As Rosh Hashanah pulls up and parks in our driveways, before climbing into the vehicle of reflection and sweet hope, our people – and, indeed, the entire world – should pause, reflect, and consider those who cannot partake in the same joyful celebration.
The promise of a sweet New Year feels like a cruel joke. While we in Israel prepare to gather with our loved ones, how can we genuinely celebrate when 101 of our own remain captive, their fates uncertain in the hands of Hamas terrorists?
This year, as we mechanically dip our apples in honey a mere five days before the one-year anniversary of the massacre that tore our people apart, we must confront the acrid reality that no amount of symbolic sweetness can mask. Our brothers and sisters – from innocent infants to frail elders – languish in captivity, missing yet another milestone.
They’ve already endured birthdays and anniversaries in isolation. They have missed the births of their children and live in unspeakable – unimaginable – conditions. Now, they face Rosh Hashanah, torn from those who love them most. It’s an abomination that should sicken us all. And yet, it does not.
The world has been quick to forget the Israeli hostages taken on October 7. The war has developed, and the more Israel’s actions are questioned, the less justified our international allies see themselves in bringing the focus back to the hostages.
Our US partners have been steadfast, it is true. But even they will begin to stagger and falter the further Israel pushes.
It is not only they who have forgotten the hostages. Our very own government not only turns the other cheek to the families suffering in the exile of familial longing but actively disparages them.
Traditionally, the New Year calls for introspection and renewal. These are the people who should reconsider how they have spent the past year and consider how they would feel on the other side of the wall – not just the political wall, but the physical one as well, crouched alongside those hostages. How would your barefaced apathy be received if you were on the other side of it?
Personal growth
How can we focus on personal growth this Jewish New Year when our national wound festers unhealed? This year, we must demand that every Israeli, and indeed every person of conscience globally, face the harsh truth of these hostages’ plight. Our aspirations for the coming year must be secondary to our collective duty to bring our people home.
A TRADITION taken up quickly after October 7, 2023, was the addition of an empty seat to all significant events and major holidays, and this year is expected to be no different. This chair does not serve as a gentle reminder but as an accusation – a glaring void that should disrupt our festivities and spur us to action.
Let this empty space be a source of discomfort, a catalyst for heated discussion, and a call to arms for empathy and decisive action.
We cannot – we must not – allow the passage of time to dull our outrage. Each sunrise without progress is an indictment of our efforts, another day of torment for the hostages and their families.
As we halfheartedly recite prayers for a “good and sweet year,” we must also demand – not just pray for – our fellow Israelis’ immediate and safe return.
This is not a time for passive hope or diplomatic niceties at the holiday table. The argument for national unity is overdue, null, and void. It’s time for righteous anger and relentless pressure. We must keep the plight of the hostages burning in our national consciousness and searing the international agenda until every last one is home.
To our government, I say this: Empty words and unfulfilled promises are no longer acceptable. Make their return your sole priority, or step aside for those who will.
To the international community: Your moments of silence and expressions of concern ring hollow. We demand concrete action, not fleeting sympathy.
As 5785 begins, let us vow to make it the year our captive citizens come home. May the shofar’s blast serve not as a celebration but as a battle cry for their liberation.
This Rosh Hashanah, the empty chairs should haunt us as we sit with our families. Let them fuel our resolve to right this terrible wrong. Only when all our people are free can we even begin to contemplate the sweetness of a new year.
Shana Tova? No, not yet. Not until every hostage is home.
The writer is deputy editor-in-chief of The Jerusalem Post.