Jews and Americans: from symbiosis to existential doubt

How are American Jews experiencing the current political situation, in which their attachment to Israel, the democratic norms of their own country, and the security they believed they enjoyed in the face of antisemitism are all being called into question? For Sébastien Lévi, they are caught between Trump’s hammer and the anti-Zionist anvil – a divide foreshadowing the political reconfigurations and struggles to come.

 

 

As a non-religious French Jew and liberal Zionist, I have always seen the United States as the promised land of my Jewishness, due to the low level of antisemitism combined with a more political and cultural than religious view of Jewish life. My American dream has always included a Jewish dimension, and when I became an American citizen in November 2022, I was almost as moved to also become an American Jew. So today I ask myself: With antisemitism on the rise in the United States, particularly since October 7, with the State of Israel they love becoming unrecognizable day by day under the blows of religious obscurantism and nationalist extremism, and with the American democracy that has protected them buckling under Trump’s attacks, where do American Jews stand?

Tikkun Olam, the 11th commandment of American Jews

There are approximately 7 million Jews in the United States, out of a population of 350 million Americans, or 2% of the population (compared to 500,000 in France out of a population of 70 million, or 0.7%), highly concentrated in certain cities such as New York, Miami, Los Angeles, and Chicago. The American Jewish community grew particularly rapidly between 1880 and 1900 (from 200,000 to 1 million), then from 1 million to 4 million between 1900 and 1930 (pogroms in Eastern Europe), and finally from 6 million to 7 million since 1990 and the fall of the USSR. Approximately 95% of American Jews are Ashkenazi, while 70% of French Jews are Sephardic. But it is in other areas that the difference is noticeable, even spectacular, reflecting the differences in social models between France and the United States.

Although France and the United States granted their Jews protection and equal rights at around the same time, at the end of the 18th century, there is a significant difference between these two emancipations, centred on the concept of secularism. This was theorized in the famous words of Clermont Tonnerre: “Everything must be refused to the Jews as a nation and everything granted to the Jews as individuals. They must not form a political body or an order within the state. They must be citizens individually.” This quote remains deeply misunderstood in the United States, where it is perceived not as individual fulfillment but as collective punishment, even state racism. This is a profound misunderstanding that emerges every time there is an event related to secularism in France, such as the 2004 law on religious symbols.

While attachment to Judaism is a private matter in France, with respect for traditions and commandments as its matrix, it is much more public and open to society in the United States, and since commandments and tradition are not at the center of everything, it is easier to reinterpret them, reappropriate them, and adapt them to modernity. This may explain why Orthodox Judaism is the only officially recognized form of Judaism in France, and also comprises the majority of the community, unlike in the United States, where the majority is either liberal or conservative (Massortim), with a freer or more modern approach to worship and liturgy, and a shift in practice in line with changes in society, for example in terms of gender equality.

The family and religious spheres are the two main poles of Jewish life in France, whereas the expression of Jewishness is much more public in the United States. This difference explains the very different relationship to politics and activism in the two countries’ Jewish communities.

This direct link with society is at the heart of American Judaism, and it both explains and enables its presence in the public sphere.

Since religion is a social and public fact in the United States, it is hardly surprising that its expression has a political significance that goes beyond the simple framework of the synagogue, being not only tolerated but encouraged. It is therefore notable that the “Jewish fact” has penetrated so strongly into popular culture in the United States, even into the language. Hanukkah is a holiday known to all, as is Rosh Hashanah. The days of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are holidays in major American cities. Words such as “Chutzpah/Mensch/Mazal Tov/ Lechaim/ Oy vey“ have entered everyday language. This does not mean that antisemitism is absent, far from it, but the Jewish fact is very present, including in the public sphere and in popular culture. For example, the series ”Seinfeld,“ which is deeply ”Jewish New York,” was the most popular series in the United States during the 1990s.

