Is it possible to look back on this year without despairing? What is needed in a world that is more divided by fear and hatred than at any time since the Second World War? On the first Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah, since the barbaric Hamas terror of October 7, we must reflect on the power of faith, the will to be humane, and the desire for peaceful coexistence on this earth.
This feels increasingly difficult, especially for us Jews. Even here in Germany. Aggressive Islamism is often appeased or downplayed in the name of a false sense of tolerance towards the intolerant. But Islamist terror is not just a Jewish issue; it is an attack on the Western world, on liberal democracy, on our open society. It is also directed against the large majority of Muslims who oppose this radicalism.
Hatred of Jews is part of this hate ideology, but it is not limited to them. If this is not understood soon and, much more importantly, acted upon, there will eventually be nothing left to defend. We need clear and honest politics that people understand, that they can engage with, and that seriously convey to them that we are there for them. Politics in a democracy must neither be ignorant nor must it intentionally or unintentionally conceal anything.
An ostrich tactic is already leading to the erosion of certainties that were assumed to be unchangeable. Not only is the door wide open for Muslim antisemitism or Islamist ideology, but alongside them—not as a side effect, but as part of a world of thought permeated with hate—a destructive right-wing extremism is pushing its way into our society and into our parliaments.
A normalization of right-wing extremist positions is taking place at all levels. In the past, the radical right-wing spectrum was characterized by mutual demarcation and fragmentation, but with the political success of the right-wing extremists, there are increasing clusters of groups. The parliamentary successes of the AfD have given them electoral significance—the right-wing extremists' strategy of presenting themselves as the only true voice of the "common people" is paying off.
In doing so, they are trying, not least, to delegitimize the voices of those who are directly threatened by right-wing extremism. What is being called into question is what constitutes the essence of an open society: the certainty that others can also be right and that human coexistence is essential. Our democracy, our idea of freedom, lives on conditions that it cannot guarantee itself.
This is what constitutional lawyer Ernst-Wolfgang Böckenförde wrote about the secularized state. Without the comprehensive binding power of religions, the tendency toward morality is essential in Western societies if they do not want to fall back into authoritarian claims of totality, Böckenförde continued. This invisible bond that holds our society together is becoming increasingly fragile.
We need a defense of morality – now.
If people only move in preconceived worlds of opinion on social media, then this important cohesion erodes. The media and politics have played this game too often in recent months. We need a defense of morality now. Liberal democracies are not simple forms of government; extremists of all stripes exploit this to propagate the supposed advantages of authoritarian forms.
What can the Jewish contribution be to this? Let us look at ourselves: what else can we Jews do but be at peace with ourselves? Let us be aware of the deep roots of Judaism in a philosophy of justice. The sayings of the fathers say: "No one who seduces the crowd to do what is right will sin have any power over him. No one who seduces the crowd to sin will have any opportunity to turn back" (5:18.1).
Let us take this to heart as we enter the new year 5785. Let us think of the solidarity of our community, which gives us hope and faith. There is something particularly invigorating about the High Holidays—the communal reflection in the synagogue—shoulder to shoulder. It gives our community a soul. This feeling is so important to us. Let us carry it out of our homes and beyond this time. Let us blow the shofar so that everyone can hear it.
We can make a difference with this belief in ourselves. I do not want to lose that faith. Religion and religious communities may no longer be able to create a bond within society as a whole in our time—that is also the point that Böckenförde is making.
But a secularized state is not a state without religion. Religions, or the idea of religion, are an elementary component of an open society. They shape it, give it moderation, and they have the ability to show our community a direction far beyond their mere existence. They not only give each individual support but also protect us from what the philosopher and political scientist Eric Voegelin called "political religion": fanaticism and fantasies of redemption, extremism, and totalitarianism.
Rosh Hashanah is the beginning of Teshuvah, a time in which we examine ourselves until we reconcile ourselves and others on Yom Kippur. During these days we will think a lot about the pain, anger, and despair—feelings that gripped us all in the days following the Hamas massacre on October 7. But we will not let them determine us. What has happened obliges us to a strength that allows us to look forward—a strength that believes in ourselves and in the good in the world.
With this in mind, I wish you and your families Shana Tova Umetuka!
This editorial was originally published in German in Jüdische Allgemeine.
