(Originally published in the New York Jewish Week)
Summer is the main season for boondoggling — taking advantage of free or heavily subsidized trips to Israel — an expensive pastime that has the sole virtue of being for ordinary folks and not just the rich people. Although it is practiced throughout the year, boondoggling reaches its peak in July and August when thousands of diaspora Jews trek on expense-paid hegiras to the Holy Land. Federations, foundations, the Jewish Agency and other repositories of philanthropic funds that are intended for the betterment of Jewish life foot the bill.
Betterment there is aplenty, as airlines, hotels, restaurants and all who live off the tourist trade in Israel reap economic advantage. The prime beneficiaries are educators, community workers, students and whoever else manages, with or without protektzia, to connect with any of the dozens of organizations that offer free trips as they exult in self-delusory ecstasy that a stay in Israel brings about extraordinary transformational results.
This has not been an especially busy year for the boondoggle business, as 1999 is wedged between Israel’s 50th anniversary and the millennium. Recently, though, there was an especially lamentable example of the tendency to spend limited Jewish communal money on these extravaganzas. More than 350 Jewish educators from around the world came to Israel for two weeks as the guests of the Jewish Agency. They were wined and dined; the culminating event was an expensive catered affair at the magnificent Haas Promenade in East Jerusalem that was followed by a fireworks display.
It may be that the Israeli army had spare cherry bombs that it wanted to dispose of. More likely — and I am told by educators that this was the case — the Jewish Agency had unspent money and could not think of any better way to use the funds at hand.
I am not against going to Israel. We all should go, as often as we can, to experience the glory of our heritage and, less important, to help the country’s economy along the way. I also accept, to a degree, the premise of Birthright Israel, that a community-financed trip to Israel may make a difference in the lives of marginally committed teenagers.
What I object to is the lavish expenditures to bring Americans and other foreigners wholesale to Israel and the comparable use of Israeli funds to send Israelis abroad on what usually amounts to shopping and pleasure junkets. The programs that involve educators, community workers, etc. are an egregious example of the broader tendency that encompasses, as just one more illustration, the hundreds of academics who are invited, all-expenses paid, to Israeli conferences on arcane subjects.
What I also object to is the pollyannaish fantasy that sending principals, teachers and others will result in their being better at what they are paid to do. While there is zero evidence that these trips improve job performance or lead to other communal gains, they are failsafe arrangements. The trip to Israel alone is proof of success. Nothing more is required, although it is customary to ask the participants to complete a questionnaire that asks about their degree of satisfaction. It is customary as well for the junketeers to respond that it was a wonderful and meaningful experience and ought to be repeated.
Because it is failsafe, people in the philanthropy business constantly dream up new variations on the theme. Leadership training has become popular. Jewish kids of college age are selected, and while few have demonstrated anything that can be called leadership potential, it is expected that they will emerge from 10 days or two weeks in Israel as nascent Jewish leaders.
All that is being proved is that tens of millions of dollars of Jewish philanthropy can add up to lots of zeros.
These activities limit what foundations and federations can do to advance Jewish life. People involved in day schools claim that for all of the talk of additional philanthropic support, the situation is no better than it used to be and it may be worse. The funders insist that they are doing more. Presumably, both positions cannot be right. Or can they? The explanation lies in the preference of funders for tangential projects, rather than direct support to the schools. Trips to Israel are one manifestation of the trend. There are also family education, workshops and conferences, all of which allow philanthropic givers to believe that they are aiding Jewish education when, in fact, the schools are not being helped.
Day schools are badly underfunded, even with parents being pressured to pay rapidly rising tuition charges. It is difficult to determine the extent to which the high cost of day school education is a disincentive for marginally religious parents. It is certain that inadequate facilities, limited academic programs and a slew of other shortcomings are a disincentive in many cases. American Jewry is not willing to make the investment needed to make day schools attractive alternatives to families that are Jews at risk.
Instead of sending principals to Israel, the money should be utilized to directly assist struggling day schools. This will make them better institutions of Jewish learning. In the process, principals will be capable of doing a better job.
Friday, September 17, 1999
Wednesday, August 18, 1999
Boondoggling
Summer is the main season for boondoggling in Israel, an expensive pastime that has the sole virtue of being for ordinary folks and not just the rich people. Although it is practiced throughout the year, boondoggling reaches its peak in July and August when thousands of Diaspora Jews trek on expense-paid hegiras to the Holy Land. Federations, foundations, the Jewish Agency and other repositories of philanthropic funds that are intended for the betterment of Jewish life foot the bill.
Betterment there is aplenty, as airlines, hotels, restaurants and all who live off the tourist trade in Israel reap economic advantage. The prime beneficiaries are educators, community workers, students and whoever else manages, with or without protektzia, to connect with any of the dozens of organizations that offer free trips as they exult in self-delusory ecstasy that a stay in Israel brings about extraordinary transformational results.
This has not been an especially busy year for the boondoggle business, as 1999 is wedged in between Israel’s 50th Anniversary and the Millennium. Recently, though, there was an especially lamentable example of the tendency to spend limited Jewish communal money on these extravaganzas. More than 350 Jewish educators from around the world came to Israel for two weeks as the guests of the Jewish Agency. They were wined and dined; the culminating event was an expensive catered affair at the magnificent Haas Promenade in East Jerusalem which was followed by a fireworks display.
It may be that the Israeli army had spare cherry bombs that it wanted to dispose of. More likely – and I am told by educators that this was the case – the Jewish Agency had unspent money and it could not think of any better way to use the funds at hand.
I am not against going to Israel. We should all go, as often as we can, to experience the glory of our heritage and, less importantly, to help the country’s economy along the way. I also accept, to a degree, the premise of Birthright Israel, that a community-financed trip to Israel may make a difference in the lives of marginally committed teenagers.
What I object to is the lavish expenditures to bring Americans and other foreigners wholesale to Israel and the comparable use of Israeli funds to send Israelis abroad on what usually amounts to shopping and pleasure junkets. The programs that involve educators, community workers, etc. are an egregious example of the broader tendency that encompasses, as just one more illustration, the hundreds of academics who are invited, all-expenses paid, to Israeli conferences on arcane subjects. There is a good prospect that somewhere along the line there has been a conference in Israel on the effects of Greek architecture on the small towns of Southern North Dakota.
What I also object to is the pollyannaish fantasy that sending principals, teachers and others will result in their being better at what they are paid to do. In a way, this is an updated version of Operation Magic Carpet, the bold 1950’s program which brought hundreds of thousands of North African Jews to Israel. There is, however, nothing magical about the contemporary quickie excursions. They are scarcely dissimilar from the visits to Israel by ordinary tourists, the main difference being that the tourists pay for what is being given to them.
While there is zero evidence that these trips improve job performance or lead to other communal gains, they are failsafe arrangements. The trip to Israel alone is proof of success. Nothing more is required, although it is customary to ask the participants to complete a questionnaire which asks about their degree of satisfaction. It is also customary for the junketeers to respond that it was a wonderful and meaningful experience and ought to be repeated.
Because it is failsafe, people in the philanthropy business constantly dream up new variations on the theme. Leadership training has become popular. Jewish kids of college age are selected and while few have demonstrated anything that can be called leadership potential, it is expected that they will emerge from ten days or two weeks in Israel as nascent Jewish leaders.
All that is being proved is that tens of millions of dollars of Jewish philanthropy can add up to lots of zeros.
These activities limit what foundations and Federations can do to advance Jewish life. People involved in day schools claim that for all of the talk of additional philanthropic support, the situation is no better than it used to be and it may be worse. The funders insist that they are doing more. Presumably, both positions cannot be right. Or can they? The explanation lies in the preference of funders for tangential projects, rather than direct support to the schools. Trips to Israel are one manifestation of the trend. There are also family education, workshops, conferences, all of which allow philanthropic givers to believe that they are aiding Jewish education when, in fact, the schools are not being helped.
Day schools are badly underfunded, even with the parents being pressured to pay rapidly rising tuition charges. It is difficult to determine the extent to which the high cost of day school education is a disincentive for marginally religious parents. It is certain that inadequate facilities, limited academic programs and a slew of other shortcomings are a disincentive in many cases. American Jewry is not willing to make the investment needed to make day schools attractive alternatives to families that are Jews at risk.
