Tag Archives: war

Open Letter to My Students 88: The Go-To Thing-To-Do

“Culture eats strategy for breakfast”:[i] That’s a management truism, that drums home how hard it is to change organizational (and even family)  cultures. Yet the weight of inherited culture is frequently overlooked by analyses that posit, instead, a rational-choice theory of the world, as if people necessarily choose what is in their rational self-interest. They don’t. Especially in moments of stress or challenge, we tend to retreat into the way our various cultures (family? feligion? nation?) have conditioned us. Cultures have their go-to thing-to-do, their favored way of seeing the world and acting within it. When different cultures collide, self-interest may evaporate altogether. Culture can even eat self-interest for breakfast.

Not everyone who belongs to a culture is equally enmeshed in it. New generations regularly question their parents’ priorities, for example. Moreover, culture is the product of many forces: religion, ethnicity, gender, class, and so on. An 8th-generation Methodist postal-worker in Muncie Illinois and a Holocaust-rooted Hasidic Torah student in Monsey NY are both Americans, but not in the same way. A Sefardi who fled Syria in 1948 and an Ashkenazi who left Vienna just ten years earlier are both Jewish and Israeli, but differently.

Nonetheless, making allowance for differences in degree, it is useful to consider the “go-to” cultural proclivities of different populations.  

Farea al-Muslimi, a Yemen expert at the London-based research group Chatham House, for example, says: “The Houthis have one solution for every problem in the world, which is go to war. The Saudis solve every problem by trying to shower it with money, and the Houthis by shooting at it.”[ii] This is probably an off-the-cuff overgeneralization. But still, there is probably something to it. Cultures specialize in what they have plenty of: Saudis have money; Houthis have guns. And not just the Houthis. TV images abound of Hamas too, and even the PLO in Arafat’s day, where crowds of men attend demonstrations, rallies, and funerals, brandishing machine guns and shooting them in the air. 

It may seem irrational to plunge your population into war. But some cultures value war as the go-to thing to do: Medieval chivalry for instance. Forget the romance of shining knights saving fair damsels in distress; medieval knighthood was a code of violence: tournaments where champions killed one another; and war itself – an entire Hundred Years War (1337-1452), even.[iii] More recently, consider modern Germany: The Prussian glorification of war under Bismarck until 1890; then World War I; and even in defeat, huge sectors of the population could not wait to engage yet again in a world war under Hitler.[iv]

What, I wonder, is the Jewish go-to fallback? What, historically, and even now, do Jews throw at problems? Even though Jews are traditionally philanthropic, and despite some very wealthy Jews giving large contributions to everything from hospitals to political candidates – and contrary to antisemitic stereotypes — the answer is not money. For most of Jewish history, most Jews did not have money. It was certainly not guns either! The go-to response of Jewish culture was “learning.” Jews had books. Jews threw learning at everything.

Traditionally, that was rabbinic texts, the Talmudic and lessons from the weekly Torah portion. Synagogues had tables with Talmud folios spread open upon them, at the back of the sanctuary.  

Modern Jews who lacked traditional talmudic competence replaced it with secular learning. Still today, Jews go to university, and even graduate schools, in record numbers. Our faith in all sorts of things (prayer? God?) may be lacking but we have rock-solid faith in learning. Not for nothing, did the early pioneers in Israel create a Hebrew University already in 1925.

Sociologist Max Weber gave us the concept of “ideal type,” an idealized portrait of what people in different cultures strive to become. Jews strive to be scholars.

And not just ivory tower scholars, but scholars of matters that have practical consequences. Lo hamidrash ha’ikar ela hama’aseh, goes the Talmudic dictum. “Study is not the main thing; the actions that flows from it are.” No wonder Jews have done well in modern times. Science and modernity venerate learning and its application to human life.

