by Berel Wein

In a trenchant lecture delivered at the end of 1943, when the full horror of the Holocaust was finally dawning on world Jewry, the famous Jewish historian Benzion Dinur described the feelings of historical empathy engendered within him by the news of the continuing annihilation of European Jewry.

Only now, he said, did he understand what our ancestors felt at the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem, the trauma of Spanish Jewry and the destruction of French and German Jewry in the period of the Crusades and the Black Death, the massacres of 1648-1649 in the Ukraine and Poland and the deprivations of the Bolsheviks and the White Army 25 years earlier.

His point was that historical empathy is necessary to understand history and to appreciate current events. Only when that empathy exists can we judge past generations fairly. Tragically, much of Jewish historical empathy lies in the memory of destruction and massacres, in recalling the blind hatred and fanatical hostility to the very existence of the People of Israel.

Such empathy is always shocking to those who are forced to undergo this process.Synagogues firebombed and damaged in France and Belgium, anti-Semitism disguised as "do-goodism" by "peace activists," the Blood Libel reincarnated and spread throughout the Muslim and Christian world, and the approval granted by much of the world to killing innocent Jews through the new method of choice - suicide bombing - all combine to shock us back into some sort of historical empathy with our forefathers.

We had somehow convinced ourselves that we were different. After all, this is 2002. It is this destruction of the illusion that times had really changed that contributes to much of the current angst in the Jewish world. We are not interested in reliving our past. We thought that the War of Independence ended, if not in 1949, then certainly with the signing of the Oslo Accods in 1993. And yet here it is again. Seemingly, the War of Independence is still being fought.

The revisionist, post-Zionist Jewish academics complained about Jewish behavior during the Russian Revolution, the Holocaust, Israel's War of Independence and all subsequent behavior of Israel vis-a-vis the Arabs, Jewish society and the world in general. In their eyes, we can do no right.

So, some Israeli ex-pat professors in American universities now write long oped pieces in American newspapers depicting Prime Minister Ariel Sharon as the villain in the current bloody scenario. I am reminded of Menachem Begin's famous quip, "The last government in the Land of Israel that found any favor in the eyes of the editorial staff of Ha'aretz was the rule of the British Mandate."

But their cravenness avails them not a bit, for they are nevertheless the target of the anti-Israel demonstrations fomented on American campuses by Arab students and their anti-Semitic allies.

One is reminded of the pitiful bleating loyalty of the Jewish communists in Russia, who helped Stalin destroy the Jewish community in the Soviet Union as they were led to their own executions and exile to the Gulag.

A little historical empathy would certainly help these starry-eyed Jewish unfortunates realize in what type of struggle we are engaged.

When I was in the United States recently, I went into a large shopping mall in South Bend, Indiana. I noticed an elderly man staring at me intently. Since I am so handsome and famous (and look so Jewish), I am accustomed to being stared at, and so paid the man no further notice. However, as I left the store, he rushed over to me and shouted: "Sharon is bringing down the world!" Everyone in the store turned and stared.

I was comforted by reminding myself of an incident when I attended law school more than 45 years ago. An anti-Semitic law professor constantly ridiculed me publicly for leaving the Friday lecture early in order to be home in time for Shabbat. Once he said to me: "You are destroying the modern world with your stupid religion!"

He later committed suicide in a drunken stupor and I, thank God, have remained a Shabbat observer.

I thought that things had changed in the past half century. Maybe they have, but maybe they have not. A little historical empathy certainly enlightened me as to the real situation that we still face.