Instead of sending principals to Israel, the money should be utilized to directly assist struggling day schools. This will make them better institutions of Jewish learning. In the process, principals will be capable of doing a better job.
Betterment there is aplenty, as airlines, hotels, restaurants and all who live off the tourist trade in Israel reap economic advantage. The prime beneficiaries are educators, community workers, students and whoever else manages, with or without protektzia, to connect with any of the dozens of organizations that offer free trips as they exult in self-delusory ecstasy that a stay in Israel brings about extraordinary transformational results.
This has not been an especially busy year for the boondoggle business, as 1999 is wedged in between Israel’s 50th Anniversary and the Millennium. Recently, though, there was an especially lamentable example of the tendency to spend limited Jewish communal money on these extravaganzas. More than 350 Jewish educators from around the world came to Israel for two weeks as the guests of the Jewish Agency. They were wined and dined; the culminating event was an expensive catered affair at the magnificent Haas Promenade in East Jerusalem which was followed by a fireworks display.
It may be that the Israeli army had spare cherry bombs that it wanted to dispose of. More likely – and I am told by educators that this was the case – the Jewish Agency had unspent money and it could not think of any better way to use the funds at hand.
I am not against going to Israel. We should all go, as often as we can, to experience the glory of our heritage and, less importantly, to help the country’s economy along the way. I also accept, to a degree, the premise of Birthright Israel, that a community-financed trip to Israel may make a difference in the lives of marginally committed teenagers.
What I object to is the lavish expenditures to bring Americans and other foreigners wholesale to Israel and the comparable use of Israeli funds to send Israelis abroad on what usually amounts to shopping and pleasure junkets. The programs that involve educators, community workers, etc. are an egregious example of the broader tendency that encompasses, as just one more illustration, the hundreds of academics who are invited, all-expenses paid, to Israeli conferences on arcane subjects. There is a good prospect that somewhere along the line there has been a conference in Israel on the effects of Greek architecture on the small towns of Southern North Dakota.
What I also object to is the pollyannaish fantasy that sending principals, teachers and others will result in their being better at what they are paid to do. In a way, this is an updated version of Operation Magic Carpet, the bold 1950’s program which brought hundreds of thousands of North African Jews to Israel. There is, however, nothing magical about the contemporary quickie excursions. They are scarcely dissimilar from the visits to Israel by ordinary tourists, the main difference being that the tourists pay for what is being given to them.
While there is zero evidence that these trips improve job performance or lead to other communal gains, they are failsafe arrangements. The trip to Israel alone is proof of success. Nothing more is required, although it is customary to ask the participants to complete a questionnaire which asks about their degree of satisfaction. It is also customary for the junketeers to respond that it was a wonderful and meaningful experience and ought to be repeated.
Because it is failsafe, people in the philanthropy business constantly dream up new variations on the theme. Leadership training has become popular. Jewish kids of college age are selected and while few have demonstrated anything that can be called leadership potential, it is expected that they will emerge from ten days or two weeks in Israel as nascent Jewish leaders.
All that is being proved is that tens of millions of dollars of Jewish philanthropy can add up to lots of zeros.
These activities limit what foundations and Federations can do to advance Jewish life. People involved in day schools claim that for all of the talk of additional philanthropic support, the situation is no better than it used to be and it may be worse. The funders insist that they are doing more. Presumably, both positions cannot be right. Or can they? The explanation lies in the preference of funders for tangential projects, rather than direct support to the schools. Trips to Israel are one manifestation of the trend. There are also family education, workshops, conferences, all of which allow philanthropic givers to believe that they are aiding Jewish education when, in fact, the schools are not being helped.
Day schools are badly underfunded, even with the parents being pressured to pay rapidly rising tuition charges. It is difficult to determine the extent to which the high cost of day school education is a disincentive for marginally religious parents. It is certain that inadequate facilities, limited academic programs and a slew of other shortcomings are a disincentive in many cases. American Jewry is not willing to make the investment needed to make day schools attractive alternatives to families that are Jews at risk.
Instead of sending principals to Israel, the money should be utilized to directly assist struggling day schools. This will make them better institutions of Jewish learning. In the process, principals will be capable of doing a better job.
Friday, August 06, 1999
Discord In Rejuvenating Ukraine Jewry
(Originally published in the New York Jewish Week)
A new struggle is now being waged in the former Soviet Union. It is no longer about emigration, that struggle having been won with more than a million Jews resettling in Israel or the U.S.— one of the great success stories of contemporary Jewish life.
The new conflict is not taking place in public view here but in unfamiliar distant places; once more, though, the stakes involve Jewish survival.
I learned about some of this struggle in a recent visit to Ukraine, a land steeped in Jewish history and blood, where an estimated 500,000 Jews continue to live.
In Kiev and Dnepropetrovsk, I saw how people of extraordinary commitment are rebuilding meaningful Jewish life in a race against time to reverse more than two generations of extreme communist repression of everything Jewish.
What I saw is only a part of a heroic picture. In Kharkov, through the valiant efforts of the Orthodox Union and others, a vibrant community has emerged.
To one extent or another this is true throughout the former Soviet Union, in all places where Jews live in significant numbers. Schools have been opened and shuls restored. There are children’s homes, programs for the elderly, food for the poor, community centers — in short, the framework for Jewish communal life. The Jerusalem Post has estimated that there are perhaps 400 Jewish organizations and institutions in Ukraine alone.
All told, there may be more Jews now in the former Soviet Union than the number that had been estimated 20 years ago when Jews were first allowed to leave. Whatever the number of Jews remaining in the FSU, it is certain to decline, as age and assimilation exact an irreversible toll.
On the positive side, emigration to Israel, especially among the young, is a significant factor.
This outcome and much of the beneficial activity to assist Russian Jews result in large measure from the role played by the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee and Jewish Agency. They have committed funds and personnel, working with Chabad and the mainly Orthodox groups that are leading this new struggle for Russian Jews. This was evident in Dnepropetrovsk, where Rabbi Shmuel Kaminetsky of Chabad has created an impressive infrastructure of Jewish life.
JDC’s cooperation with the Orthodox groups is predicated on the simple calculation that if it wants to accomplish its goals in the FSU, it must work with the groups that are in the field. Neither ideology nor theology come into consideration. As a result of the good relations that have developed, immense benefits have come to Jews living in the FSU, as well as to world Jewry.
This apparently is not good enough for the Reform movement. Eager as always to rain on any Orthodox parade, American Reform leaders have demanded that JDC terminate support for programs directed by Rabbi Yaakov Bleich of Kiev, the chief rabbi of Ukraine. This eruption, the latest in an endless series of anti-Orthodox rhetoric and advocacy, was a response to Rabbi Bleich’s position that Jewish communal property in Ukraine should not be given to the Reform movement, which never owned any of it.
Still a young man, Rabbi Bleich went to Kiev nearly a decade ago on behalf of the Karlin-Stolin chasidic group, which has its roots in the area. Small in number and with quite limited financial resources, these chasidim have sacrificed much as they have built a revived Jewish community in the city of slaughter, where Babi Yar is located.
Rabbi Bleich is a heroic figure. He is intelligent and knows that he cannot go it alone. He has established good relations with the non-Orthodox; and in his own activities and rulings has shown understanding and tolerance.
Truth to tell, his activities are sorely underfunded. The buildings that house the schools are desperately in need of repair, and Rabbi Bleich could accomplish much more with additional support. As it is, he relies on volunteers, primarily from the U.S., who come as counselors for his camps and to work in other programs.
This pattern of Orthodox volunteerism is evident throughout the FSU. Young Orthodox men and women of commitment forego financial gain and physical comfort as they embrace the opportunity to serve Jews in far-off places.
There is a message in this for the Reform, if they could wean themselves from the great temptation to take potshots at the Orthodox from their places of comfort and prosperity. Rabbi Bleich cannot prevent the Reform from coming to Ukraine and establishing its own projects. This is a movement that is far more affluent than the Orthodox and, we are told, three to four times more numerous. If, as we hear, Reform young people are imbued with a new sense of Jewish commitment, let some of them go to Ukraine and elsewhere in the FSU to help set up schools and camps, tend to the elderly and feed the poor.
