Introductory note: The following is a presentation I made on February 5 to Temple Beth Torah in Ventura, California.
The trauma of October 7th remains palpable in Israel and for so many of us in the Jewish Diaspora despite the fact that today all the hostages, living and dead, have been returned to Israel and there’s an official end of the war in Gaza, though fighting continues there and there’s growing violence in the West Bank. Israeli society is struggling to absorb the horrors of that deadliest and most traumatic day for Jews since the founding of the State of Israel and the Holocaust. Border communities still bear the scars of destruction and displacement. The trauma of war affects virtually every Israeli.
To have seen the starving and tortured faces of some hostages as they were released recalled the old black and white photographs taken when the camps were liberated in 1945. The return from Gaza last week of the remains of Ran G’vili, a 24-year-old heroic police officer who left his home on October 7th to fight Hamas and was killed defending Jews in the south, is an inflection moment for every Israeli. For two plus years, thousands of Israelis across political and religious lines convened weekly in Hostage Square in Tel Aviv a way Israelis could rally around the hostages and fight for the traditional ethos of never leaving anyone behind.
Israelis now find themselves at a crossroad in their history, and so too do we American Jews. For the first time in American Jewish history since the founding of Israel, many liberal American Jews have been deeply shaken not only by what happened on October 7th but by Israel’s overwhelming military response against Hamas that killed tens of thousands of Hamas terrorists and tens of thousands of Palestinian civilians.
I believe that it’s important for us here to understand a number of things about this horrendous war and its enormous impact on Israelis most especially.
This longest war in Israel’s history was, without question, a legitimate response to what the Israeli government and the leadership of the IDF most feared might happen immediately after October 7th. They believed that they were fighting for the existence of the state itself. They knew that Hamas intended to expand its attack, that there were realistic threats by Hezbollah and Iran to join the war, and that a sympathetic uprising could ignite in the West Bank forcing Israel to fight simultaneously on three fronts. It was unclear whether Israel could meet those threats. Hamas was organized and executing a plan it had developed over many years. The IDF was disorganized and the army command believed it had to distribute its authority to a far lower level of officers than it had ever done before, a decision that reduced the IDF’s customary safeguards to protect Palestinian civilians who were being used by Hamas as human shields.
The army command believed that Israel had to fight with overwhelming fire power to disrupt Hamas’s chain of command and reach its leaders hiding everywhere in more than 400 miles of tunnels under homes, apartment buildings, schools, community centers, hospitals, and mosques. If Israel didn’t succeed in disrupting Hamas immediately and demonstrating to Hezbollah and Iran how capable the IDF still was, Israel’s leadership legitimately feared that tens of thousands of Israelis could be killed.
Both Israelis and American Jews are only now beginning to ask about the impact this war has had on Israelis and Palestinian civilians and what long-term psychological damage has been done to both peoples. We’re trying here in Diaspora communities as well to figure out where we stand as American Jews and how much we want to say and reveal publicly about our fears and moral concerns in relationship to the war and the illiberal social and ethical trends that have grown in Israel.
Taking a 10,000-foot view, the significance of this period in Jewish history is unparalleled in the modern era except for the three years from 1945 to 1948 when the Jewish people went from our lowest nadir after the Shoah to the establishment of the Jewish State. That wide swing of the pendulum is testimony to the Jewish people’s durability and ability to survive, adapt and thrive after catastrophic events.
It will take time for Israelis, most especially, to heal from the losses and trauma of the war. Whatever happens, however, there must include a pathway to a demilitarized Palestinian state of some kind in Gaza and the West Bank in the context of a larger Middle East peace agreement that includes Israel and Saudi Arabia and all Israel’s moderate Arab neighbors. The vast majority of Israelis, however, are no longer speaking about the viability of a Palestinian state. They fear, legitimately, that any such state could well be taken over by Islamic extremists bent on Israel’s destruction. Whether they are right or not will be revealed over time.
The war, in part, solidified the hold that right-wing Israeli political parties and the extremist settler movement have on Israeli politics for now. Should those extremist and messianic forces have their way in the next Israeli election in October, more terrorism and war with the Palestinians and Islamic extremists will be inevitable.
