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They traveled to the U.S. as Jewish teens. Here’s how these 4 Israelis see America now.

As the U.S. celebrates the 250th anniversary of its founding, some past participants in the Bronfman Fellowship, which for three decades has brought a cohort of 17-year-old Israelis to the United States for two weeks each summer,  looked back on how their visits — and what they learned about the American experiment — shaped their lives. Here are their stories as told to Talya Zax and Sage Lattman, edited and condensed for clarity.

Oz Bin Nun

Oz is a combat veteran of the Egoz Unit, a former Jewish Agency emissary and co-founder of the “Reserve Duty Servants Forum,” leading strategic advocacy for reservists’ rights.

Oz Bin Nun Courtesy of Oz Bin Nun

 

My first time in the U.S. was through Bronfman, and the most honest way to describe it was life changing. I grew up in a very, very Israeli family — all of my grandparents were born in Israel, which is pretty rare, and my parents don’t really speak English, which is not very common in Israel. I didn’t think I’d be in the U.S. in the future even, so Bronfman for me was the first time that I found myself there.

I’m trying to find the U.S. that I met during my Bronfman journey, but I’m not sure it really exists.

Back then I thought the U.S. was a magical place, but it was also the whole Bronfman idea: you’re driving around, you have the best speakers, you speak with the most interesting people, in a very open-minded, curious and friendly way — more than friends, kind of like allies to your journey. All that framework created a pretty magical experience, and when I got back to Israel I was like, ‘Wow, it really changed something inside me.’ But I came back in 2016, which was also the rise of Trump and a lot of things that I didn’t see in 2015, and I guess a lot of Americans didn’t see as well.

When I think about the U.S., the first thing is some specific smell that Americans aren’t really aware of — something wet in the air, and a lot of things are very green. And almost immediately after that is the sense of room. There is enough room. When you’re going there, you don’t feel that someone else is taking your place, or stepping on your toes. In Israel there is a sense that there is no room; everything is so crowded, and not just physically. There is something about just driving until the horizon — it’s a sense of awe and a sense of freedom.

My wife and I lived for two years in Madison, Wisconsin, not in the classic places, not on the coasts, and to some extent we saw the real America — the beautiful things in it and the problematic things in it. Once you’re driving through America, America makes much more sense. You drive for six or eight or 10 hours and around Southern Illinois, St. Louis, Arkansas you see the signs flip, and the best coffee in Mobile, Alabama has a pride flag. I feel like a citizen of two worlds — and it’s rare to be a citizen of two of the biggest Jewish communities in the world, specifically in a time when they’re spreading apart, and it’s harder and harder to find a common ground.

Alex Rif

Alex is an Israeli-Russian social activist and poet, who is currently a candidate on behalf of the ‘Yashar!’ party with Gadi Eisenkot. She is the founder and former CEO of One Million Lobby, the first and only Israeli non-profit that promotes a better social, economic, state-religious and cultural reality for the 1.2 million Israelis from the former Soviet Union states (IFSU).

Alex Rif Courtesy of Alex Rif

I went to the U.S. in 2003, more than 20 years ago, when I was in 11th grade — and I want to jump to the end, which is that yesterday I joined a political party, with Gadi Eisenkot, as a candidate. A lot of the things that Bronfman gave me led me to that, specifically the visit to the U.S., because it was the first time I actually met different communities of Jews.

I come from Soviet Jewry — we came after 70 years of our Jewish culture, stories, heritage, religion being erased — and I didn’t feel connected in Israel to the Israeli Orthodox mainstream. Visiting the U.S. was the first time I saw that there are many ways of being Jewish, and they are all beautiful and profound and meaningful and deep. That was an enormous discovery for me. From the other side, I learned the importance of the connection between Israel and outside of Israel.

I made Aliyah when I was 5, from Ukraine, and like a lot of immigrants I tried to be more Israeli than the Israelis. This trip changed my perspective: there’s a big Jewish peoplehood, and Israel is not the only place. It may be the shelter, the biggest center, but it’s not the only place. It shaped my professional path — for the past 10 years I’ve dedicated my life to the Russian-speaking community in Israel, to issues like conversion and the grandchild clause, which we have to guard, because it’s the only law that gives people who intermarried the chance to come back in a time of need, when antisemitism rises, as we see now in New York.

