A Moral, Tactical, and Symbolic Victory

Rabbi Ron Shulman


Shabbat Emor 5771

President Obama is right not to release the photos of a dead Osama bin Laden.  Such a display is beneath American dignity, especially in the context of defeating terror. As he said, “That’s not who we are. We don’t trot out this stuff as trophies.”

It was interesting to hear Israel’s response to the president’s announcement. Israeli Ambassador to the United States Michael Oren said that Israel never releases such photographs. They only serve to exacerbate the situation as they diminish the values we seek to preserve.

Last Sunday evening as we were hearing the startling good news of Osama bin Laden’s demise, and of the courageous, highly risky undertaking of the Navy Seals, following the dedicated efforts of the Intelligence community, we saw on television crowds gathering outside of the White House, in Times Square, and eventually at Ground Zero.

These were spontaneous, emotional responses. After almost ten years, we all feel a sense of relief and justice. Osama bin Laden’s death is a moral, tactical, and symbolic victory. We don’t know yet what it means for the larger war we wage, but this battle is won.

During the news coverage, Robin and I were talking long distance with our two daughters. We shared a sense of this historical moment unfolding. Ten years ago, on September 11, 2001 we were all much younger. Our daughters, like many of your children and grandchildren, were teenagers back then. Our Bat Mitzvah today was only 3.

Our children have grown up during the last decade in a world less civil and more disturbing. Their consciousness is filled with terror alerts, airport and building security, the sudden news of terror plots foiled or carried out, the longest and, arguably, the most complicated war in American history. And, all of this against the background of an event they understand more or less, and remember more or less.

I didn’t pass by a security guard to enter the synagogue or school in which I grew up. I used to meet friends and relatives at the airport gate as they walked right off the plane. I didn’t learn about a Department of Homeland Security when I studied American government in school.

No. None of us grew up during easy times. Every era and every generation face their challenges and difficulties. Still, for the generation of young adults and others who were happily gathering outside of the White House and elsewhere last Sunday night this was patriotic release and relief. It was also an act of looking forward to living in a more civil and sane society. Osama bin Laden was not only the symbol of so much that’s wrong. He was also the symbol of so much that’s bad. His defeat, our victory, gives hope to what can be better and good.

The Talmud boldly declares, “When the wicked perish from the world, good comes to the world,” quoting the Biblical Proverb, “When the wicked perish, there are shouts of joy.” I understand that joy. I feel it. These are the visceral reactions preceding more thoughtful analysis.

For many, that thoughtfulness followed pretty quickly. On Sunday May 1st, which is the day Hitler was declared dead in 1945, and on Monday, which was Yom HaShoah, Holocaust Remembrance Day, many of us were discussing the propriety of Sunday night’s celebrations.

This week no one was celebrating the end of a war. It isn’t VE Day, although today and tomorrow are VE Day, the 66th anniversary of the end of World War II in Europe. In England, more than one million people celebrated in the streets to mark the end of that part of the war. In the United States, there were massive street celebrations in many cities, even as President Truman dedicated the victory to the memory of President Roosevelt by keeping flags at half-mast.

This past Monday, my 23-year-old daughter Felicia wrote to me. “Something has been bugging me since last night. I understand it, and I'm not surprised by it. We had to get him and I’m glad we did. I just feel like the patriotic jubilation and celebration at getting Osama is the wrong sentiment. This isn’t the end of a war. Justice for 9/11 isn't possible. And even if justice were an eye for an eye, which I don’t think it is, this was more like an eyelash for an eye.”

Ours is not a unique conversation. It’s been taking place all week in personal chats and in the media. This is part of our national dialogue right now. It is also not a new conversation. It actually plays out in Jewish tradition. In addition to shouts of joy, Proverbs demands, “If your enemy falls, do not exult, unless the Lord see it and be displeased.” This feels like our more customary instinct.

Many of you are familiar with the Midrash in which God rebukes the angels for rejoicing when the Egyptian army was caught in the receding waters after the splitting of the sea. “My children drown in the sea, and you utter song before Me?” We spilled wine from our cups as we recited the Ten Plagues to reflect this idea at our recent Passover Sedarim.

“So,” ask the rabbis, “does the Holy One, blessed be God, rejoice over the downfall of the wicked?” No, comes the answer. “The Holy One, blessed be God, does not rejoice at the downfall of the wicked.” Rabbi Yosi ben Hanina extends the comment, however. “God does not rejoice. God causes others to rejoice.”

Notice this. In the Midrash, God rebukes the angels for rejoicing, not the Israelites. The ideal is always present in the Divine. In the real world, people react to the removal of ominous threats.

In the New York Times, social psychologist Tom Pyszczynski called it “Pure existential release. Whether or not the killing makes any difference in the effectiveness of Al Qaeda hardly matters; defeating an enemy who threatens your worldview, the very values you believe are most protective, is the quickest way to calm existential anxiety.”

So, beyond the obvious, that it is good and just, what should be our response to the death of Osama bin Laden? If we celebrate too much, we remind ourselves of our enemies, those who rejoiced and danced as the Towers burned on 9/11. Yet, if we don’t acknowledge the defeat of the evil confronting us, we risk becoming accustomed to it.

Looking back over the past week, I think we’ve walked that line pretty well carrying our ideals into the real world. Sunday night’s celebrations gave way to a week of more serious interest, information, and reflection. On Monday, I thought I might speak out against inappropriate public expressions marking bin Laden’s death. By today, I haven’t seen any to criticize.

Well, there was one. It was in the Arab village of Silwan, across from the Old City of Jerusalem. There, rioters protested the attack on Osama bin Laden, echoing a statement that came out of Gaza. As the two Palestinian factions declared their political reunion this week, Hamas, the terror organization sworn to Israel’s destruction declared, “We condemn the assassination and the killing of an Arab holy warrior.”

This obscenity reinforces our need to stand with Israel against ideologies of hate and those who promote them as we will joyously celebrate Israel’s 63rd year of independence on Tuesday. This celebration is worthy of us as a reflection of our best values.

Osama bin Laden’s end and the Arab spring’s beginning provide Israel with both opportunity and concern. For the moment, we gratefully pause to rejoice in the miracle of Israel’s history and the meaning of Israel’s destiny.

This week’s events do two things. They provide us with a triumph, a sense of momentary relief and hope for tomorrow. They also remind us what we learned so tragically ten years ago. America, Israel, and the whole of the civilized world have extremist enemies who do not cherish human dignity and decency, which is why we must. This week proves that they may be able to inflict tragic pain, but they cannot, they will not, win.

Our moral, tactical, and symbolic victory is in this very discussion. We challenge ourselves to determine what is the right way to react. We remind ourselves to cherish the promise and potential of justice and goodness. We remember to take responsibility for one another. We help our children to know a safer, saner world.

These are the best ways to honor the memories of those 3,000 lost souls and the legacy of these past ten years since September 11th. For though we are no longer naïve about the world we live in, we are also no longer resigned to living in a world of terror.

© 2011 Rabbi Ronald J. Shulman

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