# 180 / Editorial

Dear readers,

The last week of our summer break is upon us, and we’ll be resuming our usual rhythm of publications with the next issue. However, the editorial team decided at its back-to-school meeting that it needed to express its views on current events in Israel. The discovery of the summary execution of six hostages by Hamas has inflamed the political situation there, leading to a massive mobilization of society against the government’s conduct of the war. In “Israel held hostage”, we look back at what is at stake for Israel at this moment, both as a traumatic repetition of the event that opened the sequence in which it has found itself locked for the past eleven months, and as an injunction to finally give itself the means to get out of it.

Since a return from summer and the soon to be arriving new Jewish year bring a degree of introspection and reflection with it, our latest summer feature looks at the complexity of Jewishness that can be found all around – whether through Ivan Segré’s examination of the bipolarity of Jewish identity, Mona El Khoury’s fiction piece on grappling with history and our past, Ruben Honigmann’s recurring confrontation with amazement at hostility, an analysis of the get (Jewish traditional divorce) and legal pluralism by Astrid von Busekist or Noémie Issan-Benchimol’s analysis of what Jewish thought has to say about hostage redemption, this week’s feature provides a plethora of food for thought and maybe even some answers for ourselves.

The discovery of the bodies of the six hostages killed by Hamas, as the IDF approached the hideout where they were being held, has a profoundly contradictory meaning.
On the one hand, it shows the kind of enemy Israel is actually fighting: a movement whose aim is to murder Jews, one by one and as many as possible…

Should a Jew who transgresses the Shabbat without being aware of his existence atone for it? Starting from the problem of a self-conscious Jewishness, Ivan Segré examines the bipolarity of Jewish identity, between the facticity of genealogical inscription and the radicality of subjective affirmation. In so doing, he sheds light on the Jewish articulation between individual and collective emancipation: it was not because he knew he was Jewish that Moses decided to leave Pharaoh’s house, but in doing so, he already was…

He said, “You remind me of someone.” “But you don’t know me,” she snapped, amused. “I just mean your face,” he said. “Ah! Well then maybe we’ve met before.” “That’s impossible,” he said. “The person you look like died before I was born.” The sentence fell on both of them like lead rain. As they walked up Cambridge’s main artery, now silent, she considered how to respond to this—to what seemed, then, like pretty much the worst seduction enterprise imaginable. She remained speechless. “She was my grandmother,” he added quickly. “She died in Auschwitz.”

“One thing never ceases to amaze me about Jews—their ability to marvel at the hostility directed against them. With every antisemitic murder, attack, massacre, or pogrom, we’re stunned. We are offended by the lack of empathy of our usual affable greengrocer; we are outraged by the reaction of the UN Secretary-General; we cannot stand the semantic contortions of Jean-Luc Mélenchon, worthy of the best Yeshiva students; we are revolted by the radical loneliness of the persecuted Jewish people. We rub our eyes every time, as we did the first day when we saw Harvard daddy’s boys denouncing the “genocide underway in Gaza” or the Queers for Palestine tearing down posters of Israeli hostages. But why are we surprised?”

The get, the centrepiece of traditional divorce, is a particularly sensitive legal act which today seems to be the focus of the greatest tension between civil law and Jewish law. Is it a place of confrontation? Astrid von Busekist sees it more as a place where a legal pluralism is formed, capable of honouring freedom of religious practice while bending it towards recognition of the general principle of equality for all.

How should we view the divide between those in Israel who put the destruction of Hamas before any consideration of the hostages’ fate, and those who, on the contrary, are ready to negotiate their rescue at any price? In this text, Noémie Issan-Benchimol analyzes the coordinates of the debate in terms of cultural and religious ethos. While Jewish tradition sees hostage redeeming as a communal obligation, a significant part of religious Zionism is reviving a Roman ethos of civic honor, which scorns weakness and territorializes fraternity. Can fraternity, specific to the diaspora, continue to inform the politics of a state?

With the support of:

Thanks to the Paris office of the Heinrich Böll Foundation for their cooperation in the design of the magazine’s website.