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An Orthodox woman says she is no longer welcome to pray at a New York synagogue because she is trans
(JTA) — When Talia Avrahami was asked to resign from a job teaching in an Orthodox Jewish day school after people there found out she was transgender, she was devastated. But she hoped to be able to turn to her synagogue in Washington Heights, where she had found a home for the last year and a half.
The Shenk Shul is housed at Yeshiva University, the Modern Orthodox flagship in New York City that was locked in battle with students over whether they could form an LBGTQ club. Still, Avrahami had found the previous rabbi to be supportive, and the past president was an ally and a personal friend. What’s more, Avrahami had just helped hire a new rabbi who had promised to handle sensitive topics carefully and with concern for all involved.
So Avrahami was shocked when her outreach to the new rabbi led to her exclusion from the synagogue, with the top Jewish legal authority at Yeshiva University personally telling her that she could no longer pray there.
“Not only were we members, we were very active members,” Avrahami told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency. “We hosted and sponsored kiddushes all the time. We had mazel tovs, [the birth of] our baby [was] posted in the newsletter, we helped run shul events. We were very close with the previous rabbi and rebbetzin and we were close with the current rabbi and rebbetzin.”
Avrahami’s quest to remain a part of the Shenk Shul, which unfolded over the past two months and culminated last week with her successful request for refunded dues, comes at a time of intense tension over the place of LGBTQ people in Modern Orthodox Jewish spaces.
Administrators at Shenk and Y.U. said they are trying to balance Orthodox interpretations of Jewish law, or halacha, and contemporary ideas around inclusion — two values that have sharply collided in Avrahami’s case.
Emails and text messages obtained by JTA show that many people involved in Avrahami’s situation expressed deep pain over her eventual exclusion. They also show that, despite a range of interpretations of Jewish law on LGBTQ issues present even within Modern Orthodoxy, the conclusions of Yeshiva University’s top Jewish legal authority, Rabbi Hershel Schachter, continue to drive practices within the university’s broader community.
“I completely understand (and am certainly perturbed by) the difficulty of the situation. Nobody wants to, chas v’shalom [God forbid], oust anybody, especially somebody who has been an active part of this community,” the synagogue’s president, Shimon Liebling, wrote in a Nov. 17 text message to his predecessor. But, he continued, “When it came down to it, the halachah stated this outcome. As much as we laud ourselves as a welcoming community, halachah cannot be compromised.”
Liebling went on, using the term for a rabbinic decision and referring to a ruling he said the synagogue rabbi had obtained from Schachter: “A psak is a psak.”
The saga began this fall, several weeks after Avrahami lost her short-lived job as an eighth-grade social studies teacher at Magen David Yeshivah in Brooklyn, which she had obtained after earning a master’s degree at Yeshiva University. She had been outed after a video of her in the classroom taken during parent night began circulating on social media.
Around the High Holidays, when Orthodox Jews spend many days in their synagogues, Avrahami learned that people within the Shenk Shul community were talking about her, some complaining about her presence. As she always had, she had spent the holidays praying in the women’s section of the gender-segregated congregation.
Concerned, Avrahami reached out to the new rabbi, Shai Kaminetzky. He confirmed the complaints and told her he wanted further guidance from a more senior rabbi to deal with the complex legal issue before him: Where is a trans woman’s place in the Orthodox synagogue?
For Avrahami and some others who identify as Modern Orthodox, this question has already been resolved. They heed the rulings of the late Rabbi Eliezer Waldenberg, known as the “Tzitz Eliezer,” an Orthodox legal scholar who died in 2006. He ruled that a trans woman who undergoes gender confirmation surgery is a woman according to Jewish law.
But Waldenberg’s determination is not universally held among Orthodox Jews — and one prominent rabbi who does not accept it is Hershel Schachter. In a 2017 Q&A, Schachter derided trans issues, saying about one trans Jew, “Why did he decide that God made a mistake? He looked so much better as a man than as a woman.” He also suggested that a trans person asking whether to sit in the men’s or women’s section should instead consider attending a Conservative or Reform synagogue, where worshippers are not separated by gender.
