An aerial view shows the bodies of victims of an attack following a mass infiltration by Hamas gunmen from the Gaza Strip lying on the ground in Kibbutz Kfar Aza, in southern Israel, Oct. 10, 2023. Photo: REUTERS/Ilan Rosenberg

When we hear the word victory, certain images come to mind. The FIFA World Cup Trophy lifted high in front of billions of viewers. An Olympic gold medal hung around the champion’s neck. The Wimbledon Trophy raised triumphantly on Centre Court as spectators leap to their feet. We imagine champions like Messi, Michael Jordan, Federer, and Phelps — figures so legendary that they need no introduction.

But this week, I was struck by a very different image of victory. One that puts all the other medals, trophies, and records to shame.

It was a photograph of a six-year-old girl getting on the bus for her first day of school.

Abigail Edan gets on the school bus – Credit Zuli Mor Instagram https://www.instagram.com/p/DODNPczERtr/

Her name is Abigail Edan. A dual Israel-Amerian citizen, Abigail’s home was invaded by Hamas terrorists on October 7, 2023 — and they murdered her parents in front of her eyes.

She survived by hiding under her mother’s body, only to be taken into Gaza and held hostage for 50 days. Freed that November, Abigail was later adopted by two October 7 survivors, Zoli and Leron Mor.

Nearly two years later, she is stepping onto a yellow school bus with her ponytail bouncing, backpack slung over her shoulders. No fanfare. No roaring crowd. Just a quiet everyday moment captured on camera.

But why do I consider this moment such a profound victory?

The timeless wisdom of the Torah offers an answer.

In this week’s portion, Ki Teitzeh, when describing the laws of war, the Torah uses the following words: “Ki Teitze L’Milchama Al Oyvecha.” (Deut. 21:10). Most English translations say “When you go out to war against your enemies.” But the Hebrew words “Al Oyvecha“ literally translate to “over” or “above” your enemies.

The Lubavitcher Rebbe explained the reasoning behind this curious word choice. In a battle, when two sides are on the same level, the fight is endless and no side wins. Only when one side rises “above” the other, particularly in the realms of strength, spirit, and conviction, can victory be secured.

The same applies in our internal conflicts. When we struggle with our negative inclination (the Yetzer Hara), unless the positive inclination has an overwhelming advantage, it’s easy to succumb to our negative impulses. It’s only when we tap into the infinite power of our soul, described in Hasidic texts as “an actual part of G-d” — that we draw on a power that is transcendent and unstoppable, ensuring victory.

Abigail’s story represents this triumph of spirit. On October 7, Israel’s enemies sought to destroy the Jewish people. Yet here is a child who persevered: alive, smiling, carrying a lunchbox, living her life to the fullest. Not just for herself, but indeed for her murdered parents. For this little girl, each act of normalcy is a greater accomplishment than any world record.

According to New York Times columnist Thomas Friedman, the key to Israel’s strength is in its ability to bounce back from tragedy. He noted that immediately following a terror attack, within just an hour, workers have already begun cleaning up the streets, repainting the sidewalks, and repairing the broken buildings. Throughout our people’s long history of persecution, after each attempt a nation made to expel or eradicate us, we proudly and joyfully bounced back, rising like a lion in full splendor.

As we approach Rosh Hashanah, may we recognize that true victory lies with each of us, in our indomitable resolve to pick ourselves each time we get knocked over. Victory lies in our commitment to try again this year, despite the previous year’s shortcomings.

This is our secret to survival, and we continue to stay strong for many years until the coming of Moshiach.

Rabbi Areyah Kaltmann is the executive director of Chabad Columbus and the Lori Schottenstein Chabad Center.

People demonstrate in the city of Santander, Spain, under the motto ‘Let’s stop the genocide in Gaza,’ on Jan. 20, 2024. Photo: Joaquin Gomez Sastre/NurPhoto via Reuters Connect

“Israel committing genocide in Gaza, world’s leading experts say,” blared a BBC headline and similar others in the international media.

Damning stuff. After all, who should know more about genocide than the “world’s leading experts” on the subject?

But, like most of the anti-Israel news appearing daily, it’s bogus. It turns out that, as HonestReporting board member Salo Aizenberg discovered, all you need to be a genocide scholar is to own a credit card.

For a minimum of only 30 dollars, you can become one of the “world’s leading experts.”

I am now officially a “genocide scholar” as a member of the International Association of Genocide Scholars. I will uphold its mission to advance research & teaching on genocide and its prevention. See next link for my viral article exposing false claims of genocide in Gaza. 1/ pic.twitter.com/0bhhdvOSjp

— Aizenberg (@Aizenberg55) September 3, 2025

Aizenberg (and many other interested people) paid (as little as $30 for a year) to become a member of the International Association of Genocide Scholars, which describes itself as a “global, interdisciplinary, non-partisan organization that seeks to further research and teaching about the nature, causes, and consequences of genocide, and advance policy studies on genocide prevention.”

