“It could never happen in Pittsburgh” was once a common mantra. When I arrived in Pittsburgh nearly 40 years ago from New York City, it seemed like a cross between a quiet village and a Hollywood stage set designed to depict peace and security. The late Fred Rodgers, the cardigan-attired former minister and later star of Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood lived four blocks from my house in a heavily Jewish community. This was close to the Tree of Life Synagogue, a sanctuary where I previously worshipped. Fred Rogers famously comforted children worldwide with the soothing saying, “I love you just the way you are.”
In 2015, America wasn’t yet rocked by mass shootings. Still, a watershed event occurred on June 17 of that year: Nine Blacks were murdered during a Bible study at the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston, South Carolina. Previously, I had no interest in carrying a firearm and certainly not in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.
But if Christians were being killed in Church, how long would it be, I wondered, until Jews were murdered in synagogues?
With a shot heard worldwide, the answer came just three years later, on October 27, 2018. Eleven Jews worshipping in the Tree of Life were murdered by a deranged antisemite shouting that he wanted all Jews to die. Among those were a 97-year-old grandmother, two brothers with special needs beloved by the local community, and Dr. Jerry Rabinowitz, a bowtie-donning, a 66-year-old physician whom I knew as a professional colleague. He was killed when he ran outside to attend to the wounded.
It took only another year for the Poway synagogue shooting in 2019. The violence has since spread to pandemic proportions in the United States. Within the first month of 2023, there have been more mass shootings in the United States (thirty-nine) than there have been days.
Within the first month of 2023, there have been more mass shootings in the United States (thirty-nine) than there have been days.
Although I was never interested in carrying a weapon, and certainly not in Pittsburgh, I intuited that it was only a matter of time. I bought a Smith and Weston 9-millimeter handgun, obtained the too-easily accessible license to carry, began bi-weekly practice sessions, and studied combat psychology. I carried only on Shabbat and Jewish celebrations. If you asked me if I thought a mass shooting would happen in a Pittsburgh synagogue a part of me would say no. But if I were investing time and money to prepare for the possibility, another part disagreed. I was heartbroken but not shocked when the massacre did happen.
When I made aliyah to southeast Jerusalem, living along the green line in earshot of the five daily muezzin calls to prayer, I learned that this location was an area eligible for a gun permit. But one could apply only after three years of being an Israeli citizen. The logic of this restriction confounded me. I presume it went something like this: “If you are still alive after three years, let us know, and we will consider your application.” I also heard that if you are 70 years old, you are no longer eligible for a first license, only renewals for those previously licensed. I turned 70 one month before my third year of citizenship.
In the United States where Jews had never experienced a massacre until recently, it required some prescience to see it coming. In Israel, one need not rely on intuition that this might happen. It has been a part of our earliest history and is still happening with shocking frequency. The current government is encouraging those that own guns to carry them and is moving towards making it easier to obtain new licenses. The debate is heating up. Some argue that more guns will result in more violence, especially against women.
An Israeli woman who was pregnant when her husband was murdered by a terrorist shortly before she gave birth offered an opposing view. She pointed out that the mass murder of the seven Jews near a synagogue on Neve Yaakov Street could have been followed by another massacre if not for the two passers-by carrying licensed weapons who neutralized the Arab terrorist.
Several life-saving lessons can be learned from these events:
The lesson from the United States and beyond is that antisemitism is spreading virally and violently. This is not the same world that Jabotinsky and Begin inhabited, but their urgent pleas for Jewish self-defense are applicable today.
The second lesson is that Israel, unlike the United States with its constitutionally enshrined right to bear arms, is not considering adopting an unrestricted proliferation of armed citizens. The new, less restrictive guidelines will continue vetting the applicants and will maintain reasonable requirements for training.
Lastly, one could argue that murderers have killed more Americans than murderers have been neutralized or eliminated by licensed gun carriers. The reverse is true in Israel, where many lives have been saved by responsible gun carriers thwarting attacks or reducing the casualties.
I organized a vigil in Jerusalem for the shloshim of the Pittsburgh victims and 150 people attended. Prayers, songs, and memorializing these lost heroes are healing for the living.
But the revised laws that responsibly increase the number of guns in Israeli hands will reduce the need for more vigils.
Robert M. Schwartz, Ph.D., is a clinical psychologist and former assistant professor of psychiatry and psychology at the University of Pittsburgh School of Medicine. In addition to writing scientific articles on positive psychology, he has published social commentaries on topical issues.