The Jewish Vote Is Small. In 2026, Its Leverage May Be Enormous

Every election year, somebody tells us that the Jewish vote could decide the election.

I have usually been skeptical.

American Jews have a tendency, perhaps an understandable one, to overestimate our centrality to American political life. We are, after all, only a little more than 2 percent of the American population. Millions of Americans are not sitting around waiting to see how the Jews of Westchester, Boca Raton or suburban Detroit vote before deciding the fate of the Republic.

But 2026 may be different. Not because there are suddenly more Jews.

Because American politics has become so closely divided that a relatively small group of voters can exercise influence far beyond its size if three things are true: they vote in large numbers, they are geographically concentrated, and they live in places where elections are close.

American Jews check all three boxes. And with control of the House potentially turning on only a handful of seats, that matters. The real question is therefore not whether 2 percent of the American population can determine a national election.

It is whether Jewish voters can influence three or four congressional districts. That is a much more plausible proposition.

The Jewish vote has leverage

Political power is not simply about population. It is population multiplied by turnout, geographic concentration and the closeness of the race. American Jews vote at unusually high rates. They are also heavily concentrated in places like New York, South Florida, Pennsylvania and metropolitan Detroit.

Put a high-turnout Jewish population into a congressional district decided by several thousand votes and suddenly a supposedly tiny constituency becomes politically significant.

That is the Jewish political multiplier.

And despite everything we have heard since October 7, American Jews remain overwhelmingly Democratic. That deserves some attention because the political discomfort inside the Jewish community is very real.

As a Democrat and as someone living in Israel, I understand it.

I have been deeply disturbed by what I have heard and seen from the progressive left: criticism of Israeli governments slipping into questioning Israel’s legitimacy, Jewish students facing hostility that would never be tolerated if directed at almost any other minority, and Zionism increasingly treated by activists as something for which Jews should apologize.

I know many lifelong Jewish Democrats who feel less comfortable in parts of the coalition they helped build. But discomfort is not the same thing as political realignment.

Recent polling continues to show roughly two-thirds of Jewish voters supporting Democrats in congressional elections. That is not a Jewish stampede toward the Republican Party that some would lead you to believe is happening in this election cycle.

It is something much more complicated.

American Jews are Americans

One of the things I think we misunderstand here in Israel is the assumption that American Jews vote primarily on Israel. They don’t.

Israel matters deeply. But American Jews are not Israelis-by-proxy. They vote on healthcare, abortion rights, democratic institutions, the economy, gun violence, civil rights, antisemitism—and Israel.

A Jewish voter can be furious with a Democratic politician over Israel and still believe that that Democrat better represents her values on reproductive freedom, healthcare and democracy. Another Jewish voter may reach the point where Israel or antisemitism overwhelms every other issue.

Both are Jewish. Both may care passionately about Israel. But there is no single “Jewish vote.”

An Orthodox voter in New York may inhabit a very different political world from a Reform Jewish woman in suburban Philadelphia. A 70-year-old shaped by the civil-rights movement may understand the Democratic Party very differently from a 25-year-old Jewish graduate student.

That diversity matters. And so does Donald Trump.

Republicans clearly see an opportunity among Jews who are increasingly angry about Israel and antisemitism on the left. However, Republicans too are exhibiting anti-Israel tendencies. Many Jews look toward the right and see political extremism, Christian nationalism, conspiracy theories and attacks on democratic institutions.  That is not making a case for Jews to rush into the “open arms” of the Republican party.

At the same time, many Jewish voters today look left and become uncomfortable. But then they look right again and become even more uncomfortable.

For some, that is not political realignment. It’s what we refer to today as political homelessness.

Watch the margin, not the winner

Republicans do not need to “win the Jewish vote” for Jewish voters to change the outcome of the election. They only need to reduce the Democratic margin.

Imagine 100,000 Jewish voters voting 70-30 Democratic. That gives Democrats a 40,000-vote advantage. Now imagine they vote 60-40. Republicans have still lost the Jewish vote badly. But the Democratic advantage has been cut in half.

In a landslide election, nobody cares. In an election where control of the House could turn on three seats, that can matter enormously. So the number I would watch on election night is not how many Jews became Republicans.

Most won’t. I would watch how large the Democratic Jewish margin remains.

And then there are those of us voting from Israel

There is another part of this story that receives remarkably little attention in America.

American voters living in Israel. I am one of them.

Estimates around the 2024 election put the number of voting-eligible Americans living in Israel at roughly 147,000, with some using even higher estimates.

We are obviously not some secret Israeli voting bloc capable of deciding an American election. But neither should we be dismissed. Americans abroad do not vote in an imaginary 51st state called “Overseas.”

We vote back home.

An American living in Jerusalem may still vote in Pennsylvania. Someone in Tel Aviv may vote in New York. Someone sitting here with me in Haifa may be casting a Michigan ballot. That means an American living six thousand miles from a congressional district can still help determine who represents it.

