Through the Lens of Peoplehood

Yizhar Hess

Israel and relations between Israel and the Diaspora find themselves at a crossroads. After October 7th, the ensuing war, and rising antisemitism worldwide. After four years of Israel living under the most extreme and divisive government in its history there has been the rise of a new generation of Diaspora Jews who are skeptical about Israel and Zionism. Yet, while the current context is new, many of these challenges are just extended, modern reflections of divides in the Jewish world that existed before the Zionism as we know it emerged in the late 1800s, from the Jewish world of Europe in that period.

Much of that world was dominated by the large Hasidic dynasties. I have always had tremendous affection and love for these, and none is larger than the Satmar dynasty. Not Chabad. Not Gur. Not Slonim, Karlin, Belz, or Vizhnitz. At a time when Zionism was nothing but a fringe idea, in the town of Satu Mare (Sat-Mar), this dynasty was taking hold.

Today, the Satmar Rebbe resides in Brooklyn. And as is customary among rebbes, every smile, every word, every gesture carries meaning. But what most Israelis know the Satmar for is their fierce opposition to Zionism. For the Satmar, Zionism is heresy. Satmar in Israel don’t vote in elections or take a single shekel from the state. In New York City, where they do vote - many voted for Mamdani.

But after hearing all of that, consider this. On his way to a recent, historic trip to Israel, the Satmar Rebbe stopped for a day in Greece for a brief layover. When he stepped out briefly to stretch his legs, surrounded by his entourage, they were stunned by the shouts that greeted them on the streets of Greece. “Free Palestine!” “Go away!” “Israel is committing genocide in Gaza!”

Sadly, of course, such antisemitism - the targeting and smearing of the Jewish state and beyond that, of random Jews for its supposed actions - is today commonplace in Greece, across Europe, and worldwide. Chinese tourists or people of Chinese ancestry are not accosted in the streets because of the actions of the Chinese state. Neither are Russians. But when it comes to Jews - easily identifiable in the case of the Satmar - this happens.

But what to make of the fact that in this case in particular, it was directed at the Satmar Rebbe? If there were anyone in the Jewish world who it makes less sense to associate with Israel and Zionism - it’s the Satmar Rebbe.

Of course, it surely says something about the hateful, indiscriminate nature of antisemitism and those who spread it. But when taken historically, it also points towards something else: the success of Israel and Zionism in becoming core to Jewish identity for Jews and non-Jews alike. Even for Jews who are far from being supporters of Israel - that lack of support in itself has become a core characteristic and question in defining one’s Jewish identity. It is inescapable.

Simply put, Herzl succeeded. Even if a small minority of Jews would describe this dream as a nightmare, it is hard to argue we are quite literally living today what was once Herzl’s pipedream. From Herzl bringing just 200 people to the First Zionist Congress to Israel today being home to nearly half of world Jewry and at the center of Jewish identity and discourse in Diaspora communities. Today, for Jews and non-Jews - the Jewish state is the state of the Jews.

Today, we in Israel live in a sovereign country that, despite its flaws and the immense challenges we face, remains, as of today, a Jewish and democratic one. A state with a strong army. A resilient economy. A vibrant academia. Literature and poetry. A groundbreaking hi-tech industry.

Even if numerically, we in Israel are the second-largest Jewish community in the world behind North America’s - what happens here in Israel shapes the Jewish discourse and the lives of Jews around the world in a way that frankly, few developments in the Diaspora truly shape the lives and discourse in Israel. For better or for worse.

Now, this didn’t happen overnight. Certainly not overnight between May 14th and 15th, 1948. Most Jews weren’t even avowed Zionists at that time. Yes, the money flowed: without North American Jewry, Israel could not have survived economically in its first decade. But that didn’t make them Zionists, and it didn’t make Israel a pillar of their Jewish identity. So, when did this change? Many would say around the waiting period in the months before the Six Day War.

In Israel, shelters opened. Volunteers dug trenches in public parks and empty lots. Young and old alike filled sandbags and kept looking for ways to help. Emergency command centers sprang up across the country.

At the time, around three million Jews lived in Israel - then about a quarter of the world’s Jews. Relatively few Jews from around the world had ever visited here. They had read about Israel. They watched short black-and white films and newsreels. But it was like a relationship with a small, weak, distant relative.

But as Egyptian forces moved into Sinai and Syrian forces were in the Golan, and as genuine fear gripped Israel - a wave of dread, particularly in the shadow of the Holocaust, spread over Jews around the world. They followed the news closely. And suddenly Israel, even if you didn’t have a single relative there, even if you had never visited, even if you never identified as Zionist - became the subject everyone was talking about.

