Today is Yom HaShoah. But it’s not any Yom HaShoah. It’s the first Holocaust Remembrance Day since Hamas attacked Israel last October 7, an event which has ignited yet more antisemitism across the United States and has divided college students, left-leaning people, and even (perhaps I should say, especially) Jews.

I experienced this during a Torah study session last Saturday, as members of our mostly liberal Reform congregation went off-topic and debated (gently, I’m relieved to say) the campus protests, the ongoing massacres in Gaza committed against Palestinians by the Israeli Defense Forces, and even the idea of a two-state solution.

As horrible as Hamas has been and continues to be, as horrifying and genocidal as is the chant “from the river to the sea,” as hard as it is to imagine a Palestinian state coexisting peacefully alongside Israel, the two-state solution is the only outcome that doesn’t absolutely guarantee both an increasingly repressive, anti-democratic and morally corrupt Jewish autocracy, and war without end.

Josh Marshall, the Jewish progressive publisher of Talking Points Memo, a month ago put the current situation into perspective:

“A big reason we are here in the current standoff over Rafah is that the current Israeli government has steadfastly refused to make any plans for what happens after this war concludes.”

That’s where we stand today as Jews, most of whom are powerless to affect the outcome. I think Likud has already written off American Jews as a source of both moral and financial support, so our outrage or persistent expressions of desire will be largely ignored.

We will never have an answer to “but you don’t live here under constant threat of terrorism” or “this is our 9/11, only with a larger percentage of people directly affected.”

I know this, we know this.

And yet, morality doesn’t change according to geography. Morality doesn’t change based on convenience or even probability. Just because a two-state solution seems unlikely to succeed isn’t a reason to abandon it as an option. Just because out enemy is implacable and genocidal doesn’t mean we have to be as well.

Nazi Germany was defeated, and soundly, but there was a time in the 1930s and early 1940s when that outcome was seen as unlikely at best. Germany was superbly armed, and seemed unified in its mission and ruthlessly efficient in the performance of its goals.

Nazi Germany was defeated by a coalition of disorganized, democratically managed, “soft” people who simply refused to let them win. And along the way, there were people who took extraordinary risks to help Jews escape the genocide that killed so many of us.

I myself am alive today only thanks to the heroism of Paul Mirat, who as mayor of the small town of Meillon allowed my father to live in his home rather than the pestiferous concentration camp to which he was assigned, allowed him to write letters and fill out visa applications and, eventually, to escape to Cuba along with his wife and son.

I understand the argument for trying to wipe out Hamas at any cost. It’s a great idea except that it is immoral, impractical, and serves only one thing – and that is the body of Benjamin Netanyahu.

If Israel attacks Rafah and commits yet more atrocities, it will earn the opprobrium of the entire world (and I know it doesn’t care about that). More than that, though, it will lose all moral authority going forward. It will no longer be able to claim ownership over the term “genocide.” It will forfeit any further movement in its direction from Arab nations that are increasingly willing to abide its existence (and thus reduce its need to constantly arm itself). It will lose many friends – Turkey will not be the only instance of neutral Islamic nations to shun it. It will further divide the Jewish people, many of whom, both inside Israel and without, see what it is doing in our name and are ashamed.

This post is in no way a plea for peace – no one who can make peace happen is reading it.

This post is a plea to remember on this Yom HaShoah who we are. To meditate on what we want our Jewish legacy to be in the 21^st century, to treat each other and our non-Jewish planetary cohabitants with empathy and respect, and to remember not only the atrocities committed against us, but to forgive (not forget), to acknowledge those who have made amends, to thank those that came to our rescue in our time of greatest need, and to extend the hand of peace to those who hate us.