'We have work to do': Read Harvard Rabbi Hirschy Zarchi's full powerful speech

Rabbi Hirschy Zarchi, the founder and president of Harvard Chabad, made headlines this week with a powerful speech given on the Harvard University campus on the seventh night of Hanukkah. With a message of hope, Zarchi spoke about rampant Jew-hatred at Harvard, revealed that the university forces its Jewish community to pack up their menorah nightly after each lighting ceremony for fear of vandalism, and addressed Harvard President Claudine Gay directly.

A full transcription of Zarchi’s remarks:

We’re amongst friends here, a little bit informal, so I’m going to be very, very honest. It’s not been fun for me the last 24 hours. A lot of people are upset with

me, so I want to speak to that for a minute. but I will begin by quoting my teacher, Lubavitch Rebbe Menachem Mendel Schneerson. I was reviewing his writings recently about this holiday, and I found a note where he writes about the holiday as follows: 

“Tonight, we celebrate the seventh day of Hanukkah, the Jewish Festival of Lights. The holiday recalls the victory more than 2100 years ago of a militarily weak, but spiritually strong, Jewish people over a the mighty forces of a ruthless enemy that had overrun the holy land and threatened to engulf its land and its people in darkness. The miraculous victory culminating with the rededication of the sanctuary in Jerusalem and the rekindling of the Menorah, which had been desecrated and extinguished by the enemy, has been celebrated annually ever since during the eight days of Hannukah, and especially by lighting the menorah. The menorah stands as a symbol and a message of triumph of freedom over oppression, of spirit over matter, and of light over darkness.”

It’s a timely and reassuring message, for the forces of darkness are ever-present. Friends, we are gathering at a moment when the eyes of the world are upon us. Everybody’s looking at Harvard now. 

And it pains me. It pains me to have to say, sadly, that Jew-hate and anti-Semitism is thriving on this campus. Just last night, when we had the esteemed Professor Steven Pinker kindle the lights of Hanukkah, sharing publicly for the first time in his life about history in his family that he only recently learned– how his family was suffering and tortured in the pogroms of Kishinev, and new information that he learned about his family who were murdered in the Holocaust. While he’s sharing those words here at Harvard Yard, he’s the subject of hateful words, viciously accused and attacked for spreading lies, for sharing fake history. 

The last time we had President Gay with us was at Shabbat 1000. We heard how Harvard pledges to have our back. We didn’t feel it last night. There was no one watching over us, and there’s been yet no voice condemning what happened. 

You all know that we held a screening of the footage of the IDF. The Harvard police calls our family, advising us that we should get security for the night to protect our family– my wife and children– and our students, because we’re being accused of hosting a war criminal. I don’t feel that they had the back of me and my family and our community. 

Just this morning, we had the opportunity to gather with the chaplains. Twenty-six years I’ve gave my life to this community, I’ve never felt so alone. I sat in a room with 50 colleagues and I heard how they want to be more relevant on this campus, how they want more space, a greater platform. And to be clear, I’m sympathetic to that. We need more spaces, and we need more opportunities to share our messages. But my God, you want to be more relevant? The Harvard chaplains want to be more relevant? You had your time. You had your moment. When the faculty failed us. When leadership wasn’t speaking in a way that it should have. the faculty could have. The chaplains could have made themselves relevant and been the moral voice.

So when I…suggested that to my colleagues today, this morning, I asked where were they to condemn the genocide attack on the Jewish people. Not a word from the Harvard chaplains till this day. I asked them where were they to defend our community when chants of intifada were shouted on this campus. I asked them if there was a single community ever in the history of this campus that would have words of intifada shouted on them, would the chaplains not speak about it, not condemn it. 

Yeah, friends you have to understand. I’m a kid, you know, maybe my years are getting up with me– I remember growing up haunted by the question, like many of you maybe have as well: Where was the world during the Holocaust? How could it be? I couldn’t understand. Where was America? I could never imagine living in a world, with the world, and being silent. 

So I grew up hearing about intifada coming out of the Middle East from the most extreme hateful terrorists. And by the way, what is intifada? I mean, don’t make me feel old. Here’s what intifada means: Intifada meant that the pizza shop where the 5-year-olds and the 7-year-old were eating pizza were blowing up to death. When young teenagers were going to cafe shops and having coffee and going on a date– murdered. When Jewish families gathered for a Seder table, their body parts were thrown all over the walls of a hotel in Netanya. When Holocaust survivors were on buses in Israel, buses were blowing up. That’s intifada. Who? The most extreme monsters and terrorists in the Middle East. 

At Harvard’s campus in America? At Harvard? ‘Globalize the Intifada?’ And they normalized it. Yes, they quote. It’s normalized. 

I watch, I come to the yard. Faculty walk, adults  Just “What’s what’s new? What’s what’s the latest score? What’s, you know, what’s

up?” Completely desensitized and indifferent to the call for murder of Jews. Where’s the outrage? Where’s the condemnation? So I say this to my colleagues this morning, I’m attacked. That I’m misrepresenting what the ‘intifada’means. Intifada one, intifada two. This is intifa–  And then I understood all I had to know. 

Look, I’m not supposed to be the story. It’s never supposed to be about me, but…somehow, it became that Elkie and I are representatives of this Jewish community. I was attacked, and maligned, and slandered for millions of people in the world. According to the Harvard Crimson– it wasn’t ambiguous, you all know there’s a video of it– it’s online that Rabbi Zarchi spoke about the Hamas terrorists. Ambiguous? Maybe he also spoke about those who support the terrorists, but I was slandered as if I spoke somehow about those who call for a ceasefire– which I never mentioned the word even, as you know. And I don’t want to get into that, those who called for a cease fire without the return of the hostages. 

