Germans V Greeks... where are the Jews?

                                                                                        B-H

Recently, I received a link on WhatsApp to a YouTube video featuring an old Monty Python comedy sketch. For most of my life, I consciously chose not to own a TV, even in my old years in Poland. My parents, on the other hand, had two televisions at one point. I vividly remember when they bought their first one, around 1970 or 1971.

However, there was a time when I did get a TV, and one of the shows I truly enjoyed was Monty Python. I wouldn’t recommend it to my more frum readers, as I generally advise against watching TV altogether. Monty Python’s humor is unique, and to appreciate the depth of their films or sketches, one must be quite familiar with general culture.

The video I’m referring to is only three and a half minutes long. In it, the performers depict a hypothetical soccer match between Germans and Greeks. The players are not typical soccer players—except for Franz Beckenbauer, who was a real athlete in the 1970s. The German team includes the likes of Leibnitz, Kant, Hegel, Schopenhauer, Schelling, Jaspers, Beckenbauer (for fun of it), Schlegel, Wittgenstein, Nietzsche, and Heidegger. At one point, Wittgenstein is replaced by a vigorous Karl Marx. The Greek team is made up of Plato, Epictetus, Aristotle, Sophocles, Empedocles, Plotinus, Epicurus, Heraclitus, Democritus, Socrates, and Archimedes. I can’t help but miss one of my favorites, Diogenes, though I suppose Monty Python had their own criteria for selecting the players.

The only non-European on the field is the main referee, Confucius, with St. Augustine and Thomas Aquinas serving as the two side referees.

At one point in my life, I familiarized myself with the writings of nearly all the philosophers mentioned. Some I read directly, while for others, I turned to summaries and analyses of their philosophies. I began with the Greek philosophers and later moved on to the Germans and others.

It’s clear that many nations have contributed significantly to the field of philosophy—French, Russian, British, and Italian philosophers have all made their mark. Poland, with its Bibliotheca Fratrum Polonorum, has its own representation. But no other nation has produced enough philosophers to form a full team, at least not in the same way the Germans and Greeks have. Perhaps Arab philosophers could easily form such a team, but they are often overlooked by the Eurocentric mindset.

There is another group of philosophers—recognised in the academic world but largely unknown to the public, and I don’t mean masses—whom I would like to mention: Jewish philosophers. Some of them lived in Europe and include figures such as Saadia Gaon (technically Asian), Yitzhak ben Yosef, Abraham bar Hiyya, Maimonides, Abraham Ibn Ezra, Yehuda Halevi, Nachmanides, Shlomo Ibn Gabriol, Bahya ibn Pakuda, Yona of Gerona, Levi ben Gershon, Hasdai Crescas, Yosef Albo and many others. This list is far from exhaustive, and it’s fascinating to think that we could form a strong Iberian team of Jewish philosophers. But there is more - Gershom ben Yehuda (Or Hageula), Asher ben Yehiel (Rosh), Yakov ben Asher (Tur). Yosef Caro (Remu), Yehuda Loev of Prague,  Akiva Eiger, Israel ben Eliezer, Shneur Zalman of Liady, Nachman of Breslov, Elimelech of Lizansk, Chaim of Sanc, Yechezkel of Shenava, Symcha Bunim of Przysha, Shimshon Raphael Hirsch, Yisrael Meir Kagan, Eliahu Dessler…we can go on and on and on and we listed not even the part of the major personalities on this possible list, lechavdil to the previous list. We can definitely make our own Olympics.

These philosophers are known not only for their vast knowledge but also for their ability to intertwine multiple disciplines, from law and ethics to mysticism (Kabbalah) and philosophy (Hakira and Hashkafa). The depth and breadth of their works are unparalleled, and their writings reflect an integration of revelation with reason, making their contributions distinct from their non-Jewish counterparts. We are not even going back to the wisdom of Talmudic Sages as I want to stick with Europe.

It’s fun to imagine the greatest minds in history playing sports, and the Monty Python sketch captures this in a humorous way. After the referee’s whistle, instead of playing soccer, the philosophers wander off, some in pairs discussing abstract ideas, others lost in their own thoughts, all while dressed in the attire of their respective eras.

