David J. Butler
The Jewish community does not need a new list of allies. It needs a new standard for choosing them.
That realization lies beneath Arno Rosenfeld’s thoughtful farewell essay in the Forward, reflecting on nearly six years covering antisemitism. Rosenfeld argued that retreat is not the answer. Jews are too small a community to isolate themselves from the broader society. Our security has always depended on engagement, not withdrawal.
He is right. But the experience of the past several years suggests that engagement itself must change.
For generations, American Jews asked a familiar question: Who are our allies? Increasingly, we need to ask a harder one: Who will defend the principles that protect us when doing so is politically inconvenient? Those are not the same question.
Jewish organizations have traditionally built relationships around shared political priorities and common causes. That made sense when political coalitions also rested on a broad consensus about the rules of American democracy: equal citizenship, religious liberty, free expression, peaceful political disagreement and the rule of law. Those assumptions can no longer be taken for granted.
On parts of the political left, Jews increasingly find themselves judged through the lens of Israel rather than as fellow citizens entitled to the same protections and sympathies afforded other minorities. On parts of the political right, ancient conspiracies about Jewish influence have found new audiences and increasingly respectable platforms.
Oct. 7 did not create that reality. It exposed it. For many American Jews, the deepest disappointment was not criticism of Israel. Democracies require room for vigorous disagreement. It was discovering that some people and organizations long regarded as partners could not acknowledge Jewish suffering without qualification, contextualization or an immediate change of subject. That was a revealing test. Some failed it.
But nearly three years later, we should recognize that Oct. 7 also exposed weaknesses in our own understanding of alliance. We sometimes confused political agreement with friendship. At other times, we treated support for Israel as sufficient evidence of friendship. Neither is a reliable standard.
The answer is not to abandon the left and embrace the right, or vice versa. Antisemitism does not become less dangerous because it comes wrapped in a political ideology we otherwise favor. No political movement should be certified wholesale as a Jewish ally.
People and institutions should earn that designation. The first test is disagreement. An ally need not support every Israeli government or every Israeli policy. Indeed, an alliance that requires agreement is not much of an alliance. The more meaningful question is whether disagreement with Israel changes someone’s willingness to defend the rights, dignity and safety of Jews.
Criticize Israel. Protest its policies. Argue passionately about Gaza, settlements or Palestinian statehood. But if those disagreements suddenly make intimidation of Jewish students understandable, disruption of Jewish religious life tolerable or antisemitic rhetoric excusable, something more than political disagreement is taking place.
The second test is inconvenience. It costs a progressive little to condemn antisemitism from neo-Nazis. It costs a conservative little to condemn antisemitism from radical anti-Israel activists. The real test comes when antisemitism emerges from one’s own political camp.
Will progressive leaders confront it among progressive activists? Will conservative leaders challenge conspiracy theories and anti-Jewish rhetoric among conservative influencers? Will university administrators defend Jewish students when doing so brings protests rather than praise?
Principle matters most when it carries a price. That should reshape Jewish coalition-building. We should broaden our relationships — not because old friends no longer matter, but because no political faction has a monopoly on the principles we need defended. Religious communities, civil rights organizations, universities, businesses, civic groups and public officials should all be potential partners when their conduct demonstrates a commitment to equal citizenship, religious liberty and the rule of law.
But there is a third test, and it may be the hardest. Reciprocity.
If we expect others to defend Jewish religious liberty, we must defend theirs. If we reject collective blame directed at Jews, we must reject it when it is directed at Muslims, Christians or any other religious group or minority. If we insist that Jewish students should not be held responsible for decisions made by Israel, we cannot hold American Muslims responsible for the conduct of governments or movements abroad.
The constitutional protections that safeguard Jewish life cannot become principles we invoke only when Jews need them. That is not simply moral consistency. It is enlightened Jewish self-interest.
American Jews have flourished not because we found one permanently friendly political coalition, but because America developed a civic culture in which minority rights did not depend entirely upon which faction held power. Our safety ultimately rests less on having the right friends in power than on preserving rules that protect everyone when the wrong people are in power.
That is why the search for allies matters so much — and why we should be more discriminating about the word. An ally is not someone who promises always to agree with us. An ally is someone whose commitment to our rights survives disagreement with us.
And the alternative to retreat is not indiscriminate friendship. It is discriminating friendship: relationships broad enough to cross political lines but strong enough to survive political disagreement.
American Jews should seek people who understand that disagreement with Jews never diminishes the rights of Jews. And if we expect that commitment from others, we must offer precisely the same commitment in return. That is a harder standard than ordinary coalition politics. It is also a more durable one.
The question is no longer simply: Who stands with us? It is: Who still stands with us when standing with us costs something?
David J. Butler is an attorney. He is president of Dvash Consulting, LLC and a member of the ownership group of Mid-Atlantic Media, which owns and publishes Washington Jewish Week.