One of our meetings during the fellowship was with candidates for Congress and people who worked in government — the first time I met high-ranked elected people, and I saw how much good they can do and how much power they have in their hands. It felt like it was in the touch of my hand: if I can meet them, I can be them. It was really empowering, even before I met Israeli officials. I have a picture of myself standing in a meeting room with a U.S. flag, in a very warm coat, at the speaking point, proud and excited — it opened something in my mind.

For me the U.S. is a sister country. Part of my heart is being ripped apart and lives in the U.S. now, with friends who’ve left. The U.S. is the best friend we ever had, and probably ever will have, and we have to do everything we can to save this friendship and this alliance.

Lior Soroka

Lior is a freelance journalist and screenwriter based in Tel Aviv. He reports for The Washington Post, covering the conflict in the Middle East. He is currently writing a play for the Haifa Theatre and co-writing a television series.

Lior Soroka Courtesy of Lior Soroka

It was pretty long ago — back in 1999. I was a teenager then, in 11th grade, and it was a very unique experience going to meet the Jewish communities in the States. In Israel the boundaries of Judaism are very clear: there is a clear boundary whether you’re secular, or religious, or ultra-Orthodox. It felt like in the States there are more possibilities to experience your Jewishness. Part of it, I think, is because in Israel, Judaism and the state are intertwined. You feel that in recent years, even the tension between the different denominations is growing, and I felt it less while I visited the States.

As a Jewish person who lives in Israel, I always felt this deep connection between Israel and the diaspora. It always felt like Israel can be a safe place for Jews, and the Jewish community abroad is also there to support Israel from afar. But recently, since the war broke out, I think a lot of things have changed. Many Jews abroad and in Israel are asking about the path that Israel is taking in the last years, and how it influenced this unique relationship between Israel and the diaspora. Israel needs to remember it, so it won’t lose this strong ally we have with the Jews who live in the States — because some of them are saying they don’t want anything to do with Israel now. It’s becoming harder to identify yourself as a Zionist or pro-Israeli. We don’t need to take this relationship as granted, because we can really lose it.

As a journalist, the main thing is to be curious, and my visit taught me a lot about how things work in the States — it was a first glimpse into American politics and the connection between Jews and the United States. We visited D.C. and met some Congress people, we went to the Holocaust Museum, we met different denominations in New York. It’s better when you see things with your own eyes.

The most meaningful part was a meeting at Congregation Beit Simchat Torah, the LGBTQ+ community in New York. As a teenager in the closet at 17, to see how Judaism and being gay can go together was very meaningful. A couple of years afterward I came back by myself for a huge Yom Kippur service, thousands of LGBTQ Jews gathering together. In Israel you hear people like Bezalel Smotrich saying these things cannot go together — and in the States, you see how it can work, and does work.”

Hadas Semo

Hadas, 20, studied at Ulpana Tzvia Afula. After national service at Amal High School in Ashdod, she began working in the field of education as a youth counselor.

Hadas Semo Courtesy of Hadas Semo

It was about January 2023, and it was just a wonderful experience. I’d never been abroad before. Everything about the program made it more special, because it was all about our identity as Jews. At the meetings with the people who were from America and were Jews — I was mesmerized most of the time. That’s what stood out to me the most.

Before, I didn’t really think about what the U.S. meant to me; I felt like it was something not connected to me in any way. But when I came there, I felt connected, because I saw the Jews there — it’s not only Israel that has this special energy and this special history. That was the first time I felt like this and saw it with my own eyes, and I feel the connection now. I saw New York as this big city from the movies, so I was very excited, and everything just felt magical.

In my experience as an Israeli Ethiopian, a Black Israeli, I had some thoughts and conflicts being in the program. It’s one thing to be Black in the world and another to be Black in Israel itself, because of all the difficulties we have with racism and fitting into society. When I came to Bronfman I was myself, I sometimes felt a little unconnected to the people, because everyone was a specific type of energy, the way they grew up, and a little white. It was always in my head: I’m a Black Ethiopian in this group. I was the only one — you can tell just by looking. I started wondering who I would be in the U.S., whether I’d just be seen as a Black person there — what they see is what they see, nobody knows I’m a Jew.