Israelis are facing many significant problems including the humanitarian crisis in Gaza, the lack of a consensus about the role of the Palestinian Authority in the future governance of Gaza and the West Bank, Israel’s damaged international standing, what we in the American Jewish community think and feel about Israel and Zionism, and the dramatic rise in antisemitism around the world.
Among the greatest and immediate internal challenges facing Israel is that it has yet to set up an objective state commission of inquiry into what happened leading up to October 7th and Israel’s conduct in the war. Israel needs a power-house authority to undertake this inquiry to restore the people’s confidence that every lesson has been learned, that leadership failings are exposed, conclusions are drawn, and whether military excesses and war crimes were committed.
In considering Israel’s culpability, we Jews who love Israel have to be able to distinguish between two kinds of criticism leveled against Israel’s conduct of the war. There’s criticism from Israel’s friends that the IDF went too far, bombed Gaza too heavily, and that Israeli commanders and soldiers, in the heat of battle, crossed red lines against international moral and legal standards of war. Israelis need to address this legitimate criticism from Israel’s friends and not characterize it either as anti-Israeli or antisemitic.
The second kind of criticism comes from those who believe that the Jewish State has no moral legitimacy to exist, that it is a colonial and foreign entity in the heart of the Islamic Middle East, and no right to defend itself. That criticism is not only anti-Zionist and anti-Israel, but is based, I believe, upon antisemitism and upon the right of the Jewish people to a state of our own in our ancestral Homeland and the right of our people, like all peoples, to define ourselves and our narrative.
Despite the loss of a thousand young Israeli soldiers in the war, the murder and suffering of surviving hostages and their families, and the massive carnage and loss of life and property in Gaza, there are a few positive things for Israel that have come from this war.
Immediately after October 7th, Israel’s civil society came together from across all political and religious lines to support one another following a year of intensive demonstrations and hatred that brought hundreds of thousands of Israelis into the streets and tore apart the fabric of Israeli society as a consequence of the right-wing government’s proposed Judicial Reform efforts that would have seriously threatened Israeli democracy and the separation of power between the government and judiciary.
In Diaspora communities $1.4 billion was raised for Israel representing the single largest set of contributions on behalf of Israel in our history, and 300,000 Jews and friends of Israel convened in Washington, D.C. in solidarity with Israel, the largest Jewish demonstration since the 1987 Soviet Jewry rally on the Mall.
In addition to all of that, many American Jews experienced a reconnection to Zionism, Israel, and their Jewish identity. But, according to the most recent poll reported this morning in the JTA press, in a new survey conducted by the Jewish Federations of North America, 14% of Jews ages 18 to 34 identify as anti-Zionist (up from 8 percent five years ago). More than 70% of Jewish adults feel emotionally attached to Israel, and 60% said Israel made them proud to be Jewish. At the same time, nearly 70% said that it is sometimes hard to support actions taken by Israel or its government. 74% of American Jews between 18-49 support self-determination for both Israelis and the Palestinians, and 88% believe that “Israel has the right to exist as a Jewish, democratic state.”
These statistics aside, it’s unclear what long-term impact October 7th and the war will have on us in the Diaspora and on the character of our synagogues, religious schools, Hillel houses, Jewish summer camps, and the Jewish unaffiliated.
In the early weeks and months of the war, many Jews sought out the organized Jewish community for identification and support. Many non-Jews chose to convert to Judaism in numbers greater than we’ve experienced in a generation. More American Jews began reading books about Israel, attending classes and on-line seminars that helped them understand Zionism, Israel, Middle East history and politics.
In our American Reform Movement many of my rabbinic colleagues confessed privately either that they don’t know enough or don’t understand well enough what’s really happening in Israel to be able to speak and teach with authority and confidence about it. Many of my colleagues who love and understand Israel have feared for their positions if they spoke critically about Israel’s conduct in the war. They worried that conservative, wealthy, and influential congregants would leave the congregation or advocate for their dismissal.
