These are conflicted and troubling times for American Jews. Especially for young American Jews. Especially for ideologically liberal American Jews.
The starting point, of course, was the horrifying, despicable attack on innocent Israelis by Hamas on October 7. Most observers, most world leaders condemned the vicious terrorist onslaught, the senseless loss of life, the defilement of human bodies, the taking of women, children, and the elderly as hostages.
Then came the Israeli response. Everyone expected Israel to respond. No one expected that the IDF response would result in the loss of tens of thousands of lives, the flattening of homes and buildings throughout Gaza, the months of human suffering, with no clear end point in view.
And thus the first conflict for many American Jews. Since President Truman became the first world leader—and thus the United States, the first nation—to recognize the State of Israel in 1948, on no issue have more Jews been in agreement than on the need for the existence of a Jewish state. Some have been ardent Zionist; some, less certain; but virtually none questioned the existence of Israel and the values on which it was founded.
That consensus was fractured, if only slightly, in 1982, when Israel invaded Lebanon, in a failed attempt to stop terrorist attacks against Israeli citizens. As that invasion proved costly in terms of Israeli and Lebanese lives and property, some Jews found room to criticize the policies of the Israeli government, to argue that the actions of the IDF under Defense Minister Ariel Sharon went further than Israel should have gone.
Over time the split between American Jews who supported each Israeli government’s policy toward its Arab neighbors and the Palestinians without second guessing, believing that the Israelis knew what was best for themselves, and those who supported Israel but disagreed with the direction of Israeli policy aimed at securing a permanent peace in the Middle East, under more conservative Israeli prime ministers, grew. For much of the late 20th century, AIPAC, the American Israel Public Affairs Committee, was the dominant voice for American Jews on Middle East policy. Particularly after the 1973 Yom Kippur War (though it had been in existence for two decades before that time), AIPAC lobbied for U.S. policy to support whatever government was in power in Israel at the time. In 2007, however, J Street formed as an organization that describes itself as pro-Israel but pro-peace; J Street often takes positions on Middle East policy quite different from those of a sitting Israeli government or of AIPAC.
That was the situation as of last October. AIPAC was the most prominent Jewish organization in Washington. J Street was active and visible as a counter voice, advocating for a peaceful solution to the Palestinian problem. And most American Jews were active in neither organization, most probably not focusing on Middle East affairs.
That changed with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s continuous assault on Gaza’s civilians in an effort to root out Hamas leadership. Those who had quietly supported Israeli policy without much thought were now conflicted. How can a Jewish state, with Jewish values of charity to all, of seeking a well-ordered world be carrying on a military campaign that is inflicting such obvious human suffering on innocent people. Regardless of the merits of the goal—rooting out terrorist leaders who continue to threaten the existence of Israel and the lives of Israeli citizens—the means are too extreme. Long-time supporters of Israel, in the U.S. government and among Jewish citizens throughout the nation, are openly critical of Netanyahu and of the war policy he is leading. Some have called for his resignation and for suspending aid to Israel so long as he maintains power and command over the direction of IDF actions, positions that once were unthinkable for American Jews.
Move now to young people and college campuses. Few American Jews of college or high school age—and in fact, few of their parents—have experienced anti-Semitism personally. To be sure, some have. The Anti-Defamation League (ADL) does an annual audit of anti-Semitic incidences around the nation. The number has risen alarmingly in recent years. Yet despite well-publicized examples of anti-Semitic actions—none worse than the murders at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburg in 2018—these heinous attacks have directly affected a small proportion of American Jews.
For generations, Jewish parents have reminded their children of the horrors of the Holocaust, of the stories of their grandparents who survived those horrors or who did not, of those who helped others escape and come to this land of freedom. But like the Passover story which Jews everywhere retold to their children last week, so too are the stories of the Holocaust retold, only now they are stories about great-grandparents or even great-great-grandparents, relatives from the distant past, those “of blessed memory” to be sure, but not those personally recalled. The children who have heard those stories—my children, to be honest—did not see that anti-Semitism would rear its ugly head in a way that would affect them. Their parents’ warnings were heard, but they were not felt as relevant in their lives.