The situation is very different in France, where the Jacobin model makes such linguistic or cultural influences more difficult. Jewishness is largely confined to the private sphere, so its presence in the public sphere is naturally reduced. Jewish holidays are not mentioned in most calendars in the country, and Jewish politicians are not identified as such or claim their identity only rarely or not at all. There is no antisemitism in this reality, but rather a consequence of French secularism. The family and religious spheres are the two main poles of Jewish life in France, whereas the expression of Jewishness is much more public in the United States. This difference explains the very different relationship to politics and activism in the two countries for their Jewish communities. When Merrick Garland and Tony Blinken were appointed Secretary of Justice and Secretary of State in Biden’s administration, they spoke at length about their Jewishness during their Senate confirmation hearings, describing it as an integral part of who they are, but also of their political identity, with “Tikkun Olam” (repairing the world) as the foundation of their commitment.

For many American Jews, living their Judaism therefore often goes beyond observing the commandments, but includes a political dimension, with a central and even founding principle: Tikkun Olam. Although this is not found in the Torah, it appears in the Talmud and serves as a unifying principle of good and justice to be brought about during one’s existence on earth. Tikkun Olam nourishes a sense of belonging to the American nation through Judaism and strengthens Jewish identity through American identity. One is not simply Jewish and American, one is Jewish because one is American, and American because one is Jewish.

The fight against obscurantism and past discrimination becomes a powerful driving force for identity. We express our Judaism by remembering the discrimination we have suffered as Jews and by fighting against new forms of discrimination. It is in this context that we can understand the strong involvement of American Jews in the civil rights movement, which became a “Jewish struggle” even though Jews were not “directly” affected by this cause. The latter is an integral part of the American Jewish imagination and remains a source of great pride. The image of Rabbi Heshel standing side by side with Martin Luther King in Selma, Alabama, King’s multiple references to Passover as a universal celebration of freedom, and his attachment to Israel are seen as a golden age, and all these elements explain in many ways why, despite recent tensions, the political ties between Blacks and Jews remain strong, and why these two communities remain the Democratic Party’s strongest supporters today.

There is obviously an element of myth in this description, but personally, as a non-practicing Jew, this common struggle and, more broadly, this approach to Jewishness have always fascinated me, because they allow one not only to “be” Jewish, but to “live” this identity, acting every day, almost like an Israeli who lives his Jewishness daily in Israel by contributing to the building of a Jewish state.

A deep attachment to Israel, but critical when necessary

While the experiences of American Jews and Israeli Jews remain very different despite the commonalities highlighted above, what about the relationship of American Jews to the State of Israel today?

According to the Pew Research Center, 80% of American Jews consider Israel to be an integral part of their Jewish identity, and their attachment to the country is undeniable. However, this attachment does not prevent them from speaking out against government measures they disagree with, whereas such statements are much rarer, if not absent, among French Jews (we will return to this later).

First of all, 80% of American Jews are not Orthodox, and a significant proportion of them are not even considered Jewish by the rabbinate in Israel, which is controlled by the Orthodox establishment. The latter, supported by the ultra-Orthodox parties in the Knesset (and Netanyahu’s main allies), continues to ostracize liberal or Massortim American Jews, who do not hesitate to speak out publicly against the religious institutions of the State of Israel.

Furthermore, the political nature of American Judaism, unlike the more community-based vision of French Judaism, explains the propensity of American Jews to criticize the Israeli government when its policies do not align with their own views. In a more community-based approach, it is more difficult and less natural to raise a dissenting voice. It is therefore more common to hear the expression “we wash our dirty laundry in private” in a French Jewish context, where the community aspect takes precedence over potential political differences. Furthermore, public expression as Jews is less common in the French secular context, and this touches on an absolutely essential element of French Jews’ reluctance to speak out “as Jews”.

Given that the struggle for civil rights is a strong marker of American Jewish identity, it is understandable that the democratic flaws of the Israeli model and the occupation of the territories are painful subjects for them, despite or even because of their very strong attachment to Israel. The current evolution of Israel makes this critical discourse almost inevitable, with Benjamin Netanyahu as the paradoxical embodiment of this growing distance between American Jews and Israel.