In the U.S., the manager of the fellowship arranged a meeting for me with a former fellow who’s biracial, and she told me about her experience as a half-Black Jew in America — the conflicts, the things that come with it. I felt like I needed someone who was like me, who understood me. We had so much fun, and something clicked. It helped me accept who I am and where I am, and understand that no matter what and who and how I am, I’m good as I am — it doesn’t matter the color, or where I came from, or what happened to me before.

The post They traveled to the U.S. as Jewish teens. Here’s how these 4 Israelis see America now. appeared first on The Forward.

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The Hasidic Rabbi that brings together Jews and Arabs

עס זײַנען דאָ אַזעלכע מענטשן װאָס מע טרעפֿט זײ רעגלמעסיק אױף דער גאַס, אין קאַפֿע, אַרום דער שטאָט. אַזױ איז בײַ מיר און הרבֿ הערשל גליק.

פֿון אױבן אױף, זעט אױס אַז מיר זײַנען גאַנץ אַנדערש, אײנער פֿונעם צװײטן. ער איז אַ חסיד; איך בין אַ ליבעראַלע ייִדישע. ער איז אַ רבֿ; איך בין אַ לערערקע, אַ דראַמאַטורגין און אַן אַקטריסע. פֿון דעסטװעגן, װױנען מיר בײדע אין סטאַמפֿאָרד־היל, דעם „װיליאַמסבורג“ פֿון לאָנדאָן, און אונדזערע קרײַזן דעקן זיך אַ מאָל.

הרבֿ גליק איז אָבער נישט קיין געוויינטלעכער רבֿ. אַחוץ זײַן אַרבעט צוצוציִען ייִדן צו ייִדישקייט פֿירט ער אָן מיטן „אַראַביש־ייִדישן פֿאָרום“ — אַן אָרגאַניזאַציע וואָס ער האָט געגרינדעט אַ יאָר פֿאַר 9/11 — װאָס ברענגט צונויף ייִדן מיט אַראַבער און מוסולמענער, כּדי אויפֿצוהאַלטן גוטע באַציִונגען צווישן זיי. אין 2025 האָט מען אַרויסגעלאָזט אַ נײַעם דאָקומענטאַר װעגן הרבֿ גליקס לעבן און אַרבעט. דעם פֿילם — „װי אַזױ צו לעבן בשלום מיט אַלעמען“ — האָט מען שױן געוויזן אין מיאַמי, אין לאָנדאָן און אין אַנדערע שטעט.

געשמועסט האָבן מיר בײַ אים אין שטוב. אין עסצימער, איז דער טיש אַרומגערינגלט מיט נישט װײניק פּאָליצעס, אָנגעפּאַקט מיט ספֿרים און ביכער. אין גאָרטן, אױפֿן גראָז, געפֿינט זיך אַ קאָמפּלעט הױדלקעס. װען איך בין אַרײַן אין הויז, האָט ער מיר סערװירט אַן ענגליש גלעזל טײ: אַ שװאַרצער „פֿרישטיקס־טײ“ מיט מילך און צוקער, מיט אַ פּאָר קיכעלעך אױף דער זײַט. אין מיטן אונדזער שמועס, זעענדיק אַז איך האָב נאָך נישט פֿאַרזוכט די קיכעלעך, זאָגט ער מיר, מיט אַ שמײכל׃ „זײ זײַנען נישט נאָר אױף צו קוקן!“ דאַן האָב איך זײ יאָ געגעסן, נישט װילנדיק אים באַלײדיקן.

הרבֿ גליק האָט אַ לאַנגע װײַסע באָרד, און ער טראָגט כּסדר אַ שװאַרץ־און־װײַסע קאַפּאָטע מיט אַ שװאַרצן קאַפּל אונטער אַ שוואַרצן הוט. ער האָט ליב צו זאָגן, אַז ער איז אַן עכטער לאָנדאָנער, װײַל ער איז געבױרן געװאָרן אין װעסטמינסטער־שפּיטאָל, נישט װײַט פֿון פּאַרלאַמענט און פֿון באַקינגהאַם־פּאַלאַץ.