I am no expert in other religions, but I sometimes suspect that the go-to solution of classical Christian culture has been prayer. Churches still assess their strength by counting attendees at worship. Jews don’t. Christian colleagues have frequently told me that they pray over life’s dilemmas – a strategy that would never occur to a Jew. For centuries, the Christian ideal type was a monk, who divided the day into eight prayer times. Jews, traditionally, have three, but two of them (afternoon and evening) are combined for convenience; and it is not unusual for traditional Jews to hurry through the Shabbat morning service at breakneck speed but spend an hour discussing the Torah portion within it. 

It is not that Jews don’t pray; we do. Brilliantly composed poetry enriches the basic core of Jewish prayer books; And Ashkenazi worship, especially, produced a magnificent cantorial tradition. But Jews specialize in Torah study.

One of the benefits of multicultural democracies is the opportunity is cross-cultural fertilization. I am a Jew, for whom learning is central. But from my Christian friends, I have come to see the benefit of prayer. I have also learned to pay more attention to theology; spirituality; and what goes into aesthetically pleasing, and spiritually moving, worship. But I have also taught Talmud to those friends, and sometimes surprised them in ordinary conversations by the way I question everything. I know too that even Jews must sometimes go to war. 

I eventually became a liturgist, an expert at prayer; but as much as I “do” it (and I do), I mostly “study” it, so as to make the practice of it (worship) more meaningful. Like my ancestors through the centuries, I am mostly a “learner.” Color me Jewish.


[i] Attributed frequently, but mistakenly, to Peter Drucker. Its actual source is debated.

[ii] Vivian Nereim and Shuaib Almosawa, “How the Houthis Cornered Saudi Arabia Into a New Conflict,” NY Times, July 28, 2026.

[iii] Cf. Richard W. Kaeuper, Medieval Chivalry (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2016); idem, Holy Warriors: The Religious Ideology of Chivalry (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2009); David Green, The Hundred Years War: A People’s History (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2014).

[iv] See Richard J. Evans, The Coming of the Third Reich (New York: Penguin Books, 2005)

Open Letter to My Students 72: War and the Murky Middle

“No one likes middles: reaching middle age, for example, or watching our own body middle expand.” So said the late (and great) Rabbi Dr. Michael Signer, bemoaning the unpopularity of his own area of expertise: the Middle Ages. 

In ethical quandaries too, rather than occupy the uncomfortable middle, we prefer doubling down at one extreme, and then demonizing the opposition, which is doing its own double-down on the other. But by definition,  a quandary contains some truth on both sides. It helps, sometimes, to temper our certainty (on either side) with a viewpoint from the murky middle. 

The war in Gaza is such a quandary. I am a rabbi for whom Jewish Peoplehood is a theological, moral, and spiritual reality; I feel called upon to sustain Jewish peoplehood for the benefit of the world — to be (in biblical terms) a blessing to humanity. In addition, I have lived through enough history to know the necessity of a Jewish State. 

But equally, I know the excesses that ethnic states are capable of; and I am an Enlightenment universalist who seeks that elusive (and probably illusive) quality we call world peace. 

As to the war, the precipitating factor, the October 7 Hamas butchery, has indelibly seared my soul. I know too that if they could, Hamas, Hezbollah and a host of fellow travelers would slaughter every Jew in sight. How, then, can I not support military attempts to eradicate this ongoing threat to the Jewish People? But equally, I cringe at the killing of innocent civilians, so how can I not support moderating the military on humanitarian grounds? 

That is the Jewish quandary of our time. Desperate to avoid the troubling middle, people plunk for one side or the other with every ounce of moral certitude they can muster. And Jews, as they say, are news; so unlike ongoing wars elsewhere, “Israel at war” generates daily headlines that both sides read to confirm or deny their respective position.

Take, for example, the New York Times analysis of December 26, 2024.  

Whether true or false, the Times has often been perceived as biased against Israel. But whatever its editorial policy, Times reporters are exceptional journalists who cannot easily be discounted. What, then do we make of this extensive background piece with the headline, “Israel Loosened its Rules to Bomb Hamas Fighters, Killing Many More Civilians in Israel’s Bombing Strategy”?

