Why Diaspora Dissent is an Asset
The Jewish Week
Steven Bayme
November 8, 2011
For the past eight summers, I have been privileged to teach at
Brandeis University's Summer Institute for Israel Studies, working
with college faculty members planning to introduce courses on Modern
Israel at their respective campuses. Invariably, at my session on
Israel's relationship to world Jewry, the question arises why American
Jewish organizational leadership appears to march in lockstep with
Israeli governmental policy.
This observation, critiqued sharply by Peter Beinart in a widely cited
essay last year, resonates particularly among some younger American
Jews. Some weeks back I participated in `The Conversation,' a
remarkable set of dialogues convened by The Jewish Week. At the final
session, several younger Jewish activists charged that the Jewish
community was run by highly educated, middle-aged, white Jewish males,
who parrot the pro-Israel line and in turn are well compensated for
doing so. By contrast, younger persons who wish to dissent feel
intimidated by this Jewish `meritocracy.'
To be sure, I confessed some puzzlement at these charges. Over three
decades at the American Jewish Committee, a centerpiece of the
American Jewish establishment, I often have found myself in a distinct
minority among staff colleagues on a range of domestic and foreign
policy issues. Conversely, both at The Jewish Week `Conversation' and
at AJC, I frequently agreed with junior colleagues and disagreed with
more senior ones. The reverse, of course, has also been true. To
suggest that a generation gap stifles dissent is to both
over-generalize about opinion within generations and to unfairly
characterize the nature of cross-generational dialogue.
In fact, with respect to Israel, the case for diaspora dissent is
quite compelling. The right to dissent emanates naturally from our
concept of Jewish peoplehood. If we believe in Israel as a state of
the Jewish people, we ought to encourage greater involvement by world
Jewry in Israeli affairs. Especially at a time when we are concerned
about `distancing' from Israel, expressions of dissent may well
enhance Israel-diaspora ties. Some of Israel's most vocal critics are
to be found among the ranks of card-carrying Zionists. Paradoxically,
this includes both those who oppose construction of settlements and
advocate withdrawal to the 1967 lines, and those who dissent from
Israeli governmental policy favoring a two-state solution on the
grounds that surrender of any portion of Jewish historical homeland
constitutes political folly or theological sin. Both groupings share
an intense commitment to, rather than detachment from, the Jewish
state.
The critical test, then, is not the right to dissent, but rather the
wisdom of specific dissent. Peoplehood implies both membership in the
Jewish enterprise and the responsibility to act in ways that advance
the collective interests of the Jewish people. The latter question of
political wisdom transcends the rights of individuals to dissent and,
in effect, challenges them to consider whether such dissent is not
only intellectually compelling but also politically advisable.
In this context, those who dissent need to weigh the distinctive role
of American Jewry as an organized polity. Since 1948, American Jewry's
core message has been advocacy of American support for Israel as a
fellow democracy and strategic ally. The objective of American Jewish
pro-Israel advocacy, therefore, for decades has been to minimize the
distance in policy between Washington and Jerusalem. Through its
presence and influence in Washington, American Jewry has played a
unique role in strengthening the special relationship between the U.S.
and Israel - a relationship that has been sustained through both
Democratic and Republican administrations, and whether the government
in Jerusalem has been led by Labor, Likud or Kadima. Public criticism
of Israeli policy, expressed before influential political bodies,
e.g., the U.S. Congress, may weaken Jewish influence and undermine the
special U.S.-Israel relationship that has been so crucial to Israel's
security and survival. For leaders of Jewish institutions, the
question is often not what one makes of a particular Israeli policy so
much as what is the wisest political stance to adopt in the complex
context of U.S.-Israel relations.
Moreover, American Jews must recognize that they are not Israelis.
Security questions affect the lives of Israelis, not American Jews. By
contrast, however, issues internal to the Jewish people possess only
marginal implications for Israeli security but affect enormously the
meaning of Jewish peoplehood and the depth of pro-Israel support
within the American Jewish polity. Questions of personal status - who
is a Jew, conversion to Judaism, etc. - possess no geographical
borders, and diaspora Jewish voices are both critical and necessary to
that debate.
For these reasons, diaspora dissent is healthy but must be expressed
wisely. Those who dissent should expect vigorous debate and counter
argument, which in fact testifies to how seriously the dissent is
considered. A community that is able both to include dissenting
opinion within it and engage in civil disagreement signals the
hallmarks of political maturity and passionate concern for its
collective welfare. An American-Jewish community that both allows room
for dissent and debate and maintains its role as key sustaining factor
in the special relationship between America and Israel will give real
meaning to the oft-beleaguered concept of Jewish peoplehood.
Last, the cause of Jewish unity should not be translated as conformity
of opinion. Recently we read the Torah portion of the Tower of Babel.
A 19th-century commentator, Rabbi Naftali Zvi Berlin (the Netziv),
noted that the failure of this generation consisted in its `unified
opinion' (Genesis 11:1). Such conformity of thought both inhibits
creative energies and can manifest itself as political tyranny.
Democracies protect the right of dissent as a corrective to and check
upon prevailing conventional wisdom. Similarly, the Talmud goes to
great lengths to preserve and report minority opinion but also spares
no efforts to rebut such opinion when deemed deficient in wisdom. Put
another way, dissent is legitimate but requires good `sechel' and
common sense.