Netanyahu is undoubtedly the most American of all Israeli prime ministers, having spent many years in the United States as a teenager and then starting his professional life there, first in the furniture business and then as a diplomat. This intimate knowledge of American society and American Jews could have led him to nurture and strengthen ties with them, but the opposite has happened. In fact, it is precisely his knowledge of American Jews that leads him to see them as a lost cause, a community too liberal to embrace his own vision of Israel and the country’s place in the world, and moreover doomed to extinction through assimilation. Very early on, he therefore preferred to cultivate relations with evangelical Christians, in a purely transactional approach.

Zionists in their vast majority, most American Jews feel that the Israeli prime minister has turned his back on them by forging political alliances in the United States, but also within Israel, which they see as a betrayal.

For evangelical Christians, it is important that Jews populate the Land of Israel, including and especially Judea and Samaria or the West Bank, as the mass return of Jews to Eretz Israel is a necessary condition for the return of Christ to Earth. The Jews will then be faced with a radical choice: conversion to Christianity or death. In other words, the Jews are the useful idiots of this messianic vision, but Netanyahu does not care. As long as he can count on their support, particularly in his desire to prevent the creation of a Palestinian state, it is worth the risk. From his point of view, evangelical Christians are his own useful idiots, which is exactly the kind of human and political relationship Netanyahu likes.

For American Jews, this alliance is a stab in the back, because these allies of the State of Israel are their staunch opponents, with whom they are ideologically opposed, but also on a religious level. Zionists in their vast majority, most American Jews feel that the Israeli prime minister has turned his back on them by forging political alliances in the United States, but also within Israel, which they see as a betrayal. According to a CGAO poll of American Jews conducted around last November’s presidential election, the favorable/unfavorable ratio toward Netanyahu is 32/63 (compared to 69/30 for Kamala Harris and 28/71 for Donald Trump).

Religiously liberal, with many children from mixed marriages, American Jews are mostly “open” about their Jewish heritage and belonging to the Jewish people, and they place gender equality at the heart of their doctrine, which runs counter to all the principles professed by the Haredi parties in Israel. Politically and in terms of values, the Tikkun Olam to which they subscribe requires them to defend an ideal of universal justice, including minority and gay rights, and to reject the occupation of the Palestinian territories. They therefore view Netanyahu’s political allies in Israel with horror, from the strictness of the Haredim to the messianic and racist ideology of Smotrich or Ben Gvir, who are absolute repellents and strongly rejected.

While American Jews try to differentiate as much as possible between the State of Israel and its government, it is difficult for them to do so completely, particularly for young people who have only known Netanyahu in power and for whom the embodiment of Israel is reducible to Netanyahu and his political partners. I have seen this difficulty within the liberal Zionist lobby J Street^[1], which fights against the occupation and defends American democracy in the name of their vision of their Jewishness, according to that very American peculiarity that allows political expression in the name of ethnic or religious affiliation.

This immersion in J Street was indeed an opportunity to see a genuine attachment to Israel, which went hand in hand with growing concern about the country’s evolution, as well as a real generational gap, which I witnessed firsthand. For example, during a conference organized by the organization, a particular energy emanated from the room when Bernie Sanders spoke in clear and harsh terms about the occupation of the territories and the suffering of the Palestinians, while a certain frustration was evident when Blinken did so in a more diplomatic manner. There was a clear disconnect between the young people of J Street, who were demonstrating loudly, and their elders, who were more measured in their reactions.

This is not just a matter of pointing to the enthusiasm of youth. While J Street claims to be Zionist, the word is more difficult to accept for some young people who are more “progressive” than their parents and influenced by the “intersectional” left, who are still Zionist but find themselves uncomfortable with a word that has become divisive (even before October 7) and its association with the increasingly extremist Israeli right wing in power.