To be sure, the report suffers from limitations imposed by the question it seeks to answer: whether Israel has been bombing civilians excessively. It doesn’t inquire about the war generally: the hostages, for example.  

But even so, its findings are troubling in the extreme. The Times reports a “severe” weakening of Israel’s “system of safeguards” meant to protect civilians, by expanding “the circle of accepted casualties.” In addition, instead of limiting attacks to those plotted by Israel’s central command, Israel, this time round, empowered field officers to determine bombing targets; and not all such officers operated with the same moral scruples as their superiors. At times too, Israel used heavy tonnage bombs that guaranteed the destruction of entire apartment blocks. In the past, Israel had warned apartment dwellers by “roof knocks,” exploding small charges on the roof before leveling the building, and in this war, such warnings were not always given. So yes, the bombing in this war has been particularly devastating.

But there is another side to things. The report substantiates the carnage of the October 7 attack that Israel understandably saw as “unprecedented,” in scale. It confirms also the fact that Hamas “militants hide among civilians in Gaza” with an “extensive tunnel network” underneath heavily populated areas.

Traumatized by what Hamas had done and promised to do again, Israel felt obliged to uproot Hamas entirely. It therefore widened its military targets to include not just the  Hamas chief planners, but ordinary Hamas fighters and even financial operators who move money back and forth to obtain war materiel. But that required overcoming the Hamas use of human shields. As the report puts it, “The group embeds itself in the civilian population, firing rockets from residential areas, hiding fighters and weapons inside homes and medical facilities, and operating from underground military installations and tunnels.” Israel bombed particularly heavily at the beginning, because it wanted to neutralize Hamas before Hezbollah opened up a second front from the north. 

As to roof knocks, consider Shaldan al-Najjar, an Islamic Jihad commander who had orchestrated many attacks on Israel. Israel had tried to kill him in 2014, but failed, because when it warned innocent neighbors to leave beforehand, al-Najjar escaped as well. This time, they issued no warning and succeeded – but with collateral damage.

In sum, the bombing, though not indiscriminate, was horrific. It did not target civilians deliberately, but enormous civilian casualties resulted. It expanded the circle of acceptable collateral damage but there was at least an ongoing existence of such a circle. Israel’s war was understandably severe but the severity took its toll. 

So back to the murky middle. Those like myself, who accept the attempt to dismantle Hamas must also reckon with Israel’s policies that increased civilian casualties.  

Those who champion the Palestinians should meet me in the middle, by at least acknowledging that if Israel has killed citizens who happened to be in harm’s way, it is the Hamas policy of using human shields that put them there in the first place. Hamas bears the blame for beginning the war in a particularly heinous manner, and then waging it in such a way that Israel would have to kill civilians in order to defend itself.

If the reporting is honest, however, the accompanying headline is not. Instead of “Israel Loosened its Rules to Bomb Hamas Fighters, Killing Many More Civilians in Israel’s Bombing Strategy,” it might equally have been, “Hamas Fighters Embed War Machine among Civilians, Causing Israel to Expand Casualties.” 

But perhaps that is misleading on the other side. Newspapers of the Times’s stature should avoid headlines that lure either side away from the middle. Imagine the same story introduced by the heading, “Complexity of War Revealed: Civilians Suffer From Hamas Human Shield Strategy and from Israeli Expansion of Bombing Regulations.” 

I have other misgivings as well. If Hamas has been virtually destroyed by now, why is Israel still bombing in the Gazan north? And even if the Gaza strategy is not a case of ethnic cleansing, the West Bank settler movement is; if the settlers have their way, they will transport their ideology to Gaza as well. 

But equally, how is it that Hamas still retains Jewish hostages (truly civilian innocents)? And as to the Times, I would love to see other background pieces of the quality of this one: not just the Israeli failures but the cruelty and genocidal rationale of Hamas as well. 