בײדע עלטערן זײַנע האָבן געשטאַמט פֿון עסטרײַך. פֿון זײ — און די באָבע־זײדעס װאָס האָבן איבערגעלעבט דעם חורבן — האָט ער זיך אױסגעלערנט אַ מעריבֿ־ייִדיש. אײדער ער איז געװאָרן אַ רבֿ, האָט ער געלערנט אַ צען יאָר אין ישיבֿות אין ברונואַ (לעבן פּאַריז), אין ניו־יאָרק, אין ניו־דזשערזי און אין מאָנטרעאָל.

הרבֿ גליק האָט ליב זיך צו פֿאַרבינדן מיט נײַע מענטשן און נײַע קהילות, און ער איז נישט װײניק אַרומגעפֿאָרן. אין 2019 איז ער געװען דער ערשטער רבֿ װאָס האָט אַ מאָל געהאַלטן אַ רעפֿעראַט אין אַן אוניווערסיטעט אין פּאַקיסטאַן. פֿאַראַיאָרן, שמועסנדיק מיט מיר אױף דער גאַס, האָט ער געפֿרעגט פֿון װאַנען די משפּחה מײַנע קומט. אַז איך האָב מודה געװען אַז איך קען בלויז דעם ייִדישן נאָמען פֿון דער עלטער־באָבנס שטעטל, האָט ער מיך געפֿרעגט וואָס איז דער ייִדישער נאָמען, און גלײַך מיטגעטײלט אַז דאָס שטעטל איז אין הײַנטיקן אוקראַיִנע און אויך װי עס הײסט אױף אוקראַיִניש. סוף־כּל־סוף, האָב איך עס געקענט געפֿונען אױף דער מאַפּע.

בײַם סוף פֿון דער קאָמוניסטישער תּקופֿה אין מזרח־אײראָפּע, האָט ער זיך פֿאַרבונדן מיט דער ייִדישער קהילה, װאָס איז דעמאָלט געווען אין טשעכאָסלאָװאַקײַ. דאָרט האָט ער געפֿונען ייִדן, װאָס האָבן געװאָלט לערנען תּורה און תּלמוד.

„דאָס זײַנען געװען עלטערע ייִדן װאָס האָבן אין די קינדעריאָרן זיך געלערנט אין חדר, אין דער הײם“ — האָט הרבֿ גליק געזאָגט — „און מיט אַ מאָל האָבן זײ געהאַט אַ געלעגנהייט צו לערנען מיטן יונגן דור תּורה.“ צוליב דעם װאָס עס זײַנען נישט געװען קײן משניות אױף טשעכיש, האָט הרבֿ גליק געקױפֿט אַ קאָמפּלעט משניות איבערגעזעצט אויף ייִדיש פֿון שׂימחה פּעטרושקע (1893—1950). אַזױ אַרום, האָבן די װאָס האָבן נישט גוט געקענט לשון־קודש געקענט איבערזעצן יעדע משנה פֿון ייִדיש אױף טשעכיש, און ווײַטער לערנען.

הײַנט צו טאָג איז הרבֿ גליק דער עמערירטער רבֿ פֿון דער שיל „שערי מזל־טובֿ“ (װאַלפֿאָרד־ראָוד), לעבן סטאַמפֿאָרד־היל. פֿאַר דעם איז ער געװען דער רבֿ פֿון דער האַקני־שול, נישט װײַט פֿון יענער געגנט. ער איז אויך געווען דער בעל־הבית פֿונעם באַקאַנטן כּשרן בעקערײַ „פּאַרקװײ.“ זינט 2015 איז ער דער פּרעזידענט פֿון די שומרים פֿון סטאַמפֿאָרד־היל.

