RSS
An IDF Soldier’s Wisdom, and the Jewish Meaning of Belonging
Israel Defense Forces soldier Hillel Nehemiah Ofen died during training near the central city of Elad, Aug. 14, 2023. Photo: Screenshot
The modern thinker and social philosopher Brené Brown writes: “True belonging doesn’t require you to change who you are; it requires you to be who you are.” It’s a powerful idea — that real belonging isn’t about fitting in; it’s about being seen, accepted, and valued for exactly who you are.
In a world where we’re constantly encouraged to edit ourselves, curate our lives, and conform to expectations, this kind of authentic connection can feel rare — even revolutionary.
I’ve spent the last few days haunted by a simple, handwritten note. It wasn’t particularly long and didn’t come from a famous philosopher or great thinker. But it carried more meaning than a hundred speeches ever could.
It came from the backpack of Hillel Nehemiah Ofen, a 20-year-old IDF soldier who tragically collapsed and died during a training exercise last week. The day after Hillel’s funeral, Israeli journalist and author Tsur Ehrlich shared a remarkable discovery on social media: a handwritten note found in Hillel’s backpack.
“This note,” Ehrlich wrote on Facebook, “belongs in the pocket of every Jew. It’s a profound meditation on identity, on life, on what it means to be part of something bigger than yourself. In the midst of a kind of social heatstroke that’s overtaken us, Hillel’s words are like a cool drink of water — reviving, grounding, and deeply human.”
The note began with two powerful words: “Ani Shayach!”— “I belong.”
And it didn’t stop there. Hillel expanded the thought with breathtaking simplicity: “I belong — to my family, to my people, to the land of Israel. I belong to love. I belong to fear. I belong to hope and to disappointment. I belong to joy and to pain. I belong to this moment.”
Who writes like that? It’s profound. The thoughtful words of a soldier in the prime of life, reflecting on his future, somehow channel something timeless — even eternal.
In a world increasingly obsessed with individualism, self-branding, and curating flawless images for public consumption, here was a young man who had peeled all of that away. No filters. No hashtags. Just a raw, honest declaration of connection — to people, to place, to purpose.
And that’s when it struck me: this wasn’t just a private reflection scribbled by a young man on the cusp of adulthood. It was a sacred manifesto — reminding himself, and all of us, that real strength doesn’t come from standing apart. It comes from showing up. For each other. For our communities. For something greater than ourselves.
And as fate (or providence) would have it, this week’s Torah portion, Pekudei, makes precisely that point — in a different register, but no less powerful. Let me explain.
Pekudei is the final portion in the Book of Exodus — and let’s be honest, it’s the part many people skim or skip altogether. It’s filled with endless inventories of materials used in the Mishkan, the portable sanctuary the Israelites built in the wilderness. Gold clasps, silver sockets, blue and purple yarn, lists of beams and curtains — it reads like divine DIY instructions for a holy IKEA project.
But buried in all that detail is something deeply profound. Because the Mishkan wasn’t just a mobile synagogue — it was a collective creation, a spiritual home that every Jew had a stake in.
The wood was donated. The fabrics were hand-woven by members of the community. The silver came from the half-shekel that everyone contributed — rich or poor, no exceptions. Every person was part of it. Every soul was counted. Every Jew belonged.
And here’s the point: God doesn’t need a house. Let’s be honest — the Mishkan wasn’t for Him. It was for them. The people needed it. They needed a place that declared: We are here. We matter. We belong.
Just like Hillel Nehemiah Ofen. His quiet note, tucked into a backpack, was his own small contribution to the broader Mishkan — a deeply personal acknowledgment of his role in his family, his people, and his country. And in making that contribution, he uncovered something essential: “I belong.”
Hillel wrote it without fanfare, without drama — just truth. In doing so, he echoed Pekudei’s deeper message: that belonging doesn’t just happen. It’s not accidental. It’s something we must build and recognize — with care, with intention, thread by thread, soul by soul.
And maybe that’s what we’ve started to forget in our modern world. We’ve built towers of success, of status, of innovation. But somewhere along the way, we’ve stopped noticing the granular, sacred details — the threads and clasps that bind us to one another.
The Mishkan wasn’t about the grandeur of the finished product. It was about the togetherness, the humility, and the shared identity embedded in every piece. It was a space where everyone mattered. A space where everyone belonged.
Hillel saw that — and with his passing, he gave us that message. His note, written for himself, wasn’t just about himself. It was a blueprint, made up of feelings and fears and hopes — with space in it for everyone. It included not only love and pride, but also doubt, pain, and vulnerability. He understood what it meant to be whole and part of something holy.
And here’s the deeper truth: belonging isn’t simply a warm, fuzzy feeling. It’s an obligation. It’s on each of us to make space for others, to invite them in, to say: You are part of this, just like I’m part of this. You matter. You are not alone.
That’s what the Mishkan did. That’s what Hillel’s note does. And that’s what we must do.
