Mark Twain once quipped that “God created war so that Americans would learn geography.”
While most American Jews had some knowledge of Israel and Gaza’s locations before October 7, many of us will now never forget the names Kibbutz Be’eri or Kfar Aza. Like Kishinev and Babyn Yar, they have become deeply emblazoned in the collective Jewish memory on the long list of locales where Jews were murdered for being Jews.
As the war continues, our communal focus should rightly remain focused on supporting the people of Israel, fighting antisemitism, and calling for the freedom of our fellow Jews who remain in captivity. Yet we should also be mindful of the colossal, indeed existential, question that will need answering when the guns of war have fallen silent.
Who can we count on?
The answer is not, by and large, American universities, whose officials issued mealy-mouthed statements in the wake of the massacres and then took insufficient steps to protect Jewish students.
Sadly, the answer is also not leaders of the women’s, civil, and human rights organizations – causes so many of us have proudly supported for decades.
The causes must endure and continue to deserve our support, but we should be under no illusions that these organizations’ leaders care about Jewish lives. They do not care that Hamas terrorists raped Israeli women on October 7. They do not care that half of Israeli Jews are of Middle Eastern descent. They do not consider us part of the diversity, equity, and inclusion for which they advocate, and the sooner we recognize that fact, the less disappointed we will be.
We cannot count on those in the newsrooms of major American media outlets.
They have shown time and again where they stand over the decades of this conflict. Since October 7, they have used their platforms in ways large and small to smear Israel.
It seems every single decision is shot through with a lack of care for Jews, from the headlines that scream lies about Israel, to the pictures that portray a false moral equivalence between Israelis and the terrorists who threaten them, to the articles and editorials themselves that over and over again accuse Israel of crimes it did not commit.
And perhaps most painfully, when the chips are down, there are even some of our fellow Jews we cannot count on. Before the blood of their fellow Jews had even dried, organizations like Jewish Voice for Peace and IfNotNow were attempting to contextualize these acts of depravity and place the blame for them at the feet of the Israeli government and people.
Since Israel began its response, their reaction has only intensified. If they feel the slightest pause about advocating for the same cause as those who murdered Jews or that their presence provides useful cover to antisemites and Jew killers, it has not been apparent in any of their statements or actions.
But the news is not all bleak. We know that we can count on the vast majority of our Jewish community, like the nearly 300,000 of us and our allies who went to Washington with very little notice, for the rally organized by Jewish federations and the Conference of Presidents, to tell our Israeli siblings that they are not alone.
We can count on our elected officials.
The support that we have seen from the White House and the overwhelming majority of Congress is the difference between Israelis living and dying, and we should not let a few shrill voices distract us from the enormity of that fact. Most importantly, we have learned that, despite the relentless media criticism and one-sided coverage, we can count on the majority of Americans standing with us.
According to November 20 polls from Harvard CAPS-Harris, a resounding 80% of Americans continue to support Israel in its war against Hamas. As we have seen in the past, support is higher among older Americans, but still 65% of those aged 25-34 and 55% from age 18-24 support Israel in its objectives.
Accordingly, on the day that the war ends, as we begin to think of a path forward, there are important questions with which we will need to wrestle.
Do we invest more in our relationships with universities, the media, and civil rights organizations, institutions that we have traditionally cherished, or do we give up on them and find another way? What, if any, consequences should members of our community face when they have sided with those who cheered for us to be murdered? Should we welcome them back in the hopes that they are reachable, or should we consider whether they have created too big of a breach?
None of these questions will be easy. None of the answers can be reached without pain.
But, as we have throughout our history, we will rise to this challenge. It is what we do and who we are. And the future of our people demands nothing less.
The writer is head of North America at The Jewish Agency for Israel and the president and CEO of Jewish Agency International Development.