October 19, 2025|כ"ז תשרי ה' אלפים תשפ"ו The Day After Plan for Israel By Rabbi Jonathan Muskat

The world today is fixated on the day after plan in Gaza. And understandably so.
We’ve already seen reports of Hamas trying to reassert control since the ceasefire took hold—killing dozens of Gazans viewed as rivals in a bloody crackdown. So everyone is asking: What is the day after plan for Gaza? How will Hamas be dismantled, demilitarized, so that Israel can finally live in security?

That’s a crucial military and political question.

But there’s another question that is just as important — perhaps even more so:
What is the day after plan for Israel?

From where I sit, I see a nation of contradictions — so much unity, and yet so much division.
There is so much love — the kind of love that brought millions into the streets to welcome home the final twenty living hostages as if their own sons and brothers were returning home. We saw the streets of Tel Aviv and Kfar Saba lined with people cheering for Eitan Horn and Nimrod Cohen as they left the hospital. A collective weight seemed to lift from our shoulders, and we could finally breathe again — k’ish echad b’lev echad, as one people with one heart.

And yet, the divisions persist — bitter disagreements about Prime Minister Netanyahu, about who must serve in the army, about whether we gave too much away in the hostage deal or released the next Sinwar. We are torn between a deep love for one another and deep ideological divides that refuse to disappear.

And that tension — between achdut and conviction, between love and being “right” — takes us right to the beginning of the Torah, to one of the earliest stories about human conflict.

Kayin and Hevel.
The Torah tells us simply: “Vayomer Kayin el Hevel achiv” — Kayin spoke to his brother Hevel.
And then they were in the field, and Kayin rose up and killed his brother. The Torah gives us no motive.

The Midrash fills in the gaps.
Perhaps it was about power and property — they divided the world between them, and each felt the other had encroached on his share.
Perhaps it was about desire — a fight over a woman, as Rav Huna suggests.
And perhaps, as Rabbi Levi says, it was about faith — about where the Beit HaMikdash should be built, whose offering God would prefer.

In other words, according to this third opinion, they weren’t just fighting over bad things. They were fighting over good things — over faith, over vision, over their relationship with God. But good intentions do not excuse destructive actions.

That’s been the story of humanity since the very beginning — from Kayin and Hevel to today. So many of our conflicts begin not because we are wicked, but because we care deeply. And when our convictions harden, when we stop seeing the image of God in the other, that’s when brother turns against brother.

There are moments when conflict and even violence are tragically necessary — like Israel’s fight against Hamas, which is a clear battle between good and evil. But most of the conflicts that divide our people are not battles between good and evil. They are battles between the smart and the shortsighted, the passionate and the stubborn — but they are still, heartbreakingly, between brothers.

And that’s why the Torah teaches us something profound about creation itself.
When God creates the world, He acts alone — “Vayomer Elokim”, and it was so.
But when He creates humanity, He pauses and says, “Na’aseh adam b’tzalmenu” — “Let us make man in Our image.”
Why the plural? Why consult?

Because God models for us the essence of being human: the power of communication, the need for relationship.
Additionally, only when He creates humanity does He introduce the idea of not being alone — “Lo tov heyot ha’adam levado.”
It’s not good for man to be alone.
Even the helpmate God creates is described as “ezer k’negdo” — a partner who is sometimes negdo, or “against” him. Because real relationships, real unity, include difference.

Man is created b’tzelem Elokim — in God’s image — which means endowed with creativity, speech, and moral choice. But also with the capacity for dialogue, for seeing the Divine in someone who disagrees. God’s “day after plan” for creation was never perfection — it was partnership. It was relationship.

And so today, when we ask what Israel’s “day after” plan should be, the military and political answers matter deeply — but the spiritual answer matters just as much.

We need to ask: What is our plan for each other?
How will we speak to one another across divides of ideology, of religion, of politics?
How will we hold onto achdut — unity — even when the war is over and the adrenaline fades?

Because getting it “right” is not as important as getting along.
Winning the argument will never be as holy as winning back each other’s hearts.

If Kayin and Hevel teach us anything, it’s that being right can destroy the world — but being together can rebuild it.

So yes, the world is focused on the “day after” plan for Gaza.
But maybe the real question for us is: What is the day after plan for Israel?

Can we ride the wave of achdut and emunah — the faith and unity that have defined us in this painful year — and make it our new normal?

Because unity doesn’t happen in speeches or slogans. It happens in small, quiet choices — in the way we speak to each other, listen to each other, and care for each other, especially when we disagree.

So here’s the challenge — our day after plan:
Find one person whose views or lifestyle you struggle with — someone you’ve quietly written off or avoided — and take one small step toward them.
Invite them for a meal. Send a message. Ask how they’re doing.
Not because you’ve changed your mind — but because you’ve opened your heart.

If every one of us does that, we’ll be doing the real rebuilding — the kind that doesn’t depend on politics or armies, but on people.

If Kayin and Hevel teach us anything, it’s that being right can destroy the world — but being together can rebuild it.

So let’s not waste this moment.
Let’s ride the wave.
Let’s build a “day after” plan not just for Gaza — but for ourselves, for Am Yisrael, and for the kind of future that only unity can create.