This past Kol Nidre, because my successor Senior Rabbi left my congregation suddenly at the end of August, our Board of Trustees and clergy invited me to speak on that holiest of nights, and they asked me specifically, because of my long experience as a liberal Reform American Zionist leader, to speak about Israel, the war, Zionism, and antisemitism. I accepted the invitation but was worried how honest I should be about the impact of what I might say in that sermon. Once I began speaking, 5 to 10 people walked out because, I learned later, they didn’t want to hear about Israel and the war on that holiest of nights. However, at the end of the sermon, I received a standing ovation including many young people who longed to hear a pro-Israel but critical sermon given from a place of love. As I spoke, I called upon young Jews NOT to step away from Zionism or Israel, that we need their critical moral voices.
It’s now a sad and disturbing reality that too many synagogues have become unsafe spaces where rabbis and congregants are unable to discuss and debate civilly the wide range of opposing views that exist in our community concerning Israel, Zionism, antisemitism, the war, the Israeli government, illiberal trends in Israeli and American Jewish communities, and the Israeli-Palestinian and Israeli-Arab conflicts.
It seems clear that we Jews in North America and Israelis are in a significant transformative era. Whereas in years past, Israelis were happy simply to take Diaspora Jewish dollars and welcome American Jewish political support in Congress and the administration for Israel’s security needs. But, in a recent Israeli poll, 80 percent of Israeli Jews now feel strongly that the Israel-Diaspora relationship is important to them personally.
After October 7, we American Jews must try and understand Israelis even as Israelis ought to try and understand us American Jews. There is a wide gulf between us. Being liberal American Jews (which constitute about 70 percent of the American Jewish community) and being liberal Israeli Jews do not mean the same thing.
Since October 7, we need to understand that after the massacre, Israelis thought of themselves, perhaps for the first time in their lives despite a history of terrorism and war, as victims who, by and large, responded to their enemies from a place of fear, anxiety, rage, hostility, and a desire for revenge. From that embattled position many morally justified themselves in whatever the Israeli government and the IDF did.
In the initial months of the war, I felt as Israelis felt. Perhaps you did as well. Feeling victimized explains why Israeli society and the Israeli media, in particular, did not focus on the destruction of Gaza and the huge loss of life there during the war, and why Palestinian society has historically tolerated and embraced terrorism as a legitimate response against Israel and the Jewish people. As victims, so many Palestinians still justify even the most vicious and immoral crimes against Jews.
At the beginning of the war, a colleague and friend called me distraught because his college-age son had joined the Jewish Voice for Peace, an anti-Israel and anti-Zionist Jewish organization. His son claimed to want no part of Israel in his life and even expressed the view to his father, a Reform rabbi and Zionist, that Israel should never have been created. As you might imagine, my colleague was deeply upset and didn’t know what to say to him. He asked me what I thought he ought to say. A number of my congregants called me as well with the same question about their college age and twenty-something sons and daughters.
To my colleague and congregants, I said the following:
“First – these are your kids. Your relationship with them is what’s most important now. Don’t say or do anything that will alienate them from you. Love them a lot, which means listening to them without your having to instruct or correct them. Recognize that we’re all struggling in this new era of American Jewish history. Remember that they’re at the beginning of their adult journeys as Jews and Americans and that they likely will evolve and change their thinking just as we’ve done over the course of our lives. You’ve instilled in them liberal Jewish values focused upon justice, compassion, and peace. This is not the end of their engagement with Jewish life or in their relationship with Israel. Keep the door open to a conversation with them down the line. They already know how you feel and what you believe about Israel. Just listen and tell them that you respect and love them. If they’re open to reading about why Israel matters to the American Jewish community and what liberal Reform Zionism has to offer them and Israel as a direct response to the illiberal trends in Israeli society, there are books that deal directly with these challenges.”
The greater question confronting us here now is what do we do to better educate ourselves and our young people about Israel and Zionism? The best thing is to go there as individuals or synagogue groups and meet Israelis face to face from the right, left, and center, meet with Palestinian-Israeli citizens and Palestinian Arabs living under occupation in the West Bank, with Israeli and Palestinian journalists, with members of the Knesset, and with our Israeli Reform movement rabbis and leadership, and especially with the leadership of the Israel Religious Action Center whose liberal values and courageous activism who are working every day to counter the extremist actions of the government and advocate on behalf of pluralism, equality, inclusion, and democracy in Israeli society.
