By Rabbi Dr. David Fox, JNS
The Jewish people have faced countless attempts at annihilation throughout history, and each time, we have emerged stronger.
The dust has not settled because the pain still runs deep. One year ago on Oct. 7, Israel witnessed a massacre that shook the Jewish world to its core. The barbarism of that day, when infants, siblings and parents were brutally slaughtered, is a tragedy that many have tried to rationalize or obscure. As Joseph Stalin once remarked, “Kill one person, and it’s a tragedy; kill many, and it’s a statistic.”
But for us, this is no statistic. It’s an unending nightmare.
The world has moved on, shifting its focus to other events, allowing the memory of that Black Shabbat to fade or be twisted into political narratives. Yet for the people of Israel and Jews worldwide, the horrors have not ended. Hundreds of hostages, including a Jewish baby, remain hidden in Gaza’s underground tunnels beyond the reach of humanitarian aid or the Red Cross. A year later, they remain trapped, while their captors evade condemnation. For those who stand with Israel, this pain is unyielding. The captives are more than headlines; they are mothers, fathers, children and friends. Each passing day weighs heavily as we grapple with a question that echoes through history: How do we endure when the world turns its back on our suffering?
When Jews are persecuted simply for being Jews—when hatred rears its head as it did during the Crusades, the Inquisition, the pogroms and the Holocaust—it is an attempt to erase us from history. Yet history has shown that such attempts only strengthen our resolve. In the months since Oct. 7, Jews around the world have set aside differences and come together. The one positive outcome of such oppression is that it unites us, reminding us of our shared identity, our faith and our strength.
Since biblical times, we have placed our trust in God, not in allies who shift their loyalties with the changing winds. After Oct. 7, a stunned nation grieved. We watched videos of our so-called “neighbors” beheading children, gunning down households, raping young women and mutilating the innocent. We buried our dead, mourned their loss and felt the world’s indifference as the narrative shifted against us. As the dust settled, the world’s attention turned away, and media outlets began framing the aftermath of the massacre within a false “context,” ignoring the heinousness of the original acts. Antisemitism reared its ugly head on college campuses and in public spaces, where Jews were harassed and attacked simply for existing. We witnessed the bizarre transformation of “sanction”—a word that means both to approve and to penalize—as the world sanctioned our suffering while condoning protests that targeted us.
This conflation of Jewish identity with political ideology created a dangerous atmosphere where every Jew became a target. Regardless of one’s political stance, being Jewish became synonymous with being an “oppressor.” This twisted logic was used to justify assaults, harassment and expulsion from dormitories and lecture halls. Still, even as hatred flared, our spirit did not break. We stood firm, recognizing that the true battle was not just for Israel’s survival but for the soul of the Jewish people.
In the past year, the psychological impact of Oct. 7 has become evident. The pain hasn’t faded, but the Jewish community has responded with compassion, solidarity and action. We have opened our homes to refugees, fed the hungry and offered comfort to the grieving. Our collective trauma has inspired a renewed commitment to charity, kindness and faith. For Jews in Israel and the Diaspora, this year has been a time of reflection and resilience. Many have reexamined their political beliefs, their sense of identity and their relationship with God. There’s been a resurgence in religious observance with Jews finding solace in prayer, study and community. This return to faith is not about fanaticism but about finding strength in our traditions and values.
The world is unaccustomed to seeing Israel fight back. When Israelis say “never again,” it’s a declaration that they will not be passive in the face of hatred and violence. This assertion of strength has invited condemnation, with many quick to criticize Israel’s actions while remaining silent about the atrocities that provoked them. Despite the roars of disapproval, Israelis and Jews worldwide refuse to be shamed into submission. We remember the silence that greeted our suffering and the accusations hurled at us when we defended ourselves. But we also remember that our strength lies in our unity, in our unwavering belief that we have a right to exist, to thrive and to protect our people.
The events of Oct. 7 wounded us deeply, but they did not defeat us. The Jewish people have faced countless attempts at annihilation throughout history, and each time, we have emerged stronger.
Today, we continue to stand together, united by our shared pain but also by our shared hope for a better future. Our resilience is our answer to those who seek to destroy us. The memory of our lost ones will never fade, but neither will our commitment to life, faith, each other and human decency. Long after the dust settles, long after the world forgets, the Jewish people will endure. We were wounded but are healing. We are here to stay.
As we move forward, we invite others to stand with us—not out of pity or obligation but out of recognition that the fight against hatred is a fight for humanity itself. Let Oct. 7 be a reminder not just of the horrors we endured, but of the strength, compassion and resilience that define us.
