- Michael Balaban
Jewish Federation of Greater Philadelphia President and CEO

Last night, Israeli forces launched Operation Rising Lion, targeting elements of the Islamic Republic of Iran’s nuclear and military infrastructure. It was not a decision made lightly. It came in response to what Israeli and international officials have described as a rapidly evolving threat.

For years, the Iranian regime has issued explicit threats against the state of Israel – in Tehran, the country even touts a doomsday clock in the center square that counts down to the destruction of Israel. It has backed terror proxies, destabilized the region, and, according to the International Atomic Energy Agency, amassed enough enriched uranium to create multiple nuclear weapons — one-third of that material accumulated in just the past three months. Diplomatic efforts continue, but the speed and scale of Iran’s nuclear advancements have raised alarms around the world.

This wasn’t a distant or hypothetical danger — it was a fast-moving and deeply concerning development. Israeli leaders acted with the stated goal of preventing a broader catastrophe. It was a difficult decision made in an impossibly high-stakes context, guided by the need to protect lives.

As this situation unfolds, we must also name something else: many of us are feeling vulnerable. On the heels of a peaceful Jewish gathering in Boulder, Colorado being firebombed, a young couple being gunned down after exiting an event at the Capital Jewish Museum in Washington, D.C. and our governor's house being set on fire – all in the name of “Free Palestine,” we are seeing how a war across the world has taken root in our own backyard. 

And yet, even amid fear, we can choose how we respond. As the conflict intensifies, we must resist the tendency to analyze it only through headlines or policy debates — and instead keep our attention on the people whose lives hang in the balance and what we can do to protect our communities.

In moments like these, preparation must be grounded in calm, clarity and care. That’s why we are grateful for our partners at the Secure Community Network (SCN), who continue to provide expert guidance and real-time support to Jewish institutions across North America.

SCN encourages communities to remain vigilant. This is not a call to fear — it is a reminder to continue the thoughtful safety practices many have already implemented. 

SCN reminds us that resilience is not just about fortifying our buildings. It is about strengthening our relationships, our coordination and our care for one another – because together, we can be a powerful light that can break through the darkest of storms. 

The same hate that fuels Iran’s genocidal ambitions is the hate that lit the firebomb in Boulder. That murdered Yaron and Sarah. That stalks Holocaust Survivors and schoolchildren. The threat is global — but so too is our responsibility to care for one another: as it says in Leviticus, “Ve’ahavta le’reyakha kamokha” or “Love Your Neighbor As Thyself.”

Last week, 75 Holocaust Survivors gathered in Philadelphia for a joyful luncheon in honor of Holocaust Survivor Day. There was music and laughter, but also a quiet awareness of the weight of this moment. These survivors are not only witnesses to history. Their lives remind us what happens when hatred is ignored, and how urgent our responsibility is to remember, educate and act.

So let us be clear: The choices available to Israel may have been constrained by circumstance, but we are not powerless in how we respond. We can choose to speak out, to show up, and to support one another through fear, with compassion and resolve.

A friend sent me an article that has stayed with me all week: “Things Worth Remembering: The Freedom to Be Different,” by Mijal Bitton. It reflects on the legacy of Jewish philosopher Simon Rawidowicz, who, in the aftermath of World War II, proposed a “fifth freedom”— the freedom to be different.

Rawidowicz understood that being Jewish has always meant living a little differently — following unfamiliar rhythms, upholding uncommon rituals, holding fast to memory in a world that forgets easily. These quiet acts of distinction aren’t grand, but they are generational.

He called it libertas differendi — the freedom not just to believe, but to live distinctly. And he knew that freedom is rarely given — it is protected. “Do not try to hide the Different inside you,” he wrote. “Carry it with open pride to yourself and to the world.”

You can read the full article here. 

In the wake of Boulder, Washington, Harrisburg, and Israel’s ongoing war  — and in so many other moments that try to make us feel unsafe for being ourselves — we would do well to remember that. We owe no apology for who we are. And we cannot afford to retreat from what makes us different.

Let us stand together, openly and proudly.
Let our response be thoughtful.
Let it be united.
Let it be grounded in who we are.
Let us not lose our humanity.
Let us continue to strive and pray for peace. 

And above all, let it be worthy: of our ancestors, our children and the values we are committed to upholding — no matter how difficult the moment.

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