Given that the struggle for civil rights is a strong marker of American Jewish identity, it is understandable that the democratic flaws of the Israeli model and the occupation of the territories are painful issues for them, despite or even because of their strong attachment to Israel.

Just as the flag was long confiscated by the Israeli right before being reappropriated by liberals (including those on the left) during the 2023 protests against judicial reform in Israel, the word “Zionist” has itself become a political issue: to say it or not to say it?

Traditional American Jews are thus being challenged by their children, by this new generation that sees Israel less as an essential part of their Jewishness. Thus, the figure of 80% of Jews for whom Israel is a central part of their Jewishness is 70% for 18-29 year olds, compared to 90% for those over 65. As for emotional attachment to Israel, it is 67% for those over 65, but 48% for 18-29 year olds. It would be interesting to have these figures for teenagers, which would undoubtedly be revealing, as another survey, commissioned by the Israeli government, found that 37% of American Jews aged 14 to 18 had sympathy for Hamas.

This is not a case of assimilation or a distancing from their Jewishness, as Netanyahu prophesied, but rather an adaptation to a new reality and a new relationship with the State of Israel. For this new generation, the idea of Israel as a Jewish and democratic state is simply contradicted by the facts and by the continued rule of Netanyahu, the unchanging face of Israel for the past 16 years, and currently more inevitable than ever. For them, unlike their elders, Israel has never been embodied by an inspiring or respected figure such as Peres, Rabin, Begin or, going further back, Golda Meir or David Ben-Gurion. As Israel seems to be moving toward illiberalism, it is becoming either antagonistic or a non-factor: it is likely and even desirable that a new, more mature and balanced relationship will emerge.

The illiberal and autocratic push in both the US and Israel could be an opportunity for a new alliance between American Jews and Israeli Jews. As their governments move closer together, these communities could come together in opposition.

This phenomenon could be observed in 2023 during the protests against judicial reform in Israel. On that occasion, I heard many American Jews and liberal Israelis living in the United States tell me that they had stopped going to the pro-Israel parade and waving the Israeli flag for years. In 2023, they were back, marching proudly through the streets of New York (I was among them), with the opportunity to proudly proclaim their attachment to Israel AND to democratic values (the issue of the occupation was deliberately left out in order to achieve the broadest possible consensus, as in Israel).

This reappropriation of the flag and balanced support for Israel could well herald a new alliance and forge a new, truly balanced relationship between Israel and the diaspora, in this case the American diaspora.

This would be a new form of diaspora Zionism that would claim to be based on the Israeli Declaration of Independence and the US Constitution, and on the democratic values conveyed by these two documents, rather than on the automatic support of American Jews for the Israeli government. It is conceivable that the current extremism of the Israeli and US governments could foster a new, more mature and balanced relationship, as well as new forms of cooperation between communities that would transcend relations between governments, in a new incarnation of “Am Israel” (the Jewish people), united by democratic values.

The Trump hurricane

This new alliance could be the best antidote to the alienation of Israel among young American Jews. It is all the more urgent and relevant today, as the struggle against Netanyahu and Israel’s illiberal drift, shared by liberal Israelis and Americans, is almost overshadowed by another urgent issue, existential for American Jews, which manifests itself in the form of Donald Trump.

For an American Jew, Trump is in many ways the ultimate nightmare, a strongman who is ignorant, brutal, and willing to trample on all the democratic rules that have allowed American Jews to prosper and live their Jewishness to the fullest. As with the rest of this article, it should be noted that this is certainly not true of all American Jews, but that 70-75% of them voted against him in the last election, with a breakdown fairly similar to that of the presidential elections of the last 50 years.

