For US Jews, disengaging from Israel is not an option

To many of us raised in American Jewish homes — regardless of denomination or degree of observance — one principle was woven deeply into our moral vocabulary: Tikkun Olam, the obligation to help repair a broken world.

The concept was never presented as naïve optimism. Judaism does not teach that the world will become perfect. Quite the opposite. Jewish tradition assumes fracture, conflict, injustice, and human imperfection as constants of history. Yet our tradition also insists that awareness of brokenness is not permission for passivity.

As taught in Pirkei Avot: “You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to desist from it.”

That obligation feels especially urgent today.

Israeli society is under extraordinary strain. Families across the country have endured months of sleepless nights in bomb shelters. Parents, reservists, active-duty service members, including teenagers, have cycled through repeated military deployments in dangerous settings within and beyond Israel’s borders. Trauma, grief, and exhaustion are now embedded in daily life.

Recently, my wife and I hosted a barbecue for an armory battalion on leave in northern Israel. The soldiers carried themselves with quiet dignity. There was little bravado. Their easy camaraderie — forged through countless days and nights together in cramped tanks and dangerous conditions — masked pain that sat just beneath the surface.

These wounds do not remain confined to the battlefield. They ripple outward through society itself.

The trauma of recent years has further widened the divide between Israel’s Jewish and Arab communities. A recent Givat Haviva poll found that substantial majorities of both Israeli Jews (77%) and Arab citizens (55%) are pessimistic about the prospects for genuine partnership. According to Israel’s State Comptroller, 99% of Israeli students graduate high school without ever meaningfully engaging with someone from the other sector during their school years, nor do they even speak the same language.

No society can flourish when entire communities live separately, fearfully, and unequally.

A society in which 58% of Arab citizens face daily food insecurity, and where Arab victims account for 85% of murders in Israel, is not simply confronting isolated policy failures. It is emblematic of erosion within the social fabric itself. These disparities weaken Israel internally and endanger the future shared by all its citizens — Arab and Jew alike.

This is not about partisan politics or assigning blame across ideological lines. It is about recognizing that the resilience of a nation depends not only on military strength, but also on social cohesion, mutual dignity, and shared responsibility.

As an American Jew committed to the values I inherited, I feel compelled to engage directly with those in Israel working to heal societal wounds and bridge divides between its Jewish and Arab citizens, who comprise 21% of the population. The work is neither glamorous nor easy. Progress is often fragile. There are setbacks, frustrations, and moments of heartbreak.

During a visit to Givat Haviva in February, we met a young Arab man whose cousin had been murdered in the street of his town the day before. The anguish in his face and voice was unmistakable. Yet surrounding him were Jewish and Arab friends alike, embracing him with compassion and solidarity.

That moment stayed with me. Because this is how shared society begins: not through slogans or abstractions, but through human relationships within environments where trust can form, grief can be shared, language can be learned, and friendship can take root.

Across Israel, such efforts are growing. Investments are being made in mental health counseling, shared educational programs, arts initiatives, language training, computer literacy, and sports programming designed to ensure that all of Israel’s citizens can achieve their highest potential, contribute to and benefit from society’s future.

Israeli President Isaac Herzog told the Givat Haviva Shared Society Conference in January, “Our path from despair to hope passes through one single route, and one only: partnership.”

Too often, however, headlines filled with violence and political turmoil overwhelm positive stories of healing and cooperation. For observers thousands of miles away, the region can appear hopeless, exhausting, and impenetrably complex. Under such conditions disengagement can feel understandable — even tempting.

But disengagement is not the answer. Engagement is. Especially now.

The Jewish prophetic tradition does not call upon us to turn away from difficult realities. The prophet Isaiah spoke of the obligation “to repair the breach.” That duty remains alive today. The fractures within Israeli society will not heal themselves. They require courage, investment, empathy, and sustained human engagement, with the active support and involvement of American Jews.

For US Jews, indeed for all Americans concerned about the future of Israelis and Palestinians alike – learning more, engaging, and helping strengthen a shared and more inclusive future of Israeli society from within is imperative. In doing so, we will not only advance the work of Tikkun Olam but also discover something deeply human and hopeful: that even amid profound pain, distrust, and division, bonds can still be built, trust can still grow, and healing and coexistence remain possible.