The Story of Chanukah, As Told By a Democratic Moderate

Hello, Iowa — my home for the holidays! Today I’d like to tell you a story of unity, a story of civility, a story of the power of togetherness — the 100% indisputably true story of Chanukah.

 

In 168 BCE, a time before Donald Trump — so therefore, a time when everything was usually pretty good for the Jews — a ruler named Antiochus Epiphanes IV decreed that Jews could no longer practice their religion. This news was shocking and terrible, of course, but the Jews knew that they had to nominate a ruler who could beat Antiochus IV. This was no time to bet on a candidate who made lofty, outlandish promises, like free Greek gymnasium time for all, or access to their basic human rights.

 

See, in the old days, a group of salt-of-the-earth Jewish farmers, not unlike the citizens of the great state of Iowa, decided that they must end Antiochus IV’s brutal reign. They didn’t have a dime, but they always had a vision — a vision they focus-group tested across red and blue Seleucid provinces far and wide.

 

After an intense primary season, they came together to nominate Judah Maccabee. Needless to say, he was a middle-of-the-road, noncontroversial, pragmatic guy, with a peaceful Chanukah message everyone could get behind.

 

They didn’t get hung up on petty infighting. No, sir; all the Hellenists and all the Maccabees totally agreed with each other on everything all the time. They united various ideological wings of the Jewish party to focus on defeating Antiochus IV and finding common ground with their Seleucid oppressors.

 

The fact of the matter is, Jews in ancient times knew they were in a battle for the soul of the Seleucid nation. But they also knew Antiochus IV’s followers weren’t evil; they were just regular, hardworking folks who didn’t understand the Jews. The Jews found common-sense solutions to get their Temple back, not by bickering, but by listening to their oppressors, and then they all went out for a beer together and celebrated Chanukah. That is definitely what happened.

 

And you know what else happened? Something that in our polarizing times we’d call a “miracle”, folks. When the Jews got their Temple back, they saw that they only had one jar of oil left for their menorah. But did they over-promise that the oil would burn for eight nights? No way! They thought the oil would last for one night only, and only for adults over the age of 65. But by rejecting a “my way or the highway” approach, they convinced Congress to pass legislation stretching that oil over eight miraculous nights. A bipartisan lesson we can all learn from!

 

So, why do we eat latkes? Well, these delectable treats are overflowing with symbolism! The oil reminds us of the slow and steady efficacy of reaching across the aisle. The flavorless flesh of the potato is a symbol of bland, electable, digestible policies — plus, a reminder of Idaho’s potential as a swing state in 2020! And as those latkes fry, watch out for the hot, splashing oil — that represents hot-tempered “activists” on Twitter trying to trick you into saying some gaffe about segregation or “Me Too” or some other malarkey.

 

And why do we play “Dreidel”? Some say that the Jews would spin the dreidel to distract their oppressors while they secretly studied Torah — but that’s only half the story. The truth is, this game of chance was how folks decided who qualified for free college. You landed on “Gimel”, you got free in-state college; “Nun” was full-pay; “Shin” was permanent student debt; and “Hey” was partial loan forgiveness with a slight increase in Pell grants. Isn’t it amazing how relevant the Chanukah story just so happens to be in our modern era?

 

Folks, in these hyper-partisan times, let us recall the true meaning of Chanukah. Because Chanukah was never a time for fighting; it’s always been a time for standing together as one America. For Chanukah is a holiday for all Americans, Jews and Gentiles alike. Let’s enter 2020 like how the Jews entered 164 BCE; ready to come together to take back our “Temple”, focusing on what unites us, not what divides us.

 

If you, too, believe in my historically accurate message of unity, please donate five pieces of gelt (that’s Chanukah for “dollars”) to my campaign before the December 31 fiscal deadline.

 

Merry Chanukah, one and all, and to all, a good eight bipartisan nights!