Israeli Elections Day: The Festival of Freedom

Whether right, left or centre, the one thing all Israelis agree on is that they are happy today is a national holiday. As a religious person, it makes a pleasant change to have a day off that doesn't include biblically-ordained restrictions. As a British person, it seems bizarre to miss a whole day of work for an action that takes a few minutes. But I have come to realise that the reason why we don't work is because today is truly a national holiday.

For most of the campaign, I have imagined that holiday to be somewhat of an extension of Purim. The extravagant warnings of dire consequences of voting for the other side that we constantly hear. The numerous amount of humourous political video clips. Netanyahu's narrative that if we don't vote for him, the Persians will finally succeed in destroying the Jews, who only he can save. I have thoroughly enjoyed the last few months of Israeli politics, but I wish it had only remained in the realm of the 'Purim Spiel'.

However as the day approached and the time came to finally decide who I was going to vote for, I realised that Election Day can really be compared to Pesach, the time of our freedom. On Purim, the Jews were bystanders as Mordechai and Esther contrived to save the Jewish people, but on Pesach every family and person made their own contribution to the Exodus by sacrificing the Korban Pesach and painting blood on the door. A small act, and indeed nothing on the scale of Moshe and Aharon's actions - let alone God's - but an act nonetheless. The moment when the people defied their Egyptian taskmasters and followed this mitzvah was when they became a free people, placing their destiny in their own hands.

My individual act of voting may seem a small act, making relatively little impact when cast alone. But as part of a nation, we as a collective are able to choose our own destiny. Today is a modern day Chag Hacherut, festival of freedom. It is unlike other Jewish festivals, both modern and ancient, in one stark way: You have to live in Israel. It is possible to celebrate great historical events and miracles anywhere in the world, but to create the history for future generations, you can only be in this land.

And it was for this purpose that I made Aliyah. When I vote in an Israeli election, I am able to play a part in shaping the future for the world's only Jewish state, and in fact the Jewish people entire. Rather than speculating and analysing from afar, I now have to get off the fence, choose a direction and be prepared to face the consequences. In football terms, it's the difference between being a commentator and a manager. Being a manager is much harder, and forces you to take risks - but that's how success is achieved.

It was only after this realisation that I decided how I would vote. One of my options was to vote for one of the two main parties because Israel would benefit from two-party dominance, and this would assuage the concerns I had in voting that party in. Another option was to vote tactically, based on who I would prefer to be Prime Minister, how the coalition negotiations would pan out and what I think other voters would end up doing on the day. But as much as I believe in the two-party system, and as much as I am fascinated by the coalition permutations to Carling Opta proportions, those shouldn't be reasons why I should vote for a certain party. With one vote, I can't second guess the entire population, and I can't single-handedly change the political system in one day.

Rather, I will vote for the party that I believe has the best vision for what Israel should look like tomorrow, with the desire to work tirelessly towards that goal. After all, that's what I came to the country to do. And as I prepare to place my card in the ballot box, I will for the first time understand the line of the Hatikvah, "To be a free people in our land". Chag Sameach!

Guide to the Persian Elections 2015

It's been a year of turmoil for Persian politics. Following a year of war, internal palace backstabbing and political maneuvering, Persians are once again going to the polls. Here's a short overview of the leading candidates and parties aiming to take control of Persia in the elections taking place in Adar 2015.

Likud

Led by Achashveirosh, nicknamed "King Achashveirosh", who is entering his 12th year in charge of the party, the Likud are seen as the most likely party to win the Persian elections. However recently the party has been rocked by an expenses scandal involving Achashveirosh's excessive spending at feasts paid for by taxes which he levied. Achashveirosh's major platform is security, and preventing the Greeks from obtaining a nuclear javelin. However, many people point to the wars, civil unrest and attempted assassinations and question Achashveirosh's security credentials. Despite all this, Achashveirosh's fluent declarations in each people's language and script still make him a strong candidate, and polls show that he is still liked by "most of his brethren".

Persian Union

The newly-formed Persian Union is the main challenger to Achashveirosh for the kingship, and their 'it's us or him' campaign, and calls for a 'revolution' have succeeded in making this a two-horse race around Shushan. The surprise of the campaign was the alliance of two former political rivals, Haman and Vashti, who have committed to sharing the throne in the next term of office should they win the election. The two leaders come from contrasting backgrounds; whereas Haman has always been a rival of Mordechai and a champion of the left, Vashti has had a nomadic career, which started with her being second on Achashveirosh's list, a position which ended when she refused to come to a crucial cabinet meeting and was subsequently sacked by him. Haman's lack of charisma means that he faces a battle to win over the electorate, who regularly make fun of his voice at public events all over the country.