Meanwhile, I am left with occupying the murky middle. Taking sides with certainty might feel good, but it does not do moral justice to reality. 

Chanukah, Thanksgiving, and War

As I sat down to write this, it was Thanksgiving in America, and Chanukah was on its way; but the big news was the uneasy truce just announced in Israel. While the rest of New York watched the Thanksgiving Day Parade, therefore, my thoughts turned to this latest round of war and to Chanukah, which commemorates yet another failed attempt to destroy us.

The war that gave us Chanukah was described in I and II Maccabees, whence we get the heroic tales of Judah and his brothers, a priestly family called Hasmoneans. Like all wars, that one too claimed innocent victims in abundance, but eventually, the Hasmonean army prevailed and went on to establish only the second Jewish commonwealth in a thousand years (the first had been the kingdom of David and his descendants).

Not all wars end that well, however, so even though I am not one to overstate the victimhood of Jews – the lachrymose theory of Jewish history, as historian Salo Baron named it — something moved me, as I left for the airport, to take along Yeven M’tsulah, Nathan of Hannover’s chronicle of the 1648 slaughter of Ukrainian Jews by Cossack leader Bogdan Chmielnicki. This was no “Happy Chanukah” tale in the end! We had no Jewish army at all; the Chmielnicki massacres left their mark for centuries as the Shoah of their time.

“I’ve recorded it,” Nathan explains, “so that people can compute the day of their parents’ death and be able to mourn them appropriately.” That’s the best he can offer: proper mourning.

Today’s war in Gaza should be viewed against the backdrop of these two existential bookends: Chmielnicki on one hand and Chanukah on the other. With Chmielnicki, we were helpless; with Chanukah, we were not. Herzl founded Zionism so that we might put Chmielnicki behind us. He even envisioned the Jews of his Jewish State becoming “a new breed of Maccabee.” They would direct just the third Jewish commonwealth of all time.

War is war. All wars randomly maim and erase lives; and all wars are political; there is nothing pure about them. The Hasmoneans were embroiled in internecine civil war as well, one priestly family against another. The Hasmonean chroniclers paint the anti-war party as selfish collaborators and assimilationist idolaters, but they were really just good men and women who saw things differently. The problem is, you never know until after wars are over how they will turn out, so good people are properly divided on whether a war should happen; and if so, with what force, for what duration, and to what end.

This time, in Gaza, war was necessary, it seems, given Hamas intransigence against a Jewish state and the stockpile of fire power raining down on Jewish settlements. Thank God this looks more like Chanukah than Chmielnicki. Most Americans did not give thanks on this Thanksgiving Day for being spared a holocaust. Perhaps at least some Jews did. We have, I hope, put well behind us the day when enemies could slaughter us at will.

I now read Yeven M’tsulah as a historical memory of the way things used to be. I read I and II Maccabees as the way they are again: Jewish power to prevail against forces larger than our own; but also the terrible fact that we are still threatened by those forces, and the stunning reality of what war does in crippling, maiming, burning, and slaughtering, all around.

There is yet another way that we have left the world of Nathan of Hannover behind us. Nathan comforted Chmielnicki’s Jewish victims by assuring them that God somehow desired their martyrdom al kiddush hashem, “for the sanctification of God’s name” — an idea that goes back to the Maccabean era, took root after the wars against Rome, and flourished especially in the Middle Ages when Jews were powerless to protect themselves. With Chanukah too, we chose officially to recall God’s role: the miracle of oil when the war was over, and the conviction that God fought on our side, giving us victory over a power much greater than ourselves. Long before Adam Smith usurped the term to explain the economy, the invisible hand of history was held to be God.

Nowadays, we quite properly believe that God has no hand at all in the wars we fight. We are on our own, having to rally political support, explain our position to the world, build Israel’s military capacity, and then agonize over when and how to use it. Small comfort, that. But it’s better than writing another Yeven M’tsulah with nothing to offer beyond the proper dates for remembering our dead.