The importance of solidarity with those under fire in Israel

I am currently studying the concluding pages of Bava Batra, where the Talmud considers, to derive a proof for something else, when the disqualification of one witness invalidates the testimony of all others. This is the principle of kat achat, collective testimony, where witnesses form one unit, therefore sharing a collective fate.

In this model, if just one witness is unfit then so is the entire group, even if most are kosher. If, however, witnesses testify separately as individuals with their own agency, the disqualification of one does not automatically destroy the testimony of the others.

My study has been against the backdrop of frequent conversations with my daughters living in Tel Aviv, often punctuated or cut short by sirens and their urgent need to shelter, while my computer flashes with news updates. The conflict with Iran is now ever present in all our lives, more viscerally and immediate for some than others. On Purim, the symbolism couldn’t have been more stark but what of the searing moment in this week’s parsha, Ki Tisa, when we read of the catastrophic idolatry of the Golden Calf and Moses’ extraordinary response?

Moses pleads to Hashem on behalf of the Children of Israel: “So now, if You will (but) endure their sin – but if not, erase me from Your book that You wrote.” This is more than advocacy – Moses binds his fate to the collective. Commentaries differ but converge on one truth: Moses refuses to accept a future in which he is preserved but Israel discarded. This is leadership as radical solidarity—and speaks directly to this moment.

Why would anyone choose, as Moses did, such a glaring vulnerability that leaves you impacted by the actions of others? Why abandon the agency to stand or fall on your individual merits, to embrace a collective that can be brought down by the failings of one? The answer, I think, is in what the collective makes possible.

Jewish law distinguishes between eidei birur (generally witnesses with individual agency)—witnesses who merely report what happened- and eidei kiyum (generally witnesses with collective agency)- witnesses who don’t just record reality but create it. At a wedding, two witnesses must be present, not only to prove the marriage occurred but to make it a marriage in the first place. Without them there is no marriage even if all the other requirements are met. Transformative change needs the collective.

As Israel and the United States launched pre-emptive strikes against Iran, they demonstrated strength and operational genius, killing Ayatollah Khamenei and other senior officials, seeking to degrade Iran’s offensive capabilities and create potential for regime change. Now, our people in Israel are once again summoning their resilience as Iran’s missiles rain down.

I confess I have concerns about this campaign. Not about confronting Iran per se – which has spread terror, murdered Israelis and Jews and been an existential threat for decades. Simultaneously it has brutalised its people and the region, murdering tens of thousands of protesters this year alone. In London, the sight of the local Iranian community that has stood with Jews facing antisemitism, taking to our shared streets to celebrate the removal of their tormentor was profoundly moving.

But despite the emotion of the moment, valid strategic questions remain. What does “victory” mean? Regime change sounds compelling, but is it in the universe of the possible? What opposition force can topple the Iranian military and IRGC (which by the way, is still, unfathomably, not proscribed in the UK). So, while the air campaign delivers breath-taking tactical successes, the regime, though weakened, could remain entrenched and renew its capabilities under similar leadership with the prospect of yet more war, death and destruction in the future. Is there a deliverable strategy, or is it hope dressed up as a plan, as I fear it might be, while hoping I am wrong.

Yet notwithstanding both these misgivings and my profound and oft-stated dislike of this Israeli government and its policies, whose assault on liberal democracy I have opposed, whose treatment of Palestinians I have condemned, whose judicial coup I have fought—I stand with Israel in this conflict.

Why? Because I owe a duty to the collective.

This is Moses’ lesson and the lesson of kat achat. Moses abhorred the golden calf. He smashed the tablets in fury, executed the ringleaders and rebuked the people. But when Hashem said, “I will destroy them,” Moses said, “Then destroy me too.” He bound his fate to theirs, as ours is bound to Israel’s.

So, I stand with Israel. Not because the strategy is perfect or the government wise – I have not abandoned my criticisms or convictions. But because when Israel is under attack, Iranian and Hezbollah missiles are striking Israeli cities, and our brothers and sisters and sons and daughters are in shelters, I will not stand apart. Saying “This is not my fight because I disagree with the government,” is not my Zionism and not my Torah. When you bind yourself to a people, you accept the times you will be called to stand with them even when you disagree with their choices.

The vulnerability and risk of the collective is that a passive majority can be corralled by more active but compromised elements into a space that threatens their own values.   Standing with the collective does not mean surrendering your voice, abandoning your principles or pretending that the compromised witness is not compromised.

This is the tension we must hold. We stand with Israel in this conflict, not just because it is being waged against a brutal and abhorrent foe, but because we are part of the collective.

We do not stop saying that the Israeli government’s policies on democracy, on fairness and on the Palestinians are wrong. We do not stop working for change. We do not stop demanding that Israel live up to the values of its Declaration of Independence. And we must be ready for any new opportunities to advance our values that a weakened Iran presents.

The Islamic Republic of Iran is a clear and present threat to liberal democratic values everywhere and standing with Israel and the US against it is a no-brainer. But when we see those values under a different kind of attack from within, then whether in Israel or the Diaspora, we have both a right and duty to say so.

We do so as part of the kat achat. Because the integrity of the collective is stronger when we can all vouch for our testimony. And when one member of the collective is compromised, we neither abandon them nor pretend they are unblemished.

We stand with our people because if they go, we all go. Like Moses, we bind ourselves to our collective even when we disagree with some of their actions and have valid doubts about others. We surrender neither our voices nor values, not as external critics but as eidei kiyum – witnesses who can only harness the transformative power of the collective if we remain with it, and  work together toward collective restoration.

Sir Mick Davis is co-founder of The London Initiative and a former Chairman of the Jewish Leadership Council