Likely, such activities would attract JDC and Jewish Agency support.
This has not happened, and isn’t likely to, because the Reform movement lacks a sense of sacrifice. Its leadership attacks the Orthodox, in some measure because there are those in the media who foolishly pay attention, but primarily because that is the only option the movement has.
Jews in Ukraine and the FSU, overwhelmingly irreligious as they may be, respond to the loving kindness and giving spirit of the Orthodox because there has been so much hardship in their lives. They welcome the goodness that is being shown by people from the outside.
People respond to goodness, not to press releases issued thousands of miles away that have as their only message an attack on those who are doing good.
A new struggle is now being waged in the former Soviet Union. It is no longer about emigration, that struggle having been won with more than a million Jews resettling in Israel or the U.S.— one of the great success stories of contemporary Jewish life.
The new conflict is not taking place in public view here but in unfamiliar distant places; once more, though, the stakes involve Jewish survival.
I learned about some of this struggle in a recent visit to Ukraine, a land steeped in Jewish history and blood, where an estimated 500,000 Jews continue to live.
In Kiev and Dnepropetrovsk, I saw how people of extraordinary commitment are rebuilding meaningful Jewish life in a race against time to reverse more than two generations of extreme communist repression of everything Jewish.
What I saw is only a part of a heroic picture. In Kharkov, through the valiant efforts of the Orthodox Union and others, a vibrant community has emerged.
To one extent or another this is true throughout the former Soviet Union, in all places where Jews live in significant numbers. Schools have been opened and shuls restored. There are children’s homes, programs for the elderly, food for the poor, community centers — in short, the framework for Jewish communal life. The Jerusalem Post has estimated that there are perhaps 400 Jewish organizations and institutions in Ukraine alone.
All told, there may be more Jews now in the former Soviet Union than the number that had been estimated 20 years ago when Jews were first allowed to leave. Whatever the number of Jews remaining in the FSU, it is certain to decline, as age and assimilation exact an irreversible toll.
On the positive side, emigration to Israel, especially among the young, is a significant factor.
This outcome and much of the beneficial activity to assist Russian Jews result in large measure from the role played by the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee and Jewish Agency. They have committed funds and personnel, working with Chabad and the mainly Orthodox groups that are leading this new struggle for Russian Jews. This was evident in Dnepropetrovsk, where Rabbi Shmuel Kaminetsky of Chabad has created an impressive infrastructure of Jewish life.
JDC’s cooperation with the Orthodox groups is predicated on the simple calculation that if it wants to accomplish its goals in the FSU, it must work with the groups that are in the field. Neither ideology nor theology come into consideration. As a result of the good relations that have developed, immense benefits have come to Jews living in the FSU, as well as to world Jewry.
This apparently is not good enough for the Reform movement. Eager as always to rain on any Orthodox parade, American Reform leaders have demanded that JDC terminate support for programs directed by Rabbi Yaakov Bleich of Kiev, the chief rabbi of Ukraine. This eruption, the latest in an endless series of anti-Orthodox rhetoric and advocacy, was a response to Rabbi Bleich’s position that Jewish communal property in Ukraine should not be given to the Reform movement, which never owned any of it.
Still a young man, Rabbi Bleich went to Kiev nearly a decade ago on behalf of the Karlin-Stolin chasidic group, which has its roots in the area. Small in number and with quite limited financial resources, these chasidim have sacrificed much as they have built a revived Jewish community in the city of slaughter, where Babi Yar is located.
Rabbi Bleich is a heroic figure. He is intelligent and knows that he cannot go it alone. He has established good relations with the non-Orthodox; and in his own activities and rulings has shown understanding and tolerance.
Truth to tell, his activities are sorely underfunded. The buildings that house the schools are desperately in need of repair, and Rabbi Bleich could accomplish much more with additional support. As it is, he relies on volunteers, primarily from the U.S., who come as counselors for his camps and to work in other programs.
This pattern of Orthodox volunteerism is evident throughout the FSU. Young Orthodox men and women of commitment forego financial gain and physical comfort as they embrace the opportunity to serve Jews in far-off places.
There is a message in this for the Reform, if they could wean themselves from the great temptation to take potshots at the Orthodox from their places of comfort and prosperity. Rabbi Bleich cannot prevent the Reform from coming to Ukraine and establishing its own projects. This is a movement that is far more affluent than the Orthodox and, we are told, three to four times more numerous. If, as we hear, Reform young people are imbued with a new sense of Jewish commitment, let some of them go to Ukraine and elsewhere in the FSU to help set up schools and camps, tend to the elderly and feed the poor.
Likely, such activities would attract JDC and Jewish Agency support.
This has not happened, and isn’t likely to, because the Reform movement lacks a sense of sacrifice. Its leadership attacks the Orthodox, in some measure because there are those in the media who foolishly pay attention, but primarily because that is the only option the movement has.
Jews in Ukraine and the FSU, overwhelmingly irreligious as they may be, respond to the loving kindness and giving spirit of the Orthodox because there has been so much hardship in their lives. They welcome the goodness that is being shown by people from the outside.
People respond to goodness, not to press releases issued thousands of miles away that have as their only message an attack on those who are doing good.
Monday, July 26, 1999
Visit to Ukraine
The struggle for Soviet Jewry as we knew it ended years ago. The exodus of more than one-million Jews, mainly to Israel and this country, eliminated the need to march and protest, to demand the release of prisoners of conscience. Our militancy had paid off, in one of the great success stories of contemporary Jewish life.
Another Jewish struggle is now being waged in the former Soviet Union. Because it does not take place on Fifth Avenue or in public view but in unfamiliar distant places, we hear far less about this story than we heard about Natan Sharansky and the refuseniks. Once more, however, what is at stake is Jewish survival.
I learned about some of this struggle in a recent visit to Ukraine, a land steeped in Jewish history and in Jewish blood, where an estimated 500,000 Jews continue to live. In Kiev and Dnepropetrovsk I saw how people of extraordinary commitment are rebuilding meaningful Jewish life in a race against time to reverse more than two generations of extreme Communist repression of everything that was Jewish.
What I saw is only a part of an heroic picture. In Kharkov, through the valiant efforts of the Orthodox Union and its visionary former president, Shimon Kwestel, and others, a vibrant community has emerged. To one extent or another this is true throughout the FSU in all places where Jews live in significant numbers. Schools have been opened and shuls restored. There are children’s homes, programs for the elderly, food for the poor, community centers – in short, the framework for Jewish communal life. The Jerusalem Post has estimated that there are perhaps 400 Jewish organizations and institutions in Ukraine alone.
All told, there may be more Jews now in the FSU than the number that had been estimated twenty years ago when Jews were first allowed to leave. This is because of what might be called the Madeline Albright syndrome. During the terrible Stalinist years, many Jews suppressed their identity because they believed that it could result only in ill for them and their families. Many tens of thousands of their children were never told of their heritage.
Whatever the number of Jews remaining in the FSU, it is certain to decline, as age and assimilation exact an irreversible toll. Emigration, especially to Israel, remains a factor, as among the young who benefit from the newly established Jewish activities, there is a strong inclination to live in the Jewish State.
This outcome and much of the beneficial activity to assist Russian Jews result in large measure from the role played by the Joint Distribution Committee and Jewish Agency. They have committed funds and personnel, working with Chabad and the mainly Orthodox groups that are leading this new struggle for Russian Jews. This was evident in Dnepropetrovsk, where Rabbi Shmuel Kaminetsky of Chabad has created an impressive infrastructure of Jewish life.
JDC’s cooperation with the Orthodox is predicated on the simple calculation that if it wants to accomplish its goals in the FSU, it needs to work with the groups that are in the field. Neither ideology or theology come into consideration. As a result of the good relations that have developed, immense benefits have come to Jews living in the FSU, as well as to world Jewry.
This apparently is not good enough for the Reform movement. Eager as always to rain on any Orthodox parade, Reform leaders have demanded that JDC terminate support for programs directed by Rabbi Yaakov Bleich of Kiev, the Chief Rabbi of Ukraine. This eruption, the latest in an endless series of anti-Orthodox rhetoric and advocacy, was a response to Rabbi Bleich’s position that Jewish communal property in Ukraine should not be given to the Reform movement which never owned any of it.
