The need to cry surged up in me as I left the polling booth yesterday.

It wasn’t about who would win. It was about the act of voting itself, the opportunity to choose freely what cross I marked on my ballot paper. It was about the process of true democracy at work.

I thought of my grandfather. I envisaged him emerging weak and sick from Dachau concentration camp. Then I imagined what he would say about the freedom we enjoy here today.

In how many countries of the world are there genuinely fair and honest elections? Don’t the women, and men, of Iran, and so many other states across the world, long for just this? It’s a matter of deep principle, pride and commitment that, despite all its problems, Israel was founded as, and continues to be, a democracy.

Indeed, writing as a Jew, in how few generations, in how few times and places, have we had the equal right to vote, men and women? In how many lands have we been able to stand for election and represent our constituencies and country? Even when he wrote in Frankfurt in the late eighteenth century about the importance of participating in newly won civic opportunities, Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch could only dare to hope for this.  

I have been moved, too, over the last weeks to see so many young people, in support of whichever party, volunteering, knocking on doors, engaging in the process of democracy, motivated by the belief, the hope and trust, that one can stand up for one’s values and make a difference to how one’s country is run. 

So now the UK has a new government. 

When Rishi Sunak called the election, he probably didn’t know that the Torah reading for the following Shabbat would contain the story of Korach. There are of course alternative readings, but the classic understanding is that Korach challenged Moses’ leadership not because he cared more deeply for his people, or had a greater commitment to justice, but because he wanted power for power’s sake. His arguments were not ‘for the sake of heaven,’ true ideological difference which deserve to be debated because truth is multi-faceted, but merely cantankerous personal attacks. 

The great majority of those who stood for election in this country are not like Korach. In the early hours of the night, I heard moving speeches, both by winning candidates and former MPs who lost their seats, about the privilege of caring for their cities and their people. That is public service in the true sense of the words. In the classic Hebrew phrase, such individuals intend ‘to occupy themselves betsorchei tsibbur be’emunah, with the concerns of the community in good faith.’

In these challenging times, those entering or re-entering Parliament carry profound responsibilities. I pray for their safety and wellbeing. It’s horrifying to learn of the vile abuse, the online bullying, the threats, including death threats and threats to their families, to which MPs, especially and particularly women, are now so often subject. May God, and we as a society, keep our elected representatives safe from harm, free in person and in spirit, to serve our country.

I pray that our MPs, civil servants and all who work with them, will govern for the sake of tsedek and tsadakah, justice and social justice, chesed veshalom, compassion and peace. May they, and we, work for the national and international good, and for the wellbeing not just of humankind but of our planet and all the intricately interdependent life upon it. 

May they, and we, take forward the sacred task of letakken olam, making the world a safer, fairer and better place for everyone, as is God’s will.