty in Gaza. It’s a way for Jews in the Diaspora to connect with what’s going on in Israel – and, in some cases, of course, for various organizations to raise a few dollars to support their causes.
As is also common, I’ve done so often myself, the speaker contrasted the incredible sense of brotherhood and unity permeating Israel post-October 7 with the painful feelings of division and vitriol that pervaded before that day. Describing the atmosphere in Israel on October 6, he invoked the term “free hatred” as the translation of the Hebrew sinat hinam. He explained that it’s not just that we didn’t see eye to eye. We actually began to hate one another, “freely” with no compunction.
Later, as I enjoyed some herring at the kiddush, I overheard an overzealous shul-goer approach the Israeli and offer some unsolicited advice: “Next time, adjust your translation to ‘baseless hatred’ rather than free hatred. That’s how we say it.” He wasn’t wrong, of course, from a colloquial English perspective. But I had to wonder why we use the word hinam, meaning “free.”
I realized that it’s actually quite logical. In today’s day and age, there is no dollar or shekel cost for hating someone. Think about it. You see a post or WhatsApp group conversation you don’t like, and you trash the person online. Indeed, it’s free. You don’t pay a price for it and can do it as often as you like.
Let me share some good news about this analogy that we may call a form of behavioral economics: The mirror image of hate – love, or even just harmony – is also free. In theory, this positivity should also be spreading in parallel. The only fact stopping it is an irony: free behavior requires an investment. This is important, as well-known psychology studies confirm that we perceive higher value from something we pay for in some way.
There are plenty of ways to invest; lately, it’s not even necessarily about writing a check.
Let me be candid: Having been in the “business” of Jewish unity for the last decade, I can say that it has sometimes felt like a lonely, uphill battle. Everyone goes about their practical routines in their daily lives, assuming that “getting along” will happen by itself, over time.
Gesher is always busy running programs and seminars, so it’s our full-time passion. Yet we had rarely encountered those for whom these values were as important.
October 7 changed that.
After the Hamas attack
Suddenly, we have new advocates, both individuals and organizations, “fighting” alongside us. We have never seen more creative grassroots initiatives to create kinship on the home front – programs and plans to curb the hateful dialogue and negative discourse:
Hadibur is now tracking harmful speech.
Nifgashim creates meetings between people who have different opinions.
I just met with OurMishpacha, which wants to pair families outside of Israel with families of soldiers on reserve duty, for emotional support and brotherhood.
Stopilug has taken out billboards in major cities across the US to demand that we stop before we say something we might regret.
As for Gesher, we have launched “The 5 Rules for Constructive Dialogue,” which you can find on YouTube.
And the list goes on and on. People are stepping up, investing their time, attention, creativity, and yes, sometimes even their money, for the positive cause of ahavat hinam.
As we commemorate Tisha B’Av this year, we can stand up for unity and even select one of these initiatives to bring us all together. Or, we can continue as if we haven’t learned anything from the trauma that we hope will never again act as a teacher.
As history has taught us, if we don’t seize this current opportunity, we will pay a price for not doing so.
The writer serves as the international director of Gesher.