Still a young man, Rabbi Bleich went to Kiev nearly a decade ago on behalf of the Karlin-Stolin chassidic group which has its roots in the area. Small in number and with quite limited financial resources, these chassidim have sacrificed much as they have built a revived Jewish community in the city of slaughter, in the city where Babi Yar is located.
Rabbi Bleich is an heroic figure. He is intelligent and he knows that he cannot go it alone. He has established good relations with the non-Orthodox and in his own activities and rulings he has shown understanding and tolerance. Truth to tell, his activities are sorely underfunded. The buildings that house the schools are desperately in need of repair and there is much more that he could accomplish if he had additional support. As it is, he relies on volunteers, primarily from the U.S., who come as counselors for his camps and to work in other programs.
This pattern of Orthodox volunteerism is evident throughout the FSU. Young Orthodox men and women of commitment forego financial gain and physical comfort as they embrace the opportunity to serve Jews in far-off places.
There is a message in this for the Reform, if they could wean themselves away from the great temptation to take potshots at the Orthodox from their places of comfort and prosperity. Rabbi Bleich cannot prevent the Reform from coming to Ukraine and establishing its own projects. This is a movement that is a thousand times more affluent than the Orthodox and, we are told, three to four times more numerous. We are being told that its young people are imbued with a new sense of Jewish commitment.
Let some of these people go to Ukraine and elsewhere in the FSU. Let them set up schools and camps, tend to the elderly and feed the poor. No one could stop them or would try to. Likely, such activities would attract JDC and Jewish Agency support.
This has not happened and isn’t likely to because the Reform movement is bereft of a sense of sacrifice. Its leadership attacks the Orthodox, in some measure because there are those in the media who foolishly pay attention but primarily because that is the only option the movement has.
Jews in Ukraine and the FSU, overwhelmingly irreligious as they may be, respond to the loving kindness and giving spirit of the Orthodox because there has been so much hardship in their lives and they welcome the goodness that is being shown by people from the outside.
People respond to goodness, not to press releases issued thousands of miles away which have as their only message an attack on those who are doing good.
Another Jewish struggle is now being waged in the former Soviet Union. Because it does not take place on Fifth Avenue or in public view but in unfamiliar distant places, we hear far less about this story than we heard about Natan Sharansky and the refuseniks. Once more, however, what is at stake is Jewish survival.
I learned about some of this struggle in a recent visit to Ukraine, a land steeped in Jewish history and in Jewish blood, where an estimated 500,000 Jews continue to live. In Kiev and Dnepropetrovsk I saw how people of extraordinary commitment are rebuilding meaningful Jewish life in a race against time to reverse more than two generations of extreme Communist repression of everything that was Jewish.
What I saw is only a part of an heroic picture. In Kharkov, through the valiant efforts of the Orthodox Union and its visionary former president, Shimon Kwestel, and others, a vibrant community has emerged. To one extent or another this is true throughout the FSU in all places where Jews live in significant numbers. Schools have been opened and shuls restored. There are children’s homes, programs for the elderly, food for the poor, community centers – in short, the framework for Jewish communal life. The Jerusalem Post has estimated that there are perhaps 400 Jewish organizations and institutions in Ukraine alone.
All told, there may be more Jews now in the FSU than the number that had been estimated twenty years ago when Jews were first allowed to leave. This is because of what might be called the Madeline Albright syndrome. During the terrible Stalinist years, many Jews suppressed their identity because they believed that it could result only in ill for them and their families. Many tens of thousands of their children were never told of their heritage.
Whatever the number of Jews remaining in the FSU, it is certain to decline, as age and assimilation exact an irreversible toll. Emigration, especially to Israel, remains a factor, as among the young who benefit from the newly established Jewish activities, there is a strong inclination to live in the Jewish State.
This outcome and much of the beneficial activity to assist Russian Jews result in large measure from the role played by the Joint Distribution Committee and Jewish Agency. They have committed funds and personnel, working with Chabad and the mainly Orthodox groups that are leading this new struggle for Russian Jews. This was evident in Dnepropetrovsk, where Rabbi Shmuel Kaminetsky of Chabad has created an impressive infrastructure of Jewish life.
JDC’s cooperation with the Orthodox is predicated on the simple calculation that if it wants to accomplish its goals in the FSU, it needs to work with the groups that are in the field. Neither ideology or theology come into consideration. As a result of the good relations that have developed, immense benefits have come to Jews living in the FSU, as well as to world Jewry.
This apparently is not good enough for the Reform movement. Eager as always to rain on any Orthodox parade, Reform leaders have demanded that JDC terminate support for programs directed by Rabbi Yaakov Bleich of Kiev, the Chief Rabbi of Ukraine. This eruption, the latest in an endless series of anti-Orthodox rhetoric and advocacy, was a response to Rabbi Bleich’s position that Jewish communal property in Ukraine should not be given to the Reform movement which never owned any of it.
Still a young man, Rabbi Bleich went to Kiev nearly a decade ago on behalf of the Karlin-Stolin chassidic group which has its roots in the area. Small in number and with quite limited financial resources, these chassidim have sacrificed much as they have built a revived Jewish community in the city of slaughter, in the city where Babi Yar is located.
Rabbi Bleich is an heroic figure. He is intelligent and he knows that he cannot go it alone. He has established good relations with the non-Orthodox and in his own activities and rulings he has shown understanding and tolerance. Truth to tell, his activities are sorely underfunded. The buildings that house the schools are desperately in need of repair and there is much more that he could accomplish if he had additional support. As it is, he relies on volunteers, primarily from the U.S., who come as counselors for his camps and to work in other programs.
This pattern of Orthodox volunteerism is evident throughout the FSU. Young Orthodox men and women of commitment forego financial gain and physical comfort as they embrace the opportunity to serve Jews in far-off places.
There is a message in this for the Reform, if they could wean themselves away from the great temptation to take potshots at the Orthodox from their places of comfort and prosperity. Rabbi Bleich cannot prevent the Reform from coming to Ukraine and establishing its own projects. This is a movement that is a thousand times more affluent than the Orthodox and, we are told, three to four times more numerous. We are being told that its young people are imbued with a new sense of Jewish commitment.
Let some of these people go to Ukraine and elsewhere in the FSU. Let them set up schools and camps, tend to the elderly and feed the poor. No one could stop them or would try to. Likely, such activities would attract JDC and Jewish Agency support.
This has not happened and isn’t likely to because the Reform movement is bereft of a sense of sacrifice. Its leadership attacks the Orthodox, in some measure because there are those in the media who foolishly pay attention but primarily because that is the only option the movement has.
Jews in Ukraine and the FSU, overwhelmingly irreligious as they may be, respond to the loving kindness and giving spirit of the Orthodox because there has been so much hardship in their lives and they welcome the goodness that is being shown by people from the outside.
People respond to goodness, not to press releases issued thousands of miles away which have as their only message an attack on those who are doing good.
Friday, June 25, 1999
Chasidim And Politicians: An Unhealthy Relationship
(Originally published in the New York Jewish Week)
In a recent editorial, The New York Times lamented that the special election for an open state Senate seat in Rockland County “represents a new low.” While our newspaper of record was primarily upset that the commuter tax imposed on New York City suburbanites had been used as electoral bait, in fact the most sordid aspect of the contest was how chasidic communities were caught in the political crossfire and subjected to improper coercion, often because they rely more on government benefits than other groups.
This is a cautionary tale of what awaits chasidic groups if they do not exercise restraint in their involvement with public officials who are determined to win at any cost. Some of what happened is on the record already, as in the remarkable public threats against the chasidim made by Joe Holland, a Republican who had occupied the state Senate seat and who now is a local official. He was explicit in indicating what awaited Rockland’s chasidim if their leaders did not deliver the requisite votes for his designated successor.
Holland has not denied the comments attributed to him, although he has suggested that they were misinterpreted. In more private encounters, political operatives of Gov. Pataki and state Senate Majority Leader Joseph Bruno were brutal in the pressure exerted on the chasidim.