This Trump nightmare has nothing to do with him being a Republican, but is due to the fact that he embodies an America that is not the America dreamed of or experienced by American Jews, a conservative, nativist America that is closed to the world and even hostile to it. There is a fear that Trumpism is the beginning of a new era, with Trump followed by true ideologues who will try to transform the United States into a white, Christian, and conservative nation. The America of the series The Handmaid’s Tale was fictional, but today it is becoming a real possibility, albeit a remote one, and one that is feared by the majority of American Jews.

While Trump’s antisemitism is not proven, despite the many stereotypes he perpetuates about Jews, such as their talent for negotiation or their business acumen, he is racist, acknowledging civil rights but not celebrating them and even trying to dismantle them, thereby once again damaging his image among Jews, for whom the battle for civil rights is central to their identity. His support for Israel is not guided by a principled attachment to the country, unlike Clinton or Biden, but by purely electoral interests with evangelicals, and his alliance with Netanyahu is one between two leaders despised by American Jews, based on values that are diametrically opposed to theirs.

Driven by a purely transactional approach, he harbors a deep resentment toward American Jews who refuse to join him despite his gestures toward Israel (and often toward the Israeli right) during his first term, such as moving the US embassy to Jerusalem, supporting the annexation of the Golan Heights, and his leniency toward the colonization of Palestinian territories.

Finally, Trump continues to exploit the theme of antisemitism and to present himself as the only true bulwark against this scourge, against Democrats perceived as complicit and weak, and he attributes to mental deficiency the fact that ungrateful American Jews remain loyal to them…

For the majority of American Jews, Trump appears to be an authoritarian and uneducated leader, opposed to their values, espousing an illiberalism that brings him closer to a despised Israeli government, relaying and exploiting antisemitism that American Jews have long seen as a European phenomenon, but which is now returning with a vengeance in their country, even before October 7.

The resurgence of antisemitism, well before October 7—and the exploitation of antisemitism

My own experience as a French Jew who lived through the spectacular rise in antisemitic acts in France in the early 2000s made me particularly sensitive to the rise of antisemitism in the US, which had preceded October 7 but exploded afterwards. I had actually raised the subject on the French radio station Radio J in February 2023, to talk about the fact that the absolute tranquility of American Jews was over, with particularly serious incidents such as the attack on the synagogue in Pittsburgh in 2018 and the one in Poway, California, in 2019, which left 11 and 5 people dead, respectively.

The figures are relentless: from 1,000 antisemitic acts per year until 2015, the number rose to 2,000 between 2016 and 2019 (freedom of speech under Trump) and then to 4,000 between 2020 and 2022 (COVID-related conspiracy theories) before climbing to 8,000 in 2023 and 10,000 in 2024 (repercussions of October 7). If we stick to antisemitic acts reported to the population, we have gone from a ratio of 1 to 7 compared to France in 2015-2016 to 1 to 2 in 2023.

This new reality is violent and hard to accept for American Jews, as it was for Jews in France in the 2000s. While the situations are different, and there is no risk of seeing a phenomenon similar to the internal aliyah or the phenomenon described in the collective work Les territoires perdus de la république (The Lost Territories of the Republic) edited by Georges Bensoussan, there is the same awareness in the United States as there was in France at the time that a golden age is undoubtedly coming to an end.

On the rise since 2015 and Trump’s emergence in American public life, antisemitism has truly exploded since the end of 2023, in a similar way to what happened in Europe. Intimidation, vandalism, physical attacks—the spectrum is wide — including the murder of two employees of the Israeli embassy in the United States in front of the Jewish Museum in Washington, D.C., on May 22, amid cries of “Free Palestine.” — and has led to scenes that would have been unimaginable 10 years ago, such as police cars outside synagogues and the installation of security gates inside them.

Personal experience, linked to the pro-Israel parade already mentioned. I wrote to my family in France that I appreciated not only being able to march on Fifth Avenue, but perhaps even more so of being able to get there by subway with an Israeli flag visible, without fear. And my wife, who is Israeli, could read books in Hebrew in public without ever fearing for her safety, unlike when we lived in Paris.

