“Only that the generations of the children of Israel might know, to teach them war” (Judges 3:2)

Major Amir Sekori entered my class in October 2022. He was 30 years old, married with two daughters, and an officer in Israel Defense Forces’ (IDF) special forces. Like many officers, he took a leave to attend college, but unlike most who pursue professional studies, he chose to study for the soul and not just for the practical, attending Shalem College, Israel’s only liberal arts college. Like all students at Shalem, he began his studies reading Homer’s Iliad, the great epic about the Trojan War. By the time Amir took the seminar, I’d been teaching it for nine years. 

Amir approached me after the second class and said he was frustrated. He couldn’t get into the Illiad. We had a short conversation, and by the next meeting he came prepared like a skilled warrior, not a young man enjoying a cultural experience. He learned the text as an officer would learn a map before navigating his company to its destination. I expected to meet him again on October 9, 2023, at the opening of his sophomore year, but instead, I stood before his grave and eulogized him. Two days earlier, Amir had led a team of soldiers toward the Gaza border communities that were being attacked by terrorists. He was one of the Israelis killed on October 7.

I used the eulogy to recall one of my Iliad classes in particular. In that class we discussed Hector, the Trojan army commander, and his farewell to his wife and young son as he prepares to return to battle. He is dressed in armor, with a helmet that conceals his face. His wife pleads with him: “Stay here, lest you make your son an orphan and your wife a widow.” He refuses. He knows that his army will be defeated, but he will not stay behind: “I was raised for courage, and to fight at all times in the front ranks of the Trojans,” he says. Hector turns to bid farewell to his son, who recoils at the sight of his warrior father. The Trojan commander removes his helmet, reveals his face, and cradles his son in his arms. Now he says different things: He is full of hope for victory and envisions a great future for his son. Hector is both a warrior and a family man. When he wears the helmet he speaks as a warrior, committed to collective values even at the cost of his life. When he removes it, the man and the father are revealed...