For all of their distinctive qualities and the attention that they get, chasidim are small in number, indeed, a miniscule proportion of even the Jewish electorate. They may seem to be more numerous because they stand out in a crowd and also because they seek out politicians who, in turn, seek their support. In the process, they and the politicians exaggerate the number of votes they have and can deliver. There are dozens of housing projects that have more eligible black or Hispanic voters than there are in entire chasidic groups. Those who doubt the accuracy of this observation are invited to examine election results in such presumed chasidic strongholds as Williamsburg and Crown Heights. Even in their own bailiwicks, their impact is diluted.
But to say that they are small and far less important than is often presumed is not to suggest that they are entirely inconsequential. Chasidim gravitate toward politics and politicians toward them. This is evident in the photo-op visits of yarmulke-bearing candidates to grand rabbis, as well as in the familiar picture of chasidic groupies who hang around political headquarters.
Much of this is quaint, probably childish as well, with little bearing on anything that matters. Chasidim have the satisfaction of seeing attention paid to their leaders, while politicians have the satisfaction of believing that they haven’t left a stone unturned in their quest for votes.
Occasionally, there is a darker side, as the Rockland County story illustrates. In some local races, clusters of voters amounting to no more than several hundred can make a difference, which is why Rockland’s chasidim were sought out and subjected to uncommon pressure. Their small numbers and discrete living patterns ensured that politicians could figure out — literally to the last man and woman — how many of them voted and for whom.
In short, they became prey, and politicians exploited their vulnerability. They had to vote for a specified candidate. Else, there would be a price to pay.
Campaign contributions are another danger spot. This is territory where other ethnic groups have made their ignoble mark, as we know from the recent Chinese experience. American Jews have been deeply involved in political fund raising for decades, giving the impression at times that these contributions are a surrogate for charity.
Chasidim are, at the most, in the minor leagues as political contributors, although here, too, their concentrated numbers and penchant for political involvement result in heightened vulnerability. They are now being pressured for contributions in a way that would have been unthinkable less than decade ago. About three months ago, a prominent person in one of Brooklyn’s chasidic groups came to me to complain that the Giuliani administration was twisting the arm of chasidim, the message being that unless substantial contributions were forthcoming there would be retribution in the form of reduced benefits and support for chasidic projects.
Shortly after, I spoke to a respected Orthodox leader. To my surprise, he confirmed the report of Giuliani administration arm-twisting and then justified it on the ground that since there are limited goodies to be dispersed by City Hall, it is only right that the rewards go to those who have added to the campaign coffers. Unfortunately, there are people, both inside and outside of government, who believe that the kind of behavior engaged in by the Giuliani administration is appropriate, that there is nothing wrong when tiny and vulnerable religious groups are made to feel that their well-being is dependent on campaign contributions.
Small wonder, then, that in recent weeks there was a major Giuliani fund-raiser in Borough Park, as well as a dinner in Manhattan that attracted large numbers of chasidim. It might not seem odd to some that chasidim now contribute inordinately to political candidates. I regard this development as unsettling, even frightening.
(I tried without success on three days to reach Bruce Teitelbaum, a key fund-raiser for Mayor Giuliani and perhaps his primary link with the Jewish community. My aim was to inform him of what I was writing and to ask for his comments.)
I know that the conditions that have forged the unhealthy relationship between the political world and the chasidic world will not at all be affected by my argument that this relationship is rotten to the core. My hope is that there will be a measure of restraint, perhaps from governmental and political officials who understand that the short-term fund-raising gains are likely to result in long-term problems.
More critically, there has to be a feeling of restraint on the chasidic side and on the part of those who connect them with government. The more that chasidim are enveloped in an atmosphere that requires them to dance to the tune of politicians, the greater the likelihood that the ante will be upped. Is it too much to expect chasidic and Orthodox leaders to recognize that abuse begets abuse and that unless the wrongful practices are stopped, substantial damage will be done to significant parts of the religious Jewish community?
In a recent editorial, The New York Times lamented that the special election for an open state Senate seat in Rockland County “represents a new low.” While our newspaper of record was primarily upset that the commuter tax imposed on New York City suburbanites had been used as electoral bait, in fact the most sordid aspect of the contest was how chasidic communities were caught in the political crossfire and subjected to improper coercion, often because they rely more on government benefits than other groups.
This is a cautionary tale of what awaits chasidic groups if they do not exercise restraint in their involvement with public officials who are determined to win at any cost. Some of what happened is on the record already, as in the remarkable public threats against the chasidim made by Joe Holland, a Republican who had occupied the state Senate seat and who now is a local official. He was explicit in indicating what awaited Rockland’s chasidim if their leaders did not deliver the requisite votes for his designated successor.
Holland has not denied the comments attributed to him, although he has suggested that they were misinterpreted. In more private encounters, political operatives of Gov. Pataki and state Senate Majority Leader Joseph Bruno were brutal in the pressure exerted on the chasidim.
For all of their distinctive qualities and the attention that they get, chasidim are small in number, indeed, a miniscule proportion of even the Jewish electorate. They may seem to be more numerous because they stand out in a crowd and also because they seek out politicians who, in turn, seek their support. In the process, they and the politicians exaggerate the number of votes they have and can deliver. There are dozens of housing projects that have more eligible black or Hispanic voters than there are in entire chasidic groups. Those who doubt the accuracy of this observation are invited to examine election results in such presumed chasidic strongholds as Williamsburg and Crown Heights. Even in their own bailiwicks, their impact is diluted.
But to say that they are small and far less important than is often presumed is not to suggest that they are entirely inconsequential. Chasidim gravitate toward politics and politicians toward them. This is evident in the photo-op visits of yarmulke-bearing candidates to grand rabbis, as well as in the familiar picture of chasidic groupies who hang around political headquarters.
Much of this is quaint, probably childish as well, with little bearing on anything that matters. Chasidim have the satisfaction of seeing attention paid to their leaders, while politicians have the satisfaction of believing that they haven’t left a stone unturned in their quest for votes.
Occasionally, there is a darker side, as the Rockland County story illustrates. In some local races, clusters of voters amounting to no more than several hundred can make a difference, which is why Rockland’s chasidim were sought out and subjected to uncommon pressure. Their small numbers and discrete living patterns ensured that politicians could figure out — literally to the last man and woman — how many of them voted and for whom.
In short, they became prey, and politicians exploited their vulnerability. They had to vote for a specified candidate. Else, there would be a price to pay.
Campaign contributions are another danger spot. This is territory where other ethnic groups have made their ignoble mark, as we know from the recent Chinese experience. American Jews have been deeply involved in political fund raising for decades, giving the impression at times that these contributions are a surrogate for charity.
Chasidim are, at the most, in the minor leagues as political contributors, although here, too, their concentrated numbers and penchant for political involvement result in heightened vulnerability. They are now being pressured for contributions in a way that would have been unthinkable less than decade ago. About three months ago, a prominent person in one of Brooklyn’s chasidic groups came to me to complain that the Giuliani administration was twisting the arm of chasidim, the message being that unless substantial contributions were forthcoming there would be retribution in the form of reduced benefits and support for chasidic projects.
Shortly after, I spoke to a respected Orthodox leader. To my surprise, he confirmed the report of Giuliani administration arm-twisting and then justified it on the ground that since there are limited goodies to be dispersed by City Hall, it is only right that the rewards go to those who have added to the campaign coffers. Unfortunately, there are people, both inside and outside of government, who believe that the kind of behavior engaged in by the Giuliani administration is appropriate, that there is nothing wrong when tiny and vulnerable religious groups are made to feel that their well-being is dependent on campaign contributions.
Small wonder, then, that in recent weeks there was a major Giuliani fund-raiser in Borough Park, as well as a dinner in Manhattan that attracted large numbers of chasidim. It might not seem odd to some that chasidim now contribute inordinately to political candidates. I regard this development as unsettling, even frightening.
(I tried without success on three days to reach Bruce Teitelbaum, a key fund-raiser for Mayor Giuliani and perhaps his primary link with the Jewish community. My aim was to inform him of what I was writing and to ask for his comments.)
I know that the conditions that have forged the unhealthy relationship between the political world and the chasidic world will not at all be affected by my argument that this relationship is rotten to the core. My hope is that there will be a measure of restraint, perhaps from governmental and political officials who understand that the short-term fund-raising gains are likely to result in long-term problems.