No longer. Today’s youth—and their parents—see signs of anti-Semitism all around them, on the news every day. On college campuses across the nation—private universities and public, large schools ands small—pro-Palestinian demonstrators have taken action to bring their cause to the public’s attention. What exactly that cause is has varied from campus to campus. While the demonstrations certainly started as a result of the war in Gaza, many of the those demonstrating are now focused on attacking Israel and on the right of Israelis to live in their country, not on caring about the fate of the Gazan civilians struggling to find food and shelter.
Some of these demonstrators—not all to be sure—have presented their cases in ways that are blatantly anti-Semitic. While the chant of “from the river to the sea, . . .” might not be viewed as anti-Semitic by some, the phrase is used by those who literally want to wipe Israel and the Jews in Israel out of existence. Signs at some college campuses go well beyond that. It is difficult to see a sign saying “Everything about Israel is illegal,” or “Al-Qassam’s next target,” or “Globalize the Intifada,” each of which has been shown in widely circulated news photos of college demonstrations, as anything but threatening to Israel and more broadly to Jews.
Some Jewish college students have felt threatened. Many at Columbia, as an example, have left the campus for their homes. Others have reported being spit upon and verbally harassed. On many college campuses Jewish student leaders have reported that the atmosphere on their campus makes them feel unsafe.
The experiences are not universal. Leon Kraiem, writing for the JERUSALEM POST, noted the presence of Jewish students in the encampment in front of Low Library at Columbia. They even held a Passover Seder inside the encampment; and there was one sign designating a gathering of Ethiopian Jews for Palestine.
What Kraiem noticed, however, was that signs calling for a “cease fire” were all but absent; those calling for an uprising, a revolution, an intifada dominated the scene. And the demands, at campuses from California to Texas, to Massachusetts, call for university divestment from companies connected to Israel. Those encamped say they will not leave until their demands are met.
Thus, the third conflict for American Jews—they are conflicted over American policy toward Israel and Israeli policy in Gaza. They are troubled because of rising anti-Semitism, some growing out of this situation, some having built up over a period of years. And, many, as liberals with a long history of protecting civil rights, are conflicted as to how to respond to the encampments on so many campuses.
Free speech is a core value. The right to assemble and to protest is a core value. But what happens when the right to protest, to articulate one’s views of the key issues of the day, threatens other people, restricts the freedom of those who feel threatened to go about their daily lives, prevents a university from performing its core function of educating, leads to the occupation of academic buildings and the destruction of property?
Those who were involved in anti-Vietnam War protests—like those at Columbia in 1968—see this conflict and feel that the lessons of those disruptive campus protests were not learned. If university officials need to call police or state troopers to restore order on their campuses as many now have done, they have failed. It is not that they failed when the protests started. It is that they failed to anticipate these kinds of actions. But, more importantly, they failed in not establishing open lines of communication over a period of years with those holding the wide range of views that are encouraged in an academic setting. They failed in not emphasizing the core values of educational institutions—among them to encourage dialogue among those with conflicting views based on a careful assessment of factual material. One does not have to accept views held by any group; one has to engage with that group, to encourage dialogue, to say “no” when it is appropriate, to bend when one can.
In short, those university presidents failed in leading their campuses. University and college presidents are chosen for many reasons. They must serve many masters—trustees, donors, public officials, alumni, faculty, staff, and students. But their role is not just to serve; it is to lead.
It will be instructive to compare those campuses which have handled the current protests peacefully through negotiations with those who have lost control of the situation and needed to call in law enforcement. To be sure, outside agitators have had a role on some campuses, and one charismatic, belligerent student leader can set a series of events in motion that cannot be stopped, but on too many campuses, the lack of open communication and the lack of leadership in creating a campus environment in which all feel their concerns will be heard and taken into account has had dire consequences. For many of those institutions the fallout will be felt for some time to come.
https://www.npr.org/2024/05/01/1248403491/at-brown-university-protesters-and-administrators-reach-deal-to-end-encampment I am satisfied with the negotiated settlement reached at the University where I attended Graduate School and was a student on May 4, 1970. I lived the protests then and I read of the negotiated settlement now and I think Brown responded appropriately at both junctures. Holding a vote is the most democratic of outcomes.