ForewordOn Israel's fiftieth birthday, I found myself at a country club in Omaha, Nebraska. I was meeting with members of the local Jewish community at this club -- now a "mixed" club, though originally all Jewish -- to discuss the future of relations between Israel and the Jews of America. The moderator began by thanking me for making the effort to come to Omaha, where only about 6,000 Jews live, on such a festive day for Israel. Then he interrupted his introductory remarks and turned to me to ask, half in jest, half in earnest, "Why did you come to us on Israel's Independence Day?"
I responded to this question in an equally jocular manner, refraining from providing the deeper answer. Essentially, there were two factors that explained my presence in Omaha on Israel's jubilee birthday. On the one hand, it was very difficult for me to rejoice at home when the prime minister was Benjamin Netanyahu, a native Israeli of my own generation who was leading my country backwards in the peace process, damaging Israel's international standing, and undermining the rule of law. And on the other hand, I felt it was important for me to be with a small community, especially on such an occasion, rather than at the resplendent receptions sponsored by larger Jewish communities. Meeting with the small Jewish community in Omaha provided an opportunity for me to express my ideas on Jewish issues, and to hear and discuss their views. I saw this as a modest contribution toward bridging the wide gap between Israel and American Jewry, the two largest Jewish communities in the world, which have been separated -- consciously -- by their leaders. Establishing a real connection between these two communities in the twenty-first century could have a dramatic impact on the future of both.
We are tourists in each other's countries. Israelis tour New York, reach the West Coast, and sometimes stay in the United States for several years to study. They return home with a greater mastery of the English language and know more about American sports, but they do not necessarily return home with a better understanding of American Jewry. American Jews tour Israel as individuals or in groups, learn how to say a few phrases in Hebrew, and go home, still strangers to Israelis.
We are very careful not to interfere in each other's affairs. Even if it is clear to us as Israelis that a significant number of the groups in the Conference of Presidents of Major Jewish Organizations comprise little more than post-office boxes, we treat this framework as if it really represented the Jews of America. Even when American Jews are convinced that the policies of the government of Israel are misguided -- that Israel is naïvely pursuing peace or unnecessarily provoking its Arab neighbors -- they stick essentially to the principle that whatever government is in power in Israel deserves their unequivocal support. They save their criticism for the pages of their memoirs.
The sort of dialogue established in the 1950s and sixties by the leaders of the two large Jewish communities -- Israeli and American Jewry -- is inappropriate today and needs to undergo a major overhaul. Continuing to follow a policy of nonintervention in each other's affairs, and continuing to remain content with sponsoring the same sort of UJA missions and black-tie Israel Bonds dinners, could have a tragic impact on the future of the Jewish world -- a world largely dependent on its two greatest communities.
Just thirty or forty years ago the situation was different. The United States was then home to the largest Jewish community in the world, more than three times the size of the community in Israel. The institutions of American Jewry were still relevant for the most part, and the rate of assimilation in America was low. There were still close family ties between many of the Jews living in Israel and the United States. Telephone conversations, visits, and letters helped to maintain a real connection between the two communities.
Today the two communities are about the same size. The American Jewish community is assimilating, many of its institutions are no longer relevant, and the number of nonaffiliated American Jews exceeds the number of affiliated ones. Family ties with Israelis are often distant, separated by three or four generations. If we do not meet in Omaha on Israel's Independence Day, if we do not find ways to establish new connections, if we do not build a bridge over the Atlantic Ocean, if we do not abandon the foolish pledge to avoid involvement in each other's affairs, we will soon be forced to accept a Jewish world confined to the borders of our own countries.
Only a serious, institutionalized, and frank dialogue between the two communities can create a new situation and enable the continued existence of a Jewish world. This type of dialogue requires some acute introspection on the part of each community, with an honest recognition of each community's strengths and weaknesses. This dialogue must be conducted in a new forum, one that encourages informal contacts, supports joint projects, and examines new ideas.
The obsolescence of many Jewish institutions not only makes them less and less relevant, it also distances the individual Jew from the community. These institutions were formed to deal with specific problems but have remained in their original configuration even while seeking new challenges to justify their existence. Some have found new challenges and some are still searching; few have disbanded or merged. The leaders of many organizations continue to give exaggerated reports on the size of their membership, while the true picture is one of widespread attrition.
The aging leadership has not changed. There are no internal democratic mechanisms, and it is nearly impossible for young Jews to reach leadership positions. Young Jews in America view these organizations as old-age homes and keep their distance from them. Jewish professionals, usually in their fifties, earn substantial salaries for managing these organizations and amuse themselves by rotating the presidents of their organizations every two years in order to give their large donors the feeling that they are not only affluent but also "leaders."
