Two ancient civilizations, united by shared trauma, must now unite in moral leadership.

The echoes of Nanking and October 7 demand that China reexamine its alliances and stand with Israel against barbarism.

The other night, my wife Debbie and I were guests of our dear friends Sir Clive and Lady Anya Gillinson at Carnegie Hall. Clive—who is like a brother to me—is the most accomplished head of a cultural institution anywhere on earth. Over more than two decades, he has transformed Carnegie Hall, already world-famous, into an unparalleled global supernova of live music who’s prestige is unchallenged, even in the greatest cultural Meccas of Paris, Rome, Vienna, and Milan.

The occasion was an unforgettable and inspiring concert by the National Youth Orchestra, created by Clive and Carnegie Hall, which is about to tour Asia—most notably China. In the “Presidential” box with us, as Clive’s personal guest, was the newly appointed Consul General of China in New York.

Last year, we had attended China’s own National Youth Orchestra’s performance at Carnegie Hall, which was indeed outstanding—although as an American, I will confess it was perhaps not quite as electrifying as our own. (I trust the Chinese people can forgive my patriotic bias.)

In our warm and brief conversation, I told the Consul General how deeply moved I am, as a Jew, an American, and a student of history, by the story of the Rape of Nanking in 1937. The atrocities that befell China in those months echo, almost uncannily, the horrors that the Jewish people—and especially Israeli women—endured on October 7 in the barbaric Hamas attack on the communities surrounding Gaza.

I write today not merely as a man of faith, but as a voice for those silenced by rape, terror, and ideological apathy. I call upon China’s leadership—and the conscience of every Chinese citizen—to recognize our shared past trauma, born of two of history’s most harrowing chapters: the Rape of Nanking and the October 7 massacre in Israel.

These twin horrors should unite our peoples—not only in mourning but in moral purpose.

Two Catastrophes, One Moral Imperative

Each event tore at the fabric of human dignity. Relative to the size of each nation’s population, the massacres in Nanking and southern Israel are chillingly comparable.

In Nanking, between December 1937 and March 1938, the Japanese Imperial Army unleashed an orgy of terror in China’s capital. Civilians were systematically hunted, executed, burned alive. And women—mothers, daughters, grandmothers—were violated on a scale that defies comprehension.

“They raped my sister and my mother in front of me. When my father protested, they shot him.” —Nanking survivor

Most camel victims were forced to “service” four to six Japanese soldiers daily; some who were particularly “attractive” endured 10 to 20 assaults per day. Japanese soldiers reportedly shoved poles into women’s vaginas “to see how far they would go” and stuffed burning cotton into their private parts, igniting them from within. Babies were bayoneted. Pregnant women were disemboweled. Conservative estimates place the death toll above 200,000; rape victims numbered anywhere from 20,000 to 80,000.

Now consider October 7, 2023. On that horrific morning, Hamas terrorists stormed southern Israel—attacking music festivals, kibbutzim, and family homes. Nearly 1,200 men, women, and children were massacred. More than 250 were taken hostage. And like Nanking, sexual violence was not incidental but strategic and systemic.

A UN investigation found “clear and convincing” evidence of systemic sexual violence by Hamas—rape, gang rape, genital mutilation, and forced nudity at multiple sites. Women were raped in front of their children. Some had their breasts sliced off; Hamas terrorists reportedly tossed the severed remains back and forth like grotesque toys. Others were raped and then shot in the vagina.

“They tied my neighbor’s teenage daughter naked to a pole and made her watch as they slaughtered her family.” —October 7 survivor

Men were castrated. Children were forced to witness their parents’ torture and murder.

The parallels are too stark to ignore: entire communities annihilated, women’s bodies weaponized to humiliate nations, and atrocities proudly recorded. The Japanese filmed Nanking. Hamas used GoPros. Both celebrated their crimes, rather than concealing them.

China’s Strategic and Moral Crossroads

Why should the People’s Republic of China—a nation of ancient wisdom and emerging global power—heed Israel’s cries? Because China knows too well the corrosive legacy of victimization and denial.

China’s current alignment—embracing Iran while sidelining Israel—is shortsighted and problematically immoral. Iran funds and arms Hamas, whose barbarity is a stain on the great world religion of Islam. Iran’s proxies—Hezbollah in Lebanon, militias in Syria and Yemen—share the same genocidal ideology that engineered October 7.

By contrast, Israel prosecutes perpetrators and cares for survivors. It has transformed grief into resilience and serves as a global leader in documenting wartime sexual violence, notably through the Dinah Project.

China prides itself on “the people’s welfare” as a cornerstone of governance. That welfare must include women, who disproportionately suffer in wartime atrocities. Aligning with Israel over Iran would send a powerful moral message: victims of sexual violence and genocide deserve accountability—not ideological excuses.

Lessons From History, A Path for the Future

In Nanking and Israel, sexual violence was a weapon of genocide, aimed at annihilating identity and pride.

