Born in Ireland in 1921, the Israeli rabbi and diplomat Yaakov Herzog died 50 years ago. Among his many admirers was the British philosopher Isaiah Berlin. David M. Weinberg recalls Herzog’s career and legacy:

He was, I believe, the only person over the past 100 years of Jewish history who was considered equally qualified—in religious scholarship and diplomatic skill—to serve as chief rabbi of Britain and as director general of the Israeli prime minister’s office. In fact, Yaakov Herzog was simultaneously offered both jobs in 1965, and had to make a choice. He chose to stay in Israel.

Herzog was born into an illustrious family. His saintly and scholarly father was Isaac Halevi Herzog, who was chief rabbi of Israel until his passing in 1959. His brother was Major General Chaim Herzog, who also served as Israel’s sixth president (1983-1993). His daughter, the late Shira Herzog, headed the Canada-Israel Committee (and was my distinguished boss before I moved to Israel). His nephew, Isaac Herzog, is the esteemed current president of Israel.

David Ben-Gurion, to whom Herzog was a trusted personal advisor, called Herzog Tsafnat Paneaḥ, meaning the explainer of hidden things, or the man who reveals mysteries.

One of those mysteries that Herzog helped to explain was that of the rebirth of Israel; Weinberg cites his words:

I do not believe in the distinction between the secular and the spiritual realms; I do not think that is has any place in Judaism. I, at any rate, cannot grasp nor understand the significance of the return to Zion against the background of historical continuity without a spiritual conception. . . . [A]s vindication of spirit, as validation of tenacious faith, as proof of the Jewish people’s right of return to its indigenous home, Israel’s establishment and advancement is a very big deal indeed. . . . Israel represents a vindication of faith and prayer through the ages; it is a symbol of revival, a message of hope, indeed lasting evidence of the integrity of the spirit.

As this newsletter noted last week, Gaza is not suffering from famine, and the efforts to suggest that it is—which have been going on since at least the beginning of last year—are based on deliberate manipulation of the data. Nor, as Shany Mor explains, does international law require Israel to feed its enemies:

Article 23 of the Fourth Geneva Convention does oblige High Contracting Parties to allow for the free passage of medical and religious supplies along with “essential foodstuff, clothing, and tonics intended for children under fifteen” for the civilians of another High Contracting Party, as long as there is no serious reason for fearing that “the consignments may be diverted from their destination,” or “that a definite advantage may accrue to the military efforts or economy of the enemy” by the provision.

The Hamas regime in Gaza is, of course, not a High Contracting Party, and, more importantly, Israel has reason to fear both that aid provisions are diverted by Hamas and that a direct advantage is accrued to it by such diversions. Not only does Hamas take provisions for its own forces, but its authorities sell provisions donated by foreign bodies and use the money to finance its war. It’s notable that the first reports of Hamas’s financial difficulties emerged only in the past few weeks, once provisions were blocked.

Yet, since the war began, even European states considered friendly to Israel have repeatedly demanded that Israel “allow unhindered passage of humanitarian aid” and refrain from seizing territory or imposing “demographic change”—which means, in practice, that Gazan civilians can’t seek refuge abroad. These principles don’t merely constitute a separate system of international law that applies only to Israel, but prolong the suffering of the people they are ostensibly meant to protect:

By insisting that Hamas can’t lose any territory in the war it launched, the international community has invented a norm that never before existed and removed one of the few levers Israel has to pressure it to end the war and release the hostages.

These commitments have . . . made the plight of the hostages much worse and much longer. They made the war much longer than necessary and much deadlier for both sides. And they locked a large civilian population in a war zone where the de-facto governing authority was not only indifferent to civilian losses on its own side, but actually had much to gain by it.