װי אַזױ איז אים אײַנגעפֿאַלן צו גרינדן דעם „אַראַביש־ייִדשן פֿאָרום“? נאָכן אַרבעטן אױף עטלעכע פּראָיעקטן װאָס שליסן שלום צװישן לענדער װי איראַן, קוּװײט, איראַק און ישׂראל־פּאַלעסטינע, זאָגט ער, „האָב איך זיך באַקענט און באַפֿרײַנדט מיט אַ סך אַראַבער, מוסולמענער און אַנדערע, אין דעם געגנט. און כ׳האָב געזען אַז מע קען אַרבעטן צוזאַמען — נישט נאָר אַז מע קען, נאָר אַז מע אַרבעט זײער געשמאַק צוזאַמען פֿאַר אַלגעמײנע זאַכן.“

ער האָט אָנגעהױבן טראַכטן פֿון די באַציִונגען צװישן ייִדן, אַראַבער און מוסולמענער אין ענגלאַנד, װוּ ער װױנט.

„מע אַרבעט צוזאַמען, און מע פֿאַרשטײט אײנער דעם צװײטן, און מע העלפֿט אײנער דעם צװײטן, און מע שטיצט אײנער דעם צװײטן,“ האָט הרבֿ גליק געזאָגט. „אָבער כ׳האָב געטראַכט אַז, פֿאָרט, [זײַנען] דאָ ענינים װאָס גראָבן אונטער די גוטע אַרבעט צװישן אונדז. מע דאַרף עפּעס מאַכן — גוטע פֿונדאַמענטן — כּדי אַז די גוטע צוזאַמען־לעבן און די גוטע מיטאַרבעט זאָל װײַטער גײן, בעזרת השם.“

נאָכן דורכרעדן דעם געדאַנק מיט פֿאַרשידענע ייִדישע און מוסולמענישע פֿירער אין לאָנדאָן, איז דער פֿאָרום געגרינדעט געוואָרן אין יאָר 2000.

לױט הרבֿ גליק, האָט דער פֿאָרום דערמעגלעכט בעסערע באַציִונגען צװישן דער מוסולמענישער, ייִדישער און אַראַבישער באַפֿעלקערונג אין לאָנדאָן, ספּעציעל אין און אַרום סטאַמפֿאָרד־היל. „מע גײט דאָ אין גאַס, און מע גײט דאָ אין געגנט — זעט מען נישט נאָר אַז ייִדן און מוסולמענער לעבן גוט אײנער לעבן צװײטן; מיר לעבן גוט אין אײנעם, ב״ה.“

הרבֿ גליק האַלט, אַז כאָטש ס׳איז זיכער דאָ מער אַנטיסעמיטיזם איצט װי פֿאַר די טעראָריסטישע אַטאַקן אויף ישׂראל דעם 7טן אָקטאָבער 2023 און דער מלחמה צווישן ישׂראל און די פּאַלעסטינער, איז נישטאָ קײן פֿאַרגלײַך צװישן אונדזערע צײַטן און די יאָרן פֿון דער נאַציסטישער תּקופֿה.

„װען מע קוקט װי ייִדן לעבן הײַנט, איבער דער גאַנצער װעלט, זײַנען דאָ שװעריקײטן — כ׳װײס פּונקט װאָס קומט פֿאָר, אפֿשר בעסער װי אַנדערע. אָבער איך האָב עלטערן װאָס האָבן מיטגעלעבט די 30ער יאָרן, און איך זאָג אײַך, אָן קײן שום ספֿק, אַז הײַנט איז נישט אַזױ װי אין די 30ער יאָרן.“

The post The Hasidic Rabbi that brings together Jews and Arabs appeared first on The Forward.

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Jon Ossoff romped to a second Senate term. Can he aim higher?

(JTA) — ATLANTA — Sen. Jon Ossoff’s soaring popularity and cruise to reelection last Tuesday have spurred speculation about his political future — and whether he might aim to become the first Jewish president of the United States.

Less than an hour after polls closed on Election Night, he was projected to handily defeat his Republican challenger Mike Collins. With a campaign focused on expanding affordability and fighting corruption, Ossoff built a broad coalition in one of the nation’s most diverse states, even earning endorsements from Republicans. Ultimately, he retained his seat by a margin of 59%-41%.

The leading polling analyst Nate Silver said Saturday that Ossoff was his “slam dunk number one pick” for a Democratic presidential candidate in 2028, despite Ossoff’s insistence that he has “zero interest in running for president.”