The recent merger between the Jewish federations and the United Jewish Appeal is an expression of fresh thinking. On the other hand, discussions on combining the American Jewish Congress and American Jewish Committee have led nowhere. Neither the Committee (established to assist in the absorption of Jews from Germany), nor the Congress (convened to arrange democratic elections among American Jewry), nor the much older B'nai B'rith organization (formed in response to the exclusion of Jews from other clubs) would be created today if they did not already exist. By focusing their energies in other directions -- aid for Jews in distress throughout the world, international relations, human rights issues, connections with Israel, and so on -- these old organizations have extended their existence long after their original goals were realized. But in light of their dwindling and aging membership, inertia has become the main reason for the continued existence of these organizations.
The Zionist movement in America is another example of a weak and problematic framework whose elderly membership is steadily declining in numbers. For a century, this movement has taught that there is no necessary connection between Zionism and immigration to Israel. It is hard to imagine that the Zionist movement in the United States has ever actually helped any American Jew to decide in favor of making aliyah. It has always been much more helpful for American Jews considering aliyah to be in direct contact with Israel, since the American Zionist movement is still debating the anachronistic party politics of the previous generation.
This irrelevant existence of institutions dealing with the link between the Jews of America and Israel is a luxury we cannot afford. The organizations mentioned above, along with others, are responsible for the illusion that there is, ostensibly, an extensive network of connections spanning the vast geographic divide. Only when these institutions are dismantled will it become clear that although there are many trees, there is no forest. A new framework must be created if ever a forest of connections is to exist. This new framework -- or frameworks -- can serve as a bridge for two-way traffic and provide the unifying vitality that is missing today.
We know each other, but not really. It is not surprising that our acquaintance is superficial, with the exception of those few among us who have spent some years in both communities. The truth is, we do not even know how to persuade one another, much less to win favor.
The day after my stop in Omaha, I visited Atlanta to meet with the leaders of the local Jewish federation. We met in the office of Steve Selig, the president of the federation. A copy of the city's major newspaper, the Atlanta Constitution, was on his desk; it featured a picture of Selig riding a camel down Atlanta's main street during Israel's Independence Day celebrations. Selig was very proud of the picture, and his colleagues shared this excitement.
I was furious. My high-tech Israel, the world's number-three producer of start-ups (after California and Massachusetts), whose standard of living is comparable to that of Great Britain, is epitomized on its Independence Day by a camel ride! Selig and his federation colleagues could not comprehend my anger. They were sure that once I saw the camel, I would be reminded of Israel and feel flattered . . .
If we abide such camel rides for another generation, while doing nothing to revamp our shrinking and aging institutions, we may miss the precious opportunity to build a bridge. The camel ride must end now. We must replace this theater of the absurd that characterizes the relations between Israel and American Jewry, with its faded set and dreadful conservatism, and do so quickly.
We would be making a mistake to take an arrogant approach with one another, thinking that either of us has all of the solutions for the other side. Both communities have the right to be proud of their great achievements, but they must also recognize their major failures. Neither community -- even if it tried -- could succeed in refashioning the other in its own image. Yet if we tried to exploit the advantages of cooperation, we could derive great benefits merely from the fact that we are not giving up on each other. The book before you seeks to contribute to the creation of such cooperation.
This book is written with great love for the tormented people into which I happened to be born. It is intended to describe the current situation of Jewry at the dawn of the twenty-first century, to take a peek into the third millennium and to anticipate events likely to occur at its outset. It offers several proposals aimed at changing the frameworks for dealing with the "Jewish problem" in its new form.
The positions I have held during the past two decades have afforded me the opportunity to visit dozens of Jewish communities. I have discovered a wonderful and fascinating world that is carrying forward an ethos that is one of the most beautiful in human history. At the end of the first half of the twentieth century, it underwent an unprecedented trauma. At the beginning of the twenty-first century, it seems to be simply disappearing of its own accord.
There are those who are not concerned with this and explain that the Jewish contribution to the world does not necessarily require Jews. The contribution of ancient Greek culture is not carried forth by the Greeks, yet its influence on the world is enormous. The same is true of the cultures of Egypt, Babylon, and Rome.
There are those who are worried by the diminishing numbers but are convinced that this is an inevitable phenomenon about which nothing can be done. From the moment that the world began accepting the Jews and moving away from anti-Semitism, the wide gate of assimilation was open. Nevertheless, despite great efforts, no one has succeeded in finding a secular substitute for religion, while the definition of the Jew in the secular world remains largely one of negation. Anti-Semitism, as Herzl believed, preserves the Jews, and its disappearance could bring about the disappearance of Jews who do not live in a sovereign Jewish community.
Others, like myself, are concerned yet believe that we should not resign ourselves to this eventuality. I understand that we are dealing with a trend, and that this trend will continue, but I believe we can mount a serious effort to minimize its dimensions and perhaps even change its direction.