A Future Worthy of Our Past

Next week, we will observe Yom HaZikaron, Israel’s official memorial day for fallen soldiers and victims of terrorism, followed by Yom HaAtzmaut, Israel’s Independence Day.

Together, these three days, Israel’s National Days, form a powerful arc. They tell the story of a people who have endured unimaginable pain, loss, and persecution, but who also found hope, resilience, and renewal through statehood.

They are not just historical markers. They chart the evolution of Jewish identity, survival, and sovereignty.

Yom HaShoah reminds us of the dangers of statelessness, of being stripped of rights, and of the horrific consequences of hate and authoritarianism.

Yom HaZikaron asks us to remember the cost of reclaiming our agency, of defending our right to live as a nation among nations. It is a day that mourns lives lost in the pursuit of freedom and safety.

Then, at sundown, the grief gives way to celebration with Yom HaAtzmaut, a transition that is both emotional and symbolic. We honour not only the lives sacrificed, but also the birth of a homeland that continues to welcome refugees, protect Jews fleeing persecution, and (hopefully) offer a safe haven for generations to come.

Yet, there is a profound distinction between the two days of mourning and the day of celebration. Yom HaShoah and Yom HaZikaron look back - at stories of loss, heroism, and survival. But Yom HaAtzmaut is also about the future. It challenges us to consider not just how independence was won, but what we do with it now.

Power, unlike powerlessness, demands accountability. It brings agency, responsibility, and the burden of decision-making that affects countless lives. In this sense, Yom HaAtzmaut may be the most demanding of the three. It pushes us to think not only about survival, but about purpose.

Too often, especially in moments of conflict, like the war in Gaza, we default to the language of helplessness. Phrases like “we had no choice” or “what else could we have done?” reflect a deep-seated comfort in victimhood. They echo the trauma of our history, but risk obscuring our present-day power.

But we are no longer powerless. Just as we transition from mourning to celebration in Israel’s National Days, we must move from seeing ourselves only as victims to embracing our role as actors - with agency, influence, and responsibility.

Still, these days of remembrance should not be used to scold. Rather, they should inspire reflection. How do we, as a people shaped by tragedy and reborn in sovereignty, use our power today? How do we navigate that legacy?

Some struggle to acknowledge the shift from powerlessness to power. Others forget entirely that we were once powerless, ignoring how deeply that trauma shapes our collective psyche. True insight, and meaningful action, comes from recognizing both.

As we move through these National Days, we are reminded that memory is not only about honouring the past, it is also a blueprint for shaping the future.

Yom HaShoah and Yom HaZikaron compel us to mourn and remember. But they also ask us to consider how we bear the weight of our history with integrity, empathy, and purpose.

And as we arrive at Yom HaAtzmaut, we will be invited to envision a future that honors the sacrifices of the past not through repetition of fear, but through bold and ethical action. In holding both memory and meaning, we find the challenge, and the privilege, of building a future worthy of our history.