Chazal (our sages) appreciate wisdom from outside our own tradition. There are elements in the wisdom of other nations that we can learn from, which is why halacha reflects a respect for older individuals and scholars. The Maharal, for instance, limits the concept of Chochma Umois Oilom (wisdom of the nations of the world) primarily to the discipline of rhetoric, the art of speech for speech’s sake. Jewish speculation, however, must always have a practical application. Even Kabbalah, Hakira, and Hashkafa ultimately serve to guide our decision-making in the real world.

While non-Jewish philosophers, such as the German existentialists and the classical Greeks, also aimed to connect philosophy with real-life applications, figures like Francis Bacon and John Locke laid the foundations for the social order. But it was the Americans who took these ideas and "kicked the ball" forward.

For millennia, Jews have been "kicking the ball," though the world often doesn’t recognize it. This unfamiliarity with our wisdom can be attributed to two factors: isolationism and exceptionalism. While isolationism results from the persecution Jews have faced throughout history, exceptionalism stems from a sense of mission and the belief that we are different by divine mandate.

This mission is central to our identity, but the challenge arises when this sense of mission veers into a feeling of superiority, something our most humble leaders, like Moshe Rabbeinu, cautioned against.

One of the most jarring experiences I had was studying the history of the Warsaw Ghetto and its uprising. I was deeply shocked by the image of a carousel that operated during the final days of the Ghetto, as Jews were being slaughtered just inside the Ghetto. The disturbing reality was the indifference of those living just beyond the walls, enjoying a peaceful, normal life while horrific atrocities occurred so close by. It echoed a chilling theme of dehumanization, a concept that has haunted history and continues to be relevant today.

Although I am not deeply involved in social media, I use WhatsApp and YouTube to stay connected with family and friends. WhatsApp, in particular, has become a vital tool for maintaining communication, especially with family members, which is crucial for someone like me who travels extensively. Through WhatsApp, I also receive status updates from Jewish users, including advertisements for organized trips to Holy Land. One such trip included stops at major Jewish sites Koisel, Keiver Ruchel, Maaras HaMakpeila, Meron and few other crucial to the Jewish awareness places., except for one unexpected inclusion: the Gaza Border.

Apparently, the Gaza border has now become an official tourist attraction for visitors from abroad. I had heard that, during past conflicts, some individuals even brought folding chairs to the area, as though attending a parade—similar to how people might enjoy a festive event in an American town on the Fourth of July. Seeing this was deeply unsettling to me. It immediately reminded me of the image of the carousel just outside the walls of the Warsaw Ghetto, where, in the midst of unspeakable suffering, some seemed to carry on with their lives as if nothing was amiss or even worse, like this is some kind of entertaining event. I found myself asking: Should I be shocked now, as we observe our nation drifting so far from the ideals our leaders preserved for us, values that we have long cherished as our greatest treasure: the sanctity of human life, dignity, and the right to live in freedom and peace?

Manufacturing Consent

                                                                                                 B-H

Rav Dessler highlights that the insatiable hunger for possessions and gluttony can eventually be satisfied. A person may reach a point where they can no longer eat, sleep in more beds, or drive more cars; there simply aren't enough days in the month to wear all those $500,000 watches. This individual will inevitably hit their peak—or their nadir.

In contrast, the hunger for power is never truly satiated. The thrill of dominating others is endless, only halted by history itself when it stops the conqueror in their quest for control. I intentionally avoid the gender-neutral "his/her" expression, as this issue predominantly affects men. Mothers typically do not grapple with this problem, as power is bestowed upon them in the most beautiful and productive manner.

A man seeking domination will immerse himself in environments that allow him to fulfill this hunger, whether in business, educational institutions, or more commonly, through military careers or political ambitions. However, there exists another avenue to satisfy the desire for dominance: a career in the media.

Even without political or rank power, a propagandist wields the ability to manipulate not only the populace but also politicians, military leaders, and billionaires. A brief digression: consider billionaires who cannot utilize more than they have acquired yet still crave more. While Rav Dessler does not address this, it is evident that these gluttons, after indulging in their obsession with possession, experience both a hunger for ownership and a hunger for power. For them, money equates to the power of domination, enabling them to purchase politicians, countries, armies, and, of course, mass media.

