Throughout history, the Jewish people have faced extraordinary external threats from powerful empires to waves of antisemitism that never truly vanish. Yet history shows that external dangers alone have never defeated us. What has come closest to breaking us, more than once, was something internal, division, especially when political and religious leaders let their disagreements harden into hostility.
Our sages taught that the First Temple fell because of idolatry, bloodshed, and immorality. However, the Second Temple, they said, was destroyed because of sinat chinam “baseless hatred,” among Jews themselves. That lesson, more than two millennia old, feels painfully urgent today.
Even as Israel defends itself against enemies on multiple fronts, its society is increasingly consumed by internal strife: disputes over military service, judicial reform, economic inequality, and deep divisions over one man’s long-term leadership, his unwillingness to share power, and the failure to raise and empower future leaders all of which go to the heart of the state’s identity. In the Diaspora, too, arguments about Israel’s policies often fracture communities and weaken solidarity at the very moment when unity is most needed.
The most pressing challenge before us, then, is not simply military or diplomatic. It is the challenge of preserving Jewish unity in an age of profound disagreement. And yet, within this challenge lies an opportunity to demonstrate that the Jewish people can model a covenantal society built not on uniformity but on mutual responsibility.
A blueprint for responsibility
My teacher, the late Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, of blessed memory, offered a timeless vision for moments like this. He taught that Judaism is not only a religion but a covenant of shared responsibility. As the Talmud puts it: “All Israel is responsible for one another.”
For Rabbi Sacks, this was not an abstract principle but a recipe for survival. “We come into this world through others, and we survive in this world because of others,” he said. The test of our character is not how we treat those who agree with us, but how we engage those who differ.
This is especially vital for Israel, where passionate disagreement is part of national life. Rabbi Sacks reminded us that difference does not mean disloyalty. “The dignity of difference,” he wrote, means seeing the other not as a threat to my identity but as the condition of my humanity.
Within Israel, that means recognizing the contributions of secular and religious Ashkenazi and Mizrahi, Left and Right. Beyond Israel, it means engaging Arab and Muslim neighbors not only as adversaries but as potential partners.
The Torah itself provides a model for this. Abraham, pleading with God over the fate of Sodom, spoke with persistence and humility (Genesis 18). He did not agree with God’s judgment, but he engaged with courage and respect. That story, Rabbi Sacks often noted, teaches us that even disagreement must be conducted in the language of dignity.
Christian allies and shared bonds
We must also remember that the Jewish people are not alone. Across the world, millions of Christians stand with Israel not for political gain but out of faith, conviction, and deep moral solidarity.
Sometimes Jews are cautious about this support, but Rabbi Sacks urged us to embrace it. He believed interfaith partnerships were not threats but opportunities to strengthen our moral foundations. “Those who are confident in their own faith need not fear the faith of others,” he reminded us.
When Christians advocate for Israel, they remind the world that Israel’s struggle is not only a Jewish concern but a universal one. When Jews combat antisemitism, we are not only defending ourselves but resisting the oldest form of hatred that corrupts societies everywhere. In that sense, Jewish survival and Christian advocacy for Israel are part of the same moral project: to affirm the dignity of human difference against the forces that would erase it.
From fragmentation to covenant
What steps can we take to meet this challenge?
• See every Jew as family. Political and religious divides must not erase our shared covenant. The Torah calls us to build a society rooted in justice and compassion, not endless strife.
• Strengthen bonds with allies. Christian communities that stand with Israel should be honored and engaged, not taken for granted.
• Model unity to the world. When our disagreements become bitter, the world sees weakness. When Jews and Christians work together in moral clarity, the world sees hope.
This is not easy work. Unity does not mean uniformity, and shared responsibility does not erase disagreement. But it demands that we argue without hatred, that we disagree without contempt, and that we build bridges across divides that otherwise become chasms.
A call to renewal
Rabbi Sacks often distinguished optimism from hope. “Optimism is the belief that things will get better. Hope is the belief that we can make things better.”
What the Jewish people need now is not blind optimism, but active hope. Hope that sinat chinam will not define our generation. Hope that our shared responsibility, to each other and to our allies, will become stronger than our disagreements.
Israel will endure its external enemies. The greater question is whether we will overcome our internal divisions. If we remember our covenant, honor our allies, and choose hope over despair, we will not only survive – we will thrive.
And in doing so, we may yet fulfill our ancient mission: to be a light unto the nations.
The writer is an international educator, community activist, and diplomacy expert. He has served in the Israel Police and represented the Knesset on matters of international public affairs.