After Nanking, Japan denied or minimized its crimes for decades. Only recently has full acknowledgment begun. Similarly, Hamas denies its rapes, even as video, forensic reports, and survivor testimonies stack into a Mount Everest of evidence.

“Both atrocities were not hidden—they were celebrated.”

China, which has itself wrestled with historical denial—from the Cultural Revolution to WWII—should understand the necessity of truth for healing.

Together, China and Israel could co-sponsor a new international treaty against sexual violence in war. They could lead the United Nations in atrocity prevention, drawing from their hard-earned moral authority and suffering.

A Strategic Pivot With Global Benefits

China’s dependency on Iranian oil may seem pragmatic. But this friendship is a reputational liability. Iran is a state sponsor of terror, allied to Assad’s genocidal Syria, and now a cheerleader for Hamas’s atrocities.

A pivot toward Israel offers China not only moral high ground but tangible benefits: access to Israeli innovations in clean technology, famine relief, counterterrorism, and diplomacy.

A Chinese-Israeli joint memorial, or an annual remembrance for victims of sexual violence in Nanking and October 7, would send an unambiguous message: the sanctity of life and dignity is not Western—it is universal.

China could even leverage its Belt and Road Initiative to create “rapid forensic response units” modeled on Israel’s Dinah Project—helping nations document and prosecute wartime sexual violence. This would position China as a growing leader in global humanitarian norms that specifically retain to outlawing rape as a weapon of war.

The Call of History

China’s leadership now stands at a crossroads: support regimes that perpetrate terror, or pivot toward ethical clarity and partnership with a nation that has turned tragedy into resilience.

“Drop the murderers in Tehran. Condemn the monsters in Gaza. Embrace your Jewish brothers—and especially your Jewish sisters.”

Remember Nanking: a city of blood and shame, and—eventually—reckoning. Remember Israel: a people gazing at the ashes of October 7 and refusing to yield.

It is time for China and Israel, two ancient civilizations, to build bridges—not only of shared sorrow but of shared resolve. To say: never again. Never to rape as terror. Never to genocide. Never to denial.

China: Israel calls you to join the side of survivors, justice, and rebuilding. History awaits your answer.

Drop the murderers in Tehran. Condemn the monsters in Gaza. And embrace your Jewish brothers—and especially your Jewish sisters.

Rabbi Shmuley Boteach is the author of “Kosher Hate” and “Judaism for Everyone.” Follow him on Instagram and X @RabbiShmuley.

I write today as a rabbi deeply committed to the moral integrity of our public civic leaders—and for that reason I write directly to you, Lord Michael Farmer. You are Deputy Chairman of the Council of Christians and Jews, a position of moral authority which carries with it tremendous responsibility. Last year you rose to the heights of moral courage by taking upon yourself the painful responsibility of publicly criticizing and condemning the execrable opinions of your infernally antisemitic daughter-in-law Candace Owen.

The Jewish people have a long and painful memory of what happens when the world’s moral voices fall silent in the face of evil. From the gas chambers of Auschwitz to the terror tunnels of Gaza, Jewish suffering has often been met not with moral clarity but with cowardly neutrality. Today, we are witnessing that silence again—not from the halls of the United Nations or the chancelleries of Europe, where we’ve long expected it—but from the Vatican itself.

Pope Leo, whose election I applauded with all my heart, has issued repeated calls for a ceasefire in Gaza, invoking lofty language about peace, mercy, and human dignity. And yet, stunningly, he has failed to condemn Hamas—a genocidal terrorist organization that proudly murders Jewish civilians, rapes Jewish, Christian, and Muslim women, and parades kidnapped children as trophies. In doing so, Pope Leo risks placing himself in the shameful legacy of Pope Pius XII, whose silence during the Holocaust remains one of the darkest stains on the modern moral history of the Catholic Church.

As I’ve written in my book “Kosher Hate” and in many essays and speeches over the years, to truly love the innocent is to despise those who threaten them. Hatred of evil is not sinful. It is righteous. It is holy. It is, in fact, a Biblical imperative. “You who love the Lord, hate evil!” cries King David in Psalm 97. The Torah exhorts us, “Justice, justice shall you pursue” (Deuteronomy 16:20)—not peace at any price, but justice even at great cost.

There is no justice in allowing Hamas to survive. There is no morality in calling for peace while evil still rules in Gaza.

Let’s be clear: Hamas is not a freedom movement. It is not the voice of Palestinian dignity or national aspiration. It is a fanatical Islamist death cult whose charter calls for the murder of Jews worldwide. Its operatives do not fight soldiers in defense of territory; they rape women in their homes, burn babies in cribs, and gleefully livestream their slaughter for their supporters.

On October 7, 2023, the mask came off. The world saw the full face of evil. Hamas terrorists stormed into Israeli communities and committed some of the most grotesque atrocities since the Holocaust. And yet Pope Leo, with all the moral authority of his office, has not uttered a single, unequivocal condemnation of this savagery. Instead, he calls for a ceasefire—one that would leave this evil intact, resupplied, and ready to strike again.