“We know we’d have no problem if we were at a Reform or Conservative synagogue when it comes to the acceptance issue. The thing is, that’s not the only thing in our life,” Bradley Avrahami told JTA.
The couple became religiously observant after spending time in Israel and the two now identify as Modern Orthodox. They were married by an Orthodox rabbi in 2018, and when they had their baby via surrogate in 2021, it was important to them that the infant go through a Jewish court to formally convert to Judaism. Avrahami seeks to fulfill the Jewish legal and cultural expectations of Orthodox women, wearing a wig and modest skirts. The pair both adhere to strict Shabbat and kashrut observance laws.
“We didn’t want to be the only family that kept kosher at the synagogue, we didn’t want to be the only family that is shomer Shabbat and shomer chag,” Bradley Avrahami added, referring to strict observance of the Sabbath and holiday restrictions. “It kind of becomes isolating.”
Kaminetzky kept both Talia Avrahami and Eitan Novick, the past president, in the loop about his research, in which he consulted with Schachter. It was a natural place for him to turn: He had studied at Yeshiva University’s Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary and learned from Schachter there. And while the Shenk Shul includes members not affiliated with Yeshiva University, it is closely entwined with Y.U., occupying space in a university building and hiring rabbis only from a list of options presented by the university.
After speaking with Schachter, Kaminetzky reached a conclusion, according to messages characterizing it by Liebling, the synagogue president.
“He made an halachic decision that Talia isn’t able to sit in the women’s section for the time being,” Liebling wrote Nov. 17 in a message to his predecessor as president, Eitan Novick. But Liebling left the door open for change, writing, “All in all, the ‘official shul policy’ is still being decided.”
He said Kaminetzky had spoken extensively the previous evening with the Avrahamis and had been determined to share his judgment in a way that was respectful “despite the difficult-to hear halachic conclusion.”
Liebling added a parenthetical: “I honestly can’t imagine how difficult it is for them. If I were told I couldn’t sit in the men’s section, I’d be beyond heartbroken and likewise feel displaced.”
Talia Avrahami did indeed feel heartbroken. She told Kaminetzky and others that she felt like she wanted to die, alarming her friends and prompting some of them to reach out to the rabbi. “The concern about Talia’s well-being is likewise the #1 — and only — factor on my mind right now,” Kaminetzky told one of them that night.
The Avrahamis stopped attending the Shenk Shul, but they held out hope for Kaminetzky to change his mind, or for the synagogue to set a firm policy that would permit her participation. Over the next six weeks, though, they heard nothing — a situation that so disappointed Novick that he and his wife also stopped attending. (Kaminetzky’s third child was born during this time.)
“We really feel like this is a pretty significant deviation from the community that we have been a part of for 11 years, which has always been a very accepting place,” Novick said. “This is just not the community that I feel comfortable being a part of if these are the decisions that are being made. It’s not just about the Avrahamis.”
While Avrahami waited for more information, Yeshiva University and Schachter were already in the process of rolling out what they saw as a compromise in a different conflagration over LGBTQ inclusion at the school. Arguing that homosexuality is incompatible with the school’s religious values, Yeshiva University has been fighting not to have to recognize an LGBTQ student group, the YU Pride Alliance, and has even asked the Supreme Court to weigh in after judges in New York ruled against the university. This fall, the school announced that it would launch a separate club endorsed by Schachter, claiming it would represent LGBTQ students “under traditional Orthodox auspices.” (The YU Pride Alliance called the new club “a desperate stunt” by the university.)
Multiple people encouraged Avrahami to make her case directly to Schachter. When she headed to a meeting with the rabbi on Jan. 1, she hoped that putting a face to her name and explaining her situation, including that she had undergone a full medical transition, might widen his thinking about LGBTQ inclusion in Orthodoxy.
The meeting lasted just 15 minutes. And according to Avrahami, who said Schachter told her she was the first trans person he had ever met, it didn’t go well.
In an email to another rabbi who attended the meeting, Menachem Penner, Avrahami said Schachter had called her “unOrthodox” and accused him of “bullying Rabbi Shai Kaminetzky into accepting bigoted psaks.”
