Nice Place to Visit, Wouldn’t Want to Live There
American Jews and the Jewish state in the post-war period.
By
Edward Shapiro
Israel was founded as
a site for the ingathering of Jewish exiles. But what about those “exiles” who
did not want to “gather,” at least not permanently? American Jewry dealt with
this complicated aspect of Zionism in the post-war period by redefining their
relationship to the Jewish state. The following article recounts the
development of American Jewish responses to Israel in the post-war period. It
is reprinted from A Time for Healing: American Jewry Since World War II
with permission from The Johns Hopkins University Press.
Enthusiasm for the idea and reality of a Jewish
state was widespread among American Jews after 1945. This had not always been
the case. Prior to the 1930s, Zionism had little appeal for American Jews. They
believed that they were already living in what Zionism hoped to create‑-a
nation in which there would be no restrictions on the social, economic, and
intellectual advancement of Jews. When American Jews referred to “the golden
land,” they meant the United States, not Palestine. "The United States is
our Palestine," Rabbi David Philipson asserted in 1895, "and Washington
our Jerusalem." Evidently European Jews agreed. Between 1880 and 1920, for
every one who migrated to the Promised land, over forty crossed the Atlantic to
the land of promise. American Jewish leaders feared that Zionism would lead to
legitimate suspicions among Gentiles regarding the loyalty of America's Jews.
The destruction of European Jewry combined with the refusal
of the Western nations, particularly the United States, to do anything
meaningful to rescue the remnants, convinced American Jews that a Jewish state
was necessary. The Zionism of American Jews was, however, sui generis. It did not encompass the most important element in
Zionist ideology‑-aliyah [in
Hebrew, literally “going up”--immigration to Israel]. Despite the claim of
Israeli Zionists that every Jew was obligated to relocate to Israel, less than
100,000 American Jews settled in Israel, and most of those who did eventually
returned to the United States. More American Jews chose to be buried in Israel
than to live there.
Israeli spokesmen viewed this refusal of American Jews to
leave the fleshpots of the West with a mingling of contempt and fear. It not
only deprived the Jewish state of the large Jewish population that would
guarantee its existence, but it also denied the fundamental tenet of Zionist
ideology regarding the abnormality of Diaspora life once a Jewish state had
been established. The result was, as zionist Nahum Goldmann stated in 1954,
that Israel was the only state in the world where 90% percent of its people
lived outside its borders.
American Jews did not believe that their reluctance to
exchange Brooklyn and Los Angeles for Tel Aviv meant that they were less than
wholehearted champions of the Zionist undertaking. Reinterpreting Zionism, they
preferred to view Israel as a refuge for persecuted Jews and not as a national
homeland for all Jews.
There was much truth to the joke that defined American
Zionism as a movement in which one person gave money to a second person to send
to a third person to Israel. As Daniel Elazar noted, fund-raising for Israel
had become "the most visible Jewish communal activity.” This was
especially noticeable after 1967. Even
Jews who did not belong to synagogues or Jewish organizations contributed to
the United Jewish Appeal. "I am because I give" became the
existential definition of American Jewishness, and status within American Jewry
depended to a large extent on one's annual gift to the United Jewish Appeal
campaign.
For American Jews, Zionism was a philanthropy, the most
important of philanthropies, and one to which they were tied largely by contributions
and by the purchase of bonds issued by the Israeli government. Jews voted with
their wallets, if not with their feet, for Israel. Fund-raising became the most
important barometer of the relationship between American Jews and the state of
Israel. During his first term as Israel's prime minister, Ben‑Gurion made
only one visit outside of Israel, and that was in May 1951to the United States to launch the first Israel bonds campaign.
Fund‑raising in America for Israel increased during
periods of crisis in the Middle East and subsided during times of quiet.
Contributions to the United Jewish Appeal, the major fund‑raising
campaign for Israel, rose dramatically in the years prior to the establishment
of Israel and in 1956, the year of
the Sinai war between Israel and Egypt. Previous fundraising efforts were
dwarfed, however, by the contributions of Jews in 1967to help pay for the Six‑Day War.
1967 was a watershed year in the history of American Jewry.