More critically, there has to be a feeling of restraint on the chasidic side and on the part of those who connect them with government. The more that chasidim are enveloped in an atmosphere that requires them to dance to the tune of politicians, the greater the likelihood that the ante will be upped. Is it too much to expect chasidic and Orthodox leaders to recognize that abuse begets abuse and that unless the wrongful practices are stopped, substantial damage will be done to significant parts of the religious Jewish community?
Friday, June 04, 1999
Despite Hardships, Orthodox Schools Succeed
(Originally published in the New York Jewish Week)
Education is one of the two key functions of Jewish schools. The other, often more important function is religious socialization, the process whereby young children are taught to understand and accept the principles of our faith. This role transcends courses and curriculum and explains why all who care about Jewish continuity now place so much hope in all-day Jewish schools, institutions that for nearly the entirety of the American Jewish experience were treated as unwanted leftovers of a Jewish past.
If Jewish schools produce graduates who go on to elite colleges and successful careers but who abandon religious commitment, they are failing in their mission. This does not mean that educational performance is to be neglected. It cannot, if only because these are schools, after all, and what they do mostly is impart knowledge and develop intellectual and other skills. Parents would be outraged if schools did not maintain educational standards.
Jewish schools and especially yeshivas confront potent and largely immutable difficulties as they carry out their responsibilities. They have a dual program, which means learning two or three languages, and increased costs. With few exceptions they are badly underfunded, a condition that is reflected throughout the educational program. Libraries, labs and nearly all of the other accoutrements of a good school are often inadequate or even nonexistent. Funds are not available to offer electives to gifted students or provide additional attention to special students. Extracurricular activity can consist of nothing more than recess. On the secular side, the faculty may consist of stringers or unlicensed seminary graduates.
In short, all of the ingredients for educational failure are abundantly on display in Jewish schools. Somehow, though, our schools manage to do a credible job — even more than that, including in the secular area. This is one of the primary findings of an ongoing study I am conducting of yeshiva and day school student performance on standard New York State examinations. The results are uneven, so that girls perform better than boys and students at chasidic schools do not do as well as those who attend elsewhere. There is, as is true of all human contrivances, a measure of failure and more than a little room for improvement. Overall, the record is laudatory.
Why this is so may be a mystery to outsiders who cannot see how a strong performance can emerge in schools that operate under such severe limitations or, more likely, have come to believe the worst about yeshivas. People who are familiar with the workings of our schools, including admissions officials at first-rate colleges and professional schools, know that for all of the time and financial pressures they face, Jewish schools produce exceptional graduates.
One reason for the unexpectedly strong outcome can be summed up in one word: commitment. This is manifested when underpaid teachers, in both religious and secular programs, devote long hours at home to prepare their lessons and find ways of reaching out to students beyond the ordinary classroom experience.
There is a culture of learning and study in Jewish schools that compensates — not entirely, but in large measure — for programmatic and even attitudinal shortcomings. Students in Jewish schools are, in the aggregate, serious-minded. They are less distracted by outside elements and certainly not by the social pathologies that have harmed too many bright students in elite secular schools. When students in Jewish schools set their mind to educational tasks, the outcome invariably is impressive. This affinity for serious study stands yeshiva graduates in good stead when they enter the job market or take graduate and professional training, often after they have concluded their seminary study.
This picture of yeshiva education is not the one we usually get. We are told of corruption, which must be severely criticized and never condoned, in a small number of schools, as if this is the pattern everywhere. We read of writers and people of accomplishment who look back with disdain at their yeshiva education, without any thought being given to the possibility that the skills or discipline acquired during the yeshiva years had anything to do with their later success. Worst of all, we are given a distorted and invariably ugly description of how yeshiva graduates fare financially. They are depicted as parasites when the truth is that nearly all adult Orthodox men, including those who are referred to as haredim, work in a wide range of professions. Many of the women, as well.
The further truth is that despite their hard work, many of these graduates have difficulty making ends meet. Those in communal positions, including teachers, are badly underpaid. Family size is a critical factor, as is the cost of living an observant life — tuition and other expenses. Residual job discrimination takes a toll, as does their nearly total lack of geographical mobility. As a consequence, many of the Orthodox take a second job, wives work (usually part-time), parents help out and there is a measure of reliance by a minority on communal and governmental benefits.
None of this alters the basic picture of hard work or the extraordinary ongoing value of their yeshiva education. Of course, more Orthodox Jews are poorer than the non-Orthodox, but instead of seeing the dignity — indeed the spirituality — of thousands who struggle to make ends meet and each day do their jobs well, their goodness is denigrated, at times by know-nothing writers who employ the mantle of sociology to transmit their bigotry.
I suspect what I write here will have no impact. We are far from the point when the cascades of hatred flowing toward the Orthodox will cease. Still, the effort must be made and the truth must be written. At long last, is there any decency left in our community? Are we incapable of stopping the bigotry?
Education is one of the two key functions of Jewish schools. The other, often more important function is religious socialization, the process whereby young children are taught to understand and accept the principles of our faith. This role transcends courses and curriculum and explains why all who care about Jewish continuity now place so much hope in all-day Jewish schools, institutions that for nearly the entirety of the American Jewish experience were treated as unwanted leftovers of a Jewish past.
If Jewish schools produce graduates who go on to elite colleges and successful careers but who abandon religious commitment, they are failing in their mission. This does not mean that educational performance is to be neglected. It cannot, if only because these are schools, after all, and what they do mostly is impart knowledge and develop intellectual and other skills. Parents would be outraged if schools did not maintain educational standards.
Jewish schools and especially yeshivas confront potent and largely immutable difficulties as they carry out their responsibilities. They have a dual program, which means learning two or three languages, and increased costs. With few exceptions they are badly underfunded, a condition that is reflected throughout the educational program. Libraries, labs and nearly all of the other accoutrements of a good school are often inadequate or even nonexistent. Funds are not available to offer electives to gifted students or provide additional attention to special students. Extracurricular activity can consist of nothing more than recess. On the secular side, the faculty may consist of stringers or unlicensed seminary graduates.
In short, all of the ingredients for educational failure are abundantly on display in Jewish schools. Somehow, though, our schools manage to do a credible job — even more than that, including in the secular area. This is one of the primary findings of an ongoing study I am conducting of yeshiva and day school student performance on standard New York State examinations. The results are uneven, so that girls perform better than boys and students at chasidic schools do not do as well as those who attend elsewhere. There is, as is true of all human contrivances, a measure of failure and more than a little room for improvement. Overall, the record is laudatory.
Why this is so may be a mystery to outsiders who cannot see how a strong performance can emerge in schools that operate under such severe limitations or, more likely, have come to believe the worst about yeshivas. People who are familiar with the workings of our schools, including admissions officials at first-rate colleges and professional schools, know that for all of the time and financial pressures they face, Jewish schools produce exceptional graduates.
One reason for the unexpectedly strong outcome can be summed up in one word: commitment. This is manifested when underpaid teachers, in both religious and secular programs, devote long hours at home to prepare their lessons and find ways of reaching out to students beyond the ordinary classroom experience.
There is a culture of learning and study in Jewish schools that compensates — not entirely, but in large measure — for programmatic and even attitudinal shortcomings. Students in Jewish schools are, in the aggregate, serious-minded. They are less distracted by outside elements and certainly not by the social pathologies that have harmed too many bright students in elite secular schools. When students in Jewish schools set their mind to educational tasks, the outcome invariably is impressive. This affinity for serious study stands yeshiva graduates in good stead when they enter the job market or take graduate and professional training, often after they have concluded their seminary study.
This picture of yeshiva education is not the one we usually get. We are told of corruption, which must be severely criticized and never condoned, in a small number of schools, as if this is the pattern everywhere. We read of writers and people of accomplishment who look back with disdain at their yeshiva education, without any thought being given to the possibility that the skills or discipline acquired during the yeshiva years had anything to do with their later success. Worst of all, we are given a distorted and invariably ugly description of how yeshiva graduates fare financially. They are depicted as parasites when the truth is that nearly all adult Orthodox men, including those who are referred to as haredim, work in a wide range of professions. Many of the women, as well.