“Non-partisan,” it certainly isn’t. Only a few days ago, the organization passed a resolution declaring that Israel is committing genocide in Gaza.

Who were these experts passing judgment on Israel’s actions against Hamas terrorists in Gaza?

As Aizenberg discovered upon joining, the membership isn’t exclusively academics, historians, librarians, or even recognized experts on genocide.

I’ve been getting to know some of my fellow genocide scholars. Seems that Iraq is a center of knowledge in this field with 80 listed scholars of ~600 (13%). Remarkable, especially the Mahmood family with 5 scholars in the field. I wonder who voted for the Gaza resolution. pic.twitter.com/LeMVh87zMC

— Aizenberg (@Aizenberg55) September 3, 2025

Indeed, it became clear that the IAGS wasn’t checking who joins.

Case in point  https://t.co/DZ25WagRNH pic.twitter.com/TbDKvLecFB

— Mark Zlochin – מארק זלוצ’ין༝ (@MarkZlochin) September 3, 2025

Shortly after pro-Israel activists started joining the IAGS to expose its failings, the organization appeared to take action, shutting down its membership page and removing its membership list from public view.

The organization’s social media also appeared to be offline as new applicants were marked as “inactive,” including genuine and legitimate genocide scholars who happen to be pro-Israel like Elliot Malin.

Umm, @GenocideStudies, what’s going on here? I paid my dues and am actually a subject matter expert.

Are you unhappy that there’s dissension? https://t.co/1EUDtJ7KzQ pic.twitter.com/OjoInSLZeg

— 𝔼𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕠𝕥 𝕄𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕟  (@ElliotMalin) September 3, 2025

Spinning a “Majority Vote”

As for the vote itself, the IAGS’s president, Mary O’Brien, proudly proclaimed that her organization’s genocide resolution was passed by an overwhelming majority, a claim amplified by some media outlets that failed to check the actual numbers and do the math.

The @GenocideStudies president claims a resolution that Israel is committing genocide “passed by an overwhelming majority” and is a “really representative opinion” of experts.

It’s not. Only 28% of the membership actually voted.

Melanie O’Brien, your resolution is a sham. pic.twitter.com/LL33WH6HcV

— HonestReporting (@HonestReporting) September 2, 2025

At the time of the vote, the IAGS had some 500 members eligible to vote. Only 28% of the full membership bothered. So when some media or the IAGS’s staff claimed an overwhelming majority of the members — some 86% — voted in favor, they were not being transparent.

Many media outlets are reporting that 86% of members of @GenocideStudies voted in favor of a resolution stating Israel is carrying out a genocide.

Only 28% of the 500 members actually voted. And only 120 voted in favor.

You do the math.@washingtonpost, @Telegraph, you owe… https://t.co/vYZKdiUPeW pic.twitter.com/lqakJcLYni

— HonestReporting (@HonestReporting) September 2, 2025

Subverting the Organization

Even without getting into the substance of the resolution, it’s clear that the IAGS has been taken over by activists less concerned with actual genocide scholarship and more interested in anti-Israel activism.

Organization member Dr. Sara E. Brown noted:

We were promised a town hall, which is a common practice for controversial resolutions, but the president of the association reversed that. The association has also refused to disclose who were the authors of the resolution.

Perhaps the five Mahmood family members from Iraq, whom Aizenberg identified as fellow genocide experts, were responsible?

As the considerable media coverage proved, the inference of credibility that an organization like the IAGS possesses is a powerful weapon in the hands of anti-Israel activists posing as renowned experts in their field.

Too many organizations, including media, unions, trade associations, and others, have been hijacked by people hell bent on subverting everything to the Palestinian cause. And they’ll stop at nothing to blacken Israel’s name.

The author is the Editorial Director of HonestReporting, a Jerusalem-based media watchdog with a focus on antisemitism and anti-Israel bias — where a version of this article first appeared.

Illustrative photo of a university classroom. Photo: Public domain.

Disorderly classrooms, tarps, and paint buckets gave the school that unmistakable neglected look of summer. While the building itself lay dormant, I was there to train a group of educators who were fully awake: animated, thoughtful, and already immersed in planning for the coming year.

Their minds weren’t just on class schedules or supplies. They were wrestling with something far more complex: how their work will intersect with the painful social and cultural realities unfolding both inside and outside the walls of their institutions, and how to navigate the responsibility of mediating between those forces and the needs of their learners. Among the most urgent of those questions was how — or even whether — to talk about Israel.

