It has been an impossible week for Jews around the world.
After Hamas’ Saturday terror attacks on southern Israel, Jews have been understandably distraught and afraid.
So many took to social media, to doom scroll for news, yes, but also to reach for each other.
American Jews, after years of intensified antisemitism even here, hoped for solidarity from their friends and neighbors.
Some found it, but for many there was a blanket of silence for several days as celebrities and influencers very carefully considered whether they should offer support to the country that just saw 1,200 of its people slaughtered in a horrifically brutal manner.
There were little fires everywhere.
Kylie Jenner posted a message of support for Israel and then deleted it after pressure from commenters.
Think about that: “The Kardashians” star couldn’t post a generic message backing a country that had just suffered a mass attack on civilians.
She could not provide even the most limited comfort after we watched ordinary people killed in such an extraordinary way.
New York restaurateur Keith McNally posted a photo to Instagram of Hamas rockets heading for Israel with the caption “The More Utterly Repugnant The Facts, The Greater The Responsibility Becomes To Listen To The Other Side.”
Well, the facts are repugnant.
Babies were killed in their beds. Teenagers slaughtered at a music festival.
Who else gets told to listen to those who want them dead?
Listen to the people who did this? No, thanks.
Not every celebrity has to speak out about every cause, of course, but it was more than a little suspicious that those who do speak out constantly were suddenly very quiet.
For liberal Jews, the situation was even tougher.
They had so diligently protested for all the right causes, yet stood completely alone now.
Chicago’s Black Lives Matters branch mocked Israelis’ pain with a stylized drawing of a paraglider and a message of support for Hamas.
Paragliding is how some of the terrorists entered Israel from Gaza and were able to murder so many people.
Liberal Jews should finally take the lesson that they’re in last place in the Victim Olympics and maybe choose another sport.
Many Jews posted on Facebook and Instagram noting the silence from people they had counted on.
It wasn’t a heartbreak — that was Saturday — but it was an extra slap in the face.
A line attributed to Martin Luther King Jr. circulated: “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies but the silence of our friends.”
Even the Jews lucky to have the support of their non-Jewish friends and community have spent the week like zombies.
The waves of bad news have been so hard. The decisions complicated.
Which vigil would be safest to attend, since Jews in groups seem like a target now?
Should kids skip school on the global “Day of Jihad” planned Friday or should we continue to live our lives as normally as possible?
So many of us have family and close friends in Israel. We know the choices we have to make here pale in comparison to the ones they make there.
The local Chabad (a Jewish outreach organization) in my south Florida community organized a prayer vigil Wednesday night.
Follow along with The Post’s coverage of Israel’s war with Hamas
- Hamas chief says a ‘truce agreement’ and hostage exchange with Israel is close
- Hamas captives spill secrets about operating from hospitals: ‘We became their human shields’
- How many aid groups knew Hamas was hiding in a hospital and lied about it?
- Israel war live updates: Follow along for The Post’s latest coverage
A sheriff had to be present because Jews in prayer are in danger.
Among other prayers we said one for “people in captivity.”
The faces of the Jews stolen to Gaza keep me up at night.
The redheaded children with their mother, so like my own kids.
The young woman on the motorbike.
The old lady on the cart, her legs covered with a blanket, her resolved face, stays on my mind.
And still, when the prayers were over Wednesday night we joined together and sang “Oseh Shalom,” a song that literally means “Make Peace.”
We sing it at weddings and holidays. Small children sing it at Jewish school.
We were making peace, but war came to us.
We were making peace, and now we can make it no longer.
Your Jewish friends are broken and hurting.
We have seen things we cannot unsee and pictured our own selves lying on the floor or taken by the enemy.
We are squeezing our children tightly and constantly drying our tears.
And yes, we see those who say words of comfort, publicly or privately, and we see those who won’t.
Twitter: @Karol