From Kishinev to October 7 and beyond
The hatred and savagery prompted the young poet Chaim Nachman Bialik, later to become known as Israel’s national poet, to write his angry poem, B’ir Hahareigah, In the City of Slaughter, a call to arms for Jews to rise up and become active defenders of our people. If we had our own state and army, went the cry, this would not have happened. Because we are stateless we are victims. So thought Bialik and his acolytes: We must roll up our sleeves and learn to fight. Enough with passivity and meekness; enough with pale- faced yeshivah bochurim poring over ancient texts. (And for some, enough with Torah and mitzvos.) It is time for us to flex our muscles and create a “new Jew”: tough, muscular, and fearless. Then and only then will the goyim have respect for us.
It was Bialik’s poem and the agitation of those who emulated him which were the catalysts for the beginnings of the Zionist movement — whose stated goal was to return to our ancient homeland, reestablish our people as a nation among nations, and thus to wipe out Jew-hatred.
Sadly, the history of 20th century anti-Semitism demonstrated that this was nothing more than a pipe dream. Pogrom followed pogrom, the authorities did nothing to protect their Jewish citizens, and in Chevron in 1929 there was further wanton slaughter of innocent Jews studying in a yeshivah.
The demands for a Jewish state as a solution grew louder: If we had our own land, this would not have happened.
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