The outrage machine is currently idling at a predictable frequency. Media outlets are hyperventilating over the news that Rabbi Leo Dee, or figures of his ideological stripe, are selected to light torches at Israel’s national ceremonies. The narrative is as tired as it is lazy: a "radical" figure is being mainstreamed, thereby "staining" the sanctity of a national holiday.
This critique isn't just shallow; it’s historically illiterate. It operates on the delusional premise that national identity is a curated gallery of polite gestures and universally agreed-upon ethics. It isn't. National identity is a blunt instrument forged in the heat of existential friction. If you find a national hero who hasn't offended the sensibilities of a suburban book club, you haven't found a hero—you’ve found a mascot.
The Myth of the Sterile State
The primary argument against controversial figures participating in state ceremonies usually centers on "national unity." The logic suggests that by including a polarizing figure, the state alienates a segment of its population and damages its international standing.
This is a fundamental misunderstanding of what a state ceremony actually does. These events are not meant to be inclusive HR seminars. They are assertions of power, survival, and memory. In the context of Israel, a country that exists in a perpetual state of high-stakes conflict, the "unity" being celebrated isn't the unity of shared opinions. It is the unity of shared fate.
Critics point to statements about "bulldozing" or aggressive territorial stances as disqualifiers. They treat these views as anomalies or "fringe" beliefs that have somehow snuck into the palace. Wake up. These views are the direct, logical output of a society that has been told for seventy-five years that its existence is a temporary clerical error. You cannot demand a population live on a knife's edge and then act shocked when they develop a sharp edge themselves.
The Professional Victimhood Trap
The competitor's coverage focuses heavily on the optics of "boasting" about destruction. It’s a classic move: focus on the tone to avoid discussing the mechanics of the conflict. By framing the issue as one of "rudeness" or "extremism," the media avoids the uncomfortable reality that every nation-state on this planet was built on the physical displacement of someone else.
If we applied the "moral purity" test to every torch-lighter, every founding father, and every national icon in history, the stage would be empty.
- Should the US celebrate figures who expanded the frontier?
- Should the UK honor the architects of its empire?
- Should any nation in the Middle East celebrate its military leaders?
The answer is always "yes" because national holidays are about the survival of the collective, not the individual flawlessness of the representatives. When you demand that a torch-lighter be a paragon of modern liberal sensibilities, you aren't asking for a representative of the people; you're asking for a puppet that makes you feel better about the messy business of statehood.
The Tactical Utility of Polarization
There is a dirty secret in statecraft that most analysts are too timid to mention: polarization is an asset. A state that only honors "safe" figures is a state that is signaling its own domestic domestication. By selecting figures who are unashamedly hardline, a government signals to its adversaries that the core of its national will is not for sale to the highest bidder of international approval.
This isn't about whether you agree with the Rabbi. It's about recognizing that his presence on that stage is a deliberate feature, not a bug. It serves to remind the populace that the struggle for the land is visceral and ongoing. It disrupts the comfortable, middle-class fantasy that the conflict can be solved by enough "dialogue" and "mutual understanding."
The "lazy consensus" says that "extremism" weakens a country. History suggests the opposite. Conviction—even the kind that makes you flinch—is the glue that holds societies together when the bombs start falling. The people who are most offended by a "controversial" torch-lighter are usually the ones who have the luxury of living far enough away from the consequences of the policy to treat it like a moral philosophy exercise.
Logic vs. Sentimentality
Let’s dismantle the "People Also Ask" obsession with international perception. "Will this hurt Israel’s image abroad?"
The honest answer: Who cares?
Nations that prioritize their "image" over their internal realities eventually lose both. The global community's approval is a fickle, valueless currency. One day you’re the plucky underdog; the next, you’re the regional bully. If a state bases its internal honors system on what a columnist in London or New York thinks, it has already surrendered its sovereignty.
The ceremony is for the people inside the borders, not the spectators outside of them. It is a ritual of internal cohesion. When the state picks a figure who has suffered personal loss and channeled it into a hardline stance, it is validating the anger and the resolve of a massive portion of its base. To ignore that base in favor of international "decorum" is a recipe for civil unrest.
The Cost of the "Clean" Narrative
When we try to sanitize our national stories, we create a vacuum. If the state refuses to honor the hardliners, the hardliners don't just go away. They become martyrs to a cause that views the state as weak or traitorous. By bringing these figures into the fold—by giving them the torch—the state actually exerts more control over the narrative than it would by ostracizing them.
It is a classic "big tent" strategy that the "progressive" critique fails to grasp. You don't manage radicalism by pushing it into the dark; you manage it by making it part of the official record. You give it a seat at the table so it has something to lose.
I have seen organizations and movements try to "purge" their way to respectability. It never works. You end up with a leadership class that is completely decoupled from the reality of the people they represent. You end up with a "pure" ceremony that no one actually cares about because it doesn't reflect the grit, the pain, or the defiance of the actual population.
Stop Asking the Wrong Question
The question isn't "Is this person too controversial to light a torch?"
The question is "Does this person represent a significant, driving force within the national psyche?"
If the answer is yes, then their exclusion is a lie. A national ceremony that tells a lie is worse than a ceremony that causes an international PR headache. It’s an admission that the state is ashamed of its own constituents.
We live in an era of performative outrage where "problematic" is the ultimate slur. But nation-building is inherently problematic. Defense is problematic. Survival is problematic. If you want a clean history and a sterile national identity, go join a country that hasn't had to fight for its life in three centuries.
The Rabbi lighting that torch isn't a sign of a failing democracy. It’s a sign of a country that is finished pretending it needs your permission to exist.
Throw away the style guide. Stop looking for "common ground" with people who want you to disappear. The torch is lit by the hands of those who are willing to hold it, not those who are waiting for the smoke to clear.
