Jewish educators must go beyond slogans and statements — even when it comes to war with Iran

by David Bryfman

(JTA) — I have spent much of my life living in, traveling to, and learning about Israel. Like many who care deeply about the Jewish state, I hold strong views on the political, social and geopolitical forces that shape its present and future. And yet, as a Jewish educator, I rarely voice those opinions publicly. Not because I lack conviction, but because conviction alone is not my lane.

My contribution — where I can add value in an already crowded and polarized discourse — is education.

That is why I write now, knowing full well that what follows may unsettle some who read it. The pedagogical implications of the war against Iran — particularly for educators who pose questions and facilitate discussion about preemptive strikes — may be labeled by some as unwarranted or even disloyal to the Jewish establishment (an establishment of which I am proudly a part). But education has never been about comfort. It has always been about courage.

Let me be unequivocally clear at the outset: My heart is with the people of Israel. Like many of you, I have friends, colleagues, and family members who are living under direct threat — running to shelters, enduring fear, exhaustion, and trauma. I am also deeply concerned for the lives of innocent Iranians and others across the Middle East whose lives have been brutalized by dictators for decades and who now find themselves at grave risk once again. And I hold profound respect and gratitude for the Israeli and American air forces, and for the military and intelligence professionals working — hopefully — to bring this conflict to a swift end and restore peace.

I refuse the false choice that demands only one of these hopes. Moral maturity allows us to hold several at once.

And precisely because this moment is so fraught, so emotional, and so consequential, educators — especially Jewish educators — have a responsibility that goes beyond slogans and statements. We must teach. Regardless of our personal views, we must engage our students — youth and adults alike — in serious learning about the moral, ethical, religious and legal implications of preemptive military action.

For those of us raised on the story of Israel’s preemptive strike in 1967 — the heroic opening move that made the Six-Day War a decisive victory — this may feel almost sacrilegious. To question preemption can sound, to some, like betrayal. But education demands that we ask the hard questions: Were the recent preemptive strikes by Israel and the United States lawful? Were they ethical? Under what frameworks — Jewish, international, moral — can they be justified, and where are those justifications contested?

To my Israeli friends, many of whom overwhelmingly support these strikes even knowing they would place their own lives in direct danger of retaliation: I hear you. I honor your courage and your resolve. And still, as educators, we must bring the debate itself into the classroom — not as provocation, but as preparation.

Because if we do not create thoughtful, guided, and humane spaces for grappling with these tensions, our students will encounter them anyway — on social media, in hallways, and on college campuses — where the discourse will be louder, harsher and far less forgiving.

Many communal leaders have already issued firm, unequivocal statements. That is their role. Education is different. Education acknowledges that this is a matter of genuine disagreement and rigorous debate. It recognizes that adults have had decades of learning and lived experience to arrive at their conclusions — and that students deserve the same opportunity.

To deny disagreement where it exists is naïve. To avoid teaching it is worse. It is mis-educative.

So I implore my fellow educators: Embrace the challenge. Present diverse perspectives with intellectual honesty and moral seriousness. Model respect. Invite disagreement — not to fracture community, but to deepen understanding. Disagreement, when handled well, is not a threat to education; it is one of its most powerful tools.

Be brave. Do not fear that your students may arrive at conclusions different from your own. That fear has haunted educators for millennia. But the purpose of education is not replication. It is formation. We are not here to create replicas of ourselves, but to help learners become who they are meant to become.

And be better than the adult world that so often surrounds our students. Do not allow name-calling, othering or moral absolutism to replace inquiry and empathy. The sanctity of education depends on this — and so does our hope for a better future.

To communal leaders, funders and supporters of Jewish education: I beg you to set aside partisan instincts for the sake of educational integrity. If one of our core responsibilities is to prepare young people for the world they inhabit, then we must do so precisely when the stakes are highest. And they could not be higher than they are now.

There are serious, credible arguments on multiple sides of the question of whether preemptive strikes against Iran were warranted, legal and ethical. To shut down debate by insinuating that dissent renders someone unfit for communal life or institutional belonging is not an educational posture. It echoes, uncomfortably, the very authoritarian impulses we claim to oppose.

Education is inherently political. It can never be partisan.

As Jewish educators, we have a profound responsibility to stand with the Jewish people and with the State of Israel. But to truly support our youth and young adults in this moment, we must teach them how to encounter complexity, not hide from it. We must teach them “the other side” — whatever form that takes in this painful and unfolding chapter — even when it is uncomfortable.

Especially when it is uncomfortable. Am Yisrael Chai.

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of JTA or its parent company, 70 Faces Media.