Once power-hungry individuals find themselves in a position of absolute or near-absolute superiority, they begin to reshape the world according to their whims. The thrill of playing god—deciding who lives and who dies, who suffers by fire and who by water, who faces hunger and who meets execution by rule of new law or military action—becomes intoxicating.

Yet, the fundamental truth remains, people generally wish to stay alive and, more broadly, want others to live as well. Those who travel and encounter diverse groups—people of various religions, ethnicities, and intellects—tend to be more aware of humanity's positive traits.

By the grace of G-d, I travel and meet fellow travelers. I read memoirs from both contemporary and historical travelers. Acts of violence are rare; most travelers experience hospitality from those speaking unfamiliar languages and belonging to unknown civilizations.

Those susceptible to propaganda live in fear of nearly everyone. From the days of storytellers captivating villagers with thrilling and sometimes terrifying tales to today's media, which perpetuates fear every moment. Stories or braking bread, helping in trouble, barter exchange or sharing ideas or even technologies are too boring. Horror and terror sell. Stories of danger targeting you or your loved ones are often employed by the powerful to manipulate or pacify the masses.

However, power-hungry individuals can also entice you with promises to garner your support. Rav Hirsch, in his essay commemorating the fiftieth anniversary of the Leipzig Battle, notes that Bonaparte, a bloody conqueror, understood that by promising the nations of Europe "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity," he could garner more support than through mere suppression. He also exploited the fear of the enemy to bolster support for his excesses, a tactic that remains relevant—carrot and stick.

Hitler, may his name be blotted out, employed a similar strategy, albeit with more sophisticated propaganda. His deep-seated antisemitism is unquestionable, yet it is less known that for several years after becoming Führer, he refrained from mentioning Jews in his speeches. Discussing race differences was acceptable, and some separation was tolerated. The emigration of Jews from the Reich was seen as permissible if they wished to establish their own country.

In the early years of the Nazi regime, propaganda focused on organizing the mass emigration of Jews from Germany. Zionists seized this opportunity, first raising awareness about the prosperous developments in Palestine and then establishing the necessary infrastructure for resettlement—bureaus, banks, and legislative support. Unfortunately, this often meant that Jews had to leave most of their possessions behind, and if allowed to take more, it had to be in the form of German-made products to support the German economy. This was the initial Nazi solution, aimed at maintaining calm among the broader German society during the early persecution of Jews.

It is important to note that the Nazis had already established their identity by this time; they did not only become Nazis upon the construction of gas chambers. Implementing discriminatory laws and regulations against other residents in the same territory is indicative of Nazi behavior.

Simultaneously, concentration camps were established, initially for political dissidents—communists, socialists, and pacifists of various creeds. Jews were viewed as the primary proponents of the "wicked" philosophy of pacifism, which contradicted the prevailing notion of "survival of the fittest."

Soon, a secret euthanasia program targeting the physically and mentally disabled was implemented, with parents often misled into believing their children died of natural causes. This was part of a calculated effort to gauge how much criminal behavior the German populace could tolerate.

Years of manufacturing consent, as noted by Reb Avraham Noam, ensued among the German and European populations. Controlling a conquered population through ethnic or religious minorities is not a novel concept; it has occurred across continents and throughout history. Jews have sometimes been used as tools of oppression, as seen in Polish-dominated Ukraine, but more often, they served as scapegoats for societal problems.

Following a series of anti-Jewish laws that restricted the rights of Jewish citizens in Germany, the time came for roundups and mass deportations. Initially, it was not the German Jews who faced this fate, as justifying such actions against them would have been difficult to accept by German Society. Instead, the focus was on immigrants.

Roundups began in the early fall of 1938, primarily targeting Polish Jews living in Germany, some of whom had resided there for most of their lives. They were detained, placed on trains, and sent back to Poland, which was grappling with its own antisemitic fervor—boycotts, legislation, and pogroms were the grim realities for Jews in Poland, who had lived there for generations, even before the nation existed.

 

Poland refused to allow its citizens returning from Germany to cross the border. In the cold, rainy months of October and November, thousands of families found themselves stranded between the Polish and German borders, suffering and dying in the process.