It happened that this particular training session took place in Jerusalem, but it has become clear to me that Israeli educators are asking the same questions as their Diaspora colleagues in schools, youth groups, synagogues, and college campuses around the world:  

How do we help our learners grapple with the challenges unfolding in and around Israel? 

How much should we allow the outside world to shape the internal curriculum of our institutions? 

What if we say the wrong thing? 

What if we’re not even sure what we believe anymore?

As Jewish educators, we know how charged these questions have become. In today’s polarized climate, it often feels easier to say nothing than to risk saying something that could be seen as divisive or controversial. But that silence comes at a cost. For our learners, who are navigating their own swirling questions about identity, belonging, and what Israel means to them, our avoidance doesn’t feel neutral. It feels like confusion — or worse, fear.

The problem is that in a time of war, division, and rising fear, it is neither possible nor sustainable to ignore the realities of our current moment. That’s why I believe this is exactly the moment for us, as Jewish educators, to start talking — openly and personally — about what Israel means to us. I am not talking about analyzing geopolitics, or giving a learned exposition of the history of the Arab-Israeli conflict, or knowing the ins and outs of what all sides in the conflict are claiming.

Rather, I am talking about exploring and articulating our own personal relationships with Israel — however uncertain or evolving they may be, so that we can model passion, embrace multiple voices, and demonstrate commitment for our learners. Only then can we help them engage with their own questions, build understanding, and develop a meaningful, lasting connection of their own.

This process starts with answering a deceptively simple question: Why does Israel matter to me? What was the emotional memory, the inherited connection, or the Israel story that stirred something in you — even if it was pain, anger or despair?

For some of us, the answer comes easily. For others, it’s tangled, unclear, or still taking shape. Sometimes, the answer is simply, “I don’t know yet.” But asking the question — honestly and without judgment — is the first step toward clarity. And that clarity is what gives educators the grounding we need to support our learners through their own journeys.

I recently saw this approach in action at a conference attended by prominent, deeply experienced Jewish educators and communal leaders. One session brought together five thoughtful, diverse, and inspiring voices — each offering a unique perspective on why Israel matters to them.

One spoke about how her connection to Israel was rooted in the power of family; another reflected on the way his dual identity — as an Israeli and an American — has shaped his understanding of responsibility and power. A third described seeing Judaism and Israel as irrevocably intertwined. Then his colleague shared a powerful story about visiting Israel as a Black Jew by choice, with children who speak fluent Hebrew.

The final panelist shared the story of her Israel activism, which has taken her on a long journey both to and from Israel. Each story was powerful in itself, and — when heard together — they modeled how Israel can actually be a vessel that brings us together in understanding and human empathy, rather than driving us apart through polarization and alienation. 

One educator in the audience, Ariele Mortkowitz from Washington, D.C., and the founder of Svivah, a diverse, grass-roots community of Jewish women, reflected on how listening to all of these voices could serve as a powerful tool in her own teaching.

She learned how receiving something authentic and emotional, even when it feels risky, can open up a different kind of environment for connection. “The personal space allows people to listen better — with more curiosity and empathy — when it’s a story filled with emotion,” she said, adding: “Even if our politics differ, the mutual caring about Israel creates a place of sharing and makes it possible to find similarity.”

When educators go through this kind of process — when we explore what Israel means to us, in our own words and on our own terms — we create a foundation strong enough to hold others. We become role models for how to stay in the conversation, even when it’s uncomfortable.

For example, Yakir Englander, one of the presenters, and an expert in Jewish philosophy who focuses on leadership development for the Israeli American Council, described how the exercise pushed him to confront his own truth.

“There was something about the time pressure that forced me to be honest and authentic with myself — asking what I dare to say in wartime, and what is inappropriate to say,” he explained. “But knowing that beside me were speakers who are each beloved members of the community — people who know how to speak from love — was critical.” 

This process isn’t about reaching consensus or arriving at neat conclusions. It’s about creating the conditions for honest, values-based engagement — first within ourselves, and then within our classrooms and communities. The point isn’t to agree on language or politics, but to practice showing up and expressing ourselves and listening to others with integrity, curiosity, and care.

That’s what allows us to support our learners as they begin their own journeys of questioning and connection. Once we better understand our own convictions — even if those convictions are evolving — we’re better equipped to hold space for others.

This coming year will not be an easy one. Jewish students will continue to face scrutiny, pressure, and painful questions about who they are and what they believe — from themselves, fellow Jews, and non-Jews. Our job as educators is not to hand them answers, but to model what it looks like as we search for our own truths with courage and humility.

So let’s start by asking ourselves: Why does Israel matter to me? Let’s make space for the answers that arise — and get prepared to share them.

Clare Goldwater is the Chief Strategy Officer of M²: The Institute for Experiential Jewish Education.