Not a single member of the chaplains, not a single member of the faculty, not a single voice at Harvard spoke out– that’s not about me–  to express condemnation for engaging in an utter slander to a representative of the Jewish community. I’m sorry– there was a voice. There was 100 faculty who wrote a letter. They didn’t mention me by name. The Crimson saysthey’re referring to me, because I called for the removal of a proctor who supports terrorism and

calls for the Beast of Zionism to be slain. So Diana Eck says to the Harvard magazine that…he’s the source of concern on this campus. She won’t condemn Hamas. she won’t condemn the chants for intifada. I’m the problem. 

Someone who a previous president of Harvard had to denounce for violating university code of conduct for entering the Harvard dining halls harassing the employees there, that she had no mandate or authority over, and demanding and insisting that they remove the SodaStream machines– a company who went bankrupt as a result of those kinds of efforts – where by the way 500 Palestinians lost their job, because that’s who those Israelis were employing and giving dignity to, and a source of income to support their families. So she violated University code of conduct in 2014, had to be condemned by the Harvard president for doing so at the time. So do you wonder why university code of conduct is violated by students when the faculty do it and get away with it? And she goes and accuses me, I’m the problem in this moment of History? 

You know, you know, I’m sorry. And the reason I’m sorry is because, I’m…listening to the echo of what I just said, and I’m afraid that some of it may have sounded coming from a place of anger. And that’s not where it was coming from, because one of the most inspiring things that I had this holiday of Hanukkah are these lightings. I came out here every night, and I looked in the eyes of those gathered, and you know what I saw? I saw love. I saw hope. I saw hope for a better tomorrow. I saw that after 2,000 years of Exile, that the Jewish people are still believe in the possibilities of a better day, and still want to come together, and believe that the better angels of all…will come to surface and overwhelm the negative energy. 

We come together to honor and to celebrate the gift of light over darkness. So I don’t want that to get lost in my words today. It’s words of pain, but I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t believe that we could make a difference. And that’s what’s required of all of us. We spoke a lot and there’s more to discuss, but it’s time we start acting. And you know, I think it’s very appropriate to tell the story of the history of this Menorah. 

It was 24 years ago that a Aviva Preminger a member of the class of ‘29 approached the then-Dean of Students at Harvard College, Dean Archie Epps, the beloved figure– and she requested could the Jewish community have a menorah in Harvard Yard. And his initial answer wa, no, it can’t happen, because in Harvard we don’t have religious symbols in the yard. So she looked out his office, which was in Harvard Yard and took a little peek to the church, and to his credit, Dean Archie Epps, he gave a big smile, and he says, ‘Aviva go put up your menorah.’ 

That was a great moment, but there’s something that, never spoke about this publicly, but this bothers me till this very day. You know what happens to the menorah? After everyone leaves the yard, we’re going to pack it up. We have to hide it somewhere. The university, since that first Hanukkah, would not allow us to keep this menorah here overnight, because there’s fear that it’ll be vandalized. Think about that. 

We’re trying to fix the world, the future leaders of the world? On our campus in the shadow of Widener Library, we and the Jewish community are instructed: We’ll let you have the Menorah; you made your point okay? Pack it up. Don’t leave it out overnight because there will be criminal activity, we fear, and it won’t look good.

You know when  change is going to happen on this campus? When we don’t have to pack up the menorah. When the current Dean of Students is not able to tell me last Shabbat over dinner that a student confides in him that he looks in the mirror before he leaves his dorm room to ensure that there’s nothing on his physical appearance that gives away the fact that he’s a Jew. 

That’s the reality of the Jewish community in Harvard today. We have to pack up our menorah when we’re done. Students have to remove anything– some students feel they have to remove anything about their physical appearance that suggests that they’re a target.  We have work to do friends. We’re going to light the candle tonight. Tonight we’re at 7. It’s a full cycle. we have with us Professor Jeff Bussgang to recite the blessings, and we’re delighted to have President Gay with us. 

I must say, from the first time we met I was touched by your warmth, by your generosity,. And I said to you something privately about a year ago when we met. It was actually just around the holiday of Hanukkah. I hope I’m not– you know, it was it was a private conversation, and it was a reality that you were inheriting. And you  spoke to that point. There’s a long history to this, and we shared some of it tonight. But it’s my hope, and I know I speak for everyone here, that we can work together with you and your dedication to be, as we saw recently in the email, you were referred to as our President. We in the Jewish community are longing for a day that we could refer to the president, and all of Harvard, as ours too. That Harvard has indeed not only has our back, and not only allows us to finally put up a menorah, but doesn’t Force us to hide it at night. And when they witness hateful calls to the death of Jews, you don’t walk by and say nothing, you speak. You don’t remain silent. 

And let’s hope that, indeed, we’ll be able to look at the light of the Hanukkah candles and see only its light, because the power of its light will eliminate all the darkness… and transform our community to a place that will be indeed a beacon of light, not only to the lives, to the hearts and minds of all our students, but indeed through our students and through our community to the world. So in conclusion, we’re hopeful. We’re very hopeful, but we know hope alone is not enough. We commit to doing all that we can together, to do all that we need to do to ensure a brighter, and more illuminating, and indeed as the candles also give a warmth, a more war a warmer and more loving tomorrow.