Let’s be clear from the start: I’m not here to deny the famine in Gaza. I’m not here to debate blame, geopolitics, or competing narratives.
Today, I’m here for something else. Maybe it’s selfish—but today, I’m speaking for my People.
A People not perfect. A People who stumble, who argue, who fail.
But also a People who survive. Who learn. Who love. Who are worthy.
My People.
So yes, famine in Gaza had made headlines all over the world. But what happens when the suffering in Gaza—famine, torture, psychological abuse—is inflicted not on Palestinians, but on Jews?
This week, Hamas and Islamic Jihad released videos of Israeli hostages Evyatar David and Rom Braslavski, both abducted on October 7 and held in Gaza since.
Emaciated. Sunken-eyed. Tortured. One was forced to dig his own grave. Another marked the days in a concrete cell. Both looked like they came out of a history book, except this isn’t history. This is now.
And yet, the silence was deafening.
No international op-eds. No urgent calls from human rights groups. No trending campaigns or hashtags.
Not even a whisper from the anti Zionist Jews who love to look us down in the name of Justice and Righteousness.
The False Righteousness of Disavowing Your Own
As angry as I am at the world, it’s them—our own people—I am especially furious with.
The ones who cry out in rage whenever Israel acts but fall silent when Israelis suffer.
Not the government – Civilians. Hostages. Children.
The ones who invoke the Shoah to attack and demonize the only Jewish state, all while denying the present-day starvation and brutalization of Jewish people.
The ones who claim to honor our past, even as they erase our present.
Where is their anger now, when Jewish bodies are once again reduced to bone and breath in the name of ideology?
You don’t have to support the Israeli government to recognize the humanity of its citizens.
Anti Zionist Jews often drape themselves in moral superiority, claiming their stance flows from Jewish values. From Tikkun Olam. From justice.
They speak as if they are the true gatekeepers of Judaism, accusing over 90% of world Jewry of having lost our way.
They present themselves as the righteous few. The enlightened remnant.
But what I see—what I can’t unsee—is how easily they dismiss Jewish suffering.
Not once. Not twice. But again and again, for nearly two years.
That’s not moral clarity. That’s internalized antisemitism.
Antisemitism that has wormed its way so deep it now passes for identity. For ethics.
Antisemitism that has convinced them that detachment from their own People is a virtue.
But what kind of virtue turns a blind eye to Jews being raped, massacred, starved, and tortured?
What kind of Jewish values fail to recognize Jewish humanity?
This isn’t righteousness. It’s abandonment.
Not resistance—but surrender.
When “Never Again” Has Fine Print
And the rest of the world?
They tell us the videos are “propaganda.” That the starvation is staged. That the trauma is exaggerated. That maybe October 7 was invented altogether.
When the victims are Jews, there’s always a reason to look away.
Or worse—some justification that we deserve it.
In other words: Jewish pain is negotiable. Jewish trauma is suspicious. Jewish suffering is real only when it can be weaponized against us.
The same people who see a crying child and cry out for justice suddenly doubt everything when Jewish children are being brutally murdered.
The same people who shout “Never Again” fall silent when the perpetrators aren’t white nationalists—but Islamist militants.
The same people who say “all lives matter” don’t seem to mean it when the lives are ours.
We don’t ask for your pity. We ask for your honesty.
If you were moved by images of Palestinian hunger, you should also be moved by Jewish hostages starving in captivity.
If you claim to advocate for survivors, act like it when Jews are the ones being brutalized.
If you say you’re anti-fascist, stand against all dehumanization—not just the kind that flatters your politics.
Because if your empathy has an asterisk next to the word Jew,
then it was never empathy to begin with.
Built from the Ruins, Bound to the Future
There’s no uplifting ending I can offer today. I’m too angry. Too heartbroken.
Today is one of those days I feel hopeless.
But as Tisha B’Av starts, I’m reminded: We’ve known destruction before. And we are still here.
We carry with us the resilience, the strength, and the wisdom of generations.
We are our ancestors’ wildest dreams,
And we will not vanish.
We fight for the living.
We mourn the lost.
And we stand—still, always—for the generations to come.