Since October 7, that serenity has disappeared, and one place symbolizes this new reality better than any other: the campuses of major universities. Real antisemitism coexists there with an equally real exploitation of it by the right, so much so that admitting the reality of the phenomenon becomes a source of ambivalence for some. I have witnessed sometimes epic discussions on the subject, where liberal Zionist American Jewish students (but not from the far left) said in good faith that they were not affected in any way and that the situation was being exaggerated by the media or Jewish institutions in order to exploit it. The defense of free speech, admirable in itself, has led some American liberals and Jews to refuse to see that this principle is being used to intimidate and silence Jewish students, and many liberal Jews have been so afraid of being exploited that they have minimized a very real phenomenon.

Trump constantly exploits the theme of antisemitism and presents himself as the only true bulwark against this scourge, against Democrats perceived as complicit and weak.

This is a broader phenomenon, admirably exploited by the right, and a trap into which some liberal Jews and the Democratic Party have fallen headlong. By refusing to give the Republicans any ground, the Democratic Party has for too long allowed the right to be the only party to claim the high ground in the fight against antisemitism and common sense. The extreme polarization of public debate has been magnificently exploited by the right, with the unwitting but very real assistance of the Democrats…

Against their will, Jews have become a major issue in the US presidential election. Not because the Jewish vote was contested, but because the issue of antisemitism allowed Republicans to expose the Democrats’ weakness and present the Republican Party as the party of security. While this angle of attack did not sway the Jewish vote in favor of Trump, it was politically useful for Republicans beyond the American Jewish community.

Antisemitism thus served as a particularly effective angle of attack to present themselves as the defenders of American elite university campuses, which had been targeted by the Republican Party for years, even decades. The right wing was thus able to capitalize on the discredit that befell campuses in the wake of October 7, with the disastrous hearings of three university presidents in December 2023 as a symbol of their inability to understand the scale of the antisemitic phenomenon. Since arriving in the White House, Trump and his administration have used antisemitism as a pretext to justify their broader offensive against universities, not hesitating to arrest and threaten to deport pro-Palestinian activists, in defiance of the rule of law and the First Amendment.

The fear of many, including myself, is that the defense of Israel will become a smokescreen for a reactionary offensive against academic freedom and freedom of expression, through the criminalization of all pro-Palestinian speech. The consequences would be disastrous, both for American democracy and for the possibility of maintaining a nuanced line toward Israel. In short, it would be extremely difficult, if not impossible, to maintain the balanced position that currently prevails among American Jews, caught between Trump’s hammer and the anvil of a progressivism that is sometimes fascinated by a dangerously radical decolonial ideology.

The questioning of political liberalism in the United States under Trump’s relentless attacks, combined with the loss of clarity surrounding the alliance with progressivism, is shaking the certainties of American Jews and their very identity.

The awakening of French Jews was a security wake-up call, not an identity crisis. For American Jews, who see their core identity and beliefs challenged, even beyond issues of physical security, this new reality is perhaps even more traumatic. For the return of tragedy and threats against them comes not only from their traditional enemies, but also, and above all, from the progressive circles with which they had allied themselves before anti-Zionism found such resonance there. It is also likely that the confluence between the conspiratorial far right and the anti-Zionist far left will become more apparent after the US strike against Iran, which is likely to fuel the perennial accusation that US policy is dictated by the “Zionist and warmongering lobby.”

Beyond the antisemitism they face, the lack of compassion shown by their progressive allies has been traumatic for many liberal American Jews. The “purity” of the Palestinian cause has prevented many left-wing organizations from clearly denouncing Hamas, the October 7 attack, or expressing any solidarity with civilian victims or hostages. Memorable images remain of posters commemorating the fate of the hostages being torn down by pro-Palestinian activists who, in the name of misguided progressivism, denied even the suffering of Israelis in order to express their support for Palestinians.