Penner, the dean of Yeshiva’s rabbinical school, characterized the conversation differently.
“Rabbi Schachter rules that it is prohibited to undergo transgender surgery and does not accept the opinion of the Tzitz Eliezer post-facto,” he wrote in an email response that day in which he denied that Kaminetzky had been pressured to follow Schachter’s opinion.
“That’s simply a halachic opinion that many hold,” Penner wrote. “He did not call you ‘unorthodox’ — you come across as very sincere in your Judaism and he wished you hatzlacha [success] — but simply said that the surgery was unorthodox, meaning it was not something that is accepted by what he feels is Orthodox Judaism.”
The meeting so angered Avrahami that she asked Liebling to refund her Shenk Shul dues that day, saying that Kaminetzky had kicked her out of the congregation.
“Of course! I’ll send back the money ASAP!” Liebling responded. “I’m so sorry how things are ending up.”
Yeshiva University and Schachter, through a representative, declined to comment, referring questions directly to the Shenk Shul. Kaminetzky directed requests for comment to a representative for the Shenk Shul.
“We have had several conversations with the Avrahamis and we understand their concerns,” the Shenk Shul said in a statement. “It’s important to emphasize that the Avrahamis were not asked to leave the congregation.”
That response doesn’t sit right with Novick, who said blocking Talia Avrahami from praying on both the men’s and women’s sides of the synagogue was tantamount to ejecting her.
“They seem to be trying to have their cake and eat it, too,” he said of the synagogue’s leadership. “They may not be wrong in saying they didn’t tell Talia she was ‘kicked out’ of Shenk, but they’ve created a rule that makes it impossible for her to be a full participant in our community.”
Bradley Avrahami argued that the rabbis who ruled on his wife’s case were short-sighted, giving too little weight to the fact that Jewish law requires Jews to violate other rules in order to save a life. Referring to that principle and pointing to the fact that transgender people are at increased risk of suicide, he said, “It was pikuach nefesh for the person to have the surgery.” His brother, he noted, survived two suicide attempts after coming out as trans.
“They really just don’t understand the harm that they caused when they make these decisions and put out these opinions,” Bradley Avrahami said. “A rabbi should not take a position knowing that that position will cause someone to want to harm themselves.”
Bradley Avrahami said he has received several harassing calls to his work number at Yeshiva University’s Azrieli Graduate School, where he is liaison for student enrollment and communications and taught Hebrew in the fall 2022 semester. Talia Avrahami, meanwhile, has struggled to find a job to replace the one she left under pressure in September, although she recently announced that she had landed a temporary position.
For now, they are attending another synagogue in Washington Heights, though Talia says she and her husband would consider returning to Shenk Shul if she were invited back and permitted to participate.
So far, there are no signs of that happening. On Jan. 1, after her meeting with Schachter, Talia sent a WhatsApp message to Kaminetzky.
“We elected you because you said you would stand up for LGBT people, not kick us out of shul,” she wrote.
The message went unanswered.
—
The post An Orthodox woman says she is no longer welcome to pray at a New York synagogue because she is trans appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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Herzog speaks with Jerusalem Reform synagogue leaders, personally checks in with police
(JTA) — President Isaac Herzog called leaders of Jerusalem’s Kol HaNeshama Reform congregation on the eve of the Sukkot holiday to express solidarity following a string of attacks against the synagogue and took the matter up with Israel Police, his office told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency on Sunday.
The call came days after Jerusalem police arrested three minors suspected of involvement in a series of incidents targeting the congregation over recent weeks, including break-ins, vandalism and harassment.
Herzog expressed his “solidarity and support” for the congregation and stressed “the utmost importance of freedom of worship for all in Israel,” according to his office.
Oded Mazor, Kol HaNeshama’s leading rabbi, told JTA that Herzog spoke Friday with him and the congregation’s executive director, Anna Astmaker, describing Kol HaNeshama as “an important and valued Jerusalem institution.”
Herzog “condemned the attacks and the harassment of the community,” Mazor said and welcomed the arrests.
“We thanked him warmly for the call, for his concern and appreciation, and invited him to visit our sukkah during the holiday,” Mazor said.