So, here’s a thought for this Shabbat, as we read Pekudei and close out Sefer Shemot: Let’s ask ourselves — where is my Mishkan? What am I building that brings people in? That helps others feel seen, valued, and connected enough to say, “I belong,” as Hillel did so simply and so powerfully. “I belong — to my family, to my community, to my people, to this moment.”
We need to remember that we are all architects of belonging. Every kind word, every act of generosity, every moment of presence — these are the silver sockets and golden threads of a modern-day Mishkan.
May we merit to build it with the same love, clarity, and quiet strength that Hillel carried in his heart. And may we all one day look around — at our homes, our communities, our people — and say, in unison and without hesitation: “Ani Shayach.” I belong.
The author is a rabbi in Beverly Hills, California.
The post An IDF Soldier’s Wisdom, and the Jewish Meaning of Belonging first appeared on Algemeiner.com.
RSS
Striking Hamas Leaders in Qatar Is 100% Legal Under International Law
Vehicles stop at a red traffic light, a day after an Israeli attack on Hamas leaders, in Doha, Qatar, Sept. 10, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Ibraheem Abu Mustafa
Here are just a few of the absurd reactions from world leaders in the wake of Israel’s stunning strike on Hamas leadership in Doha, Qatar, last week:
- A “blatant violation of international law.”
- A “violation of sovereignty.”
- A “flagrant breach of international law.”
France, Spain, the UK, the Qataris themselves, and others have joined in the hysterics.
Yet all these sloganizing leaders have one thing in common: an astonishing and total ignorance of actual, international law.
In future articles, I will dive into the far reaching implications and consequences of this stunning operation, but for now, here’s a quick review of international law.
- Qatar is not technically at war with Israel, therefore the country could be considered a “neutral power” under the Hague Convention V and thus immune from attack.
- However, under articles 2, 3 and 4 of Hague Convention V, a “neutral power” may not allow anyone on its territory to direct combat operations, run command and control centers, or even to communicate electronically with combatants.
- For years, the Hamas leadership has been carrying out exactly those prohibited acts from within Qatar — with sustained and integral Qatari support. In other words, Qatar has been violating international law for years — before, during, and after the October 7 massacre.
- Hamas is the internationally-designated terror organization that carried out the October 7 massacre of Israelis in 2023, and continues holding Israeli hostages in Gaza to this day. Though the Hamas leadership in Qatar claims the moniker “political wing,” it is consistently involved in directing combat operations against Israel.
- Qatar cannot claim to be a “neutral power” under the Hague Conventions, because it provides sustained and integral support for Hamas — which aids Hamas combat operations against Israel — from Qatari soil.
- Furthermore, Israel has an inviolate right to self defense under Article 51 of the United Nations Charter, and Hamas may not undermine that right simply by directing its combat operations from inside a third-party country.
In summary: Qatar has been providing sustained and integral support for Hamas combat operations — from Qatari soil — in violation of The Hague conventions.
These acts give Israel the inviolate right, under both the Hague Conventions and the UN Charter’s Article 51, to defend itself and its citizens by targeting Hamas leadership inside Qatar.
Daniel Pomerantz is the CEO of RealityCheck, an organization dedicated to deepening public conversation through robust research studies and public speaking. He has been a lawyer for more than 25 years.
RSS
No, Mahmoud Abbas Did Not Condemn Jerusalem Terror Attack
People inspect a bus with bullet holes at the scene where a shooting terrorist attack took place at the outskirts of Jerusalem, Sept. 8, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Ammar Awad
Last week, terrorists opened fire in Jerusalem, murdering six and injuring 12 innocent Israelis.
Palestinian Authority (PA) leader Mahmoud Abbas — the man the international community insists is a “peace partner” — then put out a statement that was labeled by much of the international media as a condemnation. In reality, it was anything but.
Abbas never once mentioned the terror attack. He never referred to the murders, never acknowledged the victims, and never expressed a word of sympathy for their families. His statement spoke in vague terms about rejecting “any targeting of Palestinian and Israeli civilians,” a formula carefully crafted to sound balanced while deliberately blurring the reality that it was Palestinians who carried out the terror attack, and Israelis who were its victims.
Worse still, 98% of Abbas’ statement was condemnation of Israel, the “occupation,” “genocide,” and “colonist terrorism.” Instead of using the attack to speak out against Palestinian terror, Abbas used it to criticize Israel without even actually mentioning the attack, and while portraying Palestinians as the victims.
Abbas’ remark is not a condemnation of terrorism. It is a cover-up. He is once again confirming the PA’s ideology that sees Palestinian attacks against Israeli civilians as justified.
The emptiness of Abbas’s words becomes glaring when compared to the response of the United Arab Emirates.
The UAE condemned the “terrorist shooting incident … in the strongest terms,” offered condolences to the victims and their families, and wished a speedy recovery to the wounded.