And then, after the waiting, came the great victory of the Six-Day War. Today, with five-plus decades of tribulations and many poor decisions behind us, things may feel different. But there is no doubt that this victory saved Israel and that at the time, euphoria replaced fear. And with that, suddenly, even if you weren’t really a Zionist, living in Toronto or Chicago or London, never having considered immigrating to or visiting Israel - you felt something was happening there. In that State of Israel.

If you were an observant Jew in New York, you saw it as a sign from heaven. If you were a Jewish student, long-haired, just back from Woodstock, now studying on a Boston campus, you felt that the most thrilling chapter in Jewish history was being written right now in Israel. And you suddenly wanted to feel and be part of it. The Six-Day War gave a sense of pride to Jews around the world. It turned Israel into a success story. More than that, it helped Jews everywhere feel proud of who they were. Proud of their identity. And the statistics bear this out: the decade that followed saw more identification with Israel, immigration to Israel, and visits to Israel. A few years later, while the Yom Kippur War created deep rifts in Israeli society, among Diaspora Jews, it actually served to deepen the sense of connection and commitment that had been fostered following the Six Day War. Of course, Operation Entebbe the following year did so even further.

In the years that followed, and particularly following the restructuring of Israel’s economy in the 1980s and the fall of the Soviet Union, Israel developed into a modern country that fulfilled so many elements of the Zionist vision. Herzl’s political dream. Ahad Ha’am’s cultural dream. Even Jabotinsky’s dream of strength. Of course, the country is not without its faults and I am not without my criticisms. But there is no doubt that Israel’s existence and the nature of its existence today are a great miracle. The words of our anthem, Hatikvah, ring true.

But Zionism’s success, for all its immense advantages, also brings growing responsibility. Because as Israel shifts from being a Jewish center to The Jewish Center, anything that happens here affects not only Israel and its citizens, but every Jew, everywhere.

When it’s for the best, it’s wonderful. Take Operation Entebbe, which filled Jews around the world with pride. But moments like these also reveal another phenomenon. Entebbe wasn’t only a catalyst for identification with Israel. It was also a catalyst for Jewish identity itself. I mean connecting with your Jewish roots thanks to this phenomenon known as the Israeli State. A Jewish state that rescues its captives, that seems to operate with almost miraculous abilities. A Hollywood-like operation, decisive, clever, and beyond reproach. This is all wonderful with a positive effect.

But what happens when the effect isn’t positive? What is the impact on Jewish identity when the Jewish state does things that look bad or, well, are bad? Let’s say, purely hypothetically, that Israel launches a military operation and in its midst, innocent civilians are accidentally killed. We know these things can happen. It’s happened to every army during every war.

And suppose it happens again. Then a month later, again. Unintentionally. By mistake. With no intention whatsoever of targeting civilians. And I don’t for a moment suspect otherwise when the IDF is involved. But suppose then a minister in the Israeli government gives an interview and says in Hebrew, but it’s immediately translated worldwide, that this incident wasn’t a mistake at all. That all of Israel’s enemies are marked for death. That there are no innocents. Not children. Not babies. That in his view, even captives with their hands raised should be shot. Totally hypothetically of course. What happens?

Set aside, for a moment, the moral impact on us internally. On Israeli society and the IDF. Set aside, too, the potential legal consequences in terms of international law. The potential diplomatic consequences as well. For now, let’s analyze this strictly through the lens of Jewish peoplehood. It’s certainly a PR crisis, but it’s much more than that. Zionism has succeeded not only as a political idea, but as a state that carries and serves as a force for Jewish identity. Putting aside the diplomatic and public relations impacts - putting aside the non-Jewish world - what is the impact on Jews and their Jewish identity?

Through its own success, Israel has, without necessarily having intended to do so, become for Jews an agent of Jewish identity. And therefore, any shift for the worse in Israel, or anything perceived as such, can perhaps have an adverse effect on those Jews’ identity. That is, if the State of Israel had a positive influence on Jewish identity worldwide when it acted properly, inspirationally, successfully, morally, justly - then it may also have a negative influence when it does otherwise. Not on its legitimacy as a state, but on the Jewish identity of Jews around the world. If, God forbid, it acts, or is perceived to act, in ways that are improper, unsuccessful, immoral, or unjust. To be clear, I’m speaking about this as a matter of Jewish identity - not in any way to create a framework of responsibility. The notion of holding Jews and Jewish institutions responsible - in word or in deed - for the actions of Israel’s government is repulsive, reprehensible antisemitism. But what I’ve just said should deeply concern anyone who cares about fostering and strengthening Jewish identity among Jews. Anyone for whom Zionism as a core part of Jewish identity matters. And with all that said, for anyone shaping the policies of the Jewish state, that is, the Israeli government. Alongside the responsibility every Israeli government carries, this one, the previous one, and those yet to come, to lead the nation-state of the Jewish people in all the usual areas a government is responsible for, the economy, the military, education, infrastructure, there is an additional responsibility. One that almost no one seems to be thinking about.

