Jewish enemies play dirty games, and the Jews must play to win.
It is not enough to merely outlast those who wish to harm us. Our calling is to transform the blows into a deeper resilience, a renewed culture, and a flourishing Jewish future.
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In the late 1980s and early 1990s, the Detroit Pistons perfected a defensive strategy against Michael Jordan, known as “The Jordan Rules.”
It wasn’t elegant basketball; it was physical punishment. Anytime Jordan drove to the rim, the Pistons would hammer him, double-team him, drag him down, and make every point a bruising ordeal.
The message was simple: If you want to win a championship, you have to go through us. Literally.
And yet, Jordan didn’t complain. He didn’t beg the referees for more fouls or appeal to the league office citing “dirty basketball.” Instead, he transformed himself. He spent the offseason building muscle, strengthening his body, and training his mind to endure and overcome.
Eventually, Jordan didn’t just get past the Pistons; he conquered the entire league and went on to win six NBA championships, cementing himself as the greatest basketball player of all time.
The Jewish People’s ‘Jordan Rules’
Throughout history, Jews have faced our own version of “The Jordan Rules.” Every time we’ve tried to move forward, forces have risen to push us down. From exile and pogroms, to the Shoah, to waves of wars, terrorism, and delegitimization of Israel today, the Jewish People have always been met with a world willing to hit hard and hit often.
Like Jordan, we’ve never had the luxury of relying on referees. The “refs” of history — the nations, the international courts, the world powers — rarely stepped in to protect us. When we looked for fairness, we often found silence. When we sought allies, we often found betrayal.
And so, like Jordan, we learned to strengthen ourselves.
The State of Israel is the most powerful manifestation of this choice. When the world’s “rules” tried to knock us down, we built an army, an economy, and a culture strong enough to withstand the blows. The result has been not only survival, but triumph.
Don’t whine. Win.
Michael Jordan’s greatness came not only from talent, but from his refusal to be defined by victimhood. He didn’t waste his career protesting the injustice of the Pistons’ tactics. He absorbed the pain, transformed it into motivation, and emerged stronger.
The same applies to us as Jews today. Antisemitism is real, vicious, and resurgent. But if our primary response is to complain to “the refs” — whether governments, social media platforms, or NGOs — we’ll stay stuck in the cycle of outrage. The real path forward is to do what Jordan did: get stronger. Build better Jewish education. Fortify our institutions. Deepen Jewish identity so that every Jew is equipped to take the hits and keep going.
History shows that nobody is coming to save us. We must, as Jordan did, save ourselves.
Discipline Over Emotion
Jordan never allowed his emotions to rule him. Even under constant harassment, he didn’t retaliate with cheap fouls or let anger derail him. He disciplined himself to respond with excellence, not vengeance.
For Jews, this is just as critical. We are constantly provoked — whether by antisemitic rhetoric, unfair coverage in the media, or hostile neighbors on the world stage. The temptation is to lash out in anger. But the real strength lies in discipline: staying true to our values, acting with clarity, and refusing to let our enemies dictate our emotional state.
And when the blows escalate from words to war, the same principle applies. When Iranian terror proxies or Hamas unleash rockets, terror, and psychological warfare meant to rattle our confidence and break our spirit, we don’t cry foul and wait for the “refs” of the international community to protect us.
No Jew seeks war; it runs against the grain of who we are as a people. But when the enemy strikes — whether through rockets, terror, or propaganda — we cannot fold. We must be prepared to defend ourselves, and that defense requires not only military readiness, but also the mental and emotional toughness to withstand the psychological campaigns designed to break our spirit.
Like Jordan, we know the “refs” won’t save us. Instead, we strike back — delivering decisive blows to our enemies and those who support them. Our response is not to whine but to win; not to beg but to act; not to collapse but to rise stronger than before.
Adaptation and Teamwork
Jews, like Jordan, have had to adapt. Without sovereignty, we built networks of learning and commerce. In the wake of destruction, we rebuilt life in new lands. After the Shoah, we created a sovereign state and a modern army. And in today’s world of digital media, we must adapt again — mastering the battle of ideas and narratives with the same creativity and tenacity that we bring to science and technology.
Of course, Jordan didn’t win alone. He was transcendent, but he didn’t start winning championships until he trusted his teammates — Scottie Pippen, Horace Grant, John Paxson, Steve Kerr. Beating the Pistons wasn’t just about Jordan’s strength; it was about a team maturing together.
