How do you commemorate something still unfolding? That question looms large today, on the 365th day since October 7, as we grapple with the brutal reality of a world irrevocably changed. How do we honor the lives lost on that terrible day and in the ensuing war for Israel’s survival, while also committing to build a future defined not by tragedy but by strength and resilience? We might never find a satisfactory answer. But to begin our search for one, we must recognize that the struggle spans both physical and ideological battlefields.
First is the literal battlefield. The horrific attack by Hamas on October 7 was not just a terrorist assault; it was an attempt to break the spirit of a nation, to humiliate and destroy it. That day will be forever etched into our collective memory, a deep national wound. But out of that darkness, and perhaps because of it, Israel has risen with a fierce resolve, fighting an existential war that has now spread far beyond its original borders, as the Islamic Republic of Iran and its proxies besiege the Jewish state from all sides.
And yet, the tragedy of October 7 has been followed by victories that nobody could have imagined. Hamas, whose brutality knows no bounds, is now on its knees. Hezbollah, until last week viewed as an existential threat to Israel, has been defeated in what will inevitably be viewed as the most jaw-dropping counterterrorism campaign in history. The targeted killings of Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah and Hamas leader Ismail Haniyeh in Tehran serve as a stark warning to the Grand Ayatollah that nowhere, not even within the heart of Iran, is safe.
But victory on the battlefield is only one part of the fight. The international community, the Biden–Harris administration, and various European governments will undoubtedly increase pressure even further on Israel to relent and seek a ceasefire with those who would sacrifice nearly everything to destroy it. But in the face of such evil—especially one that seeks to overthrow Western civilization, as well—one must show no signs of weakness. As Andrew Klavan so aptly put it: “I just hope Israel can save Western civilization before Western civilization can stop them.”
The second battlefront hits closer to home, in the cities and streets of the West. The October 7 massacre unleashed a wave of hatred the likes of which we thought were relegated to history books. But the massacre didn’t just embolden Israel’s enemies; it gave anti-Semites in the West carte blanche to display to the world their depravity and support for terrorism and violence. And the response? Silence, from too many of our institutions. Where we expected moral clarity, we found indifference or outright hostility. While millions in the West have admirably stood by the Jewish people, the leadership class, the ones entrusted with protecting Western values, failed to do so. The most troubling aspect of this failure is their inability to see that this surge of anti-Semitism is part of a broader hostility toward Western values.
Anti-Semitism is a disease that has festered for millennia, and no matter how many laws we pass, it will never be cured. But we can keep the illness at bay, and we must. If we have any hope of preserving the principles that underpin our civilization, we cannot afford to be passive. If we falter—if Israel falters—we risk losing not just this battle, but the soul of the West.
Photo by GIL COHEN-MAGEN/AFP via Getty Images