Mordechai Hayehudi

Formerly known as the National Religious Party, the Mordechai Hayehudi party promotes the Jewish people's return to the homeland and is hawkish on many issues of religion and state. It's main platform is that Persia's provincial system does not work, and it wants Shushan to annex two thirds of Persia's 127 provinces and bring them under Persian law. This would mean that controversial laws such as 'making each man dominion over his wife' would be extended, thus placing into question Mordechai's attempts to modernise the party (though this is slightly mitigated by his placing of Esther as number 2 on his list). His publicity stunt of not bowing down to Haman, and social media campaign encouraging others to not bow down to things they don't worship, has elicited criticisms of scaremongering. However Mordechai, who once worked as Chief of Staff of Achashveirosh's office, is increasingly being touted for the top job in Persia.

Yesh Atid

This relatively new party was formed by Bigtan before the last elections, and took the country by storm. Previously a TV show host, Bigtan was famous for his on-screen partnership with Teresh, and the two co-hosted famous shows such as 'Persian Idol' and 'Xerxes Factor', which eventually produced Esther as a celebrity wife for Achashveirosh. Bigtan's political career soured following a fall-out with Achashveirosh, where the latter famously accused Bigtan of trying to mount a coup. The situation escalated when Mordechai told Achashveirosh that Bigtan was preparing an assassination attempt on him, and Achashveirosh subsequently dissolved the government. Disgraced, and the loser of a personal political dual with Mordechai, Bigtan is not expected to win many seats this time around.

Culanu

Culanu is a new party led by Charvonah, and could be the surprise package of this election. Charvona is seen as a populist, whose main platform is the targeting of rich magnates who inflict evil on the population. His sudden rise to fame came in preventing Haman from destroying the Jewish people by hanging him on the gallows he made for Mordechai. However aides of Achashveirosh are at pains to point out that this policy was only successful due to Achashveirosh's strong leadership and approval of the plan. That being said, it was Charvona who took the credit and will be remembered for good.

Wanstead and Woodford Synagogue: End of an Era

This article was written for the Shul Times, the newsletter of Wanstead and Woodford Synagogue, Parashat Beshallach 5775.

"We shape our buildings, and afterwards our buildings shape us" - Sir Winston Churchill, MP for Wanstead and Woodford

Some shuls are renowned for their beautiful architecture. Others boast an illustrious list of famous rabbis or worshippers. Many can trace their roots back hundreds of years. Wanstead and Woodford Synagogue, in North East London, does not fall into any of these categories. Yet as we approach its final Shabbat before merging to form a new community, I believe that this shul leaves a legacy far more meaningful than design, history and famous people.

From the outset, the founder members designed a building to fit the needs of the community. The creation of multi-purpose open spaces as opposed to fixed furniture allowed the shul to be a 'Beit Knesset', a house of assembly, in the fullest sense of the word. And I would suggest that the very nature of the building has shaped the community: whereas some shuls prioritise the preservation of the building above all else, in Wanstead and Woodford, the focus was always on the people, not the building. We'll move the chairs and pews to fit the purpose, because that's what the community needs. We aren't beholden to what was, but rather embrace change to fit the present. Every person is important and precious.

These attitudes explain why when I was growing up, young people were encouraged to take part in services, hold youth service 'takeovers' of the main shul, run our own youth minyan, have free rein of the shul to run a very successful branch of Bnei Akiva and even paint a 'BA room' in a classroom! Shabbatot and chagim were geared towards children, and we were encouraged to take part in every aspect of shul life. It was in Wanstead and Woodford that I learned how to daven, leyen, give a shiur, dance at a simcha, run an event, speak to people of all ages, hold an explanatory service - and above all, care about the Jewish people. And it's not just me - many of my friends and peers gained tremendously from the responsibility they undertook, and it's no surprise to see those who grew up in Wanstead and Woodford active in all fields of Jewish life, such as J-Soc activists, youth movement workers, teachers, school governors, rabbis and much more.