And in a close election, distance is irrelevant. A ballot does not become less valuable because it crossed an ocean. The larger problem is participation. Americans overseas vote at remarkably low rates, particularly in midterm elections.

That is an astonishing waste of political influence. Voting from abroad is admittedly less convenient. It means requesting the ballot, understanding state rules, meeting deadlines and making sure the ballot is returned correctly.

But democracy is often decided by very undramatic things. Forms. Deadlines. Envelopes. Signatures. And whether people bother to vote.

Living in Israel changes the equation

I would also be very careful about assuming that Americans living in Israel vote exactly like American Jews living in New York, Chicago or Los Angeles.

Living here changes the lens. Israel is not a  foreign policy issue when you live in – Israel. Iran is not an abstract geopolitical argument. Hamas is not something experienced primarily through television.

When American politicians debate whether to support Israel militarily, how to confront antisemitism or how to speak about Zionism, the consequences feel considerably closer from Haifa than they may from Illinois.

That does not mean American voters here are all Republicans. We are not.

There are Democrats, Republicans, independents, religious Jews, secular Jews and just about every political variation imaginable.

I remain an American Democrat. But I would be surprised if Israel and national security did not carry greater weight for American voters living here than they do for many Jews living in America.

That deserves serious study rather than stereotype.

Democrats should not take Jewish voters for granted

This is where I become uncomfortable with some Democrats who see a 65 or 70 percent Jewish Democratic vote and conclude that everything is fine.

Everything is not fine.

A community can continue voting for you while gradually becoming alienated from you. Political change often happens slowly before it happens suddenly. If Democrats decide that Jewish voters have nowhere else to go, they will be making one of the oldest mistakes in politics: taking a loyal constituency for granted. Support for Israel does not mean supporting every Israeli government. I certainly do not.

American Jews should be able to criticize Israeli policy as fiercely as Israelis do without having their loyalty questioned. But there is a profound difference between opposing an Israeli government and opposing Israel’s legitimacy. There is a difference between advocating for Palestinian rights and demanding that Jews apologize for believing that the Jewish people have a right to national self-determination. Democrats who cannot understand that distinction risk losing something more important than votes.

They risk losing trust.

Republicans should not celebrate prematurely either. Jewish liberalism is not an accident held together solely by Israel.

It comes from generations of Jewish American experience: immigration, minority rights, religious freedom, separation of church and state, civil rights, women’s equality, public education and the defense of democratic institutions.

Those commitments run deep. Simply telling Jewish voters that Republicans are “better on Israel” will not erase them.

I live inside this contradiction

I watch American politics from Israel. When American politicians debate Israel’s security, I live close to the consequences. When rockets are fired, we hear them. In some cases we feel them. When Israeli parents worry about their children serving in the army, those are families around us.

And when anti-Israel rhetoric abroad crosses into hostility toward Jews, we recognize that line quickly. So yes, Israel matters enormously to me. And still,  I remain an American Democrat. I do not see a contradiction. I care about Israel and American democracy. I care about Jewish security and reproductive freedom.

I believe Israel has the right to exist as the nation-state of the Jewish people, and I believe Palestinians deserve dignity, security and a political future of their own. And while I say this, I am fully aware of the complexity behind the statement and recognize the long road ahead of us that will enable us (and the Palestinians) to achieve this goal. Politics becomes dangerous when we are told that only one of those sentences may be true at a time.

Perhaps that complexity is exactly why the Jewish electorate remains so interesting.

The Jewish vote is small. Its leverage is not.

The Jewish vote in 2026 will not matter because there are so many of us.

There aren’t. It may matter because Jewish voters are engaged, concentrated, still largely Democratic and located near some of America’s closest political fault lines. The effect will probably not appear as some dramatic national “Jewish wave.”

It will appear in margins. Five thousand votes here. Ten thousand there. A Jewish suburb remaining heavily Democratic. An Orthodox community moving Republican. A group of Jewish Democrats deciding they cannot support one particular candidate. Another deciding that however angry they are about Israel, the alternative is worse.

And perhaps a few thousand ballots arriving from Jerusalem, Tel Aviv, Haifa, Ra’anana or Beit Shemesh into American districts where nobody imagined that voters living in Israel might matter.

That, to me, is the real story of the Jewish vote in 2026.

My hope—as a Jew, an American, an Israeli resident and a Democrat—is that neither party mistakes Jewish political leverage for ownership. Jewish voters do not belong to Democrats. They do not belong to Republicans. We should demand something from both. Take antisemitism seriously wherever it comes from. Support Israel without demanding silence about its government’s mistakes.  Protect American democracy. And stop treating Jews as a single-issue constituency.

For those of us who remain American citizens while living here in Israel, I would add one more obligation.

Vote.

If we retain the privilege of participating in American democracy from thousands of miles away, distance is not an excuse for disengagement. Perhaps the most important story about the Jewish vote in 2026 will therefore not be which party “won the Jews.”

It will be that American Jews did what we have done for generations: We showed up. We argued passionately about almost everything.

And then we voted.

This is the third article in a series of articles leading up to the 2026 midterm elections.