Voices of sympathy emerged from both German and Polish societies, and deportation became increasingly unpopular. There was a genuine risk that the Nazis would lose support for this aspect of their policies. Yet, they were already preparing for the next phase of their plan, needing only a trigger to set events in motion. That trigger was pulled by Hershel Grynszpan at the German embassy in Paris, resulting in the death of German dignitary von Rath, who was himself somewhat anti-Nazi.

Hitler and Goering, may their names be blotted out, declared von Rath a victim of Jewish oppression and terrorism, announcing a day of wrath—Kristallnacht. The murder of the diplomat was deemed sufficient justification for the destruction of Jewish public buildings, private businesses, and the murder of numerous Jews in Germany.

Some may argue that this response was disproportionate, yet no Germans protested. Even those who understood the situation were too intimidated by the Nazi regime's grip to voice dissent publicly. This grip was not solely a product of political organization and police structures; it was by then deeply rooted in the German psyche.

Years of propaganda—through press articles, speeches, and films—conditioned the German, European, and American populations to compliance or indifference. Every crime committed by a Jew was amplified in the public eye. After ensuring that no written or spoken resistance would emerge, lies were fabricated to portray the "other," particularly the Jew, in the most grotesque manner imaginable.

This is how those hungry for power consumed the soul of the people. In the ensuing years, propaganda intensified but never reached a level that allowed for open acknowledgment of the mass murder of Jews and others in death factories. Everything was justified by war, as humanity has long been conditioned to accept that while individual killings are wrong, when powerful interests are at stake, people must die, and mass murder becomes a grim necessity.

For the rest of us, it is always framed in terms of holy faith, our land, our culture, our way of life, and our freedom. The Nazis operated under a sense of superiority. Embracing Darwinism as their worldview, they viewed themselves not only as superior and deserving of more but also as victims of a system created by Jews—Jews who proclaimed that all people are created equal and come from the same origins.

Unfortunately, the hunger for power is not an extinct phenomenon. Post-Holocaust philosophers and thinkers briefly gained prominence, leading to some positive advancements in the aftermath of European, Asian and American societal ruins. International courts of justice and the United Nations emerged to help diffuse conflicts and assist victims, embodying the commandment given to nations to establish systems of justice. While never perfect, this system was far superior to the unchecked hegemony of the early 20th century.

Observing a head of state banging their shoe on a podium or calling each other names may be entertaining, as it reveals the true character of these psychopaths and likely saves many lives. However, this imperfect system of justice is being dismantled before our eyes.

We are witnessing the erosion of international courts, paving the way for new bloodthirsty hegemons who seek control through human suffering. The shifting of borders, the establishment of disparate rules for populations on the same land, expulsions, and mass murder are realities that, if we do not close our eyes and ears or dull our consciences, will undoubtedly rob many of us of sleep.

By the grace of G-d, I have previously written on the value of human life. For those who have made it this far in my essay but cannot access my earlier works, I will reiterate: a society that values human existence less than land, government, buildings, or places of worship is no longer a human society. People willing to sacrifice their own to maintain control over land—regardless of its sanctity—are doomed to catastrophe. How it is different than human sacrifices of Canaanites of old?

Of course, there are situations where someone may be compelled to kill, steal, or take away another's freedom. In such cases, we are justified in responding, even if it results in the tragedy of taking a human life. However, we must always remember that it is a tragedy and strive, like our father Yaakov, to avoid such outcomes by any means possible.

Organizing society based on the principles of Eisav (Esau) is not our path. Rav Dessler, in the final years of his life, warned that some of us are inadvertently nurturing the spirit of Eisav (Esau). The question remains: what is our role in this nurturing as individuals? How much of our behavior is driven by conscious choices, and how much is a result of conditioning over generations? Rav Dessler asserts that most people are followers, a notion few wish to accept. We all believe our worldviews and decision-making tools are independently developed, while others are propagandized and brainwashed. Yet, I find Rav Dessler's perspective to be profoundly accurate. This gives me hope, as our sages unanimously agree that no matter how far we stray, a root of truth remains, ready to nurture the growth of truth once more

L'Chaim

                                                                   B"H

I will not finish this essay today, as it is a complex topic that is difficult to convey for many reasons. One major reason is my expectation of resistance to the idea that was once fundamental to the majority of our people—the value of human life, the existence of each individual.

