Is This What a Revitalized American Judaism Should Be?

The dramatic and disturbing rise in antisemitism in the United States (and elsewhere) sparked largely, although not exclusively, by Israel’s justified and defensible response to Hamas’s vicious and brutal attack on October 7 has counterintuitively led to greater Jewish engagement by many American Jews.

Indeed, a national survey conducted by the Jewish Federations of North America found that since that fateful and tragic day, 43 percent of Jews in America expressed a desire to become more involved Jewishly. Even more telling, the same was true for those on the margins of the Jewish community. For example, the survey indicated that of the 83 percent of Jews who identified as “only somewhat,” “not very” or “not engaged at all” before October 7, 40 percent are now participating in various aspects of Jewish life. In these otherwise dark and distressing times, this is a very promising and hopeful sign, with potentially historic ramifications for Israel and American Jews.

The big question, of course, is this: what should a reinvigorated and revitalized American Judaism look like to help foster and sustain this positive development? Over the past year or so, several new books have come out that in various ways to address this topic, including Joshua Leifer’s recent publication of “Tablets Shattered: The End of an American Jewish Century and the Future of Jewish Life.” Part memoir, part history, Leifer’s book, which unexpectedly received widespread attention because an event with him was canceled by a Brooklyn bookstore employee since he was going to be interviewed by a “Zionist,” is a well written, thought-provoking but at times exasperating examination of the American Jewish landscape.

While he devotes considerable space to providing a leftist critique of Zionism and Israel, his main concern is with the state of American Judaism. As such, Leifer posits that in the postwar period there was a consensus around three major pillars of Judaism in the United States. The first pillar is Americanism: that America was a positive force for good in the world and that American Jews have had it better here than back in the places from which they original came or, as he puts it, “the old country.”

The second pillar is Zionism: that support for Israel displaced the religious aspects of American Judaism and it became the core element of the identity of American Jews. As Leifer notes: “Zionism served as a new glue for a Jewish identity that could no longer rest on faith in God or adherence to halacha…And such identification required little religious knowledge or familiarity.” All that it required of American Jews was that “they feel a sense of closeness to Israel and, if they felt so inclined, donate to Zionist philanthropies.”

The third pillar is liberalism: that the liberal culture of the United States enabled Jews to both maintain their liberal values and Jewish commitments, however modest the latter have become. But it has come as a huge price. On this last point, he is emphatic, and it is central to his analysis about the challenge confronting non-Orthodox Judaism: “The logic of the market reduced all aspects of life to fungible value, and religious practice became, like Pilates or yoga, just another consumer good.”

According to Leifer, these pillars were beautifully and complementarily knit together, but in recent years, they have unraveled. The current emergence of antisemitism means that America is no longer seen as the Goldene Medina as it once was. At the same time, two other primary sources of this unraveling have to do with the problematic way Zionism has unfolded in Israel in the past couple of decades, as well as the liberal culture’s hyper emphasis on individualism, personal choice, and instant gratification, all which Liefer thinks undermines religious obligation and commitment. The result is that today non-Orthodox Judaism faces a “fundamental crisis of content and purpose.”

Considering what he sees as this desultory situation, Leifer suggests four potential paths in the future: sticking with the existing, although “dying” legacy organizations, prophetically protesting the establishment, reforming liturgy and texts to fit the times, and separatist Orthodoxy. Of these options, Leifer opts for Haredi Orthodoxy, even though he recognizes its inherent limitations. As he says: “Haredi Judaism constitutes perhaps the strongest and most viable alternative to the fading American Jewish consensus.” What Leifer “admires about Haredi Judaism [is] its intentionality, the centrality of transcendent values, its commitment to community and family.”

His preference for Haredi Orthodoxy as the mode for reconstituting American Judaism is genuine, although it’s hard to imagine it having very much appeal. Why, then, does he favor this path? Leifer’s penchant for Haredi Judaism seems largely driven by his aversion to both capitalism and to the outsized role that Israel has played in American Jewish identity.

However, for Judaism to be revitalized and thrive here, as I suspect he surely knows deep down, Israel must remain in the picture as a collective force, although conceptually its role needs to be thought about differently moving forward. While Israel must be a major element in the identity of American Jews (and continued efforts must be made to strengthen and deepen the Israel-Diaspora relationship, especially among young Jewish adults of Leifer’s generation), it can’t be the only element. Indeed, greater religious observance, combined with a strong sense of community and communal obligation, practiced in a contemporary, meaningful and purposeful way, are much needed in the non-Orthodox movements, and are essential if the phenomenon of increased engagement after October 7 is to be sustainable.