For Jews, the same is true. Our survival and flourishing cannot rely solely on lone heroes or charismatic leaders. It requires community. It requires Jews across denominations, geographies, and ideologies pulling in the same direction. Like the Chicago Bulls, we only win when we play as a team.
Learning From Our Opponents
Jordan studied the Pistons. He didn’t just resist them; he analyzed their tactics and turned their pressure into a training ground.
For Jews, every enemy we’ve faced has taught us something. The Romans taught us dispersion survival. The Europeans forced us into commerce and literacy. Modern antisemitism forced us to become world-class advocates. The question isn’t only how we endure enemies, but what skills we learn from them.
From Victim to Victor
Jordan could have stayed stuck in the narrative of being unfairly targeted. But he refused to be defined as the victim of the Pistons’ brutality. He rewrote the story: “I am not the victim; they are the obstacle. And I will surpass them.”
For Jews, this is vital. Yes, antisemitism is a harsh reality, but it cannot be the core of our identity. We are not merely a people who suffer; we are a people who build. Our destiny is not to be perpetual victims, but to be perpetual creators of life, meaning, and culture.
Winning changes respect.
Before Jordan won championships, critics dismissed him as “just a scorer.” But after the Bulls’ dynasty, the criticism vanished. Winning silenced detractors.
For Jews, there is a similar lesson. The world does not always admire those who complain; it admires those who win. When Israel rescues hostages, pioneers medical technology, or revitalizes Hebrew as a spoken language, even critics are forced to respect us. The ultimate answer to antisemitism is not only in protest; it is in achievement.
Mental Toughness and Identity
The Pistons didn’t just beat up Jordan physically; they tested his mental and emotional endurance. They wanted him rattled, doubting himself. His refusal to crack mentally was as important as his physical training.
Here, too, there is a parallel for Jews. Antisemitism is meant to shake our confidence in our identity, to make us question if it’s even worth holding onto. The Jewish response must be unshakable pride: stronger Jewish education, public Jewish expression, and cultural confidence that says, “You can hit us, but the more you do, the stronger we become.”
Pain as Preparation
Jordan’s punishment at the hands of the Pistons was not wasted; it forged him. Without the suffering, he might never have become the champion the world remembers.
So too with Jews. Our suffering has been deep and devastating, but it has also refined us. Out of exile came a Torah that traveled with us. Out of the Shoah came a nation reborn. Out of wars and boycotts came the innovation that turned Israel into a global hub of technology and medicine. Pain, while never welcome, has been preparation for greatness.
Excellence Over Excuses
Jordan’s ultimate legacy isn’t, “The Pistons were unfair.” It’s: “I became the best ever.”
If the defining Jewish story is that the world is unfair, we remain locked in grievance. But if our story is that we became the Start-Up Nation, revitalized Hebrew, built the strongest diaspora institutions, and contributed to global progress despite it all — then we own the narrative. Our excellence must outshine our enemies’ hatred.
Jordan’s six championships didn’t just prove something in the moment; they set a standard that still inspires to this day.
For Jews, our victories must be more than short-term. The question isn’t only how we withstand antisemitism today, but what enduring Jewish strength, culture, and faith we pass on. Will we leave behind 6,000 more years of vitality?
From Survival to Greatness
Jordan’s story didn’t end with surviving the Pistons; it ended with him becoming the most celebrated athlete of his era. He turned pain into power, defeat into dynasty.
For Jews, the parallel is clear. It is not enough to merely outlast those who wish to harm us. Our calling is to transform the blows into a deeper resilience, a renewed culture, and a flourishing Jewish future. The measure of our strength is not in what we endure, but in what we achieve after enduring.
That is how we go from merely surviving to leading, innovating, inspiring — and showing the world what a people can do when it refuses to be broken.
It starts with what we might call “The Jewish Rules,” a blueprint for Jewish life: Don’t waste time begging for fairness in an unfair world. Don’t define yourself by the opposition’s blows. Get stronger, get smarter, build your team, and own the story.
Michael Jordan turned a brutal strategy into the foundation of a dynasty. The Jewish People must do the same.
Love you Joshua Hoffman!
Joshua: One of your best essays (and there are lots of "bests").