Why Jews in Israel and the Diaspora are Growing Apart

You’re probably thinking that you know the answer to the title’s question: the Gaza War. However, that’s but the latest example of a much deeper factor pushing the world’s two central Jewish communities apart. In a sense, this is a repeat (or extension) of Jewish history – at least over the past 2500 years.

The divide is a matter of worldview. At its core lie two profoundly different ways of seeing the world. As a not too gross generalization, most Israeli Jews are animated by a particularistic ethos. Simply put, this is an ethic rooted in Jewish peoplehood, survival, and the country’s unique circumstances – neighborhood animosity being the prime mover. On the other hand, diaspora Jews – especially those in North America and Europe who make up the brunt of world Jewry outside Israel – tend to express a universalistic ethos. For them, Jewish values are inseparable from broader humanistic values and commitments.

Whose perspective is more attuned to historical Judaism? Neither is “more”; particularism and universalism are equally part and parcel of the Jewish tradition. On the one hand, “You shall be to me a treasured nation”; on the other, “A light unto the nations.” The difference between them is historical i.e., it depends on which “part” of Jewish history one focuses on.

The first millennium or so of Jewish settlement in the Land of Israel was rife with conflict. The Bible is a litany of struggle: slavery in Egypt; fighting off marauding tribes (e.g., Amalek) on the way to Canaan; Joshua’s long campaign of conquest; repeated wars against “recalcitrant” locals; constant fighting with the Philistines (e.g., Samson); expansionist wars by King David; and on and on. In such nationally unstable circumstances, the need for “rallying around the flag” of a particularistic religion was paramount.

Around the 6th century BCE, the Jewish diaspora story began (the Babylonian exile; the 10 Tribes exile to Assyria occurred two centuries earlier, but they disappeared forever, lost to history). Its effect on the Jewish ethos can be seen (among other places) in the Book of Esther that took place in Persia, present-day Iran: Mordechai allows his niece Esther to take part in the (non-Jewish) king’s beauty pageant! The happy end of the story has Esther as queen and Mordechai as head of state (under the king) – as quasi-assimilationist a message as one will find in the entire Bible.

An even more striking difference between the mostly particularistic Hebrew Bible and the later diaspora ethos can be perceived in what is NOT in the bible: the Book of Maccabees. One can fairly ask: why would the rabbis in the 2nd century CE include the Book of Esther and not the Book of Maccabees? The clear answer: the former was a story of Jewish triumph through clever subterfuge within the diaspora’s political system; the latter’s victory was gained through military might. But after the Roman destruction of the Second Temple, and the later devastation upon the Bar Kochva Revolt, the Talmud’s rabbis had seen enough disastrous outcomes of the overly particularistic-militaristic ethos. That’s why they chose the following sentence to conclude the Haftorah reading during every shabbat Hanukkah (Zechariah 4: 6): “Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, says the Lord of hosts.”

And that’s basically the way things stayed for the next 1800 years, until modern Zionism reentered the historical picture. The early pioneers brought with them their diasporic universalism, but circumstances wouldn’t enable this to become the national ethos because early on – and continuing to this very day – the Zionist state found itself under existential threat. Surrounded by hostility since the country’s birth (even before then), undergoing wars, intifadas, and terror, Israeli society has gravitated towards greater particularism, a manifestation of tribal solidarity. In Israel, the repeat of ancient history’s fight for national survival has pushed aside the past two thousand years-worth of growing universalism. The general motto expressing this is ancient: “If I am not for myself, who will be for me?” (Mishneh: Pirkei Avot, 1:14).

This is in relatively stark contrast to large swaths of Diaspora Jewry, particularly American, British, and Canadian Jews. For most, collective survival is not the core; rather, social integration and moral influence drives most non-Israeli Jews overseas. Jewish identity is often shaped and expressed by participating in universal justice causes, from civil rights (LGBTQ+ and racial equality) to refugee resettlement and climate activism. Among other Jewish media, synagogue bulletins routinely elevate tikkun olam – repairing the world – as the highest Jewish calling. Maintaining moral voice, fighting anti-Semitism and Islamophobia, and supporting democracy are all intertwined.

The Oct. 7 attack and its bloody, reprisal aftermath provided a public stage for these divergent instincts. The almost universal response in Israel was fury, with public conversation and the media emphasizing internal unity, resilience, and the legitimacy of its military response – with little patience for international criticism or empathy for Palestinian suffering.

By contrast, many Diaspora communities were anguished not only because of Israeli losses but also with Palestinian suffering. Social media paired Israeli and Palestinian flags. Paradoxically (given rising antisemitism), for many younger Diaspora Jews the war increased their universalistic Jewish identity, leading to Israeli accusations of “disloyalty” or naivete.

The Gaza War was but the latest sign of growing division between the world’s “two Jewries.” Other major issues: 1) Israel recognizes only Orthodox conversions and marriages, at odds with the more inclusive approach of majority, non-Orthodox, Jewish denominations in America and Europe. 2) Diaspora Jews often gravitate toward interfaith activism; most Israelis viewing non-Jewish partnerships as diluting communal strength. 3) Diaspora protests against settlement policy are perceived by Israelis as attacks by “family” members lacking skin in the game.
Where do Jews go from here? Hard to tell. On the one hand, the gap is growing in no small part due to (but not only) the Gaza War. On the other hand, with antisemitism increasing around the world, most Jews in Diaspora tend to react with greater emphasis on Jewish particularism. The internal tug of war continues – not only between Israel and the Diaspora, but also within each Jew, trying to mesh “If I am not for myself…” with “If I am only for myself…”.