The constant focus on education is entrenched in the nature of the Wanstead and Woodford community. When there was an educational programme after the Shabbat morning service, I was often amazed to see well over half of those who came in the morning staying to learn Torah. For many years, the shul's own nursery, staffed mainly by teachers from the community, gave hundreds of children a great start in life, and connected them and their families with their local shul. I have been privileged to run explanatory services on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, a project which grew in interest each year in spite of declining numbers at High Holydays services.

One of the most incredible aspects of the shul has been the absolute determination to maintain the highest religious standards, and particularly to ensure there is always a minyan. In the face of an ageing community and a gradual exodus to North West London of committed members, the fact that a daily Shacharit minyan has been maintained appears nothing short of a miracle, but was made a reality by a small group of dedicated people. I don't ever remember a time when more than 15 people came to Shabbat Mincha on a regular basis, but I have also never heard anyone question the viability of holding it.

However, the minyan wasn't just about getting 10 men and rushing through the service. There was always time to daven, time to sing Hallel, and sing new tunes. In recent years, a 'Carlebach' Kabbalat Shabbat became the norm, not the exception, including frequent bursts of dancing. Even the saying of 'Ma'aravot' and 'Veyiten Lecha' signalled a desire to go above and beyond, adding more holiness to the service. Whether it was the Hakafot on Simchat Torah led by the youth, which always lasted for hours, or Neilah services, with the entire shul singing loudly, Wanstead and Woodford has provided many people with countless religious experiences that are truly without parallel.

At the heart of all the amazing things listed above is the fact that the community displays a genuine warmth and kindness. Welcoming guests, raising money for tzedaka and Shabbat hospitality are just a few examples of the trait of chesed that runs through the shul. I am truly privileged to have been surrounded by these people for many years, and the community has been one of the greatest influences on my life. To have been a part of the Wanstead and Woodford community is one of the greatest honours I will ever have, and I will be forever indebted to all those who founded, maintained and led it. And the greatest testament to what Wanstead and Woodford Synagogue stands for is its decision to place the future ahead of the past and merge to form a new shul, Woodford Forest United Synagogue, which will serve the needs of the community for many years to come. B'hatzlacha!

I'm sorry, I haven't a clue

Please, thanks and sorry. Three simple words that formed the cornerstone of my earliest sentences. They were not superfluous extras, and if I did not mention one of them where appropriate, a reminder from my parents would swiftly follow.

All three words are admissions that you are in some way reliant on others in order to co-exist together. If you don’t apologise, it means you don’t need other people to carry on. If you don’t say please, you imply that others are there to serve you. If you don’t thank someone, you are failing to appreciate what you have. These three implications cut to the core of the most fundamental ethics of Jewish teaching; that of loving one’s fellow, treating people with respect and appreciating what one has.

I started thinking about this idea when I saw the Bayit Yehudi (National Home) Party’s new satirical promotional clip on Facebook. It features leader Naftali Bennett dressed up as a hipster, walking around Tel Aviv apologising for things he clearly hasn’t done. A waitress spills coffee over him, a car drives into his and a lady takes a bike he was about to take – and in all three cases, he apologises. After reading an article in the left-wing newspaper Ha’aretz entitled ‘Israel must apologise’, he reveals himself and announces that “from today, we stop apologising”.

Without entering into the political implications of this promotion, the satirising of an apology as weakness is a very dangerous step. In one of the Torah’s most dramatic moments, Yehuda, who had descended into a cycle of sin and depravity apologises for his actions, admitting he was wrong. God viewed this as a sign of strength, not weakness, and it is because of this episode that Yehuda was able to assume the mantle of Jewish leadership, and ultimately kingship, for all time.

Living and working in Israel, and specifically in the Religious Zionist community, my anecdotal perception is that people say please, thanks and sorry less in Israel than in Britain. This perception is compounded by the many times I have heard Israelis make fun of British people for being polite. Don’t worry, I have a sense of humour – but I don’t find this joke funny. I am proud to maintain my British manners of saying please, thanks and sorry even when my parents are in another country – and I won’t apologise for it.

I agree that people – and states – should not apologise for things they haven’t done wrong and should apologise for things they have. But even this basic level of nuance is not reflected in his ‘anti-apologist’ message. What starts as a political campaign could well reinforce societal norms. Israeli society on a day-to-day level needs people to start healing wounds with one another, and could do with its leadership promoting the notion of apologising when relevant.

