Op/Ed: We are living in a moment of moral complexity

by Paul Jaye

(AJNews) – We Jews are known as the people of the book. We’ve taken the mitzvot, the commandments in the Torah, and found new meaning, making them relevant for every generation. There are mitzvot that require millennia of careful exegesis to reveal their depth, and there are mitzvot that demand action, obvious on their face. There is a passage in Vayikra, the book of Leviticus, that offers a concise and unqualified commandment:

“Do not stand idly by the blood of your neighbor.” (Vayikra 19:16)

The Torah does not specify whether the neighbour is a friend or an enemy, innocent or accused, part of our people or a stranger to us. It simply commands us: do not be passive in the face of suffering. That imperative applies in moments of clarity, but perhaps even more in moments of moral complexity.

We are living in such a moment.

The world saw the horror of October 7. Civilians murdered, maimed and kidnapped, women brutalized, families destroyed. Hamas showed itself not only to be a political adversary of Israel, but an organization committed to destruction. Its ideology rejects coexistence. Its tactics violate every principle of justice and human dignity. There can be no moral ambiguity about this: Hamas cannot be allowed to continue, subjecting Israel to terror, and subjugating Gazans.

Hamas has brought immense suffering: to Israelis, through acts of terror and brutality; to Palestinians, whom they claim to represent while exploiting and endangering them; and to all who yearn for peace, by weaponizing fear and deepening division. Their use of violence is not only a political failure but a moral betrayal, sacrificing countless lives in the pursuit of power, with devastating consequences for Jews and Muslims alike.

Not every Gazan is Hamas. Not every man, woman, and child caught in this catastrophe is complicit. Millions of civilians in Gaza are not fighting, not supporting terrorism, they are simply trying to survive. They are starving and  dehydrated, suffering without access to medicine.

To fail to distinguish between Hamas and the people they exploit is not only strategically short-sighted. It is morally corrosive.

The Torah teaches us that each person is accountable for their own actions. “Parents shall not be put to death for their children, nor children for their parents.” (Devarim 24:16) This is more than a legal standard,  it is a moral one. Collective punishment is not justice. It is a distortion of it.

If we believe in Jewish ethics, if we carry within us the memory of being a people trapped behind fences, starving in ghettos, walled into death, then we cannot see the images coming out of Gaza and feel nothing. We must be able to say two things at the same time: that Israel has a right, even a duty, to eliminate the threat of Hamas, and that we, as Jews, are bound never to be indifferent to the suffering of innocents.

As Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. insisted, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” When human dignity is crushed, whether in Sderot or Rafah, the moral fabric of the world is torn. And when we grow numb to the suffering of others, we risk losing something essential in ourselves.

This is not about political ideology. It is about the sanctity of human life. It is about our obligation to be both strong and just, both courageous and compassionate.

So what can we do?

We can support the right of Israel to defend itself, while also insisting that humanitarian aid reach those who need it.

We can call for real accountability for Hamas, while refusing to let Gazan civilians become invisible.

We can speak clearly and publicly against antisemitism and against the dehumanization of Palestinians.

To be Jewish is to walk a difficult path, to wrestle with complexity, to grieve, to protect, and to act. We are commanded to remember not only what was done to us, but what we owe to others when power is in our hands.

We are not asked to choose between protecting our own and caring for others. We are commanded to do both. We are not asked to abandon justice in favour of mercy, or mercy in favour of justice. We are told to hold them in tension, because that tension is the heart of Torah.

And when we are asked, what did we do when terror threatened, when civilians suffered, when children starved, let our answer be:

We did not look away.

We did not stay silent.

We acted to protect the sanctity of life, because if we are in fact a light unto all nations, then seeing the humanity in our neighbour, and protecting the vulnerable and the weak is both our birthright and our obligation.

As a committed Zionist, Paul Jaye embraces a vision of Israel that is just, pluralistic, and democratic, a homeland that reflects our highest ideals.