The further truth is that despite their hard work, many of these graduates have difficulty making ends meet. Those in communal positions, including teachers, are badly underpaid. Family size is a critical factor, as is the cost of living an observant life — tuition and other expenses. Residual job discrimination takes a toll, as does their nearly total lack of geographical mobility. As a consequence, many of the Orthodox take a second job, wives work (usually part-time), parents help out and there is a measure of reliance by a minority on communal and governmental benefits.
None of this alters the basic picture of hard work or the extraordinary ongoing value of their yeshiva education. Of course, more Orthodox Jews are poorer than the non-Orthodox, but instead of seeing the dignity — indeed the spirituality — of thousands who struggle to make ends meet and each day do their jobs well, their goodness is denigrated, at times by know-nothing writers who employ the mantle of sociology to transmit their bigotry.
I suspect what I write here will have no impact. We are far from the point when the cascades of hatred flowing toward the Orthodox will cease. Still, the effort must be made and the truth must be written. At long last, is there any decency left in our community? Are we incapable of stopping the bigotry?
Tuesday, June 01, 1999
Birthright
(Originally published in the Jewish Week in 1999)
It is easy to jab at Birthright Israel, the plan to promote Jewish continuity by providing a brief Israel experience to Jewish youth who haven’t been to the Jewish state. Charles R. Bronfman and Michael H. Steinhardt are marketing an idea in search of a program. What we have so far is a catchy slogan, good public relations and the old and odd notion favored by philanthropists that throwing lots of money after a problem is the best way to resolve it. We have, in short, the key ingredients for success in the contemporary period, success being determined by the ability to attract attention. The announcement of the program and its promotion are the program.
Just the same, Birthright needs to be given a chance, even though what we know about its particulars inspires little confidence in its efficacy. Every continuity initiative confronts daunting odds because of the powerful assimilatory forces that have directly resulted in so much Jewish loss. These elements are active in the lives of nearly all Diaspora Jews and they are not going to disappear because world Jewry now feels endangered and is taking steps, mainly feeble and belated, to promote Jewish identity. All that is being done in the name of continuity is today inherently tenuous and tentative, even experimental. This holds true even for many day schools and while I have been one of their most enthusiastic advocates, I know that their reach is limited because the families that are being attracted to them are Jews at risk.
Israel experiences are a legitimate means of advancing continuity. If Birthright is not oversold, if the religious factor is not deliberately downplayed and if its key people are willing to make adjustments, some good will come from the venture. Under the present plan, eligible youth will be offered a round-trip ticket and funds for a brief stay, typically ten days, that hopefully will be a learning or cultural experience which whets the appetite for greater involvement in Israel and/or Jewish communal life. Those who choose to stay longer will be responsible for any additional costs.
It is expected – and almost certainly this will be the case – that the typical trip will fit into school schedules, primarily the flow of campus life. Even the most ardent votaries of Israel experiences recognize that ten days can hardly counteract the corrosive impact of thousands of prior days of assimilatory relationships that have impelled so many away from Jewish commitment.
The assumption, probably correct, is that thousands of teen-age and college-age Jews will not look a gift horse in the mouth. Birthright’s offer will be accepted, which raises the critical question of what these youngsters are likely to do when they arrive in Israel. There is also the collateral question of whether Israeli institutional and organizational life has the additional capacity to serve the expected influx. While Michael Papo, the project’s president, told me in a useful telephone conversation that there already is unused capacity to accommodate additional young foreigners, I think it unlikely that there are or will be facilities and programs for the thousands who may accept the opportunity.
The problem is illustrated by Livnot Ul’hibanot, a Jerusalem and Safed-based program that has a good track record with American college students of a secular orientation. Presently, Livnot enrolls perhaps as many as two hundred participants a year in its three-week program that combine work and study. I doubt that it can expand its reach quickly or that it would be desirable to do so, lest it weaken its effectiveness.
Birthright apparently accepts the notion that money is the primary inducement. In the words of its promotional material, “money is not the only issue but it is a central one.” The flip side is that the lack of funds is the main deterrent. In fact, surveys including the 1990 NJPS, provide strong evidence that funding is scarcely the issue. In the main, Jews do not visit Israel because they are not particularly interested in Israel. In nearly all of their contemporary places of settlement, Jews are quite affluent and Jewish youth by the many tens of thousands each year are able to find the means to traipse to exotic and mundane places, from the Himalayas to Fort Lauderdale. They do not, in the aggregate, put Israel on their itinerary because the Jewish state does not resonate in their lives. It is also of note that the Orthodox, by far the least affluent of Jews, come to Israel in droves.
There will be Jews who make the visit because of the Birthright opportunity and this may well be salutary. But by targeting the first-timers, emphasizing the quick-fix aspect of the experience and reaching out to Jews who are scarcely, if at all, involved in Jewish life, Birthright may be foregoing the opportunity to make a more lasting contribution.
Jewish youth everywhere outside of Israel are Jews at risk, a status that is shared, perhaps not equally, by young Jews who already are engaged in communal life through synagogues, day schools, community centers, youth groups or in any of a number of other ways. These Jews have opportunities aplenty to go to Israel, whether with their parents or alone or with school groups or as participants in the March for the Living and other projects. In the U.S., most Federations provide subsidies for Israel experiences and the expanding world of private Jewish philanthropy is especially keen about including Israel programming in their repertoire of activities. Community-sponsored and subsidized Israel experiences have become a big business, so that Birthright Israel can hardly claim to be operating on virgin territory.
It’s a good bet that the presumed success of these ventures has contributed to the belief that this is the primary way to reach out to the young and unaffiliated. The Bronfman Foundation has been in the forefront of the Israel experience movement. Evaluations of these activities present a rosy picture of what can be achieved through a relatively brief stay in the Jewish state. I have read several of these and they tend toward an excess of self-praise which is off-putting and can scarcely pass as serious scholarship.
Their major deficiency goes to the heart of what is errant in the conceptualization of Birthright Israel. The evaluations, perhaps out of necessity, are conducted shortly after the experience has been concluded, which means that they at best measure short-term impact when the respondents are still enveloped in the aura of the experience. This is notably true of the claims made by March for the Living, a rather new initiative whose life-span does not yet allow an assessment of long-term impact.
March for the Living is aimed at high school students, a great number of whom happen to be in a Jewish school, an environment that presumably strengthens their Jewish commitment. When they return from Israel and Poland where they visit Auschwitz and other death camps, their understandable response is to say that they have been profoundly affected by the experience. This response is truthful, yet it begs the question, for when the high school years are concluded, the next phase in the formative process for these students is the college campus, an environment that is universally regarded as a disaster area for Jewish life.
Because Jewish youth who have been to Israel and those who have not are nearly all Jews at risk, their lives will inevitably be affected, perhaps permanently shaped, by powerful and inescapable assimilatory forces. If the goal of Birthright is to enhance the prospect for meaningful Jewish continuity, it makes sense to use Israel as the instrumentality for Jewish reinforcement among those who might make the best use of the opportunity. In economic and programmatic terms, the greatest benefit may be derived from concentrating Birthright’s resources on young marginal Jews who have been to Israel, thereby strengthening a commitment that while already evident is certain to be severely challenged.
This point was acknowledged, in a way by Michael Papo who indicated that studies show that a follow-up or second trip cements the relationship with Israel and forces a deep sense of Jewish peoplehood. It may be that because Birthright’s resources are limited, preference is being given to those who have not been to Israel. But it also may be the case that the emphasis on the first-timers arises from a desire to reach out to unaffiliated Jews rather than to those who are affiliated. This would be a serious mistake.
Because of the severely weakened state of Diaspora Jewry, the success of initiatives to encourage Jewish commitment depends on whether they are linked to other activities that promote the same goal. Birthright can reinforce the progress achieved through meaningful Jewish education and youth groups; in turn, it needs to be reinforced by collateral activities in other zones of communal life. It cannot be regarded as a stand-alone venture.
Nor should its sponsors be intoxicated by its immodest claim, “This journey lasts a life-time.” There are tens of thousands of Jews who have been to Israel whose Jewish commitment, even in secular form, is gone with the wind and for whom Israel is scarcely more meaningful than Timbuktu.
