As an American Rabbi, Israel’s Actions Don’t Make Me Feel Any Safer

In November of 2023, I was helping to run one of the biggest Reform Jewish after school programs in the U.S. Every day, the parents and much of the administration were abuzz with fear of the ongoing pro-Palestine protests that surrounded us in Brooklyn, N.Y. Would they target us? Did we need to amp up our security? Would they make our community unsafe? Should we even be gathering at the synagogue during protests? Should we cancel religious school to keep the children safe? 

I decided to go to one of these protests in Bay Ridge, a very outspoken pro-Palestinian neighborhood in Brooklyn. Having heard many rumors about the protests being hostile to Jews, I wanted to see for myself. But when I got there, I was surprised to see elders wearing Stars of David and kids holding signs with other Jewish symbols. I, myself, was wearing a yarmulke. 

About halfway through the march, a Palestinian man approached me and said, “Thank you so much for being here. It’s always heartwarming to see our Jewish siblings join us.” He shared his own experience of exile from Palestine, and his family’s ongoing troubles. I had come braced to be afraid, but in reality, I immediately became a part of the community. What I felt was safety.

This year, the Jewish High Holidays fall from October 2nd to 12th, bracketing the anniversary of October 7th. Today, on the eve of Rosh Hashanah, and for the rest of the Holy Days, Jews worldwide will reflect on the year that has passed in order to improve in the year to come. As we meditate on this past year, it’s important that we look closely at the ways we have reacted with fear instead of understanding and compassion—and assess the accuracy of these perceptions so that we can, in the coming year, improve not only our responses, but work towards healing a very broken world.

Since October 7, 2023, it has become a major talking point in world politics to claim that my safety as an American Jew depends on the might of a country thousands of miles away. Back in September of 2023, U.S. President Joe Biden said: “I think without Israel, there’s not a Jew in the world who’s secure.” In March, Rabbi Ammiel Hirsch of Stephen Wise Free Synagogue in Manhattan, stoked utterly unfounded fears that, in fact, Hamas is not only waging this war in Israel, but plans to spread their violence to America: “[I]f they defeat Israel, they will come for us in Europe and America.”

This idea that American Jews are unsafe is often justified by conflating the American Jewish community with Israel and blurring the line between anti-Zionism and antisemitism. This trend stems from adopting the International Holocaust Remembrance Allaince’s (IHRA) working definition of antisemitism, which includes within it some sweeping references to criticisms of Israel as antisemitic, like “Denying the Jewish people their right to self-determination, e.g., by claiming that the existence of a State of Israel is a racist endeavor. [Or] Applying double standards by requiring of it a behavior not expected or demanded of any other democratic nation," therefore facilitating those who wish to fully equate criticism of Israel with antisemitism.The Anti-Defamation League's (ADL) recent, oft cited report on antisemitism is an excellent example of this blurring. However, a thorough examination by media outlet Jewish Currents revealed that the ADL’s work “shows how the conflation of anti-Zionism and antisemitism skews the data—ultimately serving as a reminder of the need for serious statistical analysis done by an organization not beholden to Israel advocacy.”

Rather than accurately assessing American Jewish safety through sensitive analysis, the ADL’s report combines a variety of accounts and events, framing political protests against Israel as equally dangerous to actively antisemitic attacks, manufacturing a narrative of Jewish persecution which stokes fear throughout the Jewish community.

Read More: As the Families of Murdered Hostages, Our Message to People in Power Is Simple: Act

Conflating criticism of Zionism with antisemitism leads to understanding the ongoing violence against the Palestinian people as an unfortunate side effect of protecting global Jewry. However, the idea that Israel’s war in Gaza and now Lebanon is entirely about Jewish safety is not actually borne out of words by Israeli leaders themselves. Rather than proclaim that the primary goal of the offensive on Gaza was to retrieve the hostages, Israeli leaders have been explicit that their goals prioritize vengeance and collective punishment. During a news conference on October 12th, the President of Israel, Isaac Herzog, proclaimed, “The entire nation is responsible. This rhetoric of 'unaware, uninvolved civilians,' is not true.” This was in line with statements made by Israeli Defense Minister Yoav Gallant, who asserted during his announcement of a total siege of Gaza on October 9th that “We are fighting human animals, and we are acting accordingly…We will eliminate everything—they will regret it.”

As we come towards a full year of Israel’s offensive on Gaza, escalations in the West Bank, the opening of a front in Lebanon, and a direct attack on Israel by Iran with fears of further escalation in the region, I actually feel less secure as an American rabbi than I ever have before. But not because of protestors. Jewish institutional leaders and American politicians fueling fears of antisemitism that isolate Jews is what feels dangerous.

The times I have felt safest and most secure in my Jewishness has, to the contrary of the mainstream narrative, been in shared spaces where Jews and non-Jews are working together towards justice. Whether during protests against the ongoing attacks on Gaza, or in the wake of George Floyd’s murder; interfaith discussion groups, or shared iftar celebrations; reaching out and building community across differences has always made me feel both more secure in my Jewishness, and more secure in my community. 

Rather than turning inwards to find comfort and security, I have, instead, always found it by turning outwards.

Amidst all this fear-mongering we should remember Jewish tradition guides us to actively seek peace. In fact, the most Jewish response to this moment, and the one most likely to protect Palestinian, Lebanese, and Israeli lives, is to demand a permanent ceasefire, and an arms embargo until Israel commits to ending its siege on Gaza, expansion into the West Bank, and escalation in Lebanon.

As a 2,000 year old Jewish holy text teaches: “Beloved is peace, as God announces to Jerusalem: they will only be saved by means of peace.”