Jewish Soft Power in an Age of Hard Questions – Ki Tavo
The Power We Have: Jewish Soft Power in an Age of Hard Questions
Yossi Klein Halevi has offered a useful way of thinking about the radically different circumstances of Jews in Israel and Jews in America.
Israel possesses what we might call hard power. It has an army. It has intelligence services. It has borders, sovereignty, police, missiles, tanks and the ability to defend itself by force when necessary.
American Jews possess a different kind of power.
Our power is largely soft power: influence, philanthropy, relationships, education, moral credibility, civic engagement, political participation, institutions, universities, hospitals, foundations, synagogues and the extraordinary network of alliances that American Jews have built over generations.
Israel can send the IDF.
American Jews send rabbis, community leaders, philanthropists, lawyers, educators and activists into the public square.
That distinction came sharply into focus for me this week. A group of rabbis in Manhattan held a private meeting with Mayor Zohran Mamdani as part of his effort to engage Jewish religious leaders and hear their concerns.
Four days later, on Friday night, a man entered Central Synagogue during Shabbat services, disrupted worship, and attacked both a congregant and a security guard. Police arrested the man, Larry Montes, 46, and charged him with assault and criminal mischief as hate crimes.
It is tempting to connect the two events too neatly.
We should not.
There is no evidence that the man who attacked Central Synagogue was responding to the meeting with Mamdani. Nor should we suggest that the meeting caused the attack. Antisemitism does not need a single political explanation. It comes from the right and the left, from religious extremism and secular conspiracy theories, from ancient hatreds and contemporary political rhetoric.
But the proximity of these two events does illuminate something important.
What does Jewish power look like in America?
And perhaps an even more important question:
What should Jewish power look like?
We Are No Longer Powerless
For most of Jewish history, Jews had very little political power.
We depended upon the goodwill of rulers who could change their minds. We lived as minorities. We negotiated for permission to build synagogues, conduct our religious lives, own property and participate in civic society.
The modern Jewish world changed that equation.
The creation of the State of Israel meant that, for the first time in nearly two thousand years, Jews possessed sovereignty and the means to defend themselves.
That is an extraordinary achievement.
The IDF represents something deeper than military capacity. It represents the end of Jewish helplessness.
But American Jewish history produced another kind of achievement.
We built institutions.
We built universities and hospitals. We created philanthropic organizations. We entered government, business, medicine, law, journalism, entertainment and education. We developed relationships across religious, racial and ethnic communities. We became citizens who did not simply ask what America could do for Jews; we helped build America.
That is power too.
It is simply a different kind of power.
And this is where Halevi’s distinction between Israeli hard power and American Jewish soft power becomes so compelling. He has written that the two great Jewish centers responded differently to their circumstances: Israel developed military deterrence, while American Jews developed forms of “soft power” including lobbying, philanthropy and alliances with other minorities.
We should not imagine that one is superior to the other.
Israel needs hard power.
American Jews need soft power.
And both need something even more fundamental:
the ability to know when power must be used, and what kind of power the moment demands.
Ki Tavo’s Surprising Vision of Jewish Influence
This week’s Torah portion, Ki Tavo, gives us a remarkable image of Jewish power.
After describing the blessings that will accompany Israel’s faithfulness, the Torah says:
וְרָאוּ֙ כׇּל־עַמֵּ֣י הָאָ֔רֶץ כִּ֛י שֵׁ֥ם יְהֹוָ֖ה נִקְרָ֣א עָלֶ֑יךָ וְיָֽרְא֖וּ מִמֶּֽךָּ׃
“And all the peoples of the earth shall see that the name of the LORD is proclaimed over you, and they shall stand in awe of you.”
At first glance, this sounds like a description of hard power.
“They shall stand in awe of you.”
But notice what comes first.
וְרָאוּ — “And they shall see.”
The nations see something.
They observe something.
They encounter something about the Jewish people that changes the way they perceive us.
The Torah’s first image of Jewish influence is not conquest.
It is visibility.
The Jewish people become powerful because the world sees the name of God associated with us.
The Talmud makes this even more striking. In Menachot 35b, Rabbi Eliezer interprets this verse:
“אלו תפילין שבראש”
“These are the tefillin of the head.”
The rabbis take a verse about the nations seeing the Jewish people and transform it into an image of Jewish identity that is visible.
The power is not hidden.
The Jewish person walks into the world carrying a visible sign of covenant.
This is not exactly the same thing as modern “soft power,” of course. But the connection is profound.
Jewish influence begins with what the world sees when it encounters Jews.
And that places an enormous responsibility upon us.
The Power of Showing Up
Think about what happens when Jewish leaders enter City Hall, a university, a hospital, a courtroom, a classroom or a community organization.
They do not arrive with an army.
They do not have the authority to issue an executive order.
They do not command the police.
They come with something else: relationships, knowledge, experience, moral authority and the ability to speak as Jewish leaders and citizens.
That is soft power.
It is easy to underestimate because it does not look like power.
A rabbi talks.
A mayor listens.
A community organizes.
A philanthropist gives.
A synagogue builds a relationship with a church or mosque.
A Jewish lawyer enters public service.
A Jewish physician treats a patient.
A Jewish foundation funds a university.
A Jewish organization advocates for religious freedom.
None of these things looks like an army.
But over decades, together, they constitute enormous influence.
And that influence has been one of the great successes of American Jewish life.
The meeting with Mamdani therefore should not be dismissed as naïveté.