Herzog called Mazor again on Sunday after speaking with Jerusalem’s police commander, saying police were taking the investigation “very seriously” and examining whether someone else was behind the youths’ actions, Mazor said. Herzog’s office confirmed the follow-up call.
Police said the minors were suspected of property damage and “insult to religion,” and said they would ask a court to extend their detention, Channel 13 reported.
In August, vandals broke into the synagogue, smashed a window and tore down a Pride flag. Weeks later, on Rosh Hashanah, youths threw eggs at worshippers arriving for services after first approaching members of the congregation with comments that Debi Shoua Haim, one of Kol HaNeshama’s rabbis, said were “homophobic and bordered on harassment.”
Around Yom Kippur, the synagogue was targeted three more times. Plates and other breakable objects were thrown through a window. An intruder later broke in and tore down a Pride flag and a rainbow-colored sign reading “Love your neighbor as yourself.” And on Yom Kippur morning, two youths arrived with a large dog and, in apparent mockery, asked to arrange a bar mitzvah for the animal.
Mazor said the congregation had been receiving updates from police but had not been told which of the five incidents the three minors were suspected of involvement in or the precise allegations against them. Officers had also “made a point of checking in with us,” he said, in a bid to maintain good relations with the congregation.
Jerusalem Mayor Moshe Lion condemned the attacks and expressed support for the congregation in a private conversation with Mazor before Yom Kippur, but Mazor said he was disappointed that Lion had not spoken out publicly.
Mazor contrasted Lion’s silence with his public responses to previous vandalism of Orthodox synagogues in the city, saying it was “unfortunate” that a Reform synagogue was being treated differently, and suggested it may reflect the mayor’s political considerations, given the influence of haredi parties in Jerusalem politics.
“When there have been previous incidents of violence and vandalism against Orthodox synagogues in the city, he knew how to show up and take a stand. He knows how to speak out clearly against violence,” Mazor said. “So I’m disappointed that in this case, when it involves a Reform synagogue, things are being handled differently.”
The congregation also asked Herzog to urge Lion to speak out publicly, Mazor said.
“If the city’s leadership does not speak out against violence, then, heaven forbid, it sends a message of acceptance of that violence,” he said.
Lion’s office rejected the suggestion that political considerations explained the mayor’s failure to condemn the attacks publicly at the time. His spokesperson said the city deliberately avoided drawing further attention to the synagogue “so as not to escalate things.”
Lion contacted Jerusalem district police commander Avshalom Peled to request additional forces for the synagogue while also instructing the municipality’s policing division to increase its presence there.
He also issued a statement Sunday condemning recent violence in the city. “I strongly condemn any attack, by anyone, on what is sacred to others, their activities, customs and ways of life,” he said. His office said the statement encompassed the attacks on Kol HaNeshama, though it did not name the synagogue.
Shoua Haim echoed Mazor’s call for public statements from both the government and Jerusalem’s leadership, warning that “this incitement could get worse if we don’t all work together to stop it.”
The congregation invited Herzog to a solidarity event at Kol HaNeshama on Wednesday, organized with Jerusalem communities from across the Jewish denominational spectrum. The gathering will express support for the congregation and opposition to “violence and fanaticism,” Mazor said.
After the first attack in August, members of different congregations, including Orthodox synagogues, joined Kol HaNeshama for a Kabbalat Shabbat service in support of the congregation.
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post Herzog speaks with Jerusalem Reform synagogue leaders, personally checks in with police appeared first on The Forward.
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Jewish establishment heavy hitters are joining J Street in a sign of the changing times
(JTA) — J Street, the Jewish advocacy group that calls itself pro-Israel and pro-peace, has sought a seat at the Jewish establishment table since its inception in 2008 – and has been repeatedly rebuffed.
Now it is building its own table.
The lobby has lined up heavy hitters from the Jewish establishment to further its claim to speak for a substantial portion of the American Jewish community on Israel. In doing so, it’s making the case that its record of putting pressure on Israel’s governments and its criticism of the Israeli military should no longer be dealbreakers for mainstream Jewish organizations.