Taking a longer view, there are a number of questions we now need to be asking, debating, and around which we strive to find consensus. Those questions include:
- What does it means for us to belong to the Jewish people and to have a Jewish state?
- How ought we to look at the world today beyond our Jewish-Israel agenda and act on behalf of other minorities and groups who feel that we Jews are colonialists and interlopers in what we regard as our historic Homeland?
- How do we rebuild trust in our Jewish institutions and in our clergy and teachers who many young people regard with suspicion and distrust because we haven’t been honest enough about Israel and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict when they grew up?
- How do we understand anti-Zionism, anti-Israel sentiment, and antisemitism today, and what we say and do about it?
There’s still, of course, so much that’s positive for us to celebrate about the American Jewish experience. Our financial resources are great. We have many talented rabbinic, cantorial, academic, educational, professional, lay and political leaders helping us forge a new path forward.
Our message as American liberal, non-Orthodox Zionists, and lovers of the people and State of Israel has to be clear and unrelenting – DON’T GIVE UP ON ISRAEL. We have, I believe as a liberal Zionist since my earliest years, a moral and Jewish duty to fight for Israel despite her imperfections just as we have a moral and patriotic duty to fight for the United States despite its obvious challenges and imperfections in this traumatic era of American history.
As Reform Jews, we have the duty also to join with our growing Israeli Reform movement in its fight for religious pluralism, democracy, inclusion, and equality in the Jewish state, and to pursue a pathway to peace with the Palestinians, the Arab and moderate Muslim world.
I want to take a few final minutes of this presentation to offer a new way of understanding about what I believe it means to be a liberal Zionist in today’s world that can inspire those of us who have been shaken by recent events and illiberal trends.
My Zionism grew from a very particular time in history. I was born a year after the State was established and I was raised on “the crisis narrative” of Jewish history. The Holocaust hovered over my childhood and formative years and has been a defining experience affecting the post-war Jewish psyche. The Shoah taught Jews everywhere that powerlessness risks death and destruction and that the State of Israel is our surest protection against deadly forces that would destroy us.
By the time I was 17 Israel already had fought three wars. When I was 23 and living in Jerusalem, Israel was nearly overtaken by Egyptian and Syrian forces in the Yom Kippur War. I understood then personally that Israel could not lose a single war on the battlefield, that her security and survival must be the number one priority for Israelis and world Jewry, and that to ignore the real threats to the Jewish people can never be an option.
I grew up with the crisis narrative of contemporary and historic Jewish experience. But, that narrative is no longer sustainable despite what happened on October 7.
I agree with Dr. Tal Becker, an associate at the Washington Institute for Near East Policy and a Fellow at the Shalom Hartman Institute in Jerusalem, who writes that the crisis narrative “is both narrow and shallow.” It’s narrow, he says, because the singular focus on survival and presence on the land keeps us from talking about “the breadth of what this sovereign project might offer for the collective Jewish experience.” And it’s shallow because “it pursues Jewish survival for its own sake but tells no deeper story as to why that survival is important and worth fighting for.”
So – what kind of conversation can we have about Israel today that is broad and visionary enough to talk about how the Jewish State can be a source of sustenance, connection, and renewal for all Jews, and even for the world? How do we begin to articulate, to ourselves and then to the wider world, why Israel matters and why we are willing to fight for it?
Dr. Becker argues that in order to build a conversation that achieves a vision of Jewish unity behind an Israel that we can support wholeheartedly, we need to focus on values and ask what it will take to address Israel’s challenges and build a moral and just society in which the policies, politics, and culture reflect our liberal Jewish values, tradition, and experience as a people.
For those operating strictly out of the crisis mindset, Jewish unity is defined narrowly by who stands with us against common threats. But the values narrative that Dr. Becker advocates defines Jewish unity in terms of a moral engagement that we share – not because we agree or because the one overriding issue confronting us is survival, but because we’re committed to engage in a complicated, divisive, agonizing, and exhilarating process of writing together the next chapter of Jewish history. When we do that, we become worthy of the better angels in our tradition and our historic experience as Jews.
