Is Israel fighting the October 7 War or the Simchat Torah War? - opinion

Names carry immense significance. The manner in which we choose to memorialize pivotal events in our national history shapes our collective memory of these transformative moments. Oct. 7 is a day that will live in infamy within Jewish history, conjuring haunting images of our dark tragedy and of the ensuing war that is currently waging.

But that day was also Simchat Torah. Our adversaries hoped to weaponize a sacred day of Jewish celebration to their strategic advantage. 

Should this conflict be remembered solely as the “Oct. 7 War,” or should it also be called the “Simchat Torah War”? This year, the distinction became even more pronounced due to the Jewish leap year, which caused Simchat Torah to occur a full two weeks after Oct. 7, underscoring the divergence between these two dates.

By referring to the war as both the “Oct. 7 War” and the “Simchat Torah War,” we evoke different dimensions of this tragedy and its far-reaching aftermath. Each title suggests different layers of meaning, shaping our memory of this pivotal moment in Jewish history. 

Oct. 7

Most people associate the tragedy and the war with Oct. 7. Our solemn national ceremonies took place on this date, and the world at large recognizes this date. The Oct. 7 designation underscores the global and international dimensions of the conflict. By referring to the war through its secular date, we acknowledge its far-reaching ramifications, extending beyond our land and national history.

As Jews, we pray for a divine kingdom in which the entire world recognizes God and is uplifted by His presence. Redemption, for us, is not a narrow or parochial experience, nor does it entail the messianic conversion of every human being to Judaism. Rather, it is the revelation of God’s presence, becoming evident and unmistakable as the nations acknowledge His existence and celebrate our role in modeling a life aligned with His will.

This war is a struggle over the presence of God in this world. Our adversaries misrepresent Him as an angry and bloodthirsty deity who delights in the suffering and death of the innocent. Though they appear and speak as religious people, they are religious impostors. God is merciful, not vengeful. Denying the ways of God is tantamount to denying His presence. They are atheists. 

Oct. 7 was not merely an assault upon our people but also vandalized the image of God in our world. That day marked a setback for the global awareness of a just and compassionate God. We hope to restore that image and to reaffirm a God of mercy and justice in the eyes of the world.

Oct. 7 also awakened dormant antisemitism, from the boulevards of Europe to the campuses of the US. We thought that bigoted hatred of Jews was a relic of a savage and violent past, a world long left behind. Yet we discovered that it still simmers beneath the thin veneer of a seemingly polite and enlightened society of tolerance and cooperation, poised to erupt at the first opportune moment.

Antisemitism is not merely a threat to the Jewish people. As the oldest hatred, it may begin with Jews, but it never ends there. When humanity seeks to destroy Jews, it ultimately wounds itself. The battle against antisemitism is not only a fight for the safety of the Jewish people; it is a struggle to save humanity from its darker demons.

Finally, we have come to realize just how fractured modern culture has become. Truth is rendered subjective, good and evil are relativized, and even heinous acts like rape are framed as forms of resistance. We have witnessed the erosion of fundamental values and the blurring of basic distinctions between right and wrong. Faulty cultural narratives have been dragged into this conflict, and part of our struggle is to mend a broken culture and to restore moral clarity and shared fundamental values.

By adopting the term “Oct. 7 War,” we acknowledge that the effects of this conflict extend well beyond Israel’s borders. It is not solely a matter of Jewish destiny; the broader impact reaches across the world, shaping religious consciousness, defeating Jew-hatred, and rebuilding fractured cultural values.

Simchat Torah War

It is imperative to also refer to the war as the “Simchat Torah War,” just as the 1973 conflict is remembered as the Yom Kippur War. The assault on Simchat Torah carried profound symbolism as part of a historical struggle waged against our people and our Torah. By targeting us on the day we celebrate the divine Torah, our enemies launched an attack not just on our nation and land but upon the Torah itself.

This assault upon Torah is not a new phenomenon; it began nearly 2,200 years ago. The ancient pagan world did not harbor particular animosity toward the Jews or their God. Heaven was a carnival of many gods, and the Jewish deity was seen as just another divine figure, coexisting with the multitude of deities. Any friction that existed between Jews and non-Jews was mainly geopolitical rather than religious.

However, as humanity began to move toward a monotheistic worldview, the Torah became a focal point of animosity. This shift started during the days of Greek persecution, when various decrees were issued to prevent us from fulfilling divine commandments. Something about our devotion to a singular God and a sacred life of moral behavior and commandments irked the Greeks. It was during this period that Apostomus – likely a Greek officer, given the name – burned a Torah scroll in the Temple, a tragedy commemorated on the fast of Tamuz 17. Our enemies recognized that the Torah was central to our national spirit, and by banning and burning it, they hoped to destroy us.

The Romans continued this sinister campaign against the Torah, outlawing its study and unleashing brutality upon our sages. Their merciless execution of the Ten Martyrs, including sages like Rabbi Hanania ben Teradion, who was wrapped in a Torah scroll and burned alive, reflected a deep hostility toward the Torah and its study. As monotheism spread, so did the assault upon Torah.

During the medieval period, this assault shifted to a more intellectual battleground. Rather than burning scrolls, our adversaries sought to undermine the Torah’s authority by putting the Oral Law on trial. In the 13th century, two prominent trials targeted the Talmud, challenging its legitimacy and teachings. These disputes were often conducted in environments where freedom of expression was severely restricted, serving as a form of psychological warfare against the Jewish people. The aim was clear: If the Torah could be discredited, then the Jewish spirit could be broken. Furthermore, throughout medieval Europe, Torah publication faced strict censorship as part of a broader attempt to suppress Jewish spirit and eliminate Torah study. 

This war being launched on Simchat Torah was no coincidence. Our enemies are provoked by our presence in this ancient land, a land explicitly earmarked for us in the Torah. In 2023, Simchat Torah was a tragic day. For reasons beyond our understanding, God did not answer our prayers on the day we celebrate receiving His Torah. Yet, it is unimaginable that in heaven, the day we celebrate Jewish selection will be leveraged against us. 

We hope that one day we will grasp the full meaning behind these events, and Simchat Torah will once again be a day of unbroken celebration and joy. 

The writer is a rabbi at the hesder pre-military Yeshivat Har Etzion/Gush, with ordination from YU and a master’s in English literature from CUNY. His latest book is titled Reclaiming Redemption: Deciphering the Maze of Jewish History (Mosaica Press).