On the Aftermath of an October 7 Anniversary: American Jewish Identity and Its Discontents
Image credit Amherst Indy
Editors note: The op-ed originally appeared in The Daily Hampshire Gazette and is published with permission of the author.
by Jeff Gold
The crisis that has emerged within the American Jewish community since October 7, 2023 is nothing short of profound. Although the roots of this crisis can be traced back at least to 1948, its most evident touchstones have been the potentially fracturing disagreements emerging during the past three years over events in Israel-Palestine. I don’t seek to rehash these disagreements here – the meaning and consequences of Zionism for both Jews and its victims; the rise of antisemitism and its weaponization; the murderous rampage by Hamas on October 7; the resultant genocidal assault of Gaza; and the passive and active “acceptance” by the Israeli government and military of settler violence in the West Bank. Now, most recently, is the film NAZA. What I wish to emphasize is the painful turmoil these realities have caused within the American Jewish community and, to a very large extent, its challenges in coming to grips with these fissures. It should go without saying that none of the above is meant to disregard the profound importance of how many of these events have resulted in the utter destruction of Palestinian life.
Yet if you were listening only to the leaders of legacy Jewish institutions in our country, you might never know such division exists. Legacy organizations like the ADL, the Jewish Federations and the AIPAC lobby vigorously defend Israeli state policies against those within the Jewish community and without who are critical. These organizations assert there can be no political or moral analysis that fundamentally questions Israel’s military, political and moral behavior. Recent electoral victories in the U.S. by candidates opposed to military aid to Israel have stunned these legacy organizations (as well as the national Democratic Party) whose response, not surprisingly, has been once again to conflate criticism of Israel with antisemitism.
The legacy organizations have long claimed to speak for American Jewry. But they now find themselves at odds with a sizable segment of the American Jewish population. Polls have quite clearly identified a generational shift: a sizable portion of younger Jews no longer demonstrate allegiance to the state of Israel. Some see themselves as anti-Zionist or non-Zionist. Other progressively-minded Jews might disdain those characterizations but are horrified by what has occurred in Gaza and the West Bank, and see little difference between the ethno-nationalist ideologies espoused in Israel and right wing Christian nationalism in the U.S. In opposition to these organizations which have aligned themselves with the state of Israel and the goals of the Trump administration, this segment of the Jewish community is growing. Many of these Jews are returning to the traditions of welcoming the stranger, pursuing justice, and repairing the world. Those values are at odds with these institutions’ reflexive support of Israel’s behavior. Yet they claim to represent us.
Recent essays sponsored by Visiting Professor at Harvard Divinity School Shaul Magid on his substack have further clarified this crisis. Rabbi Angela Buchdahl, senior rabbi at Central Synagogue in New York City, recently offered a sermon on Yom Kippur in which she desired to “rescue” the word Zionism as the breath of the Jewish people’s ongoing yearning for Israeli/Jewish liberal democracy. Rabbi Irwin Kula, President of the National Jewish Center for Learning and Leadership, responded to this sermon with a pervasive yet respectful critique, asserting that no rescue of the word and meaning of (liberal) Zionism can ever occur without a structural and systematic reckoning for the myriad ways in which Israel has, from it very origins, been oppressive to the Palestinian people and caused immeasurable suffering, along with a devastating, decades-long pattern of “mutual destruction.”
In this area where we live, I believe there is an untapped Jewish reservoir of individuals and families who no longer identify with nor are represented by Jewish legacy organizations, their reflexive defense of Israel’s behavior, and their weaponization of antisemitism. What is needed is a new collaborative engagement among progressive Jews in the Valley – to bring together a Jewish cultural, moral, political and educational ethic that believes that freedom, equality and justice apply to all marginalized people. This movement is not about who is right, but the values of what is right. We can come together in the spirit of listening, arguing, respecting, learning, and acting – with a strong and undeniable belief that in doing so, we build community and work toward human rights for all.
Jeff Gold lives in Pelham, Ma.
A beautiful and courageous article. If all religious groups would speak out so wisely, we might have a chance of living together peacefully.
Thank you. Jeff, for this clear and calm assessment of the current crisis within the American Jewish community, and your hopeful vision for a “new collaborative engagement among progressive Jews in the Valley.” I saw NAZA at Amherst Cinema last week. It was devastating to hear the voices of the IDF soldiers who had participated in the ongoing assault on Gaza. We must all work together here in the U.S., Jews and non-Jews alike, to stop our nation’s enabling of this horror.
My thanks as well Jeff. I came across a poem recently that speaks to how I and many other Jews are feeling:
Eventually
the elastic band of my belief
in an unimpeachable Israel snapped
and broke and I was free
to live in an excruciating reality
with everyone whose eyes were not already
shrouded and blinkered by post holocaust grief
and anticipatory panic, to live
with fear that is willing to proceed
with courage, pushing beyond
what it says is true to what is really true.
That no one is safe until everyone is free.
And if that means letting go of the fantasy
of a country that I was brought up to adore,
and whose ground I kissed at 16,
to see that it was never the pantheon
of good-guy justice I thought it was,
if it means letting go of a place I thought would
save and house a collectively unhoused me
at the expense of a collectively unhoused other,
if that means letting go of a heart inside my heart
and letting it break when it could no longer stretch
beyond the boundaries I was taught it had, then what
what is left in the snap of that break
is like the pop of a normative bubble I’ve lived in,
releasing me to the shocking emptiness
and spaciousness of anything happening, including
inclusiveness, love, equality, peace, and loss.
No, I couldn’t have it both ways. It broke. And I’m beginning
to feel the letting go let go, the sense of betrayal too, beginning
to feel the grief in my beginning to be glad.
Ronna Bloom, Toronto