A Letter to Jews in the Year 2100

Dear Jews in the Year 2100 (5860 in the Jewish calendar),

Greetings from an American Jew in 2025. Presently, half of global Jewry lives in Israel and the other half in the diaspora (mostly in the United States). I cannot help but wonder how that number has changed in your present reality, 75 years after I penned this letter. 

Do most Jews in the world now live in Israel? Are the highways and light rail an even bigger mess than they are in my present, because of too many Jews living together in a small country? It must be one colorful, glorious mess, an even bigger reunion of cousins from the four corners of the earth than it is in 2025. 

For that matter, are millions of Jews still living in America? Are any Jews left in France, other European states, or Britain? In 2100, do more Jews live in Abu Dhabi than in Paris?

Surely, you were taught enough about the Oct. 7, 2023 massacre and its devastating aftermath to understand why I pose such questions. My generation and I lived through that dark day, which constituted the worst massacre of Jews since the Holocaust. 

It is painful for me to realize that as you read this letter, 161 years have passed since the Holocaust began in 1939. It is nearly as much time as has passed between my present calendar year and the American Civil War. How distant and abstract the Holocaust must seem to you now. 

I may still be alive by the time the last Holocaust survivor dies, but you may not yet have been born. Yes, my generation and I lived among those who survived the Holocaust, and we held these elders’ hands and heard their horrific stories. 

And yes, the Holocaust happened. Holocaust denial began in my generation. Has it been perfected and utterly normalized in your generation? Are there any original photos of Auschwitz-Birkenau that have remained untouched by artificial intelligence to resemble a pleasant German park?

Over a year and a half ago (in my time), Israel was close to achieving normalized relations with Saudi Arabia. But Hamas and other enemies derailed that dream so cruelly. However, by the time you read this, you will undoubtedly know the year in which this peace deal between Israel and Saudi Arabia was eventually secured. For us, it is still a dream. 

Presently, the Islamic Republic of Iran is the biggest state sponsor of terror in the world. This month marked 46 years of power for its merciless regime. Did the regime ever make it to 100 miserable years? Or, perhaps, are you reading my letter as a visiting Israeli tourist in a free and democratic Iran? I wonder what Iran did with all that enriched uranium. Is there currently a gaping hole in the northern half of the country?

Perhaps you want a glimpse into the current mental state of much of world Jewry. Allow me to offer that glimpse by describing the events of this week as a microcosm of what is currently occupying space in Jewish minds.

To put it crudely, dear reader, this week has been hell. For weeks, Hamas has been desecrating our Shabbat with macabre parades that mock our hostages. But nothing could have prepared us to finally learn the fate of Shira, Ariel, and baby Kfir Bibas. We are inconsolable.

Shira’s mother and father were murdered on Oct. 7. We now know that three generations of Jews perished in this family. 

And this week, antisemites attacked Jews in Borough Park, Brooklyn, one of the biggest Jewish neighborhoods in the country. I wonder if, by 2100, anyone will still believe that most anti-Zionists are not rabid antisemites. Currently, the world still painfully distinguishes between the two, and we have paid a terrible price for such selective ineptitude.  

We are broken-hearted, dear reader. And we are filled with rage. We want to tear our shirts and scream, “Leave us be! Leave us, to live on our tiny strip of land peacefully. Leave us … so we can continue to cure your diseases and prepare your taxes and write your life-changing books and films and musical scores.” Speaking of the former, did Jews finally cure cancer? Did Jews in Israel finally cure cancer? And morbid curiosity compels me to also ask whether there were any fools who boycotted cancer treatment because it was developed in Israel. Oh, the idiocy. 

We are currently swimming in a sea of fools. School districts invite pathetic antisemites to partner on programs devoted to fighting … antisemitism. LGBTQ activists attend pro-Hamas rallies from the luxury of their Western cities without acknowledging the fate that would await them in Gaza. 

Ah, Gaza. In 2100, which is more expensive, beachfront estates in Los Angeles or in Gaza?

As I said, I am awash in a sea — not in the Gulf Formally Known as the Gulf of Mexico, which now identifies as a Bay — of fools. In truth, I am awash in an ocean of fools. If your generation managed a complete return to black-and-white morality, without rationalizing the cruel deeds of evildoers, I commend you. By chance, does the name Luigi Mangione mean anything to you? If not, forget it. It was all a bad dream. 

I wonder how AI has shaped your reality, or lack thereof. Currently, my generation can mostly tell the difference between real images and real voices, and artificial ones. Mostly. Though we do have a few less gifted squirrels in our metaphoric tree, if you know what I mean. In their addictive need to believe anything, they wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between a two-eyed human and a four-eyed one in a doctored image of the White House being invaded by passive-aggressive extraterrestrials.

Today, most humans walk the earth with their necks bent downward as they scroll their smartphones. They cross intersections, drive 4,000-pound vehicles, take care of their children and, sometimes, hike steep cliffs, while staring down at their phones. In your day, do phones come in convenient suppositories that truly give new meaning to the term, “hands-free”? If so, I always knew my phone was full of crap. 

Currently, our “it” generation is known as Gen Z. By 2100, are you now enjoying the presence of Gen Eta, Theta, or Lambda? Add two more “lambdas” and you’ll have a hefty revenge of the nerds. 

Never mind. I’m sorry for the esoteric pop culture reference. Perhaps your magnanimous AI overlord can tell you the meaning of that one. 

That was uncalled for. I apologize for insulting you and any AI devices assigned to you for surveillance (blink twice or click on all images of a crosswalk if you need help). But you see, my generation currently fears the irreversibly destructive potential of AI. If you find that amusing or old-fashioned, I wonder whether any part of your body is currently bound by a fiber optic leash. 

I have all but reached my maximum word count. Yes, this column once appeared in an actual print paper! Paper was a substance, often thin, made from the cellulose fibers of plants. Pencils were thin instruments made of graphite, enclosed in an even thinner layer of wood. And cursive was an ancient script used by prophets and teachers to send secret messages regarding the high price of eggs.

I have all but reached my maximum word count. Yes, this column once appeared in an actual print paper! Paper was a substance, often thin, made from the cellulose fibers of plants.

Stay physically and mentally resilient, dear future Jewish reader. If we did it, so could you. Don’t abandon G-d. Never forget the pleas and pains of past Jews. And most of all, never forget the infinitely divine power of Jewish joy. Keep dancing, even if dancing is temporarily prohibited on the dusty soil of Mars. 

I leave you with three final questions: if, by the time you read this, Moshiach has already come, did he arrive somewhat uncomfortably via a Waymo? Was antisemitism ever eradicated in a way that ensured the kind of peace that Jews past have prayed for, begged for, and worked toward for 3,000 years?

And most importantly, was chocolate hummus ever discontinued?

Tabby Refael is an award-winning writer, speaker and weekly columnist for The Jewish Journal of Greater Los Angeles. Follow her on X and Instagram @TabbyRefael.