While Jews had supported Israel from its founding in 1948, the depth of their emotional involvement with the Jewish state
only became fully evident 19 years later. Not even they themselves realized
just how important Israel had been to them. There had been clues. One of these
was the incredible popularity of Exodus (1958), Leon Uris's potboiler about the
establishment of Israel. It sold more than 20,000,000 copies in hardcover and
paperback, and was probably read by more Jews during the 1950sthan any other book. Those Jews who did
not read the novel saw the movie version by Otto Preminger. But not even the
most astute observers of American Jewry were prepared for 1967. "American Jews, try as they
may," Morris N. Kertzer wrote on the eve of the Six‑Day War,
"find difficulty in feeling the peoplehood of Israel, the mystical bond
that unites them with their coreligionists outside the United States. . . . The
boundaries of America are the limits of their creative Jewish concerns.”
Feelings toward
Israel that had been suppressed or ignored by American Jews gushed forth
because of the particular circumstances preceding the June 1967Six‑Day War. With Israel
surrounded by Arab enemies threatening genocide, American Jewry faced the
prospect of witnessing a Holocaust for the second time. For American Jewry,
Israel had been a tragically belated and partial answer to Auschwitz. The
establishment of the Jewish state meant that the martyrdom of the 6,000,000
European Jews was not totally in vain and that Jewish history still had
meaning. Should Israel be overrun by the Arabs, the psychological blow to
American Jews would have been devastating.
They were
determined to do whatever was possible to prevent it. Rabbi Arthur Hertzberg,
writing two months after the war with its memories still fresh, noted that the
crisis had united American Jews "with deep Jewish commitments as they
have never been united before, and it has evoked commitments in many Jews who
previously seemed untouched by them. . . . There are no conventional Western
theological terms with which to explain this,” he said, "and most
contemporary Jews experience these without knowing how to define them. . . .
Israel may . . . now be a strong focus of worldwide Jewish emotional loyalty
and [serve] as a preservative of a sense of Jewish identity."
The response of American Jewry to the Six‑Day War
surprised even those most sanguine about the depth of American Jewish identity.
In June 1967 alone, more than 7,500 American Jews volunteered to take over the
civilian jobs of Israelis serving in the armed forces. One man and his two sons
approached an official of the Jewish Agency in New York on June 5, the day the
war broke out. "I have no money to give, but here are my sons," he
said. "Please send them over immediately." The outpouring of money by
American Jews (and some Gentiles) to help Israel was unprecedented in the
history of Jewish and American philanthropy
In 1966, over $136 million had been pledged to the various
community fund drives, and an article in Fortune
magazine discussed “the miracle of Jewish giving." In 1967, the figure was $317 million: $15
million raised in fifteen minutes at one luncheon, and over $100 million was
raised in a month. Money came in faster than it could be tabulated; and donors,
overcome by the urgency of the situation, often insisted on giving cash rather
than checks. Numerous persons donated the cash-surrender value of life
insurance policies. Contributions were made to the United Jewish Appeal in lieu
of anniversary, birthday, graduation, Bar mitzvah, and Father's Day gifts. Jewish
youth organizations turned their treasuries over to the UJA.
The reaction of American Jews to the Yom Kippur War of 1973
dwarfed their response to the Six‑Day War, as once again American Jewry
was engulfed by memories of World War II. American Jews were particularly
angered by the fact that Egypt and her allies chose Yom Kippur, the most solemn
day of the year, to launch a surprise attack. In 1973, in contrast to 1967,
Israel was thrown on the defensive early in the war and faced a far more
difficult economic and military situation than six years earlier. American Jews
responded accordingly. This time over 30,000 American Jews volunteered to work
in Israel. $107 million was pledged to the UJA during the first week of the
war, and a total of $675 million was pledged during the entire campaign.
There were Jews both in Israel and America critical of this
"checkbook Judaism.” William Zuckerman argued that American Jewishness had
degenerated into “campaign Judaism.” American Jewry, Zuckerman said, “has
almost consciously emptied itself of all higher aspirations and spiritual needs
and has willingly limited itself to the role of a financial milk cow for
others. . . . How can a community…whose highest ideal is mechanical
fundraising, be the source of nobility and greatness?” Writing checks might be
a salve for the conscience of Jews who felt guilty that they were not better
Jews, but they were no substitute for making aliyah, observing the Sabbath, and
keeping kosher.
While true, these complaints missed the point. People pay
for those things they value, and the vast sums contributed in 1967 and 1973
demonstrated, as nothing else could demonstrate, the priority of many American
Jews.
Edward Shapiro is a Professor of History at Seton Hall
University.
Shapiro, Edward S.A Time for Healing: American Jewry Since World War II.
© 1992. Reprinted with permission of The Johns Hopkins University Press.