Just as Israel has served for much of its history as an accelerator of Jewish identity worldwide, it could, God forbid, also become a limiting force. Even a suppressing one. A force that pushes people away. If the Jewish state strays from its path, from its foundational story, which to me is the vision of Herzl, alongside the Declaration of Independence, it could, in a historical process that I find nightmarish, distance Jews around the world not only from Israel, but from their Jewish identity itself. That frightens me.

That is why I’ve insisted on including the value of Jewish peoplehood among the core values of today’s Zionist movement. To emphasize how vital the relationship with Diaspora Jewry truly is. Because Zionism’s success has made an immense contribution to Jewish identity worldwide. But if Israel fails the aforementioned test: if we do not strive to build a model society here; if we do not remain a Jewish and democratic state with an unquestioned rule of law; if we distance ourselves from the world in terms of international legal norms… the consequence is not merely damage to Israel’s public image. The consequence could be one of two equally bad outcomes. Either there might be fewer Jews in the world, as some people will drift away from their Jewish identity if they look at the Jewish state and say to themselves ‘if that’s what a Jewish collective looks like, then Judaism must not be for me’. Or, alternatively, Jews who, in order to preserve that identity, distance themselves as much as possible from the State of Israel.

And to me, this is exactly what we saw in the alarming vote, at least in my view, by 30 percent of New York City’s Jews for now-Mayor Zohran Mamdani. We Israelis were surprised by that result.  But what does it mean that a third of the Jews in the largest Jewish city in the world, New York, which has more Jews than Jerusalem, chose to vote for this man given his well-known positions. We can be angry at them. But could it be that we, too, bear some responsibility? And if so, what should we do - what do we do differently?

I want to speak about our people from a Zionist perspective of Jewish peoplehood. Of course, before discussing the challenges and what we can do differently - even if every challenge I’ve named so far is indeed accurate - we must remember this: the mere ability to be in a position to act is a great privilege. We are living in the best period the Jewish people have ever known in all its history. First of all, numbers-wise, we are growing. Today, there are about 17 million Jews worldwide, roughly the same number we had on the eve of the Holocaust. It took us 80 years, but we’ve closed the gap and are continuing to grow. Not only do we have a strong Jewish Diaspora with resources and political influence. We also have a sovereign state with a strong army, capable of acting here and far beyond our borders. Today, unlike 80, 500, or 1000 years ago, when antisemitism rises, we do not lower our heads. We fight back. And hunger? How many Jews today live in desperate hunger? Fewer than in previous centuries. And how many Jews today live in non-democratic countries? A few tens of thousands, no more. The Jewish people, both in Israel and the Diaspora, are in a position they have never been in before. The Golden Age in Spain pales in comparison to the condition of the Jewish people today. So, despite all the problems - everything is certainly relative - we are living in a generation in which it is good to be Jewish. In a basic reality that would’ve been unimaginable 150 years ago and that is so different from most periods in our history.

But in terms of what we do have to do  and can do differently given the challenges we face, we have to start by being brutally honest: nothing can or will change for the better in terms of Israel-Diaspora relations and Israel’s impact on Jews’ sense of Jewish identity with this current Israeli government in office. The most homogenous right-wing government in Israel’s history - a government with one vision of what it means to be Zionist and Jewish, and seeing any who disagree with that vision as essentially traitorous - has done nothing but drive Jews further away since Yariv Levin’s fateful press conference introducing the judicial overhaul on January 4th, 2023. Ultimately, even the phenomenon of the “October 7th Jew” - of Jews around the world drawing closer to their Jewish identity in the aftermath of our worst collective tragedy since the Holocaust happened in spite of this government and in the shadow of its greatest failure.

What can and should a new government do to ensure it meets that “additional responsibility” which I mentioned above: the responsibility for Israel as the nation-state of the Jewish people, to be a positive accelerator of Jewish identity? Before even taking any concrete steps, a new government must restore not just a dialogue of mutual responsibility and respect instead of a patronizing, divisive one. But for starters, any sense of dialogue whatsoever. Because even as global Jewry stood resolutely by Israel’s side after October 7th, and despite the great gratitude of Israelis and their concern for Diaspora Jews given rising antisemitism abroad: this government was nowhere to be found. Even the Diaspora Affairs Ministry in reality has been more a secondary foreign ministry for outreach to far-right parties, many of which have (to put it mildly) dubious records on antisemitism. Coalition politicians spent significant energy this year trying to implement a prison sentence for prayer at the Egalitarian Kotel.