Ossoff’s Jewish supporters have expressed pride in his affirmation of Southern Jewish history while leading a state with a fervent Christian population. But other Jewish constituents have said they feel betrayed by his mounting criticism of Israel’s actions in Gaza, and it remains to be seen whether Georgia’s pro-Israel Jews would coalesce around Ossoff if he pursues the country’s highest office.

For Andrew Lewis, there’s no question that Ossoff is a worthy standard-bearer for the Jewish community. A board member of Atlanta’s oldest synagogue, the Temple — where Ossoff had his bar mitzvah — Lewis said the senator frequently cites the Temple’s role in the civil rights movement, a point of pride for Jewish Atlantans. In 1958, white supremacists bombed the Temple because its rabbi, Jacob Rothschild, advocated desegregation and allied with Martin Luther King Jr. Ossoff was sworn into the Senate on Rothschild’s well-worn bible.

“Our Rabbi Rothschild worked with Dr. King and helped shepherd Atlanta’s Jewish community, and our city and nation, through a very different yet equally divisive time,” said Lewis, who also co-founded the interfaith organization First Five Freedoms. “I take a great deal of pride in that, and I see every time Jon Ossoff speaks about it, he takes equal pride.”

Ossoff has said his entry into politics was interning for Rep. John Lewis, the late civil rights giant, which helped spur his career as an investigative documentarian before he ran for office himself.

Ossoff’s fellow Georgian in the Senate, Raphael Warnock, serves as a pastor at King’s former pulpit, Atlanta’s Ebenezer Baptist Church. When Ossoff and Warnock ran at the same time in the 2021 runoff elections for the state’s two Senate seats, they called attention to their rekindling of the Southern Black-Jewish alliance.

Elise Eplan, a former president of the American Jewish Committee chapter in Atlanta, said she appreciated Ossoff’s references to his Jewish identity. Ossoff has said that his father descended from Ashkenazi immigrants and he grew up among relatives who were Holocaust survivors.

“When you grow up in the South, it used to be harder to talk about not being Christian, and being really open about it,” said Eplan. “I have admired the fact that he’s not shied away from that.”

Ossoff during his 2021 run delivered a direct appeal to the state’s Jewish community in the Atlanta Jewish Times, saying that his Jewish upbringing instilled “a conviction to fight for the marginalized, the persecuted and the dispossessed.” He noted to JTA in 2019 that his wife, physician Alisha Kramer, is also Jewish. The couple started dating in high school, according to the Atlanta Journal-Constitution.

Two years ago, Ossoff faced blowback from Jewish institutions for supporting Sen. Bernie Sanders’ resolutions to block certain weapons sales to Israel. The local Anti-Defamation League Southeast chapter, the Jewish Federation of Greater Atlanta, the American Israel Public Affairs Committee and an array of synagogues said they were “deeply disappointed” by his votes for the resolutions, which did not pass. In 2025 and 2026, he voted for further measures to restrict offensive military aid to Israel, while supporting defensive arms sales.

Ossoff stood by those votes during a debate with Collins last month. He also said he had “no doubt” that Israeli forces committed war crimes in Gaza, deferring the charge of genocide as “a question for the International Criminal Court.”

Michael Morris, the publisher of the Atlanta Jewish Times, accused Ossoff in an open letter of “lying to me and your constituents” about his support for Israel by repeatedly voting against arms sales.

But when Ossoff emerged triumphant on Tuesday, the ADL offered him congratulations — despite denouncing other victorious Israel critics.

ADL Southeast Director Todd Young rebuked Collins, Ossoff’s opponent, for links to white nationalists. “This race also underscored the importance of confronting antisemitism in Georgia politics,” he said in a statement. “Throughout the campaign, serious concerns emerged about individuals close to Mike Collins.”

Collins’ former staffers were accused of posting racist and antisemitic imagery and participating in a white nationalist group chat, while his son-in-law promoted antisemitic conspiracy theories online. Those controversies might have muffled Jewish groups’ objections to Ossoff’s voting record on Israel, according to Rebecca Stoil, a professor of U.S. political history at Clemson University.

