This week Rabbi Zvi Kogan, the Chabad shliach to Abu Dhabi in the United Arab Emirates, was kidnapped and murdered by terrorists in a targeted antisemitic attack.
He left behind his wife of under two years, Rivky. Rivky is also the niece of Rabbi Gabi and Rivky Holtzberg, who were murdered in a similar targeted attack in 2008 in Mumbai. Kogan was buried earlier this week in Israel and the funeral was broadcast throughout the world.
Kogan lived as an exemplary Jew. He was a valiant soldier in Israel’s Givati Brigade, a devoted and loving husband, a friend to all, and a Chabad emissary to the UAE.
After he married, he joined the rebbe’s army, deployed all over the world to help inspire and educate other Jews, and connect them to their heritage and people. Kogan was a new generation of hassid, brought up after the rebbe’s passing but still passionate about the ideals of Chabad.
He did not have the privilege that I, and many of my friends, had to be nurtured personally by the rebbe. Yet he was full of idealism, and with his young wife moved to the UAE to dedicate his life to others.
This weekend is Chabad’s family reunion, the annual conference – Kinus Hashluchim. From across the globe, some 5,000 shluchim (emissaries) will converge on Brooklyn. We’ve all seen the iconic picture of thousands of rabbis in front of 770, the Chabad headquarters in New York. But this time, we come with broken hearts, as one of our best had his life snuffed out by terror in the UAE.
This reunion will bring a sort of comfort of seeing old friends, exchanging words of Torah and hassidic stories. But this year, the gathering will be stained by the sadness we all have.
As hassidim, the lessons of hope and optimism we learned from the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, guide us. In 1956, terrorists attacked the village of Kfar Chabad, just outside of Tel Aviv, taking the lives of four children and a teacher. At the time, Kfar Chabad was small, a concentration of Holocaust survivors and Russian refugees who had escaped the oppressive Communist regime. The pre-1967 border was not far away, and many thought of abandoning the town.
The rebbe’s response was decisive, “it’s time to build, to do more.” He insisted that they open a school for children, and just 30 days after the attack, the groundbreaking for a vocational school for immigrants was held.
The rebbe dispatched a dozen of his best yeshiva students from New York to prop up the fledgling community. In retrospect, it was a turning point for Chabad in Israel. In the wake of the disaster, the small town began to grow. The passionate hassidic spirit of the rebbe’s students who were brought from Brooklyn imbued the fledgling hassidic community with a new sense of purpose and vibrancy. It is now a bustling center for Chabad in Israel.
This weekend, with 5,000 of my closest friends – the rebbe’s army of shluchim – we will sit at farbrengens (hassidic gatherings) late into the night, broken, yet with intent to build. Rabbis from Cambodia, Alaska, the Congo, and Melbourne will sit at one table sharing their personal connection to our dear Rabbi Zvi. As hassidim, we will focus on the future and the rebbe’s vision. We will plan what we will do to keep Zvi Kogen’s memory alive.
Jewish people reaching out
Over the last few days, Jews of all stripes have reached out to me. It has been uplifting to see those with whom I share profound theological differences crossing the ideological divide to console me over this loss. I am sure that my experience has been the same for thousands of my fellow shluchim. The lesson is a powerful one: yes, as Jews we tend to disagree, but at our core, we are one people. The terrible murder of Zvi Kogan has strengthened those bonds and may be the most important lesson of all.
As Jews, we have a shared destiny. In a time when Israel is fighting a battle for its existence, this ideal is even more important, as heroic soldiers of the IDF are putting their lives on the line for their people and over a hundred Israelis languish in Hamas captivity.
Let’s take Zvi Kogan’s life as an inspiration. He did not go to the UAE to help hassidim, he came to care for Jews, all Jews. Some may not have shared his religious beliefs, but he went there because he cared about Jewish destiny. In his memory, let us reach out to another Jew – in particular, one with different views – and strengthen the bonds between us.
The writer, a rabbi, is a senior Chabad shliach in California and the author of the upcoming biography of the sixth Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneerson, Undaunted, to be published by Koren. His email is rabbi@ocjewish.com.