On that note, in terms of practical steps, a new Israeli government can work towards the implementation of the Kotel agreement reached a decade ago - or at the very least, as a first step, restore access at the Egalitarian Kotel to the wall itself. Access that has been denied for specious reasons under political pressure for 7 years. We can roll back what has been creeping central government influence over the selection of municipal Rabbis - ultimately, more local autonomy on matters of religion and state means real pluralism, with different communities able to shape their own Jewish reality. In this new term at the national institutions - WZO, KKL/JNF, and the Jewish Agency - pluralistic/liberal forces are leading major reform efforts aimed at streamlining these institutions, removing any stench of mismanagement or corruption, and putting them to work at this pivotal moment for the Jewish people. In partnership with the Israeli government, one shared priority could be finding ways to further expand the Shlichut (Israeli emissaries) mechanism - because genuine, heartfelt, apolitical(!) interactions between Diaspora Jews and Israelis are not only important for Diaspora communities. Shlichim return with a broader understanding of the Jewish world and that there is more than one way to be Jewish - and this advances values like pluralism in Israeli society.

And fostering such encounters between Diaspora Jews and Israelis is so important because above all else, and particularly in the practical implementation of the steps mentioned above, a new Israeli government must embrace the notion of Jewish peoplehood as part of Zionism. Accept and respect the inherent value of Diaspora Jewish communities not just as sources of funding, potential immigrants and political support, but as a fundamental, immovable part of our one people. This isn’t just a moral position: it’s a practical one. As I mentioned above, after October 7th, Jews around the world rallied to the side of Israelis. Not to a government of Israel the majority scorned. Not to Israeli policy. To Israelis as fellow Jews. As people who are half of their global family. That connection cut across political lines and brought Jews of all stripes closer to their Judaism and to one another.

When we start there - with Peoplehood - we don’t just create a framework of unity that overcomes divides in moments of crisis. We create the basis for genuine dialogue and ultimately: problem-solving. We create a connection for Jews and Israelis to Judaism, Zionism and one another deep enough not to merely push aside disagreements and challenges or overcome divides in moments of genuine crisis, but one strong enough that people feel an obligation to engage and make change. Even at the moments when and on the topics where we are most critical of Israel’s behavior, a sense of Peoplehood rooted in mutual responsibility and shared fate drives Jews towards engagement, empowerment and action rather than disenchantment.

As has been discussed by some thinkers, one of the foremost shortcomings of education for young Jews over the decades has been an approach to Jewish and Israel education that failed to instill a sense of Peoplehood as in itself a fundamental Jewish value. That being a part of our people is in itself an inviolable principle that can’t be cast aside when in the eyes of the beholder, it conflicts with other values they hold. In simpler terms in the Canadian context, Canadian Jews cannot actually disassociate themselves from having a special, familial relationship with Israeli Jews because of their perception of Israeli policy being in conflict with their values. The proliferation of Jewish frameworks essentially doing precisely that may in part stem from an approach to Israel education that has at times, prioritized teaching facts for use in advocacy rather than critical engagement with Zionism as a political movement that’s always contained diverse opinions. The end result often appears to be that many younger Jews have a great universalist passion for Tikkun Olam as a Jewish value applied stridently to non-Jewish causes, often jumping past a more particularist application of those same values when it is their own Israeli brothers and sisters in need.

We need to foster a sense of Peoplehood that makes even a young Jew critical of Israel say, “I think that’s wrong, but it’s mine, and it’s my duty to engage with it as a part of my Jewish identity.” The feeling that makes a young Jew in Montreal wake up and, when reading a difficult headline from Israel, they feel it in their bones. Because it’s theirs. A new Israeli government should absolutely maintain certain red lines - Israel’s right to exist in security is non-negotiable - but sometimes how it chooses to draw and implement those red lines in word and in deed can have a profound impact on shaping a notion of Jewish Peoplehood that ultimately, in the long term, serves Israel’s interests.

And that is the reason I remain optimistic today. Even after three of the darkest years in Israel and Zionism’s history. Not only because of what we have seen the people of Israel do in these last few years. Save our democracy. Save the country. Save our hostages. But also, because of what our brothers and sisters in Jewish communities around the world have done. Standing by Israelis’ side. Standing up to antisemitism. Zionism as a political movement was, by definition, born in the Diaspora. I am optimistic because I believe that, with new leadership, Israel can build on these lights in the darkness, harness the power of Jewish Peoplehood, and actually bring about the Tikkun - the repair - that this country and our Jewish world needs in the aftermath of our worst collective disaster since the Holocaust.

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