The Night Before

It is the night before Passover. An auspicious night. A night in which we search for the last traces of leavened bread, chametz. Chametz represents excess, inflation, ego. In war, that distinction becomes the line between necessary force and indulgent violence.

Modern threats like the Iranian regime are not just “another enemy.” They are ideological systems that openly call for destruction, suppress their own people, and project power across the region through proxies and force. Pharaoh and the Islamic Republic are not merely villains. They embody absolute power, convinced they answer to no one. That reality is deeply unsettling.

At the same time, key European allies are restricting U.S. military access to their airspace as the Trump administration and Israel press forward in confronting Iran. France and Spain have moved to block U.S.-linked aircraft from using their airspace or bases. Even more troubling, countries like France and Spain have imposed arms restrictions on Israel as it defends itself.

Frankly, this is staggering. Spain, with the legacy of the Spanish Inquisition, is in no position to pass judgment on the Jewish state. France, which collaborated in the deportation of Jews during the Holocaust, likewise stands on fragile moral ground. These nations, now expressing outrage, seem to forget that Iranian missiles are not theoretical. Iran has demonstrated capabilities that could threaten cities like London, Paris, Rome, and Milan.

And yet, echoes of Neville Chamberlain remain. Appeasement, one of the most disastrous policies in modern history, appears once again in European decision-making. Beyond Spain and France, much of Europe is struggling with internal fractures. Mass immigration, political instability, and a weakening sense of national identity have created environments where hostility toward Jews is repackaged as opposition to Zionism.

The same Europe that now limits Israel’s ability to defend itself once oversaw the slaughter of millions of Jews. Six million were murdered in an industrialized genocide unlike anything in human history. That legacy should inspire humility. Instead, it too often produces lectures.

Meanwhile, Israel has achieved extraordinary success in its ongoing campaign against Iran and its regional network. Alongside the United States, Israel has conducted precise operations targeting Iran’s nuclear program, ballistic missile infrastructure, and proxy forces, significantly weakening Tehran’s reach. In what many have described as “ten blows,” echoing the biblical plagues of Egypt, Israel has struck across multiple fronts: Hamas in Gaza, Hezbollah in Lebanon, the Assad regime in Syria, terrorist networks in Judea and Samaria, Houthi forces in Yemen, and strategic targets within Iran itself.

This is the world as it stands. The West is divided, but Israel is united. Stronger than ever, both militarily and economically, Israel is no longer just a beacon of hope. It is a pillar of Western democracy.

The Jew, once treated as defenseless, can now stand and fight. More than that, the Jewish people have built one of the most successful national movements in history. The story of Israel is not just political. It is profoundly human. A story of resilience, of survival against relentless attempts at destruction, and of a people who refused to disappear.

Passover is the story of redemption. As we enter this season, that story continues. A people sustained, protected, and rooted in a land of deep meaning and beauty. Even in the midst of war, Israel remains one of the happiest places on earth. Because beneath everything else, its story is something rare: a living, enduring connection between a people, their land, and their God.