Nor should it be romanticized as if dialogue alone can protect Jews.
It is something more complicated.
It is the exercise of Jewish soft power.
We engage people with whom we disagree because influence requires relationships.
We speak clearly because relationships without truth become appeasement.
We listen because isolation diminishes influence.
And we insist upon boundaries because Jewish power without Jewish self-respect is not power at all.
Then Came Friday Night
And then, just four days after that meeting, Central Synagogue became a crime scene.
The irony is painful.
Jewish leaders went to City Hall to participate in the civic life of New York.
Days later, someone entered a synagogue and attacked people during prayer.
The contrast could not be sharper.
City Hall and the synagogue.
Civic engagement and physical security.
Soft power and hard reality.
We should resist the temptation to conclude that soft power has failed.
It has not.
But we should also resist the opposite temptation—to imagine that soft power is enough.
It isn’t.
A Jewish community cannot survive on relationships alone.
We need security.
We need law enforcement.
We need political leaders who understand antisemitism.
We need synagogues that take security seriously.
We need Israel.
We need the IDF.
But we also need something that the IDF cannot provide.
We need Americans who know us.
We need neighbors who will stand with us.
We need clergy who will recognize antisemitism when they encounter it.
We need elected officials who understand that Jewish safety is part of the larger project of democratic safety.
We need philanthropy that strengthens Jewish institutions.
We need young Jews who know how to articulate why Jewish life matters.
And we need relationships across the American civic landscape strong enough that when Jews are threatened, people do not simply say, “That’s terrible.”
They say:
“Those are our neighbors.”
That is soft power.
The Danger of Confusing Influence with Immunity
There is, however, a deeper lesson here.
American Jews sometimes confuse acceptance with safety.
Because Jews have succeeded so spectacularly in America, we can begin to assume that our success has made antisemitism obsolete.
It hasn’t.
We can be deeply integrated into American society and still be vulnerable.
We can have enormous influence and still be attacked.
We can have Jewish billionaires, Jewish Supreme Court justices, Jewish university presidents, Jewish philanthropists, Jewish celebrities and Jewish political leaders—and still have to worry about someone walking into a synagogue during Shabbat.
Power does not eliminate vulnerability.
It changes the nature of vulnerability.
That may be one of the most important Jewish lessons of our moment.
What Kind of Jews Will We Be?
Ki Tavo gives us another clue.
The verse does not say simply that the nations will see Jews.
It says:
כִּי שֵׁם ה’ נִקְרָא עָלֶיךָ
“That the name of the LORD is called upon you.”
Our public power is ultimately connected to our public identity.
What does it mean for the world to encounter a Jew?
What do people experience when they encounter our synagogues?
Our organizations?
Our rabbis?
Our philanthropists?
Our political leaders?
Our families?
Our students?
Our children?
Do they encounter arrogance or humility?
Fear or courage?
Indifference or generosity?
Tribalism or responsibility?
That is the Jewish version of soft power.
It is not merely lobbying.
It is not merely money.
It is not merely political influence.
It is the power of Jewish example.
The Torah imagines that the nations will see something in us and respond to it.
That means our most important form of influence may be the lives we live when no one is lobbying for us.
The synagogue that feeds hungry people.
The Jewish foundation that supports public education.
The rabbi who speaks honestly to a mayor.
The Jew who defends Israel without demonizing Palestinians.
The Jew who condemns antisemitism without dehumanizing Muslims.
The congregation that protects its doors while keeping its heart open.
The philanthropist who understands that giving money is not simply charity but an investment in the moral architecture of society.
This is power.
We Need Both Kinds of Jewish Power
The lesson of this moment is not that Jewish leaders are wrong to engage with political leaders with whom they disagree.
And it is not that the IDF is the answer to American antisemitism.
The lesson is that Jewish survival requires multiple forms of power.
Israel’s hard power says:
We will never again be defenseless.
American Jewish soft power says:
We will never stop building relationships and contributing to the society in which we live.
Jewish moral power says:
We will use whatever influence we possess in ways that make the world more just, more compassionate and more human.
And Jewish spiritual power says:
We will remain recognizably Jewish while doing it.
Perhaps that is what the Torah means when it says:
וְרָאוּ כׇּל־עַמֵּי הָאָרֶץ כִּי שֵׁם ה’ נִקְרָא עָלֶיךָ
“And all the peoples of the earth shall see that the name of the LORD is proclaimed over you.”
The goal is not that everyone fear Jews.
The deeper hope is that the world will see Jews.
See our courage.
See our generosity.
See our moral seriousness.
See our commitment to community.
See our willingness to engage.
See our refusal to disappear.
And when necessary, see our determination to defend ourselves.
American Jews have a place at the table.
But we must never forget why we need that place.
We need the courage to walk into City Hall.
And we need the courage to walk into synagogue.
We need the power to influence.
And the power to defend.
We need the IDF in Israel.
And we need rabbis, philanthropists, educators, activists, lawyers, doctors, business leaders and ordinary Jewish citizens here in America.
The Jewish future will depend not upon choosing hard power over soft power—or soft power over hard power.
It will depend upon knowing when each is needed, and remembering what both are ultimately for.
The purpose of Jewish power is not domination.
It is dignity.
It is security.
It is freedom.
It is the ability to remain Jewish without fear.
And, perhaps most importantly, it is the ability to bring something Jewish into the world that the world would be poorer without.
That is the power we have.
And it is a power worth using.