“Ossoff, and his candidacy with Jewish voters, was benefited by the clear concerns that Jewish voters had with Collins,” said Stoil, a member of Atlanta’s Jewish community.

In his 2021 campaign, Ossoff accused his then-opponent, Sen. David Perdue, of antisemitic dog whistling after a campaign ad depicting Ossoff with an elongated nose.

Ossoff says that he supports the security of Israelis as well as the safety and security of Palestinians. In a Senate speech in November 2023, he said, “Just as I pray for the freedom of hostages taken so cruelly from their families, as a pro-Israel Jewish American I urge mercy for the innocent civilians in Gaza.”

As a rising left flank of his party presses for the end of the U.S.-Israel alliance, Ossoff continues to define himself as “pro-Israel.” He argued last month that before sending weapons to any ally, the United States should assess “whether that foreign government is acting consistent with our interests, our laws and our values.”

Ossoff’s argument that one can be pro-Israel even while conditioning U.S. aid has been increasingly embraced by the center of the Democratic Party, according to political scientist Dov Waxman. He pointed to surveys that capture a drop in sympathy for Israel among Americans, including American Jews.

A new poll from J Street, a liberal Jewish Middle East policy group, reported that 39% of Jewish voters said defensive aid for Israel should continue with conditions, while 31% said all military aid should end and 30% said aid should continue without conditions. Among Jews under 35, 60% supported severing military aid and said that Israel has committed genocide in Gaza.

Waxman said those trends spelled both parties moving away from traditionally stalwart pro-Israel positions of delivering offensive and defensive aid to Israel with few conditions.

“I think Ossoff’s position is really the mainstream position now in the Democratic Party — the center of gravity,” said Waxman. “Which is to say, a position that broadly supports the continuation of the U.S.-Israel alliance, but is not willing to write a blank check for Israel, and is not willing to support what the Israeli government does unconditionally.”

Eplan, the former AJC leader, said she was initially “concerned” about Ossoff’s votes to block offensive weapons sales in 2024. But three years into Israel’s prosecution of the war in Gaza under Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, she said, “I understand it.”

“Unfortunately, under Netanyahu, it has become more and more difficult to be pro-Israel in the way we always have been historically,” said Eplan. “I do think that we need leaders who understand some of the nuance, and who are willing when necessary to take a tough stand, but at the end of the day understand the importance of Israel as our ally and as a Jewish homeland.”

If Ossoff decides to run for president, it would be in a new world of U.S.-Israel relations. Democrats are not alone in increasingly scrutinizing the alliance. Republican Vice President J.D. Vance blamed his party’s crushing defeats in the midterm elections partly on “our relationship to Israel” and the Iran war, which the United States joined with Israel. (Ossoff, like other Democrats across the country, has excoriated Trump for “lying a nation into war” and sending “prices soaring with his warmongering in the Middle East.”)

Trump announced on Election Day that the United States would halt military aid to Israel by the end of 2026, saying that Republicans “suffer the slings” from Democrats over the issue.

“Now it is the policy both of the incumbent administration and of people like Jon Ossoff to limit aid to Israel,” said Stoil. “For voters who did care so much about Israel that it was going to be their basis for voting, the moment it becomes a bipartisan consensus to cut off aid, then you pick what most closely represents you on the other topics.”

Meanwhile, Israel is undergoing its own political change following elections on Oct. 27. The next president of the United States could be dealing with a new Israeli government after Netanyahu’s rival, Gadi Eisenkot, scored enough seats and endorsements from other parties to seek to form a new governing coalition.

Pro-Israel groups in the United States are already retooling for the next stage of relations. Kathy Manning, a former North Carolina congresswoman who chairs the advocacy group Democratic Majority for Israel, hopes that a new Israeli government will pave the way for a renewed alliance that Democrats like Ossoff can support.

“If the current government, Netanyahu and his far-right extremists, continue to be the leaders of Israel, I think that it’s going to be very tough for many Democrats to continue to stand shoulder to shoulder,” said Manning. “If the government of Israel changes and we see a Gadi Eisenkot coalition moving forward, I think that’ll be an opportunity for us to rebuild the U.S.-Israel relationship.”

