Over the past week, I have been trying to understand why the attack on Israel has left me so personally bruised and enraged living thousands of miles away from the horrific scenes. What has happened makes no sense at all, but somehow we all have to make sense of it. This is what I concluded.

My feelings towards the events, of course, have a very personal dimension. The Jewish community is closely interconnected – there is only one degree of separation. I have friends with family or friends who have been murdered or kidnapped. This isn’t like the Manchester Arena attack or 9/11. It isn’t distant horror. The horror is far too close. Of course, every life matters, but it just matters more when you know them or are connected to them in some way. I also have friends and family who have been called up. It’s an awful anxiety to live knowing that their world is on edge.
However, as I tried to understand my reaction, I knew it was more than that. It was also because I have come to feel unsafe in Britain. The other day I was walking back from synagogue when a car stopped. I felt uneasy. What would happen if the driver was an antisemite? The driver asked me for directions to a nearby landmark; I gave them to him and he drove off. They’ll no doubt never think twice about that conversation again. I’ll remember it for the rest of my life. I shouldn’t have to feel afraid because I am a Jew living in Britain, but I did. I’m actually third generation born in this country. My ancestors left Russia and Poland to come here after the pogroms at the beginning of the twentieth century. It’s something I’ve always known but hasn’t seemed relevant to my life. It does now.

But as the week went on I began to question my whole identity and what it means to be British. What are British values? They come slowly off the tongue – democracy, freedom, a belief in a welfare state, multiculturalism, a history that is not mine and and, what else? I’m not sure. Are these values that are central to my core? They seem a bit bland. I could be anywhere. But when I think about Israeli values – these come a lot more rapidly – tenacity, not giving up when the going gets tough, innovation, family values, a sense of morality, thinking outside of the box , helping others out in times of need, education being essential for progression, the sanctification of human life and a history that is mine. I could go on and on. These are my values. This is my core. It doesn’t mean I want to live in Israel. Culturally I’m British. This is my home. But it does mean that I am much more closely connected to Israel than I thought I was.

This week all around me people have been questioning the values of Israel and in particular, it’s morality. By implication, they are questioning the morality of Jews everywhere. Before these atrocities, I would have said that I thought Benjamin Netanyahu, the Israeli Prime Minister, had a loose sense of morality. He’s been accused of bribery, fraud and a breach of trust and faces criminal proceedings. In addition, he heads a government that is attempting to disrupt democracy in Israel. However, a loose sense of morals isn’t the same as not believing in the value human life. It certainly doesn’t mean that he, and the Israeli Defense Force (IDF) are guilty of purposely killing innocent civilians out of retribution – just to get back at Hamas, like some sort of childish spat. The implication is of course, that Jewish people worldwide think that they are more important than everyone else. That we value ourselves more than we do others. That just like Hamas we are evil to the core and need to be destroyed. That the Jewish way is not to value life. It’s not true and somewhere along the line I’ve taken it personally that others think that it is case.
The truth is that the Israeli’s don’t have a choice. They have to prevent this from happening again. . The IDF might not make all the right decisions on the ground. People can disagree with their military strategy. But their overall objective of getting rid of Hamas should not be questioned. Israelis, whose values I share, are not evil in the way that members of Hamas are.

Last Saturday in Israel, they should have been celebrating the festival of the Rejoicing of the Law. Instead, it began a period of devastation, destruction, and, for me, reevaluating everything that I hold dear. I have concluded that human evil is too close to home, that life is very precarious and that I’m not a British Jew after all, but a Jew who happens to live in Britain.