As 5785 is coming to an end, it's time for us again to look back (that's what historians do) and ask: What have we learned? 

Two years after the twofold attack against Israel and diaspora Jews, we find ourselves in a war of attrition. In Israel it's a very real and physical war, while in the diaspora, it's rather cultural, social, and in many ways symbolic. Because as diaspora Jews, we are confronted almost daily with ongoing pressure to give up on our particular story and the solidarity with Israel: To turn our back on Zion or be ostracized. Simply put: To assimilate. To keep our socially no longer respectable Judaism to ourselves or be shunned. As Mahmud Khalil said in his interview with the New York Times, the Jewish supporters of his agitation against Jewish solidarity are crucial in showing the world "what real Judaism is". Thus we, Khalil's targets, who pray facing Zion and for her, must be the fake Jews. Yet the New York Times didn't even bother to question his claim or rather propaganda. And since they didn't question it, we probably should.

The midrash tells that our patriarch Abraham was standing firmly on the one side while the entire world stood on the other. In other words, he was different, and not in terms of diversity and snowflakes, but fundamentally different. His whole world, much like ours in the diaspora, was on the Other Side - and yet he didn't cave. Since then, we have had a very long und well documented history of resistance to the (rest of the) world, standing more or less firmly and maintaining our story, our identity. 

Indeed, there are many exceptions: In every generation some of us assimilated (think of Channukah and the Hellenistic Jews). There have always been some of us who crossed to the other side, often using their knowledge of our tradition to weaponize it against us - centuries before Mahmud Khalil's "real Jews" of America.

But in these two years, we've also seen how much Israel is - and actually has always been - an American value. Going back to the founders and 18th century Enlightenment, America was founded on the notion of the nation as the new Israel. If the Renaissance was a ("re"-)discovery of Hellenism and Roman antiquity, then the Enlightenment was a rediscovery of the Hebrew Bible and its protagonist: The People of Israel.

Unlike Christianity, that understands itself as faith, or Islam, which describes itself as law (both, thus, universal by definition) - the Jewish relationship with Him is all about a people, the people, the prototype - for better or worse. In terms of its own story, the People of Israel is defined as chosen - this is, ultimately, what makes us (and not other nations) His people. This is why we engage, "in every generation" and every year, with the story of how we were chosen and became a people (in the Passover haggadah); and why we remember our exodus, the exodus, at least every Shabbat if not daily. In Chabad's siddur (which happens to be the first on Google), it is translated like so:

At the end of the day, our modern civilization and its modern nations, each with its own spin-off (or cultural appropriation) on chosenness, are ultimately based on us - going all the way back to the early church imagining itself as the new Israel, heir to our covenant. For better or worse, Israel was the role model for modern nation-building. And now that America and, basically, all nation states are seen as oppressive and evil, as a legacy of colonialism, Israel can be "criticized" as the role model for such structural oppression: From a "critical", "post-colonial" or, simply put, anti-4th-of-July point of view, Moses and Joshua can be depicted as civilization's very first settler colonialists, the role model for America and its manifest destiny on "Turtle Island".

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Some Jews respond to this by describing our long history in the land since then in order to maintain Jewish indigeneity - but in our opinion, what's really important is not whether or not our tradition promotes "settler colonialism" (the whole idea of indigeneity seems rather ridiculous if we all came from Africa) - because the accusation of settler colonialism is just the current manifestation of something much older. Every era comes with its own rationalization for its animosity to our particularism, its own accusation, often best phrased by fellow Jews (whose descendants are no longer with us). So what's important to us in the diaspora is - in our humble opinion - to "zoom out" of our own Zeitgeist and acknowledge the underlying pattern: How our own tradition and identity can and are, once again, being used against us in this war of attrition. Because this is what's actually going on with Khalil's "real Judaism" and the New York Times propagating it unquestioned. Apparently, this is the new "obvious".

At this moment we often think of Abraham and how isolated he was, while the whole world stood on the other side. In the diaspora, the unfortunately overwhelming success of the other side in the last two years brought about a significant social and professional price tag to upholding our story, our identity, in face of such epistemic and in some cities even physical violence. When holding your position means standing like Abraham against the whole world, it can feel as if one is opposing the "natural", the "moral", indeed the "obvious". In the diaspora, standing against the whole world can mean going against "common sense", "rationality", "humanity" even. How could anybody in their right mind dare to defend settler colonialism, ethno-states, let alone Zionism in 2025?

Except for us, it's 5785. And we are not fake, but very real. For us, Zion is not a metaphor or an allegory, but as real and actual as we are: not heirs to Israel's covenant, but the actual People of Israel. The real deal. Yes, chosen to be a people. Choosing to be a people, in every generation. From our parents to our children, the next link in our chain of Bnai Brith - children of the covenant. We are different Jews, in different continents, with different practices and ideas - but one people, in solidarity. "The whole of Israel", says the Talmud, "are responsible for each other". And while young Jews from the diaspora, including Germany, are serving, often as volunteers, in the actual war - at the very least we can and will stand with Israel, even if the whole world stands on the other side.

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This means that as diaspora Jews we need to face, probably for the first time in our own lifetime, the choice of being chosen. Of consciously upholding our particular identity and not caving in spite of the worsening price tag. As, actually, so many Jews were facing before us, whose continuous choices from generation to generation allowed our story to continue up to us. Now, it's our turn to face the choice of chosenness. And here, in Berlin, we are reminded that it might not be a matter of choice after all.

But let us finish on a positive note, because in light of what's going on elsewhere, Berlin has actually surprised us positively in these two years. In spite of the overwhelming trend against us, which even the chancellor couldn't resist, Berlin - since 1990 one of the 16 states in the German federation - decided to have the flag of Israel hoisted in front of Berlin's many local government buildings across the city. Never have there been so many Stars of David waving all around Berlin for so long. To be honest, we weren't sure they'll stick to it "until the last hostage returns", as Kai Wegner, Berlin's governing mayor announced. And yet so far, and unlike our chancellor, he has in fact been holding this position, helping us do the same. 

This is indeed just a local gesture - but also an important, symbolic stand in this war of attrition. When the two of us walk to our synagogue, we come across a few government buildings, and it feels encouraging to be offered public support at such a difficult time - as if the state is saying: "If you have a problem with our Jews, take it out on us." This may also be a relevant context for the ongoing reports on violent clashes of protesters with the Berlin police, which also protects about 200 Jewish locations (schools, synagogues, community centers and suchlike). As some texts on our website reflect, we had for many years quite a critical understanding of Germany's memory culture and how it turned Berlin into a showcase for the national rebranding project - but as imperfect as it is, it might have actually made at least some difference, with some Germans.

May 5786 bestow upon you, your families and all of us the health and strength to keep our story going. From generation to generation:

Shana Tova

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Am Yisrael Chai

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