Steven Bayme serves as director of the Koppelman Institute on American
Jewish-Israeli Relations at the American Jewish Committee.
http://www.ajc.org/site/apps/nlnet/content2.aspx?c=ijITI2PHKoG&b=6161209&ct=11510067
From: A. Papazian
The Jewish Week
Steven Bayme
November 8, 2011
For the past eight summers, I have been privileged to teach at
Brandeis University's Summer Institute for Israel Studies, working
with college faculty members planning to introduce courses on Modern
Israel at their respective campuses. Invariably, at my session on
Israel's relationship to world Jewry, the question arises why American
Jewish organizational leadership appears to march in lockstep with
Israeli governmental policy.
This observation, critiqued sharply by Peter Beinart in a widely cited
essay last year, resonates particularly among some younger American
Jews. Some weeks back I participated in `The Conversation,' a
remarkable set of dialogues convened by The Jewish Week. At the final
session, several younger Jewish activists charged that the Jewish
community was run by highly educated, middle-aged, white Jewish males,
who parrot the pro-Israel line and in turn are well compensated for
doing so. By contrast, younger persons who wish to dissent feel
intimidated by this Jewish `meritocracy.'
To be sure, I confessed some puzzlement at these charges. Over three
decades at the American Jewish Committee, a centerpiece of the
American Jewish establishment, I often have found myself in a distinct
minority among staff colleagues on a range of domestic and foreign
policy issues. Conversely, both at The Jewish Week `Conversation' and
at AJC, I frequently agreed with junior colleagues and disagreed with
more senior ones. The reverse, of course, has also been true. To
suggest that a generation gap stifles dissent is to both
over-generalize about opinion within generations and to unfairly
characterize the nature of cross-generational dialogue.
In fact, with respect to Israel, the case for diaspora dissent is
quite compelling. The right to dissent emanates naturally from our
concept of Jewish peoplehood. If we believe in Israel as a state of
the Jewish people, we ought to encourage greater involvement by world
Jewry in Israeli affairs. Especially at a time when we are concerned
about `distancing' from Israel, expressions of dissent may well
enhance Israel-diaspora ties. Some of Israel's most vocal critics are
to be found among the ranks of card-carrying Zionists. Paradoxically,
this includes both those who oppose construction of settlements and
advocate withdrawal to the 1967 lines, and those who dissent from
Israeli governmental policy favoring a two-state solution on the
grounds that surrender of any portion of Jewish historical homeland
constitutes political folly or theological sin. Both groupings share
an intense commitment to, rather than detachment from, the Jewish
state.
The critical test, then, is not the right to dissent, but rather the
wisdom of specific dissent. Peoplehood implies both membership in the
Jewish enterprise and the responsibility to act in ways that advance
the collective interests of the Jewish people. The latter question of
political wisdom transcends the rights of individuals to dissent and,
in effect, challenges them to consider whether such dissent is not
only intellectually compelling but also politically advisable.
In this context, those who dissent need to weigh the distinctive role
of American Jewry as an organized polity. Since 1948, American Jewry's
core message has been advocacy of American support for Israel as a
fellow democracy and strategic ally. The objective of American Jewish
pro-Israel advocacy, therefore, for decades has been to minimize the
distance in policy between Washington and Jerusalem. Through its
presence and influence in Washington, American Jewry has played a
unique role in strengthening the special relationship between the U.S.
and Israel - a relationship that has been sustained through both
Democratic and Republican administrations, and whether the government
in Jerusalem has been led by Labor, Likud or Kadima. Public criticism
of Israeli policy, expressed before influential political bodies,
e.g., the U.S. Congress, may weaken Jewish influence and undermine the
special U.S.-Israel relationship that has been so crucial to Israel's
security and survival. For leaders of Jewish institutions, the
question is often not what one makes of a particular Israeli policy so
much as what is the wisest political stance to adopt in the complex
context of U.S.-Israel relations.
Moreover, American Jews must recognize that they are not Israelis.
Security questions affect the lives of Israelis, not American Jews. By
contrast, however, issues internal to the Jewish people possess only
marginal implications for Israeli security but affect enormously the
meaning of Jewish peoplehood and the depth of pro-Israel support
within the American Jewish polity. Questions of personal status - who
is a Jew, conversion to Judaism, etc. - possess no geographical
borders, and diaspora Jewish voices are both critical and necessary to
that debate.
For these reasons, diaspora dissent is healthy but must be expressed
wisely. Those who dissent should expect vigorous debate and counter
argument, which in fact testifies to how seriously the dissent is
considered. A community that is able both to include dissenting
opinion within it and engage in civil disagreement signals the
hallmarks of political maturity and passionate concern for its
collective welfare. An American-Jewish community that both allows room
for dissent and debate and maintains its role as key sustaining factor
in the special relationship between America and Israel will give real
meaning to the oft-beleaguered concept of Jewish peoplehood.
Last, the cause of Jewish unity should not be translated as conformity
of opinion. Recently we read the Torah portion of the Tower of Babel.
A 19th-century commentator, Rabbi Naftali Zvi Berlin (the Netziv),
noted that the failure of this generation consisted in its `unified
opinion' (Genesis 11:1). Such conformity of thought both inhibits
creative energies and can manifest itself as political tyranny.
Democracies protect the right of dissent as a corrective to and check
upon prevailing conventional wisdom. Similarly, the Talmud goes to
great lengths to preserve and report minority opinion but also spares
no efforts to rebut such opinion when deemed deficient in wisdom. Put
another way, dissent is legitimate but requires good `sechel' and
common sense.
Steven Bayme serves as director of the Koppelman Institute on American
Jewish-Israeli Relations at the American Jewish Committee.
http://www.ajc.org/site/apps/nlnet/content2.aspx?c=ijITI2PHKoG&b=6161209&ct=11510067
From: A. Papazian