It could be that Naftali Bennett has a point that the Bayit Yehudi, or more broadly Israel, needs to be less apologetic for its beliefs and actions. However with this strategy, he is playing around with one of the traits most crucial to maintaining Israel as a tolerant and inclusive society. It is time for those of us who have grown up with a culture of saying please, thanks and sorry to unashamedly bring these words, and associated concepts, to the discourse of Israeli society. If we can’t, well, I’m sorry, I haven’t a clue.

The Squeezed Middle of the Big Society

In the post-modern, multicultural and globalised world we live in today, it is much harder for western countries to define a sense of national identity and shared values. The UK is a prime case in point. Should it define itself through its Christian, imperial history or its multicultural, liberal present? In the days of New Labour, the latter was stressed. Now, following the ‘Trojan Horse’ scandal, the Coalition government are moving to the former.

Beyond this debate lies the UK’s Jewish community, happily going about its business. British Jews, with a long history of loyalty to Queen and country, a religious and cultural predisposition to integrate into a host country’s society and a broad sharing of values with modern Britain, seem to be above this kind of national identity crisis. Defining its relationship with mainstream British culture by its contribution to it, which has undoubtedly been disproportionately influential, the Jewish community’s place within British society is seemingly beyond question.

Or perhaps not. In Sir Michael Wilshaw’s (Head of Ofsted) Advice Note to the UK government in light of ‘Trojan Horse’, where inspections revealed that groups of governors with Islamic extremist tendencies had dramatically altered the ethos of some state schools in Birmingham in accordance with their agendas, he says that “in culturally homogeneous communities, schools are often the only places where children can learn about other faiths, other cultures and other styles of living”. As a result, all schools – including faith schools, will be required to “promote the values of wider British society”.

Although this policy seems innocuous, it could well represent a fatal blow to the right of the Jewish community to define the way it wants to live in the UK. Most would agree that Jewish schools prepare their students for life in modern Britain – even Charedi schools, who, despite their radically conservative approach, still produce law-abiding and respectful citizens. However they do much more than this. Whether it is Zionist principles of Jewish nationalism, support for the IDF and a positive disposition towards Aliyah or religious Jewish principles of fighting assimilation, traditional family values and differing roles for men and women, any inspection focusing on beliefs and attitudes within Jewish schools will put them on collision course with Ofsted and call into question their very existence within society.

The fundamental shift here is the switch from defining a minority community’s relationship with mainstream society by contribution, to one by belief. Although there are certainly problems with extremist values being taught in schools, turning Ofsted into the ‘thought police’ sets a dangerous precedent.

British politics is experiencing a polarisation of views to both the left and the right. The disaffected liberal middle class is pushing Labour towards the left, abandoning Tony Blair’s ‘third way’, whilst the disaffected working class is pushing the Conservatives towards the right, manifested indirectly through widespread support for UKIP. The Jewish community is becoming abandoned in the middle. Support for the IDF arouses the ire of the left, whilst the concept of a dual loyalty to Britain and Israel will soon cross a red line for the right.

History has a tendency to repeat itself. Jews have always been the enemy of the far left and the far right. However, bad things happen when they are attacked from both sides simultaneously. And what’s more, of all the issues to affect the Jewish community, it is the right to educate children in the Jewish way that represents one of the absolute fundamentals of Jewish life.

Ironically, it is the Jewish people who taught the western world the value of education and the right of every child to receive one. It is the Jewish people who have vast and successful experience of teaching Jewish values in a host country. It is the Jewish people who have consistently integrated into cultures the world over, bringing their own vigour and creativity to improving the society around them.

The UK Jewish community are fast becoming the 'Squeezed Middle' of the 'Big Society'. But sadly, neither Ed Miliband nor David Cameron seem to be paying attention.

Singing in Auschwitz

An open letter to the Director of the Auschwitz Birkenau Memorial and Museum.

I am the head of the World Bnei Akiva MTA programme, whose visit to Auschwitz on Friday 1st August has garnered much publicity throughout Israel and the Jewish world due to the detention and fining of its tour guide, Rabbi Rafi Ostroff.

Since the story has broken, your policy has been to defend the actions of your security personnel. Your PR department has made numerous comments on Facebook, including many examples of inaccurate reports about our group's behaviour. These include, but are not limited to: running around the site, not having a memorial guide and waving flags so that other visitors had to move away quickly. You have described our behaviour as "awful" and claimed that we were "disrupting public order". You have admitted that groups are able to sing "at the top of their lungs" when they are "alone" on the site, yet your police drove over to stop the group singing when no-one was around (see picture).