This article originally appeared on JTA.org.

The post Jon Ossoff romped to a second Senate term. Can he aim higher? appeared first on The Forward.

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Socialists plan to ‘break’ the US-Israel alliance after winning big in the midterms

The Democratic Socialists of America is looking to use its growing influence to push for a full arms embargo against Israel and ultimately “break” the longstanding alliance between the U.S. and the Jewish state, party leaders said during a recent post-election organizing call after expanding its presence in Congress to eight members once midterm winners are sworn in.

During the call, Kareem Ellerfi, a member of DSA’s National Political Committee, said the newly elected House members will “ensure that Palestine is not forgotten, it’s not left behind, and that we’re fighting to break the U.S.-Israel relationship.” Ellerfi recently returned from a Palestinian solidarity mission that began in Jordan. The delegation had planned to travel to Ramallah in the West Bank but was detained by Israeli authorities while attempting to cross the border and sent back to Jordan.

The call featured three newly elected members of the House — Chris Rabb of Pennsylvania, Claire Valdez of New York and Angela Gonzalez Torres of California — and DSA organizers who said the election results showed that candidates could win while openly opposing Israel and advocating for Palestinian rights.

“Campaigns like mine showed that moral clarity on the genocide in Gaza and an economic populist agenda would win over voters who stayed home in 2024 or who voted for Donald Trump,” said Valdez, whose district includes parts of Brooklyn and Queens. She said a “free Palestine” was among her top agenda items.

A shifting landscape on Israel

The DSA victories come as American support for Israel faces growing divisions across the political spectrum, including among young Jewish Americans.

A growing number of progressive House members already back ending all U.S. aid to Israel, including funding for Israel’s Iron Dome defense system. Earlier this year, 103 of 212 Democrats supported a measure to eliminate the annual military assistance to Israel and another 10 abstained. Dozens also co-sponsored a pair of measures – the Block the Bombs Act and Ceasefire Compliance Act – that would restrict certain offensive arms sales to Israel and increase oversight of Israel’s policies in the occupied West Bank and in Gaza.

Republicans have also voiced support for phasing out military assistance to Israel and moving toward a relationship in which Israel purchases American weapons without financial assistance. Some Republicans have grown increasingly isolationist during the conflicts with Iran, which some in the party blame on Israel.

On Election Day, President Donald Trump announced that he and Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu had agreed to end the roughly $3.8 billion in annual U.S. military aid to Israel by the end of this year — two years before the current 10-year memorandum of understanding expires in Sep. 2028. Secretary of State Marco Rubio said Monday that Israel is “rich enough” to purchase needed weapons.

But DSA leaders made clear that their goals go much further. They want a complete arms embargo and an end to the U.S.-Israel alliance.

The organization quadrupled its presence in the House in Tuesday’s midterm elections, with six new members joining Reps. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez of New York and Rashida Tlaib of Michigan. DSA also celebrated victories in local races, announcing that more than 100 socialists now hold lower-level offices across more than 37 states. Its growing influence includes Los Angeles Mayor-elect Nithya Raman and D.C. Mayor-elect Janeese Lewis George, who join New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani, elected last year.

Among the priorities on the call were forcing a vote on the Block the Bombs Act and challenging Senate Democratic leader Chuck Schumer and House Democratic leader Hakeem Jeffries, both longtime supporters of Israel.

With Democrats holding a sizable majority in the House, DSA members may not have the votes to pass key legislation. But their presence in Congress and alliance with the Progressive Caucus, which has increased to more than 100 members, could give them a louder voice in shaping the party’s future on Israel and U.S. military aid.

Rabb, who made criticism of Israel and opposition to AIPAC central to his congressional campaign, was defiant. “People think that we can’t do what we do,” he said. “And to those people, I say, get the f–k out of the way and let us do what we need to do.”

A post-election survey of 800 Jewish voters, conducted by the Mellman Group for the Jewish Electorate Institute, found that 24% of Jewish Democrats see their party as “becoming too much of a home for socialists and the far left.”

The post Socialists plan to ‘break’ the US-Israel alliance after winning big in the midterms appeared first on The Forward.

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