Netanyahu Addresses the UN General Assembly

It was primed to be the speech of his life. On Friday, September 26, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu stood once again before the UN General Assembly. He’d been there before, many times, but this time, the stakes were different. Two years after the horrors of October 7, after dismantling Iran’s regional ambitions and crushing Hamas in Gaza, Israel stood alone. Israel was accused of genocide, targeting civilians, and starving innocents. While Israel buried its dead and rescued its hostages, the UK, Australia, and Canada – supposedly  allies – recognized a Palestinian state that does not exist. For Israelis, this is not politics. It is existential.

Netanyahu spoke for over 40 minutes. He’s a master of drama, and he turned the UN podium into a stage. He brought props – a map with checkmarks over defeated enemies and a pop quiz for the delegates. But the real audience was not in New York. It was in Gaza. The IDF had set up loudspeakers across the Strip, broadcasting the speech at maximum volume, hoping the 20 hostages still alive in Hamas tunnels would hear his words. In English and Hebrew, he told them: We have not forgotten you. Not for a moment. And we will not rest until you are home.

This was not just political theater. It was personal. It was national. Netanyahu was not speaking to diplomats – he was speaking to history. He was speaking to the ghosts of Entebbe, Munich, and Ma’alot. He was speaking to the families who sit with empty chairs at their Shabbat tables. He was speaking to the children who ask, “When is Abba coming home?”

He was speaking to the world that once said “Never again,” but now seems to mean “Never mind.”

Then, he turned to the world, and he didn’t hold back. He called out the weakness of Western leaders, accusing them of caving to pressure from their own radicals. His message: “You think throwing Israel to the wolves will save you, it won’t. You know you need to take a stand. And this is the place to take it.” He praised allies like President Trump and made it clear: Israel will not allow Iran to go nuclear. Not now. Not ever.

He closed with poetry: “On October 7, the enemies of Israel tried to extinguish our light. Two years later, the resolve of Israel and the strength of Israel burn brighter than ever. With G-d’s help, that strength and that resolve will lead us to a speedy victory and to a brilliant future of prosperity and peace.”

Now, I’ll be honest. My favorite part of the speech? Turning off the TV before the pundits started talking. I prefer reaching my own conclusions. And my conclusion? It was a good speech, but I’ve heard better.

In 1981, West German Chancellor Helmut Schmidt visited Saudi Arabia and made some comments about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. He spoke of Palestinian self-determination, moral balance, and the need for a Palestinian State. Menachem Begin, then Prime Minister of Israel, responded – not with diplomacy, but with fire. He reminded Schmidt of Germany’s moral debt, the Holocaust, and the six million murdered. And then he addressed the Knesset, not as a politician, but as a man who had seen death up close. “I came from the Underground,” he said. “I am not afraid of anyone.”

Begin’s speech was unforgettable. But what made it iconic wasn’t just the words – it was the yarmulka. Begin wasn’t religious. He rarely wore a yarmulka. But that day, he did. Because he understood something fundamental: this was not just about Israel. It was about the Jewish people. He saw antisemitism not as a relic, but as a recurring virus. Netanyahu sees it too. Netanyahu said in his speech, “Antisemitism dies hard. In fact, it doesn’t die at all.” But Begin didn’t just say it. He wore it. Not on his sleeve, but on his head.

A yarmulka isn’t a fashion statement. It’s a declaration. It’s not loud, but it’s persistent. It says: I belong to something bigger. It’s not armor – it’s alignment. It’s not just about faith – it’s about identity. You wear it in the lab, in the street, and in the synagogue. It’s a reminder that we walk through life with humility, with purpose, and with history.

Netanyahu stood at the podium as a proud Israeli. Begin stood as a proud Jew. And in moments like these, that difference matters.

But let’s go deeper. Begin’s yarmulka wasn’t just a symbol, it was a challenge. A challenge to the world to see us not as a political entity, but as a people. A people with memory, trauma, and resilience. A people who carry Auschwitz in one hand and a rifle in the other. A people who build startups and study Talmud. A people who bury their dead and dance at weddings. A people who fight wars and pray for peace.

That’s what makes the current moment so painful. The accusations against Israel are not just false, they are eerily familiar. Blood libels dressed in modern language. Genocide? Starvation? These are not critiques. They are echoes. Echoes of centuries of hatred, repackaged for the age of social media. When the world buys into them, it is not just Israel that suffers, it is the truth itself.

So yes, Netanyahu gave a strong speech, but Begin gave a stronger message. He reminded us that being Jewish is not just about surviving, it’s about standing. Standing tall. Standing proud. Standing with a yarmulka on your head and three thousand years of history in your heart.

Good things,

Ari Sacher