Fifty years on, the lessons of the Yom Kippur War still resonate

Any Jew who recalls 1973 knows exactly where they were, and the events that unfolded, on October 6 of that year.

Yom Kippur had begun at sundown in the U.S.; when American Jews came to synagogue the next morning, their Israeli kin were locked in a life-and-death battle for their own existence, and the survival of the Jewish State.

Egypt and Syria, bolstered by 10 other belligerents, sent 800,000 troops against the Israel Defense Forces, outnumbering them two-to-one. The surprise attack occurred when virtually all Israeli forces were wrapped not in armor, but in tallitot (prayer shawls).

The war lasted two and a half weeks. Israel suffered tremendously, inflicted with more than 2,500 dead and more than 7,000 wounded (from a population of under 3.3 million). Compounding the physical blow was the psychological shock: Egypt had crossed the Suez Canal, while Syria had breached the Golan Heights, shattering Israel’s feeling of invincibility stemming from her Six-Day War victory, just six years prior.

Despite the loss of life–and Israel’s self-confidence–the conflict led to the peace agreement with Egypt in 1979, which endures today.

Steven B. Nasatir, Executive Vice Chairman of the Jewish United Fund, and I recently reflected on the impact of the Yom Kippur War on Chicago’s Jewish community, on our own Jewish identities, and on the implications of that event for Jewish life today.

Nasatir, who was JUF President from 1979-2019, was working in the organization’s Campaign department in 1973; I had spent a year abroad at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem but had returned to the U.S. months before the war. For each of us, Israel’s fight for survival felt deeply personal.

The echoes of 1973 still reverberate a half-century later, as Israel continues to struggle to find a secure footing in the region, and in its own identity.

Perhaps Israelis and the Jewish people never will resolve the contradictions resulting from a pluralistic Jewish state in a region rife with fundamentalism, including Jewish fundamentalism. Perhaps Israel never can achieve full peace and security in a region where its military superiority is constantly tested. The lesson of the Yom Kippur War may be that Israel never can relax its guard, as minor ripples-both military and societal-can escalate into existential tsunamis.

Cohen: Why do you think it’s important to reflect on past conflicts, today?

Nasatir: We have an obligation to remind people of the history, because understanding the past is a key to grasping the challenges of the present. It’s hard for people who didn’t live through such moments to appreciate their impact, but we all should remind ourselves that our current circumstances arose from somewhere, and the more we grasp those dynamics the better we should be able to manage the present.

For me, the biggest lesson is that we can never take Jewish sovereignty for granted. Ever!

Cohen: Did experiencing the victory in ’67 prepare you for the events of ’73?

Nasatir: The Six-Day War changed my life in many ways, as it did for many young Jews of our generation. It was a miracle, a victory against all odds. I felt this huge sense of collective pride and accomplishment. I felt a strong need to connect with our brothers and sisters in Israel, which motivated me to work at JUF in 1971.

Cohen: What was it like to work for the Jewish community then?

Nasatir: I was working in Campaign, and in 1973 became assistant to the Executive (Jim Rice). I learned the complexities and interconnections of our communal structure. I knew of, and participated in, the Jewish community’s response to the ’67 War, the rallies and people coming to JUF with donations, saying, “This is for Israel.” The same thing happened in ’73.

Cohen: What was the feeling?

Nasatir: It wasn’t clear if the Jewish State would survive. A lot of Israelis were being killed. On the second and third day of the war, we were looking at each other and saying ‘Oh my God! What’s going to happen?’ The euphoria of the Six-Day War was gone.

We immediately got to work, set up tables in the lobby of our building, and people would come, holding money, bonds, and a checkbook, and just say, “For Israel.” We took over a ballroom at the Palmer House. We had speakers, made the appeal, and they signed checks and made pledges right there.

Cohen: At a time when unity concerning Israel is challenged, it’s hard to recall the solidarity that existed in the past. What was that like?

Nasatir: If there were any positives about the situation, it was how the various Jewish organizations, synagogues, and streams of Judaism came together for this emergency campaign.

We held a rally at City Hall, with lots of media coverage, where Mayor [Richard J.] Daley, in an emotional and vigorous way, talked about his support for Israel. The Jewish community played a strong role advocating for a quick and full rearmament of Israel. We didn’t just raise money, we also garnered political support. It was a meaningful way for Jews in America to connect with Israel.

Cohen: What was the response once the war was over?

Nasatir: I went to Israel with a Chicago leadership group led by Leonard Sherman z”l. The biggest heartbreak was going to hospitals and seeing the boys with lost limbs and eyes, and worse. The country was secure, but the damage was huge. And Israel was going through political convulsions over being unprepared.

Cohen: I remember being in Jerusalem for Israel’s 25th independence day celebrations. The country was at a zenith. I’ll never forget the despair at reaching the nadir just five months later.

Nasatir: The Yom Kippur War was a wakeup call, but it ultimately led to [Egyptian President Anwar] Sadat’s historic visit to Jerusalem. For me, it clarified the role of the Diaspora: The loss and grieving did not result in a feeling of ‘Who needs this?’ but rather in ‘What more can we do?’ The ’74 fundraising campaign was bigger than ever because of that sense that this is the moment to invest in the people and land of Israel. We recognized that, if they aren’t invincible, neither are we.

It also became clear that the connection between Israelis and Diaspora Jews was mutual. In the ’50s and ’60s, we felt we must help our poor cousins in Israel. Then in ’67 there was the surge in strength and pride, which was also a stimulus to the Soviet Jewry movement. The sadness of ’73 resulted in a deeper understanding and connection, in raising more dollars, in becoming more astute advocates, and in building a stronger bridge between Israel and us.

Cohen: Do you think the Jewish community today is interested, let alone prepared, to live up to the magnitude of challenge represented by events such as the Yom Kippur War?

Nasatir: If you asked me that question a year ago, I would have said Israel is so much bigger and stronger than it ever has been. It’s not the same Israel as in ’73, and we’re not the same Jewish community, but we’re still inextricably connected.

But in the fall of 2023, there’s so much in flux politically and socially in Israel. The internal challenges are in some ways unprecedented, and the external challenges also continue. One challenge seems to compound the other, so that again it feels like an existential crisis–a time that requires greater coming together–there and here.

Nevertheless, the 75 years of memories–the good and the bad–remind us of how privileged we are to live at a time of Jewish sovereignty in Israel, and how precious is the gift and the role in history we have all been provided.

Aaron B. Cohen is the former JUF vice president of Communications.