One of the most fundamental principles of Zionism is its extension outside of Israel’s borders. Some of the greatest Zionists, including Moses, Herzl, and Brandies, never lived in Israel.
Today, many of Israel’s greatest supporters live around the world. A constant question Zionists struggle with is the nature of these Zionists’ relationship with the State of Israel.
Picture a synagogue in Texas. Israeli flags hang quietly inside and out. A modest lawn sign simply reads, “We Stand with Israel.” The members who gather there for prayer or community events are American citizens.
They hold no seats in Israel’s Knesset and issue no directives to its government. Yet many critics of Israel treat these public expressions of support as proof of collective responsibility.
The question of whether American Jewish support of Israel creates collective responsibility for Israel’s policies cuts to the heart of American Zionist identity. When American Jews openly stand with the Jewish state, does that make them legitimate targets for blame over Israel’s policies?
Peter Beinart, a former Israel supporter turned harsh Israel critic, has put the matter plainly. Americans bear no responsibility for the actions of foreign governments simply because they share a religion, ethnicity, or ancestry with that state.
By this standard, holding American Jews accountable for Israeli decisions mirrors the injustice of blaming Chinese Americans for Beijing’s conduct or Muslim Americans for the crimes of terrorist groups.
History offers stark warnings of collective responsibility for foreign countries’ policies. The American government’s internment of Japanese Americans after Pearl Harbor punished individuals for a distant government’s aggression.
Beinart extends his logic further, suggesting synagogues remove “We Stand with Israel” signs to avoid feeding the very conflation he condemns. The difficulty with his suggestion is that the vast majority of American Jews stand with Israel.
American Jewish support: identity and reality
Surveys consistently show American Jews’ strong attachment to Israel. A clear majority view US support for Israel as important, and many report feeling even more connected after recent events.
Open solidarity between American Jews and Israel reflects a deep, mainstream Zionist sentiment rooted in history and identity.
For the first half-century of the Zionist movement, many American Jews refused to support Zionism and its goals precisely out of fear that visible support would spark accusations of dual loyalty.
Jewish leaders in the late 19th and early 20th centuries worried that Jewish nationalism would undermine their hard-earned place in American society.
The Holocaust changed that calculus. Support for a Jewish state surged as a moral necessity. Louis Brandeis, the distinguished Supreme Court justice and passionate Zionist, addressed the anxiety head-on.
“Let no American imagine that Zionism is inconsistent with patriotism,” he declared. Multiple loyalties trouble only when they conflict with other loyalties. A person can be a better American precisely by remaining loyal to his people and heritage.
Brandeis saw no contradiction. The Jewish spirit, shaped by justice and brotherhood, aligned naturally with America’s highest ideals. To be a Zionist, Brandeis argued, was not to divide allegiance but to enrich it.
Critics today who equate a synagogue flag with disloyalty are recycling the very charge that Brandeis and his generation proved wrong.
Two claims against Israel arise often among American opponents of the Jewish state. The first insists that because American Jews donate to Israeli causes, charities, and hospitals, they share ownership of every policy.
Yet charitable giving and private investment do not confer control over a sovereign government’s decisions. There are no American Jews that sit in Israel’s cabinet or direct its security policy.
Treating donors as policymakers revives an old and discredited pattern of holding Jews collectively responsible for distant actions.
The second argument collapses support for Israel’s existence into blanket endorsement of every government choice. One can affirm the Jewish people’s right to a secure homeland, the refuge born from centuries of persecution, and still disagree with specific policies.
Loving a country does not require cheering every decision its leaders make, any more than loyal Americans must applaud every American policy. A lawn sign expresses solidarity with a people’s right to self-determination; it does not transform congregants into proxies for any particular administration in Jerusalem.
The difference between American Jews and other Diaspora groups lies in their explicit, unapologetic declaration of connection to Israel. In a free country, that openness is protected.
It does not strip individuals of their right to be judged on their own actions rather than those of a foreign state. It does not equate with dual loyalty. One may debate Israeli policies vigorously in the public square – that is legitimate discourse.
But assigning personal blame to American Jews for decisions made in Jerusalem crosses a different line. Support for Israel’s existence does not equate to ownership of its policies, nor does it turn every Jewish communal space into an extension of the Israeli government.
Many American Jews have chosen to embrace both their American citizenship and their bond with the Jewish state. That choice deserves the same respect granted to other ethnic or cultural solidarities.
The irony of this topic runs deep. The very fears that once restrained American Jews from embracing Zionism have resurfaced now that they have done so openly.
A community that found the courage to stand publicly with its ancestral home should not face collective liability for that stance. Fair criticism of Israeli policy is one thing.
Treating American Jews as its moral stand-ins is discriminatory hate. It was wrong to do so before the Holocaust, and it remains wrong today.
The writer is a Zionist educator at institutions around the world and recently published a new book, Zionism Today.