Judaism Is a People, and Israel Is Part of That Story
I write this as we enter the holiday of Hanukkah, arguably the most Zionist holiday in existence. Not because Zionism began then. It did not. But because Hanukkah reminds us that Jewish self-determination, Jewish sovereignty, and Jewish survival in our ancestral land are not modern inventions.
They are ancient. Long before modern political movements, Jews sat by the rivers of Babylon and wept as they prayed to return home. Long before Herzl, Jews faced exile, persecution, and erasure, and still refused to disappear. The Maccabees did not fight for abstract ideals. They fought to live as Jews in the land of Israel.
Hanukkah is not just about light. It is about resistance. It is about continuity. It is about the refusal to surrender Jewish identity, Jewish land, or Jewish future.
Over the years, I have become a go-to person for many of my non-Jewish friends when they want to understand Judaism. One of the things that surprises them most is this: Judaism is not just a religion. At least not in the Western sense most Americans are used to.
Judaism is a tribe. A family. A people. And yes, it has a deep, ancient religion at its core.
We do not proselytize. Most Jews are born Jews. And yet when someone converts, they are not simply adopting a belief system. They are joining a family and a people with a shared history, shared responsibility, and a shared future.
That distinction matters.
When a family member is in pain, you feel it differently. When a family member dies, you mourn differently. Do we feel empathy for all people? Of course. Just as you feel sorrow when you hear that a stranger has cancer.
But you also know the difference between that feeling and what it does to you when your cousin dies suddenly. Judaism has always understood this. That is why Jews speak of themselves not only as a faith, but as a people. That is why Jewish memory is collective. That is why Jewish survival has always depended on unity, even when we disagree fiercely. Zionism flows directly from this understanding. Zionism is not an abstract political ideology. It is the belief that the Jewish people have the right to self-determination in their ancestral homeland. It is the understanding that Jews, like every other people, deserve safety, dignity, and the ability to defend themselves.
As Jews assimilate more deeply into Western society, many of us forget this. We become more comfortable. More individualistic. More “Jew-ish” than Jewish.
This year alone, Jews have been attacked in synagogues, at Jewish schools, on college campuses, in streets, cafes, and public spaces around the world. In the United States. In Europe. In Australia. In Israel. Some attacks made headlines. Many did not. All were aimed at Jews because they were Jews.
At Bondi Beach, the attackers did not ask who was anti-Zionist, who was pro-Zionist, who was religious or secular, who was intermarried, or who voted which way. It did not matter.
History teaches this lesson again and again. Our enemies do not sort us by denomination or political preference. They see Jews. Israel exists because Jews learned, painfully, that relying on the goodwill of others was not enough. It exists because Jewish lives matter. Not more than others. But not less either.
When Jews are targeted as Jews, it hits differently. It hits your bones.
I will close with one of my favorite lines from the singer Matisyahu, a phrase that should serve as a reminder and a mantra for every Jew: “Son of King David, Maccabee to the end of time.”
That is who we are.
