Oct. 7, 2023 Was a Time Machine

Oct. 7, 2023 was a Time Machine. 

It transported the Jewish community back to the darkest places of our past: from pogrom to blood libel to Holocaust. Our worst fears – embedded deeply in our DNA from generations of trauma – came rushing to the surface, where they have lingered for the past year.

That has certainly been the case for me, as a Jew born in America who made aliyah and then returned to the U.S.

A time machine to the 1880s: Oct. 7 took us back more than 100 years, to the pogroms of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. It was a double trauma: temporal and spatial. We thought that such things wouldn’t or maybe even couldn’t happen ever again. Yes, isolated attacks on individual Jews or Jewish institutions were, sadly, to be expected from time to time, but we didn’t imagine anything on this scale.

A time machine to the Middle Ages: Adding to our pain, within days of the attacks, as we slowly began to comprehend the enormity of the loss and the cruelty of the violence, whatever of the world’s sympathy we seemed to evoke quickly dissipated, and the most outrageous lies began to spread:

 • The attacks never even happened. The images and videos were all Israeli AI-generated as a pretext to wage war on the people of Gaza.

• Reports of Hamas cruelty, torture and gang rape were made up entirely or exaggerated – the Koran forbids such behavior.

• Since all Israelis are occupiers, what Hamas did was justified. Instead of condemning it, we should celebrate it as an “act of resistance”

And even before the IDF began moving ground forces into Gaza, the biggest lie, the worst calumny began to be heard: Israel is committing a genocide in Gaza. We have traveled back in time to the blood libel, the most ridiculous lie that could be fabricated about the Jews. Repeat it again and again until it becomes normalized.

A time machine to the Holocaust: It’s true that the events of Oct. 7 resulted in the largest loss of Jewish life since the Holocaust. But just because many Jews were tortured, raped, kidnapped and murdered, doesn’t make such an event a “Holocaust.” And can we really liken the threat posed by a relatively weak terrorist group like Hamas with Hitler’s army that numbered more than 15 million soldiers? The events are of such a vastly different scale, how can they possibly be compared?

And yet, in so many ways, to so many Jews, what we are watching unfold feels like a “never again” moment. Given the trauma we have experienced, is it any surprise that so many Jews feel so vulnerable and threatened right now?

In such a moment, is it any wonder that we see the phrase “Never Again Is Now” over and over on our social media feeds? We’ve moved backwards in ways that should disturb us deeply. But we don’t have to accept the present reality as one that cannot be changed.

How can we find a path forward that can transport us to a more hopeful future?

We must act together: Jews and their allies must work together to combat the hatred, intolerance, and religious fundamentalism that inspire acts of terror like Oct. 7. In one voice, we must repudiate Hamas and the other terrorist organizations that serve as proxies to Iran.

While we refuse to live in the past or be defined by it, we must continue to look to the past for meaning, wisdom and inspiration. Ours is not the only road to redemption, but we do believe that our 3,500-year-old tradition of learning can help us move from this moment of pain toward hope, rebuilding and renewal, toward a future where swords can become ploughshares, where strangers can be protected and loved, where enemies can become friends. Our Jewish wisdom can be a light in the darkness for us and for others as well.

We must remind ourselves collectively that empathy is not a zero-sum game. We can and must work to combat antisemitism and the demonization of Israel. At the same time, we can and should be supportive of the right of other peoples — including the Palestinian people to self-determination and dignity. The main barrier to this today is the terror organizations funded by Iran and its allies.

We must collectively remember that our purpose is to bring light to the world. And, especially in moments of darkness, we must rededicate ourselves to that goal. It’s especially hard at a time of war, which is, by definition, bloody and hellish, but we refuse to give up our humanity even in the face of hatred, extremism and terror.

We must collectively remember that our purpose is to bring light to the world. And, especially in moments of darkness, we must rededicate ourselves to that goal.

Oct. 7 is a time machine that has taken us back to some of the darkest moments of human history. But it is not our fate to remain there. We can move forward toward the light together.

Rabbi Yoshi Zweiback is the Senior Rabbi of Stephen Wise Temple in Los Angeles, California.