A Call to American Jews on a Path Forward: On Israel, Values, Pride and Responsibility

For most American Jews, support for Israel has never simply meant support for a government. It has meant support for the idea that there should exist a democratic homeland in the Middle East where Jews can live safely and openly after centuries of persecution, exile, and violence. I continue to believe in that vision.

But today, after the events of October 7 and the protracted and unnecessary enduring of the campaign of the Israeli government against Palestinians in both Gaza and the West Bank, I find it impossible to argue that the current State of Israel fully embodies either democracy or safety.

When a government moves to box in and weaken its own court system, democracy is diminished. When legislation is advanced that delegitimizes Jews who have converted through non-Orthodox pathways as is being introduced by the current government, the Jewish people themselves are diminished. And when, after years of war and bloodshed, Israelis still spend their lives running to bomb shelters, it becomes impossible to claim that the present course has produced genuine security.

It is easy — perhaps even instinctive — for Jews to blame others for the circumstances we face. Human beings have done this throughout history, and Jews know all too well the pain that comes from being turned into the eternal “other.” But Torah does not permit us to live solely in blame. Torah demands something harder. It requires that we look honestly in the mirror and ask whether we ourselves have remained faithful to the values we claim to uphold.

Our liturgy teaches:

“…if your heart should turn away and you not heed and go astray, and you submit to other gods and serve them, I declare to you today that you shall be destroyed completely… I have placed before you a blessing and a curse. Choose Life, that you may live…”

That command — “Choose Life” — sits at the center of Judaism for me. It is not merely about survival. It is about how we survive. It is about whether power is exercised with justice, restraint, humility, and compassion. It is about whether we remember that every human being is created b’tzelem Elohim — in the image of God.

For the better part of 30 years, the governing coalition of Israel has increasingly moved away from those values, to my utter despair. Too often, it has chosen the politics of fear, vilification, and division. Too often, it has defined Jewish survival through perpetual conflict and suspicion of the “other.” And too often, it has done so while claiming to speak in the name of all Jews everywhere.

I reject that claim.

To disavow the policies of the current Israeli government is not anti-Jewish. It is not a betrayal of Judaism. In many ways, I believe it is profoundly Jewish. The Jewish tradition is not one of blind obedience to kings or governments. Abraham argued with God over Sodom. The prophets condemned the rulers of Israel when they abandoned justice. Rabbinic Judaism itself emerged from questioning, argument, moral wrestling, and ethical accountability.

As Diaspora Jews, we cannot afford to sever our connection to the people of Israel. That bond is ancient, sacred, and real. But neither can we surrender our moral voice out of fear that criticism will be weaponized by others. Love of the Jewish people does not require loyalty to any particular government or coalition. In fact, sometimes love demands honesty.

I do not use terms like “apartheid” or “settler colonialism.” I understand (although sadly) why others do, but those are not the words I choose. My objection is different and, in some ways, simpler: the Netanyahu government does not reflect the deepest values of Judaism as I understand them through Torah and covenant. A Judaism rooted only in fear, nationalism, and power ceases to resemble the moral tradition that sustained our people across centuries.

There is an old truth that we reap what we sow. Today, that truth feels painfully visible. A society that nurtures fear will harvest fear. A politics built on resentment will eventually produce more resentment. Violence rarely ends violence; more often, it perpetuates it.

Jews today face a profound choice. We can remain anchored in the values that have long defined our tradition: life, justice, tikkun olam, mercy, and lovingkindness. Or we can convince ourselves that because hatred exists in the world, especially hatred toward Jews, we are therefore permitted to abandon those values in pursuit of our security.

I cannot accept the latter.

Abandoning our values does not equal security. It represents disintegration.

I do not live in the State of Israel. I have considered at times making Aliyah and moving there, but I acknowledge that I am a Diasporah Jew. As such, I may not have a say in the state of affairs in the State of Israel, but I do have an interest. The policies of the Israeli government do affect me, and they affect Jewish life around the world. And, the Netanyahu government has completely ignored this truth.

My final reflection is that we could consider what Jews can own and take responsibility for regarding antisemitism. Antisemitism – Jew hatred – has been around for centuries – dating back perhaps to 300 CE or even earlier. It’s come in many forms, and its form changes and transforms over time. But it does Jews – and the world – good for us to consider what WE can take responsibility for in terms of enmity toward the Jewish people. Have we taken care to share with others what being Jewish represents? Have we taken the trouble to engage with our non-Jewish neighbors, colleagues, fellow citizens of whatever country we are in to share the core Jewish values of tzedek and chesed, and how aggrieved we are at the spilling of blood, and despite conditions of today, our true commitment to a more kind and just olam ha-bah?

As for me, I choose Life — as Torah commands.

I stand for a secure Israel – that is Jewish (but not to the exclusion of other faiths and creeds), and that is democratic – which represents the highest ideals for an enlightened and self-governing humanity.

The State of Israel was founded largely by Jews who were secular and socialist. Today’s reality is not that of 1948. May Jews today – both in the Diaspora, and residing in Israel – heed the call of our liturgy and return to a Choice for Life, not unaware of real threats to life, but considering those and choosing what matches our obligation as Jews in convenant with God.  And may the world take note of this choice, and reconsider their notions of what they understand it means to be Jewish, and what the ideals of the founding of the State of Israel could represent for the world.