The Price of Misalignment: Memory, War, and the Illusion of Strength
- WireNews

- 3 hours ago
- 4 min read
by Ram ben Ze’ev

Today, Israel stands still.
At the sound of the siren, the nation pauses in collective remembrance for those who were killed—soldiers of the Israel Defense Forces whose lives ended in battle. The numbers are heavy: 25,644 since 1860, leaving behind tens of thousands of bereaved families. Yet numbers, as vast as they are, do not capture truth. Words do.
We say “fallen soldiers,” as though they stumbled. But they did not fall. They were killed. They are dead. Their lives were taken in war—some in defence of the Jewish people, others in conflicts whose purpose demands deeper examination.
Memory, if it is honest, must lead to reflection.
There is no question that our enemies exist. This is not a modern invention. It is written clearly in the Torah: עשו שונא את יעקב (Esav soneh et Yaakov – Esau hates Jacob). The hatred directed toward the Jewish people did not begin in our generation, nor will it end through diplomacy alone. On 7 October 2023, that hatred was laid bare in its most brutal form. Over 1,200 innocent Israelis were murdered. Women violated. Elderly men and women, including survivors of the Shoah, slaughtered. Families taken hostage. Bodies used as bargaining tools.
This is evil. It must be named as such.
And yet, even with this truth, we are commanded to look inward.
The Torah does not permit us to become like our enemies. It commands us to defend, not to avenge in moments of convenience. מלחמה (milchamah – war) in Torah is not a tool of political timing or strategic posturing; it is a necessity only when forced upon us. We are not permitted to store grievance, wait for calm, and then initiate destruction under the banner of pre-emption, especially when such actions lead to the deaths of those who did not raise a hand against us.
When a war is chosen rather than compelled, it demands justification not only before the nations, but before G-D.
We were told that Iran’s nuclear capability had been “obliterated.” Then, months later, war was launched again under the claim of imminent threat. Civilians died. Children died.
Innocent people, far removed from decision-making power, paid the price. This is not a question of strategy—it is a question of alignment.
Because at the same time, within our own society, we witness a different kind of departure.
A nation called to be קדוש (kadosh – holy) now prepares to host one of the largest public celebrations of behaviour the Torah explicitly forbids. Not quietly. Not reluctantly. But proudly, publicly, and with state-level acceptance. A “Pride City” built in the desert, where once our identity was forged through dependence on G-D, now transformed into a place of spectacle and indulgence.
This is not incidental. It is connected.
In 2023, at the Supernova Sukkot Gathering near Kibbutz Re’im, thousands gathered in the desert to celebrate freedom, expression, and a rejection of traditional boundaries. It was there that over 370 people were murdered in one of the most horrific attacks in our history.
No one would suggest they deserved such a fate. G-D forbid. But the setting itself raises a question: when a people detach from the framework that defines them, what fills the void?
The Torah is not merely a book of laws. It is the condition for our protection.
We are told explicitly: if we walk in His statutes, He will grant peace in the land. This is not poetry. It is a contract. Protection is not automatic. It is not guaranteed by military strength, nor by alliances with powerful nations. It is tied to our conduct.
When a society seeks pride not in being Jewish, not in תורה, not in קדושה, but in that which the Torah prohibits, it signals a shift from Divine identity to self-defined identity. And when that shift becomes public policy, it moves from individual failing to national direction.
So we return to today.
We stand still. We remember. We mourn.
But mourning without introspection is incomplete.
How many of these deaths were truly necessary? How many were the result of unavoidable defence, and how many emerged from decisions made in moments where restraint could have prevailed? And deeper still—how much of this “defence” would be required if we were fully aligned with the will of G-D?
This is not a question of blame. It is a question of responsibility.
A Jewish state cannot rely solely on כוח (koach – power) while neglecting the source of its existence. The illusion of strength is that it appears self-sufficient. But history—and Torah—teach the opposite. Our survival has never depended on numbers, weapons, or alliances alone. It has depended on alignment.
The siren fades. Life resumes.
But the question remains: Do we wish to be protected, or merely defended?
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Bill White (Ram ben Ze'ev) is CEO of WireNews Limited, Mayside Partners Limited, MEADHANAN Agency, Kestrel Assets Limited, SpudsToGo Limited and Executive Director of Hebrew Synagogue