A trip to Israel is not the birthright of a Jew, although identity with Israel is, a point that is powerfully demonstrated by nearly 2,000 years of our history. The birthright or heritage or legacy bequeathed to us by previous generations was religious at its core. It was this religious sensibility that kept Israel alive in the imagination and prayers and therefore also in the lives of Jews who never stepped foot on the Holy Land, nor had even the slightest prospect of going there. Only as a consequence of our religious identity can we claim Israel as a birthright and only if it is able to foster a religious commitment can Birthright Israel claim to be promoting Jewish continuity.
It is easy to jab at Birthright Israel, the plan to promote Jewish continuity by providing a brief Israel experience to Jewish youth who haven’t been to the Jewish state. Charles R. Bronfman and Michael H. Steinhardt are marketing an idea in search of a program. What we have so far is a catchy slogan, good public relations and the old and odd notion favored by philanthropists that throwing lots of money after a problem is the best way to resolve it. We have, in short, the key ingredients for success in the contemporary period, success being determined by the ability to attract attention. The announcement of the program and its promotion are the program.
Just the same, Birthright needs to be given a chance, even though what we know about its particulars inspires little confidence in its efficacy. Every continuity initiative confronts daunting odds because of the powerful assimilatory forces that have directly resulted in so much Jewish loss. These elements are active in the lives of nearly all Diaspora Jews and they are not going to disappear because world Jewry now feels endangered and is taking steps, mainly feeble and belated, to promote Jewish identity. All that is being done in the name of continuity is today inherently tenuous and tentative, even experimental. This holds true even for many day schools and while I have been one of their most enthusiastic advocates, I know that their reach is limited because the families that are being attracted to them are Jews at risk.
Israel experiences are a legitimate means of advancing continuity. If Birthright is not oversold, if the religious factor is not deliberately downplayed and if its key people are willing to make adjustments, some good will come from the venture. Under the present plan, eligible youth will be offered a round-trip ticket and funds for a brief stay, typically ten days, that hopefully will be a learning or cultural experience which whets the appetite for greater involvement in Israel and/or Jewish communal life. Those who choose to stay longer will be responsible for any additional costs.
It is expected – and almost certainly this will be the case – that the typical trip will fit into school schedules, primarily the flow of campus life. Even the most ardent votaries of Israel experiences recognize that ten days can hardly counteract the corrosive impact of thousands of prior days of assimilatory relationships that have impelled so many away from Jewish commitment.
The assumption, probably correct, is that thousands of teen-age and college-age Jews will not look a gift horse in the mouth. Birthright’s offer will be accepted, which raises the critical question of what these youngsters are likely to do when they arrive in Israel. There is also the collateral question of whether Israeli institutional and organizational life has the additional capacity to serve the expected influx. While Michael Papo, the project’s president, told me in a useful telephone conversation that there already is unused capacity to accommodate additional young foreigners, I think it unlikely that there are or will be facilities and programs for the thousands who may accept the opportunity.
The problem is illustrated by Livnot Ul’hibanot, a Jerusalem and Safed-based program that has a good track record with American college students of a secular orientation. Presently, Livnot enrolls perhaps as many as two hundred participants a year in its three-week program that combine work and study. I doubt that it can expand its reach quickly or that it would be desirable to do so, lest it weaken its effectiveness.
Birthright apparently accepts the notion that money is the primary inducement. In the words of its promotional material, “money is not the only issue but it is a central one.” The flip side is that the lack of funds is the main deterrent. In fact, surveys including the 1990 NJPS, provide strong evidence that funding is scarcely the issue. In the main, Jews do not visit Israel because they are not particularly interested in Israel. In nearly all of their contemporary places of settlement, Jews are quite affluent and Jewish youth by the many tens of thousands each year are able to find the means to traipse to exotic and mundane places, from the Himalayas to Fort Lauderdale. They do not, in the aggregate, put Israel on their itinerary because the Jewish state does not resonate in their lives. It is also of note that the Orthodox, by far the least affluent of Jews, come to Israel in droves.
There will be Jews who make the visit because of the Birthright opportunity and this may well be salutary. But by targeting the first-timers, emphasizing the quick-fix aspect of the experience and reaching out to Jews who are scarcely, if at all, involved in Jewish life, Birthright may be foregoing the opportunity to make a more lasting contribution.
Jewish youth everywhere outside of Israel are Jews at risk, a status that is shared, perhaps not equally, by young Jews who already are engaged in communal life through synagogues, day schools, community centers, youth groups or in any of a number of other ways. These Jews have opportunities aplenty to go to Israel, whether with their parents or alone or with school groups or as participants in the March for the Living and other projects. In the U.S., most Federations provide subsidies for Israel experiences and the expanding world of private Jewish philanthropy is especially keen about including Israel programming in their repertoire of activities. Community-sponsored and subsidized Israel experiences have become a big business, so that Birthright Israel can hardly claim to be operating on virgin territory.
It’s a good bet that the presumed success of these ventures has contributed to the belief that this is the primary way to reach out to the young and unaffiliated. The Bronfman Foundation has been in the forefront of the Israel experience movement. Evaluations of these activities present a rosy picture of what can be achieved through a relatively brief stay in the Jewish state. I have read several of these and they tend toward an excess of self-praise which is off-putting and can scarcely pass as serious scholarship.
Their major deficiency goes to the heart of what is errant in the conceptualization of Birthright Israel. The evaluations, perhaps out of necessity, are conducted shortly after the experience has been concluded, which means that they at best measure short-term impact when the respondents are still enveloped in the aura of the experience. This is notably true of the claims made by March for the Living, a rather new initiative whose life-span does not yet allow an assessment of long-term impact.
March for the Living is aimed at high school students, a great number of whom happen to be in a Jewish school, an environment that presumably strengthens their Jewish commitment. When they return from Israel and Poland where they visit Auschwitz and other death camps, their understandable response is to say that they have been profoundly affected by the experience. This response is truthful, yet it begs the question, for when the high school years are concluded, the next phase in the formative process for these students is the college campus, an environment that is universally regarded as a disaster area for Jewish life.
Because Jewish youth who have been to Israel and those who have not are nearly all Jews at risk, their lives will inevitably be affected, perhaps permanently shaped, by powerful and inescapable assimilatory forces. If the goal of Birthright is to enhance the prospect for meaningful Jewish continuity, it makes sense to use Israel as the instrumentality for Jewish reinforcement among those who might make the best use of the opportunity. In economic and programmatic terms, the greatest benefit may be derived from concentrating Birthright’s resources on young marginal Jews who have been to Israel, thereby strengthening a commitment that while already evident is certain to be severely challenged.
This point was acknowledged, in a way by Michael Papo who indicated that studies show that a follow-up or second trip cements the relationship with Israel and forces a deep sense of Jewish peoplehood. It may be that because Birthright’s resources are limited, preference is being given to those who have not been to Israel. But it also may be the case that the emphasis on the first-timers arises from a desire to reach out to unaffiliated Jews rather than to those who are affiliated. This would be a serious mistake.
Because of the severely weakened state of Diaspora Jewry, the success of initiatives to encourage Jewish commitment depends on whether they are linked to other activities that promote the same goal. Birthright can reinforce the progress achieved through meaningful Jewish education and youth groups; in turn, it needs to be reinforced by collateral activities in other zones of communal life. It cannot be regarded as a stand-alone venture.
Nor should its sponsors be intoxicated by its immodest claim, “This journey lasts a life-time.” There are tens of thousands of Jews who have been to Israel whose Jewish commitment, even in secular form, is gone with the wind and for whom Israel is scarcely more meaningful than Timbuktu.
A trip to Israel is not the birthright of a Jew, although identity with Israel is, a point that is powerfully demonstrated by nearly 2,000 years of our history. The birthright or heritage or legacy bequeathed to us by previous generations was religious at its core. It was this religious sensibility that kept Israel alive in the imagination and prayers and therefore also in the lives of Jews who never stepped foot on the Holy Land, nor had even the slightest prospect of going there. Only as a consequence of our religious identity can we claim Israel as a birthright and only if it is able to foster a religious commitment can Birthright Israel claim to be promoting Jewish continuity.
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