The holidays have not felt like the holidays for many a year, now. And Pesach was always my favorite. When I was small—six, or seven, or eight—I remember huge family dinners, with all the uncles, grandparents, and cousins. There was always so much food that we only got to have each year on that night, from matzah, to gefilte fish, to brisket. I remember when I was the one who had to recite the Four Questions. Some years, we would be at my grandparents’ house, and being ‘enlightenment’ Jews, we went through the Haggadah quickly, so that we could all indulge our appetites for food as soon as possible. And some years, we went to a granduncle’s house, who being pious, would go through the entire seder properly, in orthodox fashion. It was hard to wait for the food and conversation as a child in those days—but it was also fun to go through the retellings of the ancient stories.
As I got older, I would have to find my own accommodations—Local Hillel fellowships…Chabad missionary outreaches…other Jews with enough family and material comfort so as to be able to invite me in to help celebrate. I especially miss seders at my old martial arts teacher’s home.
Now, I live in China, working in a Beijing high school, teaching English…or rather, giving English learners a chance to practice their English with a native speaker. And here, while I do know there is a Chabad outreach somewhere in the city, I am essentially alone. I would never be given time off for other than a Chinese festival. And anyway, without family of my own, I don’t see much point to observing the holidays.
This year, of course, Pesach will be especially difficult. This year, as a community, over one hundred and thirty of us are in captivity. If they still live. I, alas, am not optimistic. In addition to the Cup of Elijah, left out for the prophet, many of us will leave an empty chair and place at the table, for our loved ones still being held by our enemies in Gaza.
I will not here go into stories of woe, designed to elicit the sympathy of others, because to be honest, I find them tiresome. I read them again and again on social media, as Jews try to make others understand what we are going through. But the thing is, no one cares what we are going through. We are only Jews, and we deserve all the misfortune that befalls us. And it’s no use arguing with these acolytes of terror, these Jew-haters who sympathize with our enemies, who have no understanding of the conflict except for whatever propaganda our enemies feed them.
“Oh, it’s not antisemitism,” they say, “It’s anti-Zionism,” as they attack visibly Jewish people in North America and Europe. “Oh, we don’t hate Jews; we are against Israel,” they say, as they attack synagogues rather than protest at Israeli embassies and consulates. They deny the very evidence recorded by Gazans themselves at the latest attacks. They refuse to listen to the very words of Hamas and Hezbollah themselves. Worse, they agree with our enemies. They want go make the Levant Judenrein, but they claim that we are genocidal invaders. We have offered peace time and again, only to be rejected. Then they resent the defensive measures we put into place to protect ourselves, and call it apartheid.
But of course, we have always been on our own. We have always been without allies. The world loves and pities dead Jews, but not the living Jew, who fights back. Well and good. My feeling is that we should withdraw from the social justice causes we once helped establish and in which we once participated; the gentiles don’t want us there. Fine. Let them help themselves. Our breakthroughs in science, medicine, and technology, we can keep for ourselves. I believe we should simply put our heads down, leave the spaces we are not wanted, and continue working for ourselves, doing what we have to do to destroy our enemies and safeguard our lives.
I was once one of those Jews who, seeing the suffering of our neighbors, would wonder if the preservation of the Jewish body was worth the cost of the Jewish soul. But since October 7? I see, now. I hate to admit, but that Kahane was right. My parents and grandparents warned throughout my life that one day, even from America, we would be forced to flee.
It is time to withdraw. Let the goyim look to themselves. We must tend to our own tribe.
Chag Pesach Sameach. Pass the charoses; let our enemies gorge on the morror.
Nudnik Online 