On Monday, J Street is forming a Jewish Community Advisory Council that includes past leaders of groups that define the establishment. They include the Conference of Presidents of Major American Jewish Organizations, the American Jewish Committee, the Jewish Agency for Israel and the UJA-Jewish Federation of New York.
“Together their advice, support and critiques will help advance an agenda that bolsters the Israel promised in its Declaration of Independence, thriving in relationships with both the United States and the American Jewish community – steeped in our values – for generations to come,” the group said in a release shared exclusively with the Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
This fresh effort to test whether the American Jewish establishment can tolerate J Street’s brand of “tough love” Israel activism comes three years after Hamas’ deadly raids inside Israel. J Street supports the state’s existence but has been highly critical of how the Israeli military has prosecuted the war in Gaza. It also stridently opposes its right-wing governments and advocates for U.S. pressure on Israel to make peace with the Palestinians, including by withholding weapons sales to Jerusalem.
The move is happening amid seismic shifts the Gaza war has seeded in the American Jewish community: On one side, younger Jews are increasingly alienated from Israel, evident in polling, as the country is led by its furthest right government ever; on the other, the Diaspora has been roiled by an explosion of antisemitic expression with criticism of Israel often exploited by the worst enemies of the Jews.
At the same time, given Israel’s diminishing reputation among Americans, especially Democrats, J Street sees an opportunity to make inroads with Jewish leaders who want to have strong relationships with U.S. politicians. Its president, Jeremy Ben-Ami, told JTA in an interview that the group was the best avenue to stem the growth of extremist anti-Israel voices among Democrats – the party substantial majorities of Jews still vote for – especially as many Jews want to oppose the Trump administration because they believe it is veering toward authoritarianism and associates with bigots.
“The issue that I would say we’re well positioned to address is to say, for Jews who want to not live under MAGA and Donald Trump, ‘We want to ensure that there’s a Democratic Party that adheres to the J Street line, that does not negate the right of the Jewish people to a state, but does oppose what the Jewish state is doing,’” he said.
Ben-Ami argued that making J Street the voice of the community among Democrats would help it stem the insurgency on the party’s left because it would keep Jewish votes and donations flowing to Democrats, blunting both anti-Israel sentiments in the party and Trump’s power in the second half of his second term.
Among the names on the new council:
- Bob Goodkind, the president of the American Jewish Committee from 2004-2007.
- John Ruskay, the CEO of the UJA-Jewish Federation of New York from 1999-2014.
- Alan Solow and Seymour Reich, both past chairmen of the Conference of Presidents of Major American Jewish Organizations.
- Charles Ratner, past chair of the Board of Governors of the Jewish Agency for Israel from 2014-2017.
- Rabbi Eric Yoffie, the president of the Union for Reform Judaism from 1996-2012.
- Nancy Kaufman, the CEO of the National Council of Jewish Women from 2010-2019.
- Rabbi Ismar Schorsch, the chancellor of the Conservative movement’s Jewish Theological Seminary from 1986-2006.
J Street also announced in the same release that Rabbi David Saperstein, the director emeritus of the Reform movement’s Religious Action Center, is joining J Street’s Board of Directors.
The new council, its members said in interviews, will exert influence on the Jewish conversation about Israel by reaching out to local federations, where many of its members have served. And it will also do so simply by existing – with a panoply of people who were once ardent establishmentarians welcoming J Street.
“You have to try to find a way to get the leadership [of federations] to be at least open to hearing another point of view,” said Ratner, who headed the federation in Cleveland from 2000-2003 and who is a member of one of that city’s leading philanthropic families.
UJA’s Ruskay told JTA that the consensus he and others once hewed to – that American Jewish organizations must defer wholly to Israel’s government of the day when it comes to its security – is faltering. (70 Faces Media, the parent company of the Jewish Telegraphic Agency, receives UJA funding.)
“There are now multiple views of what it means to be ‘pro-Israel’ in the American Jewish
community,” he said. “I believe this is healthy, reflecting different perspectives on what is best for Israel. We need to provide space for discussion and civil debate within our community for all groups committed to Jewish sovereignty in our ancient homeland – those we agree with, and those we don’t.”