Today is a significant day on my personal calendar. For many years, I have been deeply involved with the topic of Noah’s Mabul (Flood). B"H, I have spent extensive time conducting geological research in the western deserts, mountain trails, and Alaskan glaciers. My personal discoveries on this subject are valuable, and I believe, with further development by specialists, they may alter some scientific perspectives.

Thus, the Mabul has become very personal to me. I don’t know anyone else in the Orthodox world with comparable work in this area. However, in this essay, I will not focus on the “natural” aspects of the Mabul but will instead explore the moral reason behind this catastrophic event and the extinction that followed.

Today marks the second day of Chanukah, the 25th of Kislev, the anniversary of the last day of the 40 days of unprecedented rain during the Mabul. The Torah tells us:

"וַיֹּ֨אמֶר אֱלֹהִ֜ים לְנֹ֗חַ קֵ֤ץ כׇּל־בָּשָׂר֙ בָּ֣א לְפָנַ֔י כִּֽי־מָלְאָ֥ה הָאָ֛רֶץ חָמָ֖ס מִפְּנֵיהֶ֑ם וְהִנְנִ֥י מַשְׁחִיתָ֖ם אֶת־הָאָֽרֶץ׃
"The end of all flesh has come before me, for the earth is filled with violence because of them; and I will destroy them from the earth."

Rav Dessler notes that Onkelos translates the word חָמָס (violence) as "snatching, grasping, seizing." In Rav Dessler's words, it is the "power of taking." This could be likened to legislation that allows a self-appointed “superior” class to direct the fruits of the working class into their own pockets and stock portfolios. However, this essay is not about the injustices of capitalism. Rather, we will explore why taking something that rightfully belongs to another is a form of killing.

In our reality, we operate on the principle of Midah Keneged Midah—measure for measure. The annihilation of humanity in the Mabul would be a disproportionate consequence (punishment) if taking material advantage from the underprivileged were not considered a form of taking someone's life.

Our work, the products of our hands, express our being. The fruits of our labor are an extension of ourselves. This is why Halachic principles of monetary reparations exist, even for injuries or death. In my previous essay, I discussed the prohibition against terminating human life. Outside of Halacha, it is completely prohibited. For centuries, this framework has not been part of our immediate reality, but it remains fundamental. For those who prefer simplicity—killing is prohibited, both for Jews and non-Jews.

Jewish commentators explain that even harsh behavior, language, or public shaming can be considered a form of killing. For more on this, see my essay on the Prohibition of Killing.

As we have already established, any form of stealing can also be seen as a form of taking a person's life. Sometimes, the theft is literal—taking someone's possessions can lead to their literal death. Denying justice or failing to provide necessary sustenance to someone unable to care for themselves is also a form of killing.

This point should not need further explanation. However, to illustrate it: if you were to deny a person a transplant—such as a heart—you would be participating in their death. If you think that is not so, it may be that you need such a transplant. A pig’s heart would suffice, at least it's flesh.

But why? Why is human life of such superior value?

Because G-d says so.

For some, this might be enough, but it has been over 4,100 years since G-d proclaimed to mankind the prohibition against killing. And yet, not only does mankind fail to heed this divine command, but we also allow psychopathic leaders to emerge—leaders who devalue human life. Worse still, entire economies thrive by manufacturing and selling tools of destruction and death.

Governments that claim to operate "by the people, for the people" sometimes prove to be little more than merchants of death, publicly boasting of their success in selling arms mass-produced by private companies. In many cases, these weapons are funded by the taxes of ordinary citizens.

The same individuals who campaign for our votes every few years to legitimize their positions—who, once elected, begin searching for new cash flows to fund their next bids—are complicit in the perpetuation of violence. Meanwhile, entire societies, at best, remain indifferent or, at worst, actively support the killing that happens around them.

"I can’t do anything, I’m too small." This cry of helplessness is familiar to me. But others say, "It’s war." In other words, wholesale killing somehow makes it more acceptable than individual killing. A poet might say, "When fighting the Devil, killing is good." But this reasoning fails to recognize the value of each individual life.

We are not all total monsters. There are examples where concern is expressed over the psychological toll of mass killing—where soldiers suffer from the trauma of killing babies. Himmler, Y-SH, had to personally address the Einsatzgruppen, explaining why they had to kill Jewish children—children who, he claimed, would grow up to oppress them. In other wars, soldiers were provided with means to release the psychological tension created by the violence they inflicted in form of female cuspidors. Some others, in recent massacres, became so affected by their actions that they turned to vegetarianism, unable to stomach the "human meat" they had been forced to create under the tracks of their tanks and bulldozers.

