When the peace and harmony of Shabbat concluded and we learned the news of an assassination attempt on Donald Trump, among my many thoughts was the question: What If?
A series of anthologies titled, “What If? The World's Foremost Historians Imagine What Might Have Been,” examines turning points in history and what might have been if particular moments had gone differently. One moment that broke differently at Poitiers in 1356, at Gettysburg in 1863, or in Berlin in 1945, could have altered the entire tapestry of modern history. So, what if? What if Donald Trump had not turned his head at the last moment and instead of being shot on the tip of his ear, was assassinated as the shooter intended? Would a dangerous and irreparable division have resulted, with violent and grave consequences for the country? Who would have replaced Trump as the Republican presidential nominee and how would the election have been impacted?
Reflecting on his brush with death, Trump said it was “G-d alone who prevented the unthinkable from happening.” President Biden called on Americans to “lower the temperature” in politics and said that Americans “must stand together.” Trump said that the miracle is motivation to pivot to a message of unity. While the assassination attempt was the act of an individual, many are blaming the level of rhetoric and extremist language in politics on both sides. Comparisons to the most evil men in history, descriptions of a threat to democracy, claims that the election is a matter of life or death, create an atmosphere that is not only toxic, but clearly dangerous.
Many blame the 1995 murder of Prime Minister Yitzchak Rabin, the head of the Labor Party, on incitement from his political adversaries and their followers. Others are concerned today with the relentless inflammatory language levelled at current Prime Minister, Bibi Netanyahu, the head of Likud.
Both in Israel and America, each side points a finger at the other, blames the other, and calls on the other side to improve. An objective observer will conclude that the left and right in both countries have contributed to the poisonous and perilous polemics and that neither side adequately calls out their own for what they contribute to the noxious atmosphere, even while calling for unity themselves. Politicians and political parties profit off the industry of extreme and inflammatory language. Anger and fear generate outrage, which translates to dollars and to votes. But it also leads to division, hate and – as we were reminded this week – even to violence.
Ultimately, it is up to each and every one of us to turn down the temperature, to be sensitive to and regulate how we speak, what we say, and the tone we take. We, the people, must recognize our own autonomy and take ownership over how we interact. We can and must model how to disagree agreeably, how to debate and discuss ideas and policies, and not repeat, promote or advance ad hominem attacks against people.
King Solomon’s insight in Proverbs (18:21): “Death and life are determined by the tongue,” feels particularly poignant this week. Soon, we will begin to observe the Three Weeks culminating in Tisha B’Av, the most inauspicious day on our calendar marking the destruction of both Temples in Jerusalem and the countless calamities and suffering in our history. Our rabbis taught that the cause of our millennia-long exile was sinat chinam, baseless hatred that can be traced all the way back to the dispute between Joseph and his brothers.
The Torah tells us that Joseph’s brothers hated him to the point that v’lo yachlu dabro l’shalom – and they could not speak to him peaceably” (Genesis 37:4). The Ibn Ezra explains, “they could not speak to him peaceably – l’shalom to mean that they couldn’t even greet him with “Shalom.” It wasn’t just that they couldn’t talk about the issues they disagreed about, or that they didn’t want to be close, loving brothers. The hatred and intolerance had grown so deep that they couldn’t stand to even extend greetings to one another or to be in a room together.
When we disagree with people, we withdraw from them and stop speaking to them. We see them as “the other,” different and apart from us. As our communication breaks down, the dividers rise up higher and we can’t find a way to break through them. Achieving peace and harmony means bending towards those on the right of us and those on the left of us, acknowledging them, engaging them, and making space for them. The antidote is in our hands and we remind ourselves of it three times a day when we pray. Our practice of taking three steps backward at the conclusion of the Amidah comes from the Talmud which states, “One who prays must take three steps back and only then pray for peace” (Yoma 53). Rabbi Menachem BenZion Zaks explains that we cannot pray for, nor achieve, peace if we are not willing to step back a little and make room for others and their opinions, tastes, and personalities. After literally stepping back, we ask, “Oseh shalom bimromav, G-d, please bring peace,” and we then turn to our right and to our left. Achieving peace and harmony means bending towards those on the right of us and those on the left of us, acknowledging them, engaging them, and making space for them. That is a prerequisite to the shalom, the peace we crave.
In America and in Israel there are so many issues that deserve legitimate, vociferous debate. From elections to army service, from gun control to abortion, from judicial reform to religious coercion, there are complicated issues with multiple perspectives. They elicit strong emotion and passionate positions, but they cannot and must not sow irreversible division. We cannot allow our differences and strong opinions to make us unable to say hello to one another, or to see someone we disagree with as “the other.”
We cannot allow the feelings of unity and togetherness that followed October 7 to vanish or fade away. We can point a finger at others for how they have returned to rhetoric, or just like when you point an actual finger, we can recognize there are three pointing back at ourselves and take responsibility for our role and contribution to conversations.
As we approach the Three Weeks, don’t just ask and ponder “What if” about the assassination attempt on Donald Trump. Ask what if we all took responsibility for how we speak, for keeping the focus on policies and issues, and not on people, for avoiding language that inflames and incites and instead using language that persuades and influences. What if we looked to our right and to our left religiously, politically, and in every other way and brought the great blessing of peace by bowing to what we have in common, rather than what divides. What if.
