The penultimate stop on my latest spring North American tour was Rochester, New York. Before speaking to the community about internalized anti-Jewishness, I had lunch with some of the Federation staff. There I met a young Israeli, Ron Kronberger Netzer. He was spending a year in the US on the ShinShinim program, a Jewish Agency project where young Israelis spend a year in the Diaspora working with Jewish communities ahead of their national service. After lunch we began a discussion about Jewish Pride and identity. In a discussion about Diasporic Jewish identity, Ron pushed back on me. He could not understand why I – a British Jew – would feel more Jewish than British. “Wouldn’t declaring allegiance to another country instead of the country of your birth anger non-Jewish British people? he asked.
What ensued was a two-hour conversation about the Jewish Diasporic and the Israeli identity and experience. This conversation was insightful and important. As a result, I realized that Israelis and Jews in the Diaspora – despite the strength of our connection – require important dialogues to better understand each other’s experiences. This is crucial not just for Jewish unity, but to understand our respective relationship with and roles in protecting and participating in the State of Israel.
It is also the case that prior to these conversations, each community must first engage in their own discussions to better understand their own experience. Jews in the Diaspora, for example, must address the tension which exists regarding our identities, before we share them with our Israeli counterparts. While we have an inherent connection to our indigenous land, Diasporic Jews were not born in the Jewish state. And while we were born and lived in other countries with their own distinct cultures, we are still – at our roots – an indigenous people connected to another land. This presents specific challenges in understanding our identities and how we relate to both Israel and the country of our birth / citizenship (not least because of the immense amount of Jew-hate that exists in the Diaspora).
As Ijeoma Umebinyuo, the famed Nigerian poet wrote in Diaspora Blues:
“so, here you are too foreign for home, too foreign for here. never enough for both.”
As the original diasporic community, this is also the experience of Diasporic Jews. It is one that makes integration into the Diaspora difficult. Yet at the same time, not being born and raised within Israeli culture, it can make integration into Israeli society difficult. There is no easy solution to this issue, but it must be a point of conversation in the Diaspora, and one we have to then share with our Israeli brothers and sisters so they can better understand our experience.
The differences in realities
WE MUST remember, they are not burdened by this tension. They are Jews living in the Jewish State. And this tension is something Israelis must understand about the Jewish experience in the Diaspora. What is it like to feel rooted in one land, but to have been raised in another? And one that does not necessarily treat you equally. What it is like to feel this tension, this pull between two places? And not least, the trauma and betrayal one feels when faced with rising hate from a society you call one of your homes. And ultimately, how this impacts not just our decisions, but our identities and self-esteem. Identity is layered and deeply complicated, and not always logical or rational, but it is real and impactful.
Ron also questioned, legitimately so, why Jews in the Diaspora would stay in the Diaspora amidst rising hate. He couldn’t understand it, and I think – although I continue to live in London – it is a fair question, and one with which we must engage. Jews will stay in their homes in the Diaspora for a multitude of complex reasons, which is our right. That complexity must be understood and not diminished. It is very easy to say “just make aliyah if things are bad in the Diaspora.” But as Jews are experiencing all over the Diaspora, the decision to leave is not as obvious as one might think.
During my tour in North America, I had conversations with Jews about whether they wanted to stay or not and the resounding answer was “we don’t know.” It is hard to leave. It is hard to leave your home, your assets, your friends, your community. It is hard to leave familiarity. And when to leave is not always obvious. That is a realization many Jews in the Diaspora are currently experiencing.
As Ron suggested, we have to be honest with ourselves about these reasons and then recognize that it does put us in a situation whereby we are a much maligned minority living among an often hostile majority. That does not mean we should accept Jew-hate. That is not the case at all. Rather, we have to navigate our lives in the Diaspora with eyes wide open, understanding the terms of engagement while also ensuring that we are deeply proud of our Jewishness.
However, as I reminded Ron, Israelis need also be empathetic to this experience. While we can make aliyah, of course, it is not our fault that we were born in the Diaspora, nor that we are faced with the choice to leave it. It is how our history unfolded. And still, many of us built meaningful lives there, as is totally natural.
LIKE JEWS who lived in Alexandria, or who chose not to return to Judah from Babylon, we have a right to be able to live where we want while also maintaining our connection to Israel. These are all deeply complicated issues and we must have empathy for each other’s positions so we can better understand our actions and decisions. It would be nice and neat if life was black and white, but it isn’t and we must face that.
We also discussed the Jewish fight against Jew-hate, and the different roles Israelis and Diasporic Jews occupy. Jews in the Diaspora are fighting a war of ideas in our homes. This is a real war in which the other side is trying to make their societies Judenfrei (Nazi term for without Jews). Jews in the Diaspora are fighting back in a myriad of important ways to reclaim our dignity, humanity and to keep Jew-hate at bay.
We are also – as was the case immediately following October 7 – contributing to Israel’s war against Hamas. Jews from all over the Diaspora sent hundreds of millions of dollars, as well as resources to Israel to aid her war effort; our war effort. Brave young Jews travel – including my own brother – traveled to Israel to join the IDF.
However, the sacrifice of fighting in the IDF for Israel and the Jewish people is, generally speaking, not a Diasporic experience. And it is one we must recognize and not take for granted. That young Israeli men and women risk, and some tragically sacrifice, their lives to defend our state (and it is our state, even if we are in the Diaspora) is something we must always acknowledge. Most of our sacrifices are not necessarily equal. And that is ok, but we must not mistake that they are.
The relationship between Jews in the Diaspora and Israelis can be – like all familial relations – complicated. But the important thing is that we work to understand one another. That we meet each other where we are. We must recognize there are fundamental differences in our experiences that might impact our ability to appreciate the nuances of our identities and how we approach the world. This is natural.
To foster Jewish unity, we must better understand each other. There is great diversity in the Jewish experience. But we can only come together as Am Echad, Lev Echad, One People, One Heart if we truly are able to appreciate the distinctiveness of each of our experiences and how it shapes us. Only then can we truly be one people, wherever we live in the world.
Am Yisrael Chai.
The writer is founder of the modern Jewish Pride movement, an educator, and the author of Jewish Pride: Rebuilding a People. His new book is Reclaiming Our Story: The Pursuit of Jewish Pride.