This is the world we live in.

I will not delve further into these examples, as I know the questions that will arise: What about the Nazis? What about the Communist regimes? What about those who claim to fight "for a greater cause"? Yes, these questions carry weight. But we will leave them for another discussion.

Here, I want to emphasize why the value of human life is superior to all else in this reality, and why its termination can only be justified under extraordinary circumstances. Historically, the Court of Law (Bais Din) with proper smicha (authority) was part of this reality and life could be ended only by the decision of Bais Din.

Why is human life of such value?

G-d created man and the universe as His home, to bestow love and give. There was no necessity for creation, but there was a possibility, as Rav Dessler explains. The essential aspect of man’s creation was free will—a gift that reflects the Creator’s own freedom.

There is, of course, a profound difference between the free will of the Omnipotent Creator and the limited, confused will of man. Nevertheless, Adam knew the truth at the beginning, and his potential for error was a choice of illusion. With his choice, humanity descended into confusion, where the possibility of a wrongdoing emerged.

Humanity could have been annihilated at that point, but the Creator offered another path—a path to rectify the relationship with Him. By rejecting wrong and choosing doing right, mankind could find the path to truth, as Ramchal writes in Derech Hashem.

The story of mankind has not been a simple one. After 1,656 years, the world had to be "remodeled," and humanity was given a new start. The emergence of Avraham marked a new possibility—one that began to shape a community of ethical monotheists. But it was only his seed who eventually became the spiritual leaders of humanity. But even though this journey was not about them alone, it was always about all of mankind.

Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch explains that humanity's plural nature, as represented by the 70 nations, brings collective characteristics that contribute to the advancement of human civilization. Rav Dessler discusses the beauty and necessity of every individual’s presence. The Ramchal in Derech Hashem explains the path humanity must take to regain moral awareness of the Creator.

Three times a day, we say the prayer "Aleinu." If your Hebrew is insufficient, please refer to a translation. This prayer has always been about mankind and us humbly serving humanity by shining the light on the path to truth. This is what makes us Am HaNivchar.

Without a doubt, leaders have a different level of spiritual achievement than those who are led. But each individual builds their own level of spiritual accomplishment. Every person is born into this world with a set of moral choices. This is the reason for our existence. (Derech Hashem, Mivtach mi Eliayhu)

Taking away that life—whether through murder, suicide, kidnapping, enslavement, abuse, conquer, control, mental control, lies, manipulation, propaganda or any other means—cuts off or limits a person’s free will. These are the "kley hamas - tools of violence," tools and domain of Eisav.

This is only a short list of tools interfering with the goal of Creator of making every human being in His image, as explained above. Doing, participating or supporting any of those actions makes us immediately enemies of G-d.

Now.

Supporting life, freedom, the dignity of every individual, the value of every individual, restraining from turning human being into tools of pleasure or tools in general, standing always for truth is our most important religious act. These are the principles of Yaakov. If any other so-called religious acts compromise these principles, we are serving our ego, not G-d. In such cases, we are consuming proverbial opium to calm our conscience. We may be part of religion, but we have no true relationship with G-d. That relationship can only be developed by extending love to our fellow human beings, as both Buber and Rav Dessler have taught.

If the cost of our service to G-d involves committing a crime against any human—whether directly or indirectly—we must carefully examine our paths. The same holds true if we are using others as mere tools for our religious experience; in that case, our actions are motivated by self-interest, not by a true relationship with G-d or a genuine concern for our fellow man.

None of the ideas presented in this essay are my own. They are the result of my deep engagement with the writings of Jewish prophets and sages, B’H.

To those who may point out that this essay does not align with Halachah, particularly in terms of its high moral standards, I say this: Without a doubt, we are all required to follow the Halachic framework. However, we must also understand that the purpose of Halachah is not simply to limit us, but to provide a platform that allows us to rise and achieve greater moral and spiritual heights.

Our adherence to Halachah shapes us as a nation, and following its Hashkafah (philosophical principles) makes us a holy people.