This attitude emerged not in response to the IDF’s response and the numerous civilian casualties, but as early as October 8, as Eva Illouz rightly noted in her pamphlet, October 8: Genealogy of a Virtuous Hatred. Solidarity with Palestine then became, for these progressives, no longer a political cause, but a metapolitical and even existential one, in a spirit of simplistic and absolute Manichaeism.

The Republicans’ exploitation of the fight against antisemitism must be denounced, and it must be remembered that progressivism and the left in general cannot be reduced to the many antisemitic expressions that have manifested themselves in the name of solidarity with the Palestinians. But these are nonetheless indisputable, whether in the virulence of words or deeds, or in the lack of empathy shown by certain progressive circles toward their Jewish comrades-in-arms in many other “liberal” struggles. This indifference will remain an indelible stain for many American Jews and could lead some of them to realign themselves politically.

Toward a political realignment?

October 7 was a traumatic day for Israelis and Jews around the world. For American Jews, however, this trauma was accompanied by a painful political and ideological awakening that forced them to reconsider the meaning of their alliances. This has not made the majority of them conservative: remember Harris’ stable score among American Jews compared to that of Biden, Clinton, or Obama. However, they have undoubtedly become more wary and cautious in choosing their future alliances. It is possible that October 7 will mark the beginning of a certain shift in Jewish political positioning, which could have repercussions in the elections of the coming decades. In a way, the fact that the alternative was embodied by Trump may have prevented a more massive shift toward the Republicans, which was only marginal in 2024.

While the 71-26 score for Harris among American Jews is traditional, the figures from the CBAO institute also show that among young people under 30, the figure is 64-29, with a twofold movement:

a higher score for Trump and, at the same time, a score for “neither Trump nor Harris” of 7 points against 3% nationally. The signs are still weak, but they seem to foreshadow the divide already mentioned between the Trumpian hammer and the anti-Zionist anvil. The questioning of political liberalism in the United States under Trump’s relentless attacks, combined with the loss of clarity surrounding the alliance with progressivism, are shaking the certainties of American Jews and their very identity.

The evolution of the Democratic Party’s position on Israel will be crucial in the coming years, as Israel’s image continues to deteriorate in the United States, particularly among Democratic voters (but also among Republicans under the age of 30…). Today, Israel is viewed unfavorably by 53% of Americans, with the figure rising to 69% among Democrats (+16 points compared to 2022) and 37% among Republicans (but 50% among Republicans aged 18 to 49, +15 points vs. 2022).

The fear of many, including myself, is that the defense of Israel will become a smokescreen for a reactionary offensive against academic freedom and freedom of expression.

If Israel continues to stray from liberal democratic norms, the line will become very thin for the Democratic Party, the traditional home of American Jews. Will it manage to maintain support for Israel while criticizing its government’s policies, to counter the progressive drift embodied by campus ideology while maintaining an uncompromising stance on civil liberties and civil rights? Or will it fall into the trap of leaving Trumpism with a monopoly on the fight against antisemitism, when for the latter it is merely a pretext for undermining civil rights and the rule of law?

It is a nightmare come true for American Jews. The very foundation of their political identity is being called into question in the name of defending Jews. The paradox would be amusing if it weren’t so tragic, heralding a difficult future for American Jews.

The question is being asked today, and the mere fact that it is being asked is already an event in itself. Israel’s evolution has alienated many American Jews, despite their deep attachment to the idea of a Jewish state and the importance that this state has in defining their Jewishness. At the same time, the transformation of the United States under Trump into an autocratic regime is calling into question their relationship with their own country. It will force these Jews to fight, once again, as in the 1960s, to ensure that their Jewishness remains consistent with their American identity in terms of values, while confronting antisemitism that is as brutal as it is instrumentalized in the public and political sphere.

On a personal level, I intend to participate, at my own level, in this struggle for a certain idea of America that has shaped my imagination and my hopes, because this battle is about the permanence of the United States as a promised land not only for Jews, but for all lovers of freedom and democracy.

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Sébastien Levi