What Israeli-Americans Might Understand More Than Others

Within the Jewish community, American Jews are typically known to experience the paradox of the comfort that comes with assimilation, and increasing hate crimes. Israeli Jews are known to have the freedom of Jewish self-determination and insulation, but with constant threats of terror and enduring warfare from their neighbors. What Israeli Americans may have that the latter two groups generally don’t is a more nuanced perspective of these collective realities, and the global Jewish community at large should heed their voices.

Israeli immigrants and their children in the United States comprise roughly ten percent of the American Jewish community today. These children recall the severity of stories about the Yom Kippur War, the Second Intifada and Saddam’s SCUD missiles. They also grow up learning the history of Jews who made their way to the United States pre- and post-Shoah, facing institutional discrimination like immigration and enrollment quotas, denial of employment opportunities, and KKK lynchings. But they’re also able to consciously bridge the recent experiences of Pittsburgh, Jersey City, and Colleyville with the ongoing Palestinian terror coming from the West Bank and Gaza Strip in a way that may be sharper than Jews who’ve known just one place. Israeli-Americans and their children may arguably better grasp the nuances of antisemitism, which has become politicized and increasingly diverse in sources.

Understanding the past and present matters for our future. When it comes to confronting internal challenges, such as how American politics may affect one-half of world Jewry in Israel and Israeli politics the other half in America and beyond, Israeli-Americans can serve as a balancing factor. Take, for example, former President Donald Trump’s repeated use of the antisemitic loyalty canard, his encouragement of the rioters of the Capitol on January 6, 2021, or his continuing affiliations with mogul and antisemite, Kanye West. Prior to these events, many young Israeli-Americans already understood (like most Jewish Americans) that President Trump was a severely polarizing figure who alienated many other communities of color that will soon be the majority U.S. electorate. Israelis, on the other hand were largely blinded by President Trump’s countless pro-Israel policies, many still viewing him as a messianic figure, without acknowledging how he threatened bipartisanship for the U.S.-Israel relationship and tried to destroy solidarity between Jews and other minorities in America more than his predecessors.

With regard to the new far-right government elected recently in Israel, many Jewish Americans are troubled by the aggressive posture of Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu in diplomacy with U.S. Democrats, without understanding how ongoing Palestinian terror despite countless Israeli peace offers has been the nail in the coffin for a Palestinian state (and much of the Israeli left) for years. Moreover, Jewish Americans are fearful that Israeli hawkishness will alienate American voters and sabotage the liberal basis that unites them with their non-Jewish American allies—some even asserting that antisemitic hate crimes are escalating under the excuse of Israeli governmental behavior. Israeli-Americans have taken a keen and steady approach, leading many efforts toward U.S. anti-BDS legislation and introducing IHRA and Holocaust education bills to address Jewish security in both Israel and America. They also comprehend the complexity and depth of Israeli policymaking in a dangerous region and are better equipped than many Jewish Americans to explain the strong emphasis on security with personal stories.

On the reciprocal end, American-Israelis and many other olim chadashim have unique potential to see where Israel is lacking in development and directly contribute to producing that change—including on populism and religion and state. A growing number are voluntarily serving in the Israel Defense Forces and making aliyah, returning to Israel as active citizens and organizing to combat polarization and extremism from both political aisles. Having experienced alienation for their Jewishness and Israeliness, Israeli Americans and American Israelis know that empathy is the key ingredient to any successful means of political discourse, particularly in a country as diverse, traumatized and divided as Israel.

The most sensitive but also most urgent question facing the common Jewish future is the question of identity. From the lessons of Hanukkah to the Holocaust, identity has become synonymous with the security and freedoms that Jews enjoy. As the only Jewish and democratic state and permanent refuge for Jews, the consolidation over disputed land (and religious authority for its Jewish citizens) are thus matters concerning the future of all world Jewry. Constructive criticism from Israeli Americans can better inform conversations on these issues and shouldn’t require anyone’s permission.

Constructive criticism from Israeli Americans can better inform conversations on these issues and shouldn’t require anyone’s permission.

As explained prior, the long-standing rightist political trend in Israel is well-founded. However, will Israel actually secure its Jewish character by hastening de facto unilateral annexation of the West Bank (Judea and Samaria)—absorbing millions of hostile neighbors in long-designated future Palestinian territory? Israeli Americans living outside this “End-of-Days” feverish hype might remark that it is not as promising as the tactical and consultative turn of early Zionist pioneers, who made great strides by appealing to the world through speech and secured development. In fact, it might severely downgrade Israel’s military, strategic and diplomatic advances by eliminating Palestinian autonomy for good. The sacrifice of more lives cannot guarantee these aspirations and ensure that the Palestinians comply. If Israel expels the Arabs, Israel would simply be exporting the launching pad beyond its border, as in the 1970s with the PLO in Jordan and Lebanon.

And on religion and state—is it sustainable and moral to have a growing sector of Israel’s population (haredim) willingly out of the workforce and conscription, while limiting the personal status liberties of secular and non-Orthodox Jewish Israelis? Again, in each of these existential cases, Israeli-Americans might have the insight and audacity to say no and provide alternative compromises. (The safest Jewish answer in uncertainty is that if Mashiach is to come, let him come in peace, not through war and theocratic coercion.)

Multiple truths stand from these realizations. Israeli-Americans may have a higher level of experience with both Israeli and American society and politics. When it comes to the experience of hate, all Jews are targets of Zionophobia and antisemitism, and at large must have the right to define the distinct hate that we experience for broader public understanding. However, one need not have a certain identity in order to have valuable insights or legitimate perspectives in one’s commentary—including on internal Jewish-American or Israeli affairs. Believing otherwise is an inherently limiting and fallacious concept. On any issue pertaining to any group, we could all learn from one another with empathy, regardless of our innate identities.

Simultaneously, what Israeli Americans may have to offer is a new political consciousness and force in the Jewish community that bonds common concerns to catalyze uncomfortable but necessary change, wherever Jews live. The hybridity of Israeli-Americans can teach us to recognize the inherent ties each of us bears to our respective struggles and seize our common Jewish future together.

Note: The views expressed in this article are solely the author’s and do not reflect the views of his employer, the IAC.

Justin Feldman is the Senior Program Manager of the Israeli-American Council (IAC) Mishelanu. You can follow him on Twitter @eishsadehy.