In a recent worldwide public opinion poll tracking international sentiment, Israel was ranked as the single least popular country in the entire world. It recorded a negative perception score that placed it at the very bottom of the global list, ranking even lower than brutal, oppressive dictatorships like North Korea and Afghanistan. How does a society reach a point where a vibrant democracy, fighting a defensive war against asymmetric terror, is branded more unfavorably than literal totalitarian regimes? The answer lies in a widespread cultural failure that is actually addressed by a striking detail in the layout of the Torah.
In the weekly readings, the story of Pinchas is strangely split in two. Pinchas does a very dramatic and extreme act to save the Jewish people at the very end of one Torah portion (Parashat Balak). But God’s reward to him-the Covenant of Peace-is delayed. It does not appear until the next Torah portion (Parashat Pinchas). Why separate the action from the reward?
Rabbi Moshe MiKutzi, a great early scholar and author of the Sefer Mitzvot Gadol (the Smag), explains that when someone does something extreme, it looks highly suspect on the surface. To an outsider, extreme actions look identical to personal anger, ego, or violence. If Pinchas had acted out of personal hate or cruelty, he would have been punished as a criminal, not praised as a hero. Therefore, the Torah forces a pause. This break teaches us a vital lesson: Before we judge an intense action, we must stop, step back, and look at the true intent and context. This is the origin of the "Torah Pause."
Today, this lesson matters more than ever because the nations of the world have fallen completely into a trap, entirely abandoning this necessary hesitation. The way wars are fought has completely changed; the primary battlefield is no longer just physical but has shifted to social media and internet feeds. Our enemies understand this perfectly. They know that people no longer pause to think, and they use this speed to drive a radical religious ideology: Jihad.
Groups motivated by jihad are not looking for political compromise; they want the total destruction of the Jewish state. Because they cannot defeat Israel with conventional weapons, they use a brutal strategy. They deliberately hide behind their own civilians-launching missiles from schools, hospitals, and mosques-to force Israel to fire back in self-defense. The jihadists then capture the tragic, unavoidable photos of the destruction and blast them across the internet. By stripping away the context-erasing the fact that Israel is acting in pure defense against genocidal terror-they trigger instant, emotional outrage in a global audience that refuses to pause and think.
This global anger is not an accident. It is a highly funded, engineered campaign. Israel’s enemies-especially wealthy, oil-rich nations-spend billions of dollars to control what people see online and in universities. They fund massive media networks and digital campaigns to spread uncontextualized, highly emotional footage designed to manufacture rage.
The reason the world swallows this propaganda so easily is that it taps directly into the world's oldest hatred: antisemitism. Antisemitism has survived for centuries by changing its outfit. In the past, Jews were hated for their religion; later, they were targeted for their race. Today, traditional antisemitism has been repackaged as "anti-Zionism." The exact same old lies-that Jews are uniquely evil, cruel, and deceptive-are now directed at the collective Jew of the world: the State of Israel.
The multi-billion-dollar media campaigns do not need to invent new hatred; they simply activate these old antisemitic feelings. By presenting Israel's defensive actions out of context, they allow a deeply biased global community to comfortably attack Israel under the guise of "human rights," leading directly to the upside-down reality of that global poll.
There is a powerful reason why we must internalize this lesson right now. The Torah portion of Pinchas is almost always read during the Three Weeks-the period of mourning on the Jewish calendar marking the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash (the Holy Temple). Our Sages teach that the Temple was destroyed because of sinas chinam (baseless hatred). Baseless hatred happens when people refuse to give others the benefit of the doubt, rushing instead to judge, condemn, and spread rumors. When we let engineered internet clips and viral outrage dictate how we view Israel, or how we view each other, we are falling into the exact same trap that caused our exile. Feeds designed to maximize anger thrive on creating baseless hatred.
The biggest danger is that we, too, might fall into this exact same trap. We cannot afford to view the world through the lens of instant, engineered internet outrage. The space between the two Torah portions is a divine warning. It calls on us to practice the "Torah Pause."
The Torah Pause is the deliberate, strong choice to freeze before we react. It means that when a headline, a video clip, or a news report flashes across our screens designed to make us doubt, condemn, or panic, we actively hold back our judgment. We refuse to let our emotions be manipulated by the immediate, loud consensus of the crowd.
Instead, the Torah Pause demands that we step back, seek out the objective facts, look at the deeper context, and understand the real existential threats facing our people. In an era where information is weaponized to distort the truth, mastering the Torah Pause is our ultimate defense. By refusing to judge instantly, we stand firm with Israel, defeat the engineered narrative of our enemies, and help heal the baseless hatred that still threatens the Jewish people today.
Rabbi Eliezer Simcha Weisz is a member of the Israeli Chief Rabbinate Council.