There is a place for song — the song of survival, of gratitude, of redemption. There is also a place for silence — the silence that recognises the cost, that refuses to celebrate destruction, that honours the humanity even of those who stood on the wrong side of history.

As Pesach approaches, Jewish families gather to retell the story of the Exodus — the journey from slavery to freedom, from oppression to dignity, from despair to redemption. It is a story that invites celebration. The Seder table reflects this: wine is poured, songs are sung, and gratitude is expressed for liberation. Yet at the very moment our joy should be fullest, the Seder introduces a striking interruption. As we recite the Ten Plagues, we remove a drop of wine from our cup for each one. The result is subtle but deliberate: our cup of joy is diminished.