If we can’t move on from what doesn’t matter: Danger of missing October 7’s lesson
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If we can’t move on from what doesn’t matter: Danger of missing October 7’s lesson

The atrocities of October 7 stripped everything down to its essence. That day wasn’t about politics or ideology. It was about survival. It laid bare the stark reality of hatred aimed at Jews, unrelenting, indiscriminate, and merciless. It wasn’t just an attack on individuals. It was a direct assault on our very existence.

If the murder of children, the taking of hostages, and the desecration of human lives didn’t force us to reexamine our priorities, then what will? October 7 taught us that our differences fade into irrelevance when confronted by hatred so absolute.

I fear we are failing to heed the lesson.

That day was a brutal reminder that antisemitism isn’t an abstract threat. It is a persistent, insidious force that requires resilience and solidarity. In moments like these, we need allies, leaders who will stand with us when it matters most, even at personal cost.

This is why the treatment of Mayor Michael Pagan troubles me so deeply.

Revenge is seductive. It masquerades as justice, offering the illusion of accountability and closure. In truth, it delivers none of these things. Instead, it distracts us from what’s vital and punishes those least deserving of blame.

Mayor Michael Pagan is a glaring example of this tragic misstep.

Pagan didn’t just talk about standing against antisemitism; he lived it. On October 7, as the world reeled, Pagan, a non-Jewish council member, personally reached out to Jewish leaders, including me, Mayor Schwartz, and Mayor Katz. He unequivocally condemned antisemitism without hesitation or political calculation. At a time when many faltered, Pagan demonstrated courage and moral clarity.

In the year that followed, he continued to lead with conviction, standing firm against hate and embodying the kind of leadership we claim to value: principled, authentic, and unwavering. Yet a small faction persisted in painting him as a betrayer.

These accusations didn’t stem from his failures but from political grievances that no longer mattered in the world after October 7. In 2023, Pagan cast a vote that displeased some, a vote framed as a betrayal, even though those making the accusation had already violated the deal they claimed he broke.

Let’s be clear: there was no betrayal.

Instead of recognizing Pagan’s integrity and steadfast support, this faction clung to grudges, sidelining him in favor of resentment and retribution. They chose pettiness over principle at a time that demanded unity and foresight.

The consequences of this decision reach far beyond Pagan’s personal loss. They strike at the heart of what it means to advocate for a community under siege. Pagan wasn’t replaced by someone more committed to the Jewish community or more capable of leading. He was replaced by individuals who actively refuse to acknowledge our struggles or even name the antisemitism we face.

Let’s confront the reality of what has been done. They sidelined a proven ally and elevated individuals with deeply troubling records. One who faces an ethics complaint for opposing a yeshiva in her neighborhood, only to profit from the property’s sale. That same individual encouraged the organizer Keter Torah protests and smeared Israel as a “war criminal.” Putting the community’s needs and safety at risk, rather than embrace a proven ally is not leadership.

What message does this send, not only to our community but to those who seek to harm us? It tells our enemies that targeting Jews carries no consequences. It tells our allies that standing with us comes at a cost we won’t mitigate. It signals that grudges matter more than gratitude, even in the shadow of October 7.

This choice is more than a misstep. It’s a dangerous precedent. If we fail to stand by courageous allies, we risk discouraging others from stepping forward when it matters most.

October 7 reminded us of the stakes: the urgent need to confront antisemitism, protect Jewish lives, and build coalitions capable of sustaining our future. But we cannot achieve this if we allow past grievances to dictate our actions or petty rivalries to blind us to the present reality.

Mayor Pagan stood by us when it mattered most. He didn’t equivocate. He didn’t hesitate. He acted with integrity and urgency. That is the kind of ally we must celebrate, not alienate.

The lesson of October 7 is clear: survival requires focus and a steadfast commitment to what truly matters. If we alienate allies like Pagan and cling to grievances that no longer serve us, we risk losing not just support but the strength and solidarity essential to our survival.

Mayor Pagan has already proven his loyalty. The question now is whether we can prove ours. Can we rise above pettiness and prioritize what’s truly at stake? The Jewish people have endured for millennia by focusing on the future, adapting, and refusing to be defined by old wounds.

Now is the moment to decide: will we honor the lesson of October 7 and rise united, or will we squander this opportunity and risk everything?

Hillary Goldberg, a lifelong resident of Teaneck and founder and editor-in-chief of the Teaneck Tomorrow email newsletter, was elected to her hometown’s Township Council in 2022. After October 7, she wrote a resolution condemning Hamas and supporting Israel that council adopted unanimously.

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