There is a story – I cannot remember where I heard it – about a village where the well was cursed by an angry magician. Anyone who drank from its water immediately became mad. They became violent and hostile. They were certain of things that could not possibly be true – but when anyone challenged them on their delusions – they flew into a furious rage.
The royals of this town had their own water source. When they tried to talk to their subjects, they were the ones who were deemed mad. They could not govern, because all the villagers, having drunk from the well, saw their leaders as insane. So, the king and his family went down to the cursed well and drank from it themselves, so that they, too, would be afflicted with insanity, but at least able to retain their power.
In the immediate weeks after October 7th, this story repeated in my mind relentlessly.
When Jews met each other, they immediately scoped each other out. We asked: how are you feeling? Where are you on this?
But the question we were really asking was: have you drunk from the well?
Have you thrown yourself into the grip of the madness that demands war?
At a friend’s house, another Jewish religious leader, having made sure everyone in the room had not swallowed the poisoned water, said: “don’t worry, this happens sometimes. People get angry and frightened and turn to violence, but… it passes. They will calm down.”
So we hunkered down and waited. Waited for the effects of the maddening well of war to wear off.
A ceasefire and a hostage deal. Those were the words coming from everyone who had not drunk from the well.
“One day,” we said, “everyone will say they always opposed this.”
“And, when they do, we will not begrudge them for it. We will just be happy to have the killing over.”
I wondered when the day would come. When people would finally come to their senses and say that enough was enough.
Within days, the death toll in Gaza exceeded any number of any previous war. Then, in weeks, it reached into the thousands. Then tens of thousands. It seemed that the numbers dead only made the mad more ravenous.
And we, who said it should stop, were ever more out of sync with our society; ever more criminally insane.
A ceasefire and a hostage deal. It was a basic humanitarian position that guaranteed everyone got to live. It would bring the captives home and stop the massacre of Gaza.
There were moments, even, when they demonstrated what could be. Temporary ceasefires with limited hostage releases. But, even then, the drive to war was insatiable.
I have asked myself many searching questions over the last eighteen months. Increasingly, the one that pains me is: what happens the day after this all ends, when my people finally awaken from their stupor? What will Jews and Judaism have become when the effects of the well wear off and everyone finally sees what happened?
There have been so many needless deaths. So much unfathomable destruction. So many dreams have been killed.
Now, I think that people are finally shaking the madness. I feel I can talk more openly, and I see others doing the same.
I feel ashamed. I feel like I did not do enough to prevent this. I wish I had been louder and bolder from the start. I wish I had been prepared for this, so I wouldn’t be shocked by it. I regret having turned away from watching at times, unable to bear the pain.
And you? How are you feeling now? Where are you on this?
I have a feeling that, after a year and a half, something is finally changing. Now it seems like the ripple of peace may become an anti-war wave. Maybe now the cleansing waters of truth will finally come and dilute all the curses of the well.
If you are one of the people who feels like your heart is beginning to turn, you are not alone.
I do not begrudge you. Trauma does that. Anger and fear can break you, and you don’t know how and when it will happen.
I am just happy that the killing may finally come to an end.
Now there is even more trauma to heal. Now there is even more peace to pursue.
We have been waiting for you. We are still waiting for you.
But the well is still there.
The war machine is still waiting for you, too.
Sim Lev 