You followed a policy of constantly responding to posts about this incident, however the result has been that your story has been inconsistent. In some - but not all - cases, you have apologised for making inaccurate claims about our group and mixing it up with other groups on site. In addition to this, you claim to have video footage of the event, and to have received "numerous" complaints by visitors and guides. But you haven't specified how many, nor have you released the video.

You have constantly talked about the requirement for sensitivity within the site, yet I have not seen you address the lack of sensitivity displayed by your security personnel throughout the day, which could have prevented this incident from escalating. In particular, but not exclusively, I am referring to the incident which actually resulted in the calling of the police, which followed the group singing on the path from 'Mexico' towards the convent, and then towards the exit with no-one else in sight. The security officer, who drove out of his way to challenge us, approached me and we had a long conversation. I tried to defuse the situation, saying that the boys are not disturbing anyone and will be out of the site in a minute. His decision to escalate matters by insisting they stopped singing at the exit (see picture), detaining Rabbi Ostroff and eventually calling the police displayed a lack of sensitivity towards our group at a site that requires it more than any other.

You have also tried to claim that ours was an isolated incident, yet I know of two other groups who also faced similar problems with security personnel in Auschwitz over the last few weeks. Given that singing by Jewish groups in Auschwitz is an established practice for many years, I find it hard to believe that the general demeanour of Jewish groups has changed recently. Indeed, this was my third visit to Auschwitz as part of a group of young Jewish people and each time we have sung at the same locations and conducted ourselves in the same way without any issue with the site management. As a principle, singing slow and sad songs is how Jewish people commemorate and memorialise the Holocaust, and remember their loved ones at sites where their family members perished, especially Auschwitz.

As a result of all this, I request that you personally write a letter to the 18-year-old members of the group and apologise for spreading mistruths about their conduct, in addition to apologising to Rabbi Ostroff for the incident itself. I also request that rather than punishing the participants by taking away 1000 zloties from their group's budget, you return the money, which I will put towards more Holocaust education for the programme. Finally, I ask that you initiate a training programme for your staff in order for them to understand the sensitivities required with regard to Jewish and Israeli groups.

A people that dwells alone

The song 'Hein Am' by Yaakov Shwekey has, in recent years, become a popular tune at Jewish celebrations. It is a quote from Bamidbar 23:9, uttered by the non-Jewish prophet Bilam, who famously tried to curse the Jewish people yet after divine intervention ended up blessing them: "From the top of the rocks I see him [referring to the Jewish people], and from the hills I behold him; behold, it is a people that dwells alone, not reckoned among the nations".

The tune and upbeat nature of this song suggests that the words are to be celebrated: in this case, that the Jewish people were, are, and forever will be alone, and that we should accept this, and rejoice in it. This feeling of loneliness among the nations is felt throughout the Jewish world today, especially during times of war in Israel, as is the case currently. It was certainly the overriding feeling felt by millions of Jews who lived through the horrors of the Holocaust and the bold attempts to establish a Jewish state in the Land of Israel against the odds.

However, Rabbi Sacks makes a strong argument that this prophecy remains that which Bilam intended - a curse. He brings the Talmud Sanhedrin's statement that all of Bilam's 'blessings' turned into curses with the exception of one. Furthermore, the great commentators understood the phrase to mean that Jews are indestructible (Rashi), don't assimilate (Ibn Ezra) and maintain their own integrity (Ramban). To be isolated, says Rabbi Sacks, is not a blessing, nor is it our destiny.

Although the notion of Jewish isolation has played a role in my education, and was my way of dealing with the challenges of being a religious Jew at a non-Jewish school during the Second Intifada, I have grown to appreciate Rabbi Sacks' assertion. The Jewish mission of bringing peace and justice to the world through a recognition of God cannot be achieved without it. Just as with my religious Zionist belief that we can hasten the redemption through our actions, so too here, we must win over the nations of the world and not shut ourselves off from it. As Rabbi Sacks says, "It is vitally important not to believe in advance that we are destined to be alone...If we are convinced we will fail, we probably will. That is why the rabbis were right to suggest that Bilam’s words were not necessarily well-meant" (Covenant and Conversation, Parashat Balak 5771).