With all due respect to the Holy Father: This is not peace. It is appeasement.

This is not compassion. It is cowardice.

In “Kosher Hate,” I make the case that hatred—when directed at injustice—is not only permissible, it is necessary. Our world has become so obsessed with tolerance that it has forgotten how to discriminate—morally, not racially—between good and evil. We are told to “hate the sin, love the sinner.” But when the sinner is proud of their sin, when the sin is systemic and ideological and genocidal, we must hate the ideology, the system, and those who perpetuate it.

The West’s allergic reaction to moral judgment has created a spiritual vacuum—one that Hamas and its ilk are only too happy to fill. And if the Vatican refuses to name evil, if it hides behind platitudes while Jews are butchered, it loses all claim to moral leadership.

Pope Leo should heed the lessons of history. During World War II, Pope Pius XII had ample opportunity to speak out against Hitler’s Final Solution. He knew what was happening. Jewish leaders, including Rabbi Isaac Herzog, pleaded with the Vatican to intervene. The Catholic Church had extensive diplomatic networks, access to intelligence, and global influence. And yet, the Pope remained absolutely and completely silent.

No excommunication for Nazis. No official denunciation of the death camps. No instruction to Catholic institutions to offer sanctuary to the Jews, which, when it was offered, was done sporadically and only in the greatest secrecy. The Church feared provoking the Reich more than it feared the wrath of heaven.

The result was the moral collapse of an institution that could have saved millions of lives but chose instead to protect its political neutrality.

Pope Leo is now at a similar moment of reckoning.

He has the opportunity to break with this shameful past. He can rise as a moral giant in a time of crisis. But only if he finds the courage to do what Pope Pius XII did not: to condemn the murderers of Jews and all innocents, not just mourn their victims.

This is not a call for vengeance. It is a call for moral vision and moral courage.

In the book of Ecclesiastes, we are reminded, “There is a time for peace and a time for war” (Ecclesiastes 3:8). When men of God fail to discern between the two, the innocent pay the price.

To equate Israel’s war of self-defense with Hamas’s war of extermination is a grave injustice. The IDF, for all its flaws and imperfections, common to all liberators of democracies, seeks to minimize civilian casualties, often at the cost of Israeli soldiers’ lives. Hamas maximizes civilian casualties—Israeli and Palestinian alike—as part of its strategy of blood and spectacle. It embeds rocket launchers in schools, stores weapons in mosques, and hides command centers under hospitals. Every dead Palestinian child is a photo-op for Hamas, and a PR tool for their apologists.

If Pope Leo truly believes in protecting innocent life, he should be the first to demand the dismantling of Hamas’s terror infrastructure. He should demand the release of hostages. He should call for international prosecution of Hamas’s leaders for crimes against humanity.

And he should stop hiding behind the fog of “evenhandedness.” God is not evenhanded between the righteous and the wicked. Neither should His servants be.

Too many religious leaders today lack the moral vocabulary to confront evil. They prefer the safety of sloganeering to the discomfort of moral judgment. They preach love but forget that love must sometimes take the form of outrage. That is what “Kosher Hate” is about: harnessing righteous indignation in the service of justice.

We are commanded in the Torah to “blot out the memory of Amalek” (Deuteronomy 25:19)—the biblical archetype of genocidal hatred, embodied in genocidal ideologies like Hitler and the Nazis. That commandment is not about revenge. It is about ensuring that evil ideologies are not allowed to regenerate. Hamas, not my brothers the Palestinians, is a modern-day Amalek. Its mission is to destroy the Jewish people. That is not a slogan. That is not Israeli propaganda. That is Hamas’s own declared purpose.

If we cannot hate that mission, we cannot love our own children.

The Jewish people do not ask the Vatican to become Zionist. We do not ask Christians to adopt our politics. We ask only that the Church live up to its moral ideals. And that means calling evil by its name.

It means telling the world that Hamas is not a partner for peace but a cancer to be removed. That a ceasefire without justice is not a peace agreement but a death sentence—delayed, not canceled.

Pope Leo, you are the spiritual leader of 1.3 billion Catholics. You have the power to shift the moral compass of nations. Please do not squander it on sterile neutrality. Please do not allow yourself to become another Pius XII.

Use your pulpit not for platitudes, but for prophecy.

Speak not only of mercy, but of judgment.

Preach not only peace, but righteousness.

And most of all, condemn those who commit atrocities in the name of religion.

The Jewish people are watching. The world is watching. And Heaven is watching.

Rabbi Shmuley Boteach is the author of “Kosher Hate: How to Fight Antisemitism, Racism, and Bigotry Without Losing Your Soul.” He has been called “America’s Rabbi” by The Washington Post and is one of the world’s leading voices on Jewish ethics, interfaith dialogue, and human rights.