Hanukkah starts at sundown. Festival of lights is the antidote to antisemitism. | Opinion

On Sunday I attended a joyous celebration completing a new Torah scroll with Lubavitch of Wisconsin. The Jewish Federation also participated. It was emotional and personal since the Torah was dedicated to my deceased grandparents, Rueven and Leah Helman, for the people of Israel, and as a symbol of resilience for Jews worldwide facing discrimination. 

Recently UW-Milwaukee activists chanted “from the river to the sea, Palestine will be free” along with “by any means necessary” making it abundantly clear that it isn’t about peaceful resistance. (Editor's note: Jewish people consider the slogan antisemitic, a call for a Palestinian state extending from the Jordan River to the Mediterranean Sea. They see it as advocating for the removal of the Jewish state.) Several weeks ago in Madison, neo-Nazis marched, brandishing swastika flags. 

The Torah is the foundational guide for Jewish people. World religions revere it, and it’s influenced the founding of American democracy. Exodus recounts how the Ten Commandments were given on Mount Sinai. The name “sinai” is virtually identical to the Hebrew word “sinah” which means hatred. This, says the Talmud, was a foretelling that the moral and ethical values the Torah gave civilization would engender hatred.  

Hanukkah, celebrated this week, is the antidote to that antisemitism. The menorah is lit in public because the best method of fighting hatred is to engage openly and proudly, not hide our identity in Synagogues or behind closed doors. Post-Oct. 7 we’ve seen a resurgence of Jewish pride. My agnostic Jewish neighbor now proudly displays the Israeli flag and plans on attending a menorah lighting ceremony at my home.  

Hanukkah's story mirrors narrative of founding of Israel

The story of the Maccabees victory over the oppressive Seleucid Empire mirrors the narrative of Israel’s founding. The menorah is also Israel’s national emblem and is found on coins dating back to 40 BCE. After the 1948 War of Independence, premier David Ben Gurion declared that, “Israel’s Army continues the Maccabean fight for liberation and independence.” 

Israel’s deep connection to Hanukkah is also reflected in its Maccabiah Olympics, named after Judah Maccabee, who fought and won Israel's independence. My grandfather was a proud Maccabiah Olympian, winning medals in weightlifting and competing in the 1953 and 1957 decathlon. 

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The Maccabees established the Hasmonean dynasty after defeating Antiochus and his Hellenized Jewish supporters, but soon encountered turmoil due to its consolidation of powers. Despite the Torah requiring separate roles for king and high priest, the Hasmonean dynasty combined those powers.

Rabbi Jonathan Sachs opines how the role of “king” represents state powers and “priest” represents religion. In combining church-state, they not only flouted traditional Jewish governance but also set the stage for conflicts of interest and abuse of power.

While the Talmud preserves the story of the oil miracle and the Temple’s rededication, the problematic rule under the Hasmonean dynasty are largely contained in the apocryphal Book of Maccabees which was excluded from the Hebrew Bible canon, suggesting the rabbis recognized that corrupt political power didn’t represent Judaism.

Soon after the Hasmoneans’ rise, the Second Temple was destroyed, but Hanukkah and the Torah’s spiritual message endure. This undying message transcends time and place. The Lubavitcher Rebbe emphasized that the Torah was given in the ownerless Sinai wilderness to teach that it belongs to everyone. The Book is an inheritance.  

Menorah candle brings light to the darkest nights

Poet and literary critic Adam Kirsch explains that books and knowledge took the place of monuments, battle sites, and even temples, in the Jewish diaspora. Harvard historian Harry Wolfson once noted the uniqueness of Judaism, saying: “As far as I know, we are the only people who, when we drop a book on the floor, we pick it up and kiss it.”

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As I danced and kissed the Torah at Chabad of Wisconsin, I realized how unusual this might appear to outsiders. Imagine entering the Supreme Court and seeing justices dancing with the constitution or Congress members dancing with legislative texts? But then it struck me how the secret of Jewish survival is love of knowledge, and the living practice of Judaism, embodied in the Torah’s timeless messages of hope. 

In the memory of my grandparents and for future generations, I’m committed to preserving those sacred texts and keeping that flame alive like the Menorah candle shining in the darkest nights. 

Eli Federman is a graduate of Marquette University who resides in Florida. He has written for USA Today, Wall Street Journal, Daily News, Reuters, and others. X: @elifederman