Disappointment is a Risk Worth Taking

These days, many Jews feel alone, sensing that they have been abandoned by allies. One could muster ample evidence supporting this belief, including a recent Cincinnati “interfaith peace vigil” for Gaza which opted not to include any local Jewish voices. Admittedly, such missteps are clear cause for disappointment. Nevertheless, in many respects, Jews today have more partners than we have had almost ever before.

Historically, Jews were cut off from the rest of society. We lived in shtetls and ghettos, wore distinctive dress (often against our will), couldn’t conduct business with non-Jews, and more. Effectively, we didn’t have meaningful relationships with those who didn’t look like, believe, or practice as us (however we looked, believed, or practiced in a given time or place). Today, that is not the case.

The irony of our position is that our disappointment is only possible because we have allies, and allies sometimes let you down.

In this context, I think we should accept that we suffer not from a dearth of allies, but from our allies’ difficulty in understanding us and our needs. Judaism defies Western and Christian-centric models of “religion” which essentially equate religion with “faith.” And, in failing to understand Jews as a people, a great many non-Jews—even friends—struggle to understand. Our identities and values, especially when it comes to Israel, can be hard for them to grasp.

Amongst other things, we must acknowledge that the average non-Jew doesn’t have a particularly detailed understanding of Israeli (and Middle Eastern) history. Likewise, they have no reason to have a nuanced understanding of Zionism—which makes them susceptible to smear campaigns attempting to redefine and misappropriate the word. Even phrases like “from the River to the Sea”—which to Jews may seem obviously like a call for genocide of our family and friends—can seem righteous if you have only a cursory understanding of Jewish, Israeli, and Palestinian culture and history.

In earlier days, none of this would have been a problem. We may have had enemies, but we wouldn’t have had allies, and we wouldn’t have had such cause for disappointment. The Maccabees, for instance, likely didn't spend much time trying to help Greeks or Idumeans understand what the Jews were going through!

Given the alternative, I think having allies in whom we can be disappointed is a risk worth taking. It may be hard to appreciate it from the eye of the storm, but we’re in the vicinity of success: We aren't lonely because we don't have allies. We're lonely because we do.