Narrator: What would compel a group of Israeli high school girls on a class trip in Poland to pool their pocket money, buy a desecrated Torah scroll from an antisemitic doll maker, and then smuggle it back home, risking arrest? The ancient scroll, its parchment pages torn and used to stuff dolls, was a relic of a murdered world. Yet for these teenagers, born decades after the Holocaust, rescuing it was an unquestionable duty. This act, a mix of defiance and reverence, gets to the heart of a profound question. What is the purpose of Israel, and is that purpose still understood by the very people tasked with defending it?

In his book, Saving Israel: How the Jewish People Can Win a War That May Never End, Daniel Gordis argues that Israel is facing a crisis far more dangerous than rockets or terror. It is a crisis of purpose, a "withering of Zionist passion" that threatens the nation from within. He contends that for Israel to survive, it must rediscover and articulate why it exists, not just for peace or security, but as a monumental project for the healing and revitalization of the Jewish people.

Narrator: Gordis begins by charting a dramatic shift in the Israeli psyche. The stunning victory of the 1967 Six-Day War created a period of national euphoria. Israel, having defeated the surrounding armies that vowed its destruction, felt invincible. But this optimism was short-lived. The decades that followed brought a grinding series of challenges that chipped away at this confidence: the rise of Palestinian nationalism, the shocking failure of the Camp David peace talks in 2000, and the brutal wave of suicide bombings during the Second Intifada.

This decline is captured in a series of painful episodes. In 2005, Israel unilaterally withdrew from Gaza, uprooting thousands of its own citizens in the hope that the move would advance peace. Instead, Hamas took power and unleashed a relentless barrage of rocket attacks on Israeli towns. A year later, the 2006 Lebanon War against Hezbollah ended not in a decisive victory, but in a frustrating stalemate that exposed the military's vulnerabilities. For many Israelis, the war felt like a return to the very beginning—a fight not for territory, but for their homes. One man in Haifa, whose apartment was hit by a rocket, defiantly told a reporter, "This is our home. From here, I am not budging." His sentiment captured a national feeling: the war for survival, it seemed, was not over. This relentless conflict, combined with internal corruption scandals, led to a deep national depression, causing many Israelis to question if a secure future was even possible.

Narrator: To counter this despair, Gordis argues that Israel must remember its foundational purpose. Israel was created not merely as a refuge, but as an engine for the reinvention of Jewish hope after the devastation of the Holocaust. It was meant to be a triumph of life over death, a place where the Jewish people could be sovereign and shape their own destiny.

This idea is powerfully embedded in Israeli culture. Gordis points to the design of Yad Vashem, Israel's Holocaust memorial. Visitors walk through a dark, oppressive concrete tunnel that chronicles the horrors of the Shoah, feeling disoriented and claustrophobic. But at the end, the tunnel opens onto a sunlit balcony with a breathtaking view of the Jerusalem forest. The architectural journey is a metaphor: from the grayness of death to the vibrant green of life, from the hell of Europe to the hope of Israel. Similarly, the personal story of novelist Amos Oz illuminates this transformation. On the night of the 1947 UN vote that approved the state's creation, his father held him and said, "From now on... you will never be bullied just because you are a Jew... From tonight that’s finished here. Forever." For his father, statehood was the end of fear and the beginning of a new, empowered Jewish identity.

Narrator: According to Gordis, one of Zionism's greatest achievements was the "Jewish return to history." For centuries in the Diaspora, Jews were subjects in other nations' stories. Statehood gave them the power to act as a collective, make decisions based on Jewish values, and shape their own future. The most stunning example of this is the revival of Hebrew. A liturgical language that had not been spoken for nearly two millennia was resurrected by visionaries like Eliezer Ben-Yehudah, who insisted on raising his children speaking only Hebrew. Today, it is the vibrant language of an entire nation, a feat without historical parallel.