But many leaders of mainstream organizations aren’t convinced that endorsing J Street’s perspective is beneficial for Israel or American Jews.
Jason Shames, the executive director of the Jewish Federation of Northern New Jersey, said differing perspectives on Israel’s security are a gift to Israel’s enemies at a time when the country is in crisis.
“They want to see change within Israel, which is fair, and they do not want to see the demise of Israel,” Shames said. “The problem is that balancing act, in today’s social media era, means that the haters and those who do want Israel’s demise inherently see that as an asset and a value to their cause, and that’s where the breakdown is. That’s why I think you see resistance from people like me.”
Other critics of J Street, however, said the group is simply not representative of pro-Israel activism in this country, and it’s a mistake to invite in an organization so contrary to the stances of so many.
“Mainstream Jewish organizations should not pretend J Street represents the pro-Israel mainstream,” said one former top federation official who requested anonymity to speak frankly. “An organization that seeks to condition aid, block weapons, excuse votes to eliminate security assistance and support damaging actions against Israel at the United Nations has placed itself outside that consensus. A big tent still needs boundaries. If pro-Israel can mean anything, it means nothing.”
J Street has long faced resistance to its advocacy for U.S. pressure on Israel to move toward a two-state solution and its criticism of many Israeli actions since its inception in 2008. For a time, the group concealed the fact that a leading donor was George Soros, the billionaire who has been lacerating in his criticism of Israel’s governments and the American Israel Public Affairs Committee. This is because J Street’s leadership believed his name was anathema in the community. Soros had initially declined to help launch the group out of concern that his involvement would be used against it. J Street initially avoided directly tangling with AIPAC, but in recent years, the two organizations frequently go head to head on social media.
The dissembling about Soros was exposed in 2010, but even before the revelations, J Street’s outreach to the mainstream was having little success. Establishment organizations discouraged synagogues and Jewish community centers from hosting its speakers. It sought membership in the umbrella group, the Conference of Presidents of Major American Jewish Organizations, in 2014 and was rejected.
J Street initially supported Israel’s military response in Gaza, saying that it “strongly supports Israel’s right to defend itself proportionately against the threat of relentless rockets and to destroy tunnels leading into Israel.” But it later accused the government of ignoring Palestinian suffering. “We take issue with those who say that discussing how to end the violence in the long run is not pro-Israel,” it said.
J Street joined other liberal groups in March 2024 in calling on President Joe Biden to bring about a ceasefire in Gaza. The move came after months of pressure from progressives who accused the liberal Zionist groups of not doing enough to call for an end to the fighting. It also came as Israel was preparing to enter Rafah despite U.S. pressure to refrain from doing so.
In November of the same year, when the International Criminal Court issued arrest warrants for Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and former Defense Minister Yoav Gallant, J Street did not quite endorse the warrants. But it did call on the organized Jewish community not to “blame [the warrants] on antisemitism or inherent enmity for Israel” – a departure from the response of several major Jewish organizations, which strongly denounced the ICC’s action as anti-Jewish.
Last year, Ben-Ami, under what he acknowledged was pressure from the left, retreated from his argument that Israel was not committing genocide, and now J Street is ambivalent on the issue.
But despite the antagonism his positions have sparked among mainstream Jewish leaders, Ben-Ami argued that keeping young people invested in Israel’s survival is an acute challenge – and that it won’t happen by discouraging dissent.
Finally, he said, that point has been absorbed by the establishment, which made it easy to get the former bigwigs on board with the council.
“There is a level of fear setting in among people who have devoted decades and decades of their lives to Zionism and to the U.S.-Israel relationship,” he said. “Fear about where we’re headed, fear about where Israel is headed, the kind of Israel that is going to be left behind, and a recognition that perhaps after all these decades, providing unconditional support and no daylight wasn’t the best idea, you know, and we need to have an open and honest conversation.”
He continued, “Some of these folks are recognizing that the essence of what J Street argued for the last 20 years, it turns out, is really important right now.”
Solow, a past chairman of the Conference of Presidents, recalled making those arguments himself when he advocated in 2014 for J Street’s inclusion in the organization.
