US Ambassador Mike Huckabee could not make it, so they asked me to speak. I told the room I was the decaf version of an ambassador – almost the same taste, fewer side effects. It got a laugh, which was helpful, because the next sentences were not meant to be easy.
I spoke at the American Zionist Movement lunch ahead of the opening of the 39th World Zionist Congress convention in Jerusalem.
If you have ever tried to explain this congress to a friend, you know it can feel like trying to translate an ancient dialect while riding a scooter; parties within movements within slates, committees inside committees, and a voting system that can reward patience more than volume.
I spent years reporting on this machinery and a stretch working inside it. I have learned two things: People are more powerful than they think, and habit is more entrenched than they admit.
This week cannot be business as usual. Since Hamas’s October 7 massacre, Israel and the Jewish world are not the same. The conversations in our homes changed. The way we look at each other across denominations and continents has changed. The security realities have changed.
Suppose delegates leave Jerusalem and vote exactly as they did five years ago. In that case, the movement will have missed a historic opening to rebuild trust, update priorities, and create institutions that match the world we actually live in.
American delegates make up roughly a third of the World Zionist Congress. That is not a footnote. When Americans vote their conscience, ask hard questions, and refuse to behave like a row of synchronized placards, outcomes shift.
Many resolutions here are statements. Statements matter because they set tone and direction. But what changes reality are the choices that create frameworks and programs, with names, budgets, and timelines that continue after the plenary lights go off.
A simple rule for the week: More question marks, fewer exclamation points. Israelis know how to argue. American Jews do too. The trick is to replace the performance of certainty with the work of curiosity.
I meet people who speak only in exclamation marks, as if the last two years taught them nothing new. That posture is comforting and useless. Better to trade one applause line for one honest question. What have I changed my mind about since October 7? What am I willing to try that I once dismissed? Who is not at my table who should be, and what am I prepared to give up to make space for them?
The Zionist tent should look like the people it serves. Reform and ultra-Orthodox; Israeli Americans and Russian-speaking Jews; women at the mic as a norm, not a novelty; young leaders who carry hybrid identities and bilingual lives; communities that pray differently and argue passionately, yet remain bound to the same story.
If our coalitions do not resemble our communities, we are only talking to ourselves. That is comfortable. It is also a strategic error.
Practical steps to be taken
There is practical, not abstract, work to be done.
First, build frameworks for shared responsibility. Israelis have been arguing about military service for years. The Diaspora can help develop programs that expand meaningful service tracks in Israel and connect them to global Jewish service – not as a slogan, but as a funded pipeline that honors Torah study and meets absolute security and social needs.
Second, widen the leadership ladder. The same names cannot rotate through the same roles forever. Create mentorship and training programs that bring in women who have been sidelined, young professionals who live between New York and Tel Aviv, and activists whose first language is neither English nor Hebrew. Pay stipends, set term limits, and publish the targets so the public can measure progress.
Third, invest in education that understands this generation. The audience is online, attention is short, the information war is not tomorrow; it is the current front.
Fund projects that tell our story with clarity and courage on the platforms where young people actually live. Good curricula matter, but issues of distribution matter more – partner with creators who know how to reach millions without asking permission from a committee.
Fourth, stop rewarding performative outrage. The metric is not the number of viral clips a speech generates. It is how many families, students, soldiers, and communities see a difference because of what we passed and funded. History will not grade our speeches – it will grade our follow-throughs.
There is also a cultural shift the movement needs to make. For years, the congress has been a mirror that lags behind social reality. By the time a new constituency shows up in force here, it has already transformed life in the synagogues, schools, and campuses outside. That delay is costly.
The movement should become a radar, not a mirror. Bring in the Israeli American community as builders, not guests. Center the experience of Russian-speaking Jews who often bridge worlds. Make room for new religious voices that do not fit in the old factions. If it feels slightly uncomfortable – that is a sign of growth.
I am aware of the temptation to treat a week like this as a reunion where everyone returns to familiar corners. There are friendships to honor and old debates to replay. I enjoy the nostalgia as much as anyone. I am also a reporter by training, which means I count. And when I measure the cost of another year of drift, nostalgia is on the losing side.
So here is my ask to the delegates this week: Vote your conscience; refuse to be a pair of raised hands on command; ask before you declare; invite someone who disagrees with you to speak, then really listen; put your name on one initiative that outlasts this gathering.
You do not need to change the whole movement. Change one thing you can measure, and then report back.
I remain optimistic. The pain of the past two years did not erase our capacity to build – it focused it. The congress can choose to be a turning point, not in slogans, but in outcomes.
So, more question marks, fewer exclamation marks; more bridges than tweets; more institutions than clips. If we do that, we will honor the losses with a purpose set for the next decade.
I cannot promise to be as exciting as a visiting ambassador. I can promise to show up with questions, with a bias for listening, and with a strong cup of coffee. If the congress leaves Jerusalem with those three, we will have done more than gather – we will have begun to rebuild.