Penning a column due to be published on America’s semi-quincentennial is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, so I better do a darn good job, right? As an American turned dual American-Israeli citizen, I see America’s 250th birthday as an opportunity to reflect on some of the values implanted within me growing up. One of those is dialogue across divides, or sharing friendship despite different communal, political or religious affiliations.
Israel certainly has a lot to learn on this front and, quite frankly, today’s America has a lot to learn from the America of my youth.
Much ink has been spilled on fraying Israel-Diaspora relations, fraying political support for Israel and fraying Jewish inter-denominational relations. I don’t lay claim to macro-level solutions, but on the micro level perhaps some food and wine can help.
The Free Press recently launched a fantastic initiative, dubbed Free Press Suppers. The idea is to bring strangers around a dinner table, including people with different political persuasions yet a shared commitment to America’s foundational values. The idea is to provide an opportunity to discuss, debate and bond. Yes, to provide a bonding experience, despite their differences. Even a kosher-observant Jew can join for drinks, though admittedly that would require a high dose of self-confidence. (The Free Press gladly takes restaurant recommendations, so perhaps the next one can even be at a kosher eatery.)
For those for whom a Free Press Supper is too ambitious, the same goal can be accomplished in different ways. Perhaps, attend the annual dinner of a local day school you would never send your kids to, or attend a brunch put on by a Jewish organization whose politics you disagree with. Find an organization whose views on Israel concern you and attend one of their events or, alternatively, attend a local non-Jewish event. In all these scenarios, enter with curiosity, a listening ear, an open heart.
Personal attacks are not OK, but questions, even difficult questions, are legitimate. Leave defensiveness, criticism and righteous indignation at the door. Not because your values are unimportant; by all means, before you walk in and when you return home, clarify your beliefs. But before attending such an event, challenge yourself to find three values you share with the other attendees, and reflect on how those values can bond you.
The value in attending such an event need not be to persuade, nor to be persuaded, but to bond over whichever values are shared, notwithstanding differences in other areas. Unity does not require uniformity.
Clean Speech Colorado has made wonderful strides in bridging different elements of the local community around a shared ethical value. We are far away from November, but that’s no reason not to revisit Clean Speech’s teachings or, better yet, to visit someone we met via Clean Speech programming.
It is frequently said that anti-Zionism today is equivalent to anti-Semitism. I would agree. When that claim is made, however, it is typically accompanied by a disclaimer that criticism of Israel or its government is legitimate. How are we faring in that regard? Are we actually open to hearing criticism of Israel? I sense a recent tendency in the public square to reflexively brand Israel critics — or even questioners of Israel policy—as anti-Israel, anti-Semitic, or self-hating Jews.
At times, these labels are thrown even at those with a long history of pro-Israel sentiment. For me, the line is drawn for anyone who calls for harm against Jews, the dissolution of Israel (which equates with harm against eight million Jews), or supports those who do. Such rhetoric must be called out. But short of that, is slapping on such labels called for? At the very least, on a pragmatic and strategic level, it is counterproductive.
I live in Judea and Samaria, yet I know there are those who would never live here. Are they self-hating Jews? Anti-Semitic? No. In fact, many such people are deeply committed to Jewish practice or to broader Israel in various forms.
In times of crisis, it is only natural that we circle the wagons, becoming increasingly anxious and ideologically rigid. Yet, reality is complex; after all, over half of the Israeli electorate will not be voting for Bibi or his supporters this fall. Granted, too frequently, critics take the step of withdrawing support altogether. This is a symptom of the extremism that plagues society today. But criticism itself is not only legitimate, it is critical to a healthy society.
Some divides will remain unbridgeable—one cannot live in peace with those who want you dead. Yet many other bridges are waiting to be built.
If we can engage with those who differ with us, listen — really listen — to their criticisms of our views, and nonetheless affirm our common brotherhood, we can help mend the fraying fabric of the Jewish community and society at large.
© IJN 2026