Yet despite all this, during Operation Protective Edge, I find myself once again resorting to feelings of loneliness. The accusations I have heard are familiar refrains: Israel has no regard for international law; Israel places a lower value on Palestinian life compared to Israeli life; Israel deliberately targets, or doesn't do enough to prevent, civilian casualties; terrorism comes as a result of Israel's policies; Israel's response to attacks on its citizens is allowed, but always disproportionate - and more. Whilst it is undoubtedly true that there are key figures such as world leaders and newspaper editors who do support Israel's actions, these accusations still run abound throughout the world media and popular opinion.

Yet as Israel approaches each new conflict, and specifically in Operation Protective Edge, there are two things that improve. One is the effort to which Israel goes to protect Palestinian lives, be it through phone warnings before strikes, setting up field hospitals or calling off airstrikes if civilians are detected. The other is Israel's determination to film action on the ground and publicise it on social media, so that rather than merely hearing from an IDF spokesman, we can see for ourselves the Hamas tunnels, stores of rockets and the hospitals and schools being used as rocket launch bases. In 2014 Israel has become extremely proficient in both areas, and leads the world in how to respond proportionately to constant terrorist threats, whilst maintaining dignity for the rights of civilians despite the often-blurred lines between civilian and terrorist.

This is why I feel alone when I hear the familiar accusations against Israel in 2014. Even if they applied to any degree in previous campaigns, I find it impossible to justify them with regard to Operation Protective Edge. Israel have not ignored the world and practiced isolationism. Rather, the effort to project Israel's message to the world has been the best yet - from political decisions made with world opinion in mind to mass media campaigns affecting the common person. Furthermore, this conflict has been with Hamas, a terrorist organisation whose charter, rhetoric and recent military and political decisions, one would think, leaves it morally indefensible.

I want to resist the natural reaction and declare that indeed, we are destined to be a nation that dwells alone. I don't want to believe that no-one understands us. Moreover, I do not want to resign myself to the knowledge that Israel must be seen as the aggressor, and that we should give up persuading the world otherwise. But how can this apparent chasm between the ideal and the reality be bridged?

One of the oft-repeated frustrations shared by supporters of Israel is the tendency to lend a higher level of scrutiny to its actions in comparison with other world conflicts, whether through media attention, UN resolutions or governmental action. Although this frustration is understandable, especially, for example, in light of the atrocities being committed in Syria, it also misses the point. Irrespective of other conflicts, Israel should be acting to the absolute highest moral standard and world attention should be a cause for optimism, so that we can showcase our ethical values to the world. In effect, it's not enough to be 'better' in comparison. As a Jewish country, we should only strive for the absolute best in every moral count.

Perhaps herein lies our challenge. At times of war, the people of Israel come together and unite. This unity is not just based on a common concern for each other's welfare, rather it is also based on a unity of values, such as the right of self-defence and the care for all casualties of war, on both sides. However in times of peace, do we experience the same unity? And if we do, how often is it unity based on common values? For all Israel's achievements, we who strive for only the highest moral standards, know that we can do more to improve our society and thus influence the nations around us. Is our society free of corruption, free of crime and free of intolerance? Can we do better in helping minorities, balancing inequalities and creating the haven of social justice envisioned by our prophets? We know that the answer to this is that we can improve - and that's natural, since we are a relatively new state, which is work in progress.

The world, subconsciously or not, is looking to the Jewish state to provide the highest possible moral standard in everything it does. We know from history that when the Jewish state was at its religious and ethical best during the time of King Solomon, it ushered in an era of financial security and peace, and Israel was the envy of the nations. We shouldn't need to compare ourselves to other nations, rather we only need look to our own heritage, traditions and values, and act accordingly. I would like to suggest that the chasm between the ideal position of Israel within the world and its current standing will not be bridged during the flare-ups of war. Rather, the times of war merely express the disquiet the world feels with our inability to fully realise the Jewish mission to be the world's moral standard every single moment of every single day.

Bilam's prophecy cleverly played on the notion of chosenness, a positive force which he turned into a negative one by foretelling our isolation among the nations. If we want to rid ourselves of this curse and never to feel the loneliness we currently feel, we need to channel this force and dedicate our efforts to making Israel the absolute moral entity we have dreamed for, prayed for, and are on the way to achieving.