The UAE’s statement was clear, moral, and human. Abbas’ was political and self-serving, designed to enable gullible Westerners to delude themselves that Abbas was actually condemning terrorism. The UAE and Abbas’ statements follow. The difference speaks volumes.
| UAE condemnation of terror | Mahmoud Abbas’ sham |
| “The United Arab Emirates has condemned in the strongest terms the terrorist shooting incident which occurred near Jerusalem, and resulted in a number of deaths and injuries.
In a statement, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MoFA) reaffirmed the UAE’s strong condemnation of these terrorist acts and its permanent rejection of all forms of violence and terrorism aimed at undermining security and stability. The Ministry expressed its sincere condolences and sympathy to the families of the victims, and to the State of Israel and its people, as well as its wishes for a speedy recovery for all the injured.” [United Arab Emirates Ministry of Foreign Affairs, website, September 8, 2025] |
“The Palestinian Presidency reiterated its firm stance rejecting and condemning any targeting of Palestinian and Israel civilians, and denouced all forms of violence and terrorism, regardless of their source.
The Presidency stressed that security and stability in the region cannot be achieved without ending the occupation, halting acts of genocide in the Gaza Strip, and stopping colonist terrorism across the West Bank, including occupied Jerusalem. It emphasized the Palestinian people’s attainment of their legitimate rights to an independent and sovereign state with East Jerusalem as its capital, and the achievement of security and peace for all, is what wil end the cycle of violence in the region. This came in the wake of today’s events in occupied Jerusalem.” [WAFA, official PA news agency, September 8, 2025] |
Ephraim D. Tepler is a contributor to Palestinian Media Watch (PMW). Itamar Marcus is the Founder and Director of PMW, where a version of this article first appeared.
RSS
Carrying Charlie Kirk’s Torch: Why the West Must Not Retreat
A memorial is held for Charlie Kirk, who was shot and killed in Utah, at the Turning Point USA headquarters in Phoenix, Arizona, US, Sept. 10, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Caitlin O’Hara
Charlie Kirk’s sudden death leaves more than grief; it leaves a void in a moment of profound civilizational danger. He was not just a political organizer or cultural commentator. He was a voice that gave the next generation permission to reject the lies of relativism, to reclaim confidence in the West, and to stand against the forces — both ideological and violent — that seek to dismantle it. To honor his life means refusing to let that mission fade.
Kirk understood that the greatest threats to freedom were not hidden in obscure policy debates, but in the cultural and spiritual health of the West. He saw that when a society abandons faith, mocks tradition, and treats national identity as a shameful relic, it becomes easy prey for movements that thrive on weakness and self-doubt. His genius was to frame this not as nostalgia, but as survival.
For him, defending family, faith, and moral order was not a luxury — it was the only path by which free societies could endure.
One challenge Kirk named very clearly was the rise of radical Islamism and terrorism. He warned that this was not merely a foreign problem, but an internal one. Radical ideologies, cloaked in the language of grievance, have found fertile ground in Western cities, universities, and political discourse. Under the cover of tolerance, they have grown bolder. Under the silence of elites, they have become entrenched. Kirk refused to bend to the false equivalence that excuses extremism as cultural difference. He understood that those who despise freedom should not be empowered to weaponize it.
His critics often called him polarizing, but what they truly feared was his clarity. He reminded audiences that not all values are equal, not all ideas are harmless, and not every ideology deserves space in a free society. In a climate where cowardice is praised as moderation, his directness was seen as dangerous. But the true danger lies in the refusal to speak plainly about the threats that face us. Civilizations do not collapse overnight; they are eroded when their defenders lose the courage to distinguish between what is worth preserving and what must be rejected.
Kirk never lost that courage. He confronted progressive elites who undermined confidence in the West from within, and he confronted radical Islamist sympathizers who justified violence against it from without. He saw that both positions, though different in form, worked toward the same end: a weakening of Western resolve, an erosion of shared identity, and the creation of a generation uncertain of its own inheritance. His refusal to allow that message to go unchallenged gave hope to millions of young people who might otherwise have drifted into cynicism or despair.
Now his death presents a stark choice. The forces he warned against are not pausing to mourn. They are pressing forward, eager to fill the space that was already under siege. If his legacy is not actively continued, it will not simply fade — it will be replaced by movements hostile to everything he fought to defend. To preserve his mission, the West must double down on the truths he carried: that strength is not arrogance, that tradition is not oppression, and that freedom without moral order is an illusion that collapses into chaos.
The stakes are high. If these principles are allowed to wither, we risk a generation unmoored from history, unprepared for the battles ahead, and unwilling to confront the ideological threats at our doorstep. But if Kirk’s legacy is embraced and advanced, his death will be the beginning of a renewal.
The West cannot retreat. It cannot afford the luxury of silence or the temptation of compromise with those who seek its undoing. The path forward requires the clarity and courage that Charlie Kirk embodied. To carry his torch is not simply to honor his memory. It is to safeguard the survival of the civilization he loved and defended. The question is not whether we should continue his work. The question is whether we can endure if we do not.
Amine Ayoub, a fellow at the Middle East Forum, is a policy analyst and writer based in Morocco. Follow him on X: @amineayoubx