5786 → 5787”

As 5786 gives way to 5787, Jewish communities around the world mark Rosh Hashanah—a new year shaped not simply by celebration, but by reflection, renewal and hope. Apples dipped in honey express the wish for sweetness in the year ahead; the sounding of the shofar calls us to wake up, take stock and consider what we might do better. It is an ancient tradition with a remarkably contemporary message: the future is never entirely beyond our influence.

The zeitgeist—the spirit of our times—is unsettled. These are difficult years, and there is little value pretending otherwise. But history is a marathon, not a sprint. We play the set of cards we are dealt, not the ones we might have wished to receive. The measure of us is what we choose to do with them.

For many Jews across the global diaspora, the past few years have also brought a profound awakening. For a time, arguments advanced by voices such as Norman Finkelstein persuaded some that liberal values and support for the Jewish state were travelling on increasingly divergent paths. The optimism of the post-Cold War “end of history” era encouraged the belief that old hatreds were fading and that security, identity and national self-defence might eventually become relics of another age.

History caught up.

For many, October 7 and everything that followed shattered that illusion. The lesson has not been to abandon liberal democracy, pluralism or compassion, but to understand that these things survive only when people are prepared to defend them. The Jewish state, Jewish communities and the values of the democratic West are not made safer by wishing threats away.

Many decent people throughout Australia and the wider West have not yet reached that same tipping point. But something is moving. We can sense the gathering storm, and our task is not despair. We educate. We explain. We support. We build understanding one substantive conversation at a time.

And we should not allow the haters to set the tempo of our lives. Taylor Swift offered pretty good advice for a Jewish New Year: the “haters gonna hate.” Shake it off. Keep moving. Keep building. Keep choosing life.

There will be setbacks. There will be difficult days. But there will also be friendships formed, minds changed, courage rediscovered and light carried from one person to another.

May 5787 be sweeter, stronger and brighter than the year that came before it.

To Light. To Life.

The provided text views the Jewish New Year through the lens of collective Jewish survival and the necessity of defending Israel after October 7, whereas a critical assessment from the people of Gaza and Nakba survivors sees this narrative as a painful justification for their ongoing displacement and suffering. [1]

The Perspective from Gaza

Erasing the Blockade: The text describes October 7 as an unexpected shock that ended an era of false security. People in Gaza note that this view ignores the years of tight blockades, poverty, and military control that they lived under before that date. [1]
Minimizing Destruction: Lines like "we play the set of cards we are dealt" treat state violence as an abstract game. In Gaza, those "cards" are translated into massive airstrikes, flattened neighborhoods, and the loss of tens of thousands of civilian lives. [1]
Defense as Aggression: The author calls for standing strong to defend the state. For a Gazan under fire, that state defense means total military destruction and a lack of basic survival needs like food, water, and medicine. [1]

The Perspective from Nakba Survivors

The Root of Exile: For Palestinians expelled during the 1948 Nakba, the creation and defense of the Jewish state is not a noble liberal project. It is the historical event that stole their homes, villages, and lands, turning them into permanent refugees. [1]
Hollow Traditions: Wishing for a "sweet" new year with apples and honey feels deeply contradictory to refugees whose lives remain bitter because they cannot return home. [1]
Dismissing Legitimate Grips: The text quotes pop culture to say "haters gonna hate" and tells readers to shake off critics. Nakba survivors argue that labeling genuine human rights protests and opposition to occupation as mere "hatred" is a way to avoid moral responsibility for historical injustice