It’s extremely difficult to find the balance between our particular Jewish interests—the concerns and identity we have as a nation and a “tribe”—and our concerns for democracy and the wellbeing of all. We liberals in the Diaspora are schooled in accommodation, and have often been less comfortable asserting our own rights. Yet the tension between the particular and the universal, the tribal and the humanitarian, runs throughout Jewish tradition and history. All of us Diaspora Jews and Israelis need to navigate through a values-based discussion about what Israel should be. If we can do that, a new Zionist paradigm will emerge that reflects a new stage in Zionist, Israeli, and Jewish history.
We have had iteration upon iteration of Zionism. Theodor Herzl’s political Zionism envisioned a Jewish state in our ancestral Homeland as the solution to the problem of anti-Semitism in Europe and around the world. Ahad Ha-am’s cultural Zionism regarded Zionism as a way to mend Jewish alienation from the spirit of Judaism. Chaim Weizmann’s practical Zionism synthesized political and cultural Zionism. Zionism took a socialist turn with David Ben Gurion’s Labor Zionism, and shifted toward religious Zionism with Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook, the first chief rabbi of the Zionist settlement a hundred years ago. Vladimir Jabotinsky and Menachem Begin added a tribal militancy and expansionist vision of the land of Israel with their revisionist Zionism. And today, a growing trend is characterized by an even more militant right-wing, extremist, anti-democratic, nativist, messianic, ethno-nationalist Zionism: the “Israel must dominate” model of Smotrich and Ben Gevir.
The corrective to this, I believe, is Tal Becker’s model: a values-based Aspirational Zionism.
Aspirational Zionism is already at the heart of our own Reform Zionism and requires us to ground ourselves in our Jewish and democratic values. From this perspective, we grapple with such questions as these:
* How do our liberal Jewish values augment Israel’s democratic, diverse, and pluralistic society?
* How do we bring the moral aspirations of the Biblical prophets and the compassionate impulse of the Talmudic rabbis—our ethical history—into contemporary challenges like Israel’s relationship with the Palestinians and Arab Israelis?
* How do we join our fellow Jews in Israel and around the world to fight our anti-Israeli, anti-Zionist, and antisemitic enemies without our sacrificing our Jewish moral sensibilities and democratic values?
* How do we as a people genuinely pursue peace as a moral and quintessentially Jewish obligation despite the threat of terror and war?
* How do we support Israelis while advocating on behalf of democracy and the equal rights and dignity of Israel’s minorities?
* How do we oppose oppressive Israeli policies over the West Bank without turning our opponents into the “other,” and losing the possibility for common ground and true peace?
* How do we preserve a Jewish majority in Israel while supporting social justice, a shared society with Arab-Israeli citizens, and the human rights of all?
These questions take us to the heart of our liberal Reform beliefs and make them compatible with a democratic nationalism.
Nationalism has lately become shorthand for self-interested exclusion, oppression, and supremacy, but democratic nations are what we make them. In this spirit we can insist on and fight for an Israel that lives up to its founding principles of democracy, justice, peace, and the full expression of our highest liberal Jewish values; an Israel that reflects the best of Jewish culture and tradition.
We liberal American Jews can be fully Zionist even as we ask the hard questions like those above. We can do the work of bridging the tribal and the universal humanitarian impulses in Jewish tradition, addressing our need as Jews for sovereignty and rights as a nation, and on behalf of the needs and humanitarian rights of all.
That’s the Israel and the Zionism that I support and grew up with, and our support for our Reform Zionist movement in the United States and in Israel in our Israeli Reform movement’s synagogues, youth programs, pre-army educational programs, kibbutzim, and social justice work are what gives me hope for Israel and the Jewish people.
Finally, I recommend that you download and listen weekly to The Pluralist Podcast hosted by Rabbi Josh Weinberg, Vice President for Israel and Reform Zionism and the Executive Director of the Association for Reform Zionists of America (ARZA), along with Orly Erez Likhovski, a brilliant Israeli attorney and the Director of the Israel Religious Action Center in Jerusalem. They offer weekly discussion on what is happening in Israel and North America from a liberal Reform perspective.










