Ending the Roller Coaster Ride

I adore roller coasters – the initial gradual climb leading higher and higher; the rapid descent; the exhilarating feeling as you return to where it all began. 

But as Jews have discovered in recent years, when it comes to Israel and antisemitism, living a roller coaster life is something quite different. The climbs are scarier, the descents unbearable and any trust that we will safely exit has been brought into question.

For me, the roller coaster ride started in 2023 with a brazen attempt by the Netanyahu government to centralize power under the guise of “judicial reform.” While the ensuing protests shattered any notion of a united populace in Israel and in the Diaspora, it was gratifying to see that large numbers were unwilling to just stand by and allow it to happen. 

Then came Oct. 7. I still can’t understand how Israeli leaders were so unprepared in light of months of clues foreshadowing impending disaster. But it was not the time to criticize the government when the nation was fighting for its very survival. And then the stunning successes in the wars against Hezbollah and Iran offered hope for a lasting peace. 

Alas, that optimism has faded, and we are forced to deal with constant reminders of the devastation in Gaza that seems to a watching world as if it will never end. Of course, Hamas clearly cares nothing about the people of Gaza. They seem to take equal pleasure in creating “martyrs” in front of a global audience as they do in killing Jews. Yet a tone-deaf Netanyahu, and images flooding the media, play right into their hands.

While the biased reporting from the likes of CNN and The New York Times makes me sick, it is irrefutable that there is extraordinary suffering in Gaza and that even our friends and allies are turning against us as a result. Let’s not forget that we were raised to repair the world. 

It isn’t easy for me to publicly critique the words and actions of Israeli leaders. I’ve always believed that complaining about Israeli policies should be the exclusive purview of those who reside there. But if you love Israel as I do with all my heart, I don’t see any alternative to calling out Netanyahu when he is fostering chaos and division at home and abroad.

It wasn’t that long ago that an Israeli official informed me that he had seen a file stating that I was the most pro-Israel university president in America. He told me that Israeli leaders were mystified that when the student governments at a number of prominent U.S. universities voted in favor of Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions policies, most of those schools had a muted response. The file noted that when it happened in 2015 at Northwestern, while I was its president, Northwestern’s deans and vice presidents accompanied me to Israel, their mission being to generate alliances with as many universities and research centers as possible. And they did exactly that.

I remain proudly pro-Israel, but it is clear to me that Israeli leaders have clumsily mismanaged the Gazan end-game, failing to offer a road map toward a more secure region.  

I’m reminded of the story about two men standing on oppositive sides of a raging river. One shouts out to the other, “Can I help you get across?” The second man replies: “No thanks, I am already here.”

Netanyahu and his partners have crossed that metaphorical river, with apparently no interest in returning to a place and a time where Israel was rightly seen by many as a democratic beacon for the world to emulate. 

I continue to wear my IDF yarmulke each Shabbat. It is a sign of respect for those who serve so bravely, not for the government officials who have failed them.

Will we ever disembark from this roller coaster of hope and despair? While it is undeniable that Hamas is the biggest obstacle to peace, can Netanyahu finally forge a hostage deal, a ceasefire and a day-after plan? I pray that there will be some progress by the time this column appears in print, but am skeptical following months of unfulfilled optimism.

If Jewish history has taught us anything, it is that we must neither abandon our hope for a just future, nor underestimate the amount of hard work needed to bring it about. 

Still, if Jewish history has taught us anything, it is that we must neither abandon our hope for a just future, nor underestimate the amount of hard work needed to bring it about.