We have insurance services customized for your unique needs and preferences

Should we hate the globalists?

These are my insights for defeating the Transhumanist Technocracy movement, based on the teachings of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, of blessed memory, on the weekly Bible portion.

The transhumanist technocrats have made it very clear that they think they are better than us. Here are just a few examples of what they want:

We have no power over our lives. They control all aspects of our lives.

We own nothing, They own everything.

We eat bugs. They eat caviar.

We live in “smart cities” (aka prisons.) They jet around the world.

We are mere cogs in their wheels. They get to “eliminate” (via clot shots / DNA mutation / unrestricted abortion / assisted suicide / etc.) people they consider no longer useful.

What makes them so evil? What leads them to commit such crimes against humanity?

Why do they hate common people so much – and is it possible for light to enter their hearts of darkness?

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks addresses such questions in his commentary on Parashat Mishpatim called “Healing the Heart of Darkness.”

Rabbis Sacks starts out with the story of a man who was filled with one of the world’s oldest forms of hate: anti-Semitism. It is truly a story of self-transformation.

“Jobbik, otherwise known as the Movement for a Better Hungary, is an ultra-nationalist Hungarian political party that has been described as fascist, neo-Nazi, racist, and antisemitic. It has accused Jews of being part of a ‘cabal of western economic interests’ attempting to control the world: the libel otherwise known as the Protocols of the Elders of Zion, a fiction created by members of the Czarist secret service in Paris in the late 1890s and revealed as a forgery by The Times in 1921.[1] On one occasion the Jobbik party asked for a list of all the Jews in the Hungarian government. Disturbingly, in the Hungarian parliamentary elections in April 2014 it secured over 20 per cent of the votes, making it the third largest party.

“Until 2012, one of its leading members was a politician in his late 20s, Csanad Szegedi. Szegedi was a rising star in the movement, widely regarded as its future leader. Until one day in 2012. That was the day Szegedi discovered he was a Jew.

“Some of Jobbik’s members had wanted to stop his progress and spent time investigating his background to see whether they could find anything that would do him damage. What they found was that his maternal grandmother was a Jewish survivor of Auschwitz. So was his maternal grandfather. Half of Szegedi’s family were killed during the Holocaust.

“Szegedi’s opponents started sharing information about Jewish ancestry online. Soon Szegedi himself discovered what was being said and decided to check whether the claims were true. They were. After Auschwitz, his grandparents, once Orthodox Jews, had decided to hide their identity completely. When his mother was 14, her father had told her the secret but ordered her not to reveal it to anyone. Szegedi now knew the truth about himself.

“Szegedi decided to resign from the party and find out more about Judaism. He went to a local Chabad Rabbi, Slomó Köves, who at first thought he was joking. Nonetheless he arranged for Szegedi to attend classes on Judaism and to come to the synagogue. At first, Szegedi says, people were shocked. He was treated by some as ‘a leper.’ But he persisted. Today he attends synagogue, keeps Shabbat, has learned Hebrew, calls himself Dovid, and in 2013 underwent circumcision (with an ultra-Orthodox mohel).

“When he first admitted the truth about his Jewish ancestry, one of his friends in the Jobbik party said, ‘The best thing would be if we shoot you, so you can be buried as a pure Hungarian.’ Another urged him to make a public apology. It was this comment, he says, that made him leave the party. ‘I thought, wait a minute, I am supposed to apologise for the fact that my family was killed at Auschwitz?’

“As the realisation that he was a Jew began to change his life, it also transformed his understanding of the world. Today, he says, his focus as a politician is to defend human rights for everyone. ‘I am aware of my responsibility, and I know I will have to make it right in the future.'”

How are we to understand this transformation? What does it teach us about the role of morality in our lives? Rabbi Sacks puts it this way:

“… why is it that humans hate, harm and kill? A full answer would take longer than a lifetime, but the short answer is simple. We are tribal animals. We form ourselves into groups. Morality is both cause and consequence of this fact. Toward people with whom we are or feel ourselves to be related we are capable of altruism. But toward strangers we feel fear, and that fear is capable of turning us into monsters.

“Morality, in Jonathan Haidt’s phrase, ‘binds and blinds’’ It binds us to others in a bond of reciprocal altruism. But it also blinds us to the humanity of those who stand outside that bond. It unites and divides. It divides because it unites. Morality turns the ‘I’ of self interest into the ‘We’ of the common good. But the very act of creating an ‘Us’ simultaneously creates a ‘Them,’ the people not like us. Even the most universalistic of religions, founded on principles of love and compassion, have often viewed those outside the faith as Satan, the infidel, the antichrist, the child of darkness, the unredeemed. Large groups of their followers have committed unspeakable acts of brutality in the name of God.”

