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Dear Friends,

In the small section of the Talmud known as Pirkei Avot—Ethics of the Fathers—we find a powerful teaching that is as relevant today as when it was first uttered. In it, the rabbis warn us to be cautious with our words, teaching,

“חכמים, היזהרו בדבריכם”Sages, be careful with your words.

Long before social media, cable news, and viral headlines, the ancient rabbis understood a profound truth: words have consequences far beyond the speaker’s intentions. Once spoken, words can ignite passions, distort reality, cause harm, and endanger lives. Even truthful words require careful handling, especially when claims are uncertain, poorly sourced, or presented without adequate context.

Thus the rabbis teach that careless words wound not only the subject of the conversation, but also the one who utters them—for the speaker can no longer be trusted—and even those who hear them, whose perceptions become shaped by falsehoods and distortions.

This week, after reading Nicholas Kristof’s New York Times commentary on Israel’s alleged mistreatment of Palestinians in Israeli custody, I found myself thinking about this teaching a great deal.

Before continuing, let me be perfectly clear: any individual acting under Israeli authority who abuses detainees or violates the law is acting in a manner that is morally reprehensible and fundamentally contrary to Jewish values. Such accusations must be thoroughly investigated, and if proven true, met with serious punishment that makes clear that such behavior will not be tolerated.

But let me be equally clear about something else as well: Judaism also demands honesty, proportionality, and responsibility in how accusations are made and disseminated. Moreover, it demands that allegations be examined carefully and that guilt or innocence be determined only after the facts are fully known. When we blindly accept accusations and allegations as established fact, we ourselves become part of the problem.

Time and again, we have seen accusations against Israel amplified before verification and presented not merely as allegations but in the most extreme terms possible. When serious claims rely heavily on anonymous testimony, ideologically driven organizations, hearsay, or incomplete evidence—as they did in Kristof’s piece, which notably appeared on the opinion pages rather than in the news section of the paper—we must exercise caution. That is especially true when the resulting narrative contributes to a global atmosphere in which we are already witnessing an explosion of hostility toward Jews and the Jewish state. And too often, I worry that many well-meaning people are unwittingly contributing to that climate.

Judaism does not view words as harmless expressions, but as forces that shape realities. The laws surrounding lashon hara—destructive speech—exist precisely because reckless or irresponsible communication can damage reputations, communities, and even lives. Pirkei Avot repeatedly reminds us that speech carries moral weight.

We are witnessing a moment in which rhetoric surrounding Israel often transcends legitimate criticism of policy and moves into darker and more dangerous territory. Language, framing, and repetition all matter. When accusations are presented without rigor, nuance, or care, they do not remain confined to the opinion pages of a newspaper. They shape public discourse, fuel campus unrest, spread rapidly across social media, and ultimately spill into our streets and communities. The result is the explosion of ugliness and hostility directed toward Jews that so many of us are witnessing today.

Israel is not, and should never be, immune from criticism. No country or government should be. As I have made clear previously, I have no love for the current Israeli administration, and Raina and I look forward to being two new centrist votes in the Israeli elections this fall. But accusations, especially inflammatory ones, must be handled with exceptional seriousness, rigor, and responsibility, not casually amplified on the opinion pages of a newspaper.

The rabbis understood that speech has the power either to elevate society or to poison it.

In an era characterized by outrage, amplification, and ideological certainty, Pirkei Avot calls upon us to reclaim a lost virtue: moral restraint. We must speak carefully, verify before proclaiming, criticize responsibly, and remember that once words are unleashed into the world, they cannot easily be recalled.

Shabbat Shalom,Rabbi Daniel Cohen