This sovereignty forces Israel to grapple with complex moral dilemmas that Diaspora Jews never face. For instance, when Sudanese refugees fleeing genocide began arriving in Israel, it sparked a national debate rooted in Jewish values. Some cited Talmudic law to argue that Israel must care for its own poor first. Others, like the Minister of Justice, invoked the memory of Jews fleeing slavery in Egypt, arguing that Israel had a profound moral obligation to help. This debate, Gordis notes, is an example of Jews making Jewish decisions on the world stage—a direct outcome of having a state.

Narrator: While grappling with internal challenges, Israel faces a growing and coordinated campaign of international delegitimization. Gordis argues that Israel is held to a double standard, facing a level of scrutiny and condemnation that no other nation endures. This hostility manifests in multiple arenas. The United Nations, which once sanctioned Israel's creation, now routinely passes biased resolutions against it. European academic unions have called for boycotts of Israeli scholars, and public opinion polls have named Israel as one of the greatest threats to world peace.

This trend reached a fever pitch with Iran's former president, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, who repeatedly called for Israel to be "wiped off the map" while pursuing nuclear weapons. Gordis argues that this rhetoric is not just political posturing but a modern echo of the incitement that preceded the Holocaust. This constant delegitimization, he writes, is designed to make the world indifferent to threats against Israel's existence, leaving the nation feeling profoundly isolated and alone.

Narrator: Gordis argues that one of the most pressing internal threats to Israel's future is the demographic and ideological challenge posed by its Arab minority. While Israeli Arabs are citizens with rights, a growing and vocal segment is challenging the very legitimacy of a "Jewish state." Leaders and advocacy groups have published documents demanding that Israel abandon its Jewish symbols, like its flag and national anthem, and redefine itself as a "state of all its citizens," effectively ending the Zionist project.

This creates an immense conundrum. On one hand, Israel is committed to democratic principles. On the other, its core purpose is to be a state for the Jewish people. Gordis confronts this issue with painful honesty, exploring controversial ideas that have entered the Israeli discourse. These include proposals for border adjustments, where densely populated Arab areas like Wadi Ara would become part of a future Palestinian state. He acknowledges the immense moral and practical difficulties of such solutions but insists that the conversation can no longer be avoided. To ignore the demographic reality and the challenge to its Jewish character, he warns, is to risk the state's long-term stability.

Narrator: Ultimately, Gordis claims the greatest threat to Israel is internal: a "withering of Zionist passion" fueled by a profound ignorance of Jewish history and culture among its secular population. The early Zionists, in their effort to create a "new Jew," often rejected the religious traditions of the Diaspora. This has resulted in generations of Israelis who are, as one critic put it, "Hebrew-speaking gentiles." They may serve in the army and speak the language, but they lack the foundational knowledge of why their state exists.

Gordis shares a poignant story of an Israeli high school student who, on a trip to the United States, saw the Havdalah ceremony marking the end of the Sabbath for the first time. She returned to Israel furious, feeling that her own country had cheated her out of her heritage. This yearning for substance, Gordis believes, shows a path forward. Israel's survival depends on a national project to restore Jewish literacy and reconnect its youth to the intellectual and cultural traditions that are the very soul of the Jewish state. Without understanding the story of their people, they will not have the conviction to continue its next chapter.

Narrator: The single most important takeaway from Saving Israel is that the nation's future will be determined not on the battlefield, but in the hearts and minds of its own people. Daniel Gordis makes a compelling case that without a renewed sense of purpose—a clear and passionate answer to the question "Why Israel?"—the will to sustain the Jewish state will falter. The physical wars may never end, but the ideological war for Israel's soul is the one that must be won.

The book leaves the reader with a challenging thought: Israel was never meant to be a state like any other. Its purpose is unique, and therefore its path will be as well. The ultimate question Gordis poses is whether today's Israelis, and their supporters abroad, have the courage to embrace that unique and difficult destiny, and to fight for a dream that is still very much in the making.