As Rabbi Sacks understands it, the human tribal instinct naturally creates an “us and them” dynamic. If left unchecked, this can easily become an attitude of “it’s either us or them.” But as he sees it, God knew this and gave us that “check” on our tribal instincts, to help us avoid falling into a potentially destructive elitist trap:

“… two sentences blaze through today’s parsha like the sun emerging from behind thick clouds:

“‘You must not mistreat or oppress the stranger in any way. Remember, you yourselves were once strangers in the land of Egypt.’ Ex. 22:21

“‘You must not oppress strangers. You know what it feels like to be a stranger, for you yourselves were once strangers in the land of Egypt.'” Ex. 23:9

This is a trap into which civilizations can easily fall:

“The great crimes of humanity have been committed against the stranger, the outsider, the one-not-like-us. Recognising the humanity of the stranger has been the historic weak point in most cultures. The Greeks saw non-Greeks as barbarians. Germans called Jews vermin, lice, a cancer in the body of the nation. In Rwanda, Hutus called Tutsis inyenzi, cockroaches. Dehumanise the other and all the moral forces in the world will not save us from evil. Knowledge is silenced, emotion anaesthetised and reason perverted. The Nazis convinced themselves (and others) that in exterminating the Jews they were performing a moral service for the Aryan race. Suicide bombers are convinced that they are acting for the greater glory of God. There is such a thing as altruistic evil.”

Knowing this, God gave great emphasis to “loving the stranger” in His Torah teachings:

“That is what makes these two commands so significant. The Torah emphasises the point time and again: the Rabbis said that the command to love the stranger appears thirty-six times in the Torah. Jewish law is here confronting directly the fact that care for the stranger is not something for which we can rely on our normal moral resources of knowledge, empathy and rationality. Usually we can, but under situations of high stress, when we feel our group threatened, we cannot. The very inclinations that bring out the best in us – our genetic inclination to make sacrifices for the sake of kith and kin – can also bring out the worst in us when we fear the stranger. We are tribal animals and we are easily threatened by the members of another tribe.”

But to fully understand this, the Israelites had to themselves be strangers:

“Note that these commands are given shortly after the Exodus. Implicit in them is a very radical idea indeed. Care for the stranger is why the Israelites had to experience exile and slavery before they could enter the Promised Land and build their own society and state. You will not succeed in caring for the stranger, implies God, until you yourselves know in your very bones and sinews what it feels like to be a stranger. And lest you forget, I have already commanded you to remind yourselves and your children of the taste of affliction and bitterness every year on Pesach. Those who forget what it feels like to be a stranger, eventually come to oppress strangers, and if the children of Abraham oppress strangers, why did I make them My covenantal partners?…

“We have to remember that we were once on the other side of the equation. We were once strangers: the oppressed, the victims. Remembering the Jewish past forces us to undergo role reversal. In the midst of freedom we have to remind ourselves of what it feels like to be a slave.”

It was through such a role reversal that Csanad transformed himself:

“What happened to Csanad, now Dovid, Szegedi, was exactly that: role reversal. He was a hater who discovered that he belonged among the hated. What cured him of antisemitism was his role-reversing discovery that he was a Jew. That, for him, was a life-changing discovery. The Torah tells us that the experience of our ancestors in Egypt was meant to be life-changing as well. Having lived and suffered as strangers, we became the people commanded to care for strangers.

“The best way of curing antisemitism is to get people to experience what it feels like to be a Jew. The best way of curing hostility to strangers is to remember that we too – from someone else’s perspective – are strangers. Memory and role-reversal are the most powerful resources we have to cure the darkness that can sometimes occlude the human soul.”

I would add this:

Is it really possible for genocidal psychotic globalists to “see the light?” One would think that are too invested in their evil ways to change. God will deal with them, because as much as they like to separate themselves from us, they cannot escape Him.

Yet, it also seems to me that if a hard-core Jew-hater like Csanad can reform his ways, maybe the hard-core humanity-haters of today can as well. So I think we freedom fighters have a moral obligation to not hate them in our hearts, as they hate us.

But we can hate what they are trying to do to us, and do what we need to do to defeat them.

You may also like these