“It has become increasingly apparent that excluding J Street from these conversations is a communal error because it discourages many young people who want to be involved in a positive way in supporting an Israel that they very much want to believe in,” he said. “It discourages them from being included in the community and in the communal discussion.”
UJA’s Ruskay said he was appalled by reports that the Jewish campus organization Hillel discouraged its chapters from working with J Street U, J Street’s student affiliate, most recently in the case of the Hillel chapter at the University of Michigan.
“When I hear that J Street is not welcomed in certain Hillels, we need J Street in Hillels!” he said. Hillel did not return a request for comment.
NCJW’s Kaufman is on the board of a number of organizations that stridently oppose the current government led by Netanyahu. Similar to joining those other boards, her participation in the J Street council is a matter of penitence for her past at the NCJW and the Boston-area Jewish Community Relations Council before that.
“I feel like we didn’t say enough. I really do. It’s my issue. I feel like we should have spoken out more,” she said.
She recalled feeling ill when she saw J Street voted down at the Conference of Presidents, which at the same time allowed in AEPi, a fraternity that she believed held conservative views unrepresentative of young Jews.
“This was a ‘We have met the enemy and he is us’ moment,” said Kaufman, who at the time was present in her capacity as NCJW CEO. “It was a shanda,” she added, using the Yiddish word for scandal.
An influential vote against J Street at that meeting was the American Jewish Committee, which nullified the nod J Street had received from other mainstream groups such as the Anti-Defamation League and the Reform movement.
David Harris, then the AJC CEO, said he doesn’t regret the way his group voted then and that he would recommend the same vote now.
“I don’t believe it is the role of American Jews — who live thousands of miles from Israel, reject aliyah, don’t face life-and-death military service and don’t have to take their children and elderly to bomb shelters day and night — to seek to influence existentially important issues affecting Israel and its vital link with the United States,” he said.
He added that such lobbying for U.S. pressure on Israel is “inappropriate and, yes, harmful.” The same goes, he said, for right-wing groups that seek U.S. pressure on Israel for their favored outcomes.
The Jewish Agency’s Ratner, who once gave to AIPAC, said that organization is now too closely associated with the right wings in the United States and Israel. “I think as AIPAC became more and more reactionary and right wing, and it just didn’t feel right to me anymore,” he said.
AIPAC, which did not return a request for comment, has said that it continues to enjoy the support of donors and elected officials from both American parties.
Ratner said that whatever “center” there was among American Jews is disappearing.
“I don’t think J Street has yet achieved the position where it’s viewed as a centrist position. Nor do I think that AIPAC anymore is a centrist position, and I think that’s one of the challenges the community has. Where is there room for a centrist position?” he asked.
Jeremy Burton, the CEO of the Jewish Community Relations Council of Greater Boston, said the notion that the community can rally around a single Israel position is antiquated, though it was once commonplace among establishment Jewish organizations.
“The project of American Jews speaking with one coordinated voice – and I say this as a CEO of an independent JCRC that has 40 member organizations, including J Street – I don’t know that that project looks the same way it did even a decade or so ago in terms of the formal infrastructure of collective voice,” said Burton, who is not involved in the new J Street council.
The groups who participated in the 2014 vote did not return or declined requests for comment on where they stand now, as did a number of federation officials. Among those not commenting were the Jewish Federations of North America, AIPAC, the ADL, the AJC and the Conference of Presidents.
Saperstein said one role that he, as a board member, and the new council could play would be to advise J Street “that it has to be clearer about the Ahavat Yisrael aspect of its work,” referring to the principle of “Love of Israel,” which applies to the country and the Jewish community.
Religious Action Center’s Saperstein said he expected J Street would robustly speak out against those who oppose all weapons sales to Israel since the organization itself only opposes some offensive weapons sales, which it believes should be conditioned on Israeli behavior. It does not oppose sales of defensive weapons, which anti-Israel political forces have increasingly proposed.
Ben-Ami said J Street’s best strategy was to make its case and not seek the marginalization of others, however extreme their positions.
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post Jewish establishment heavy hitters are joining J Street in a sign of the changing times appeared first on The Forward.
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They led protests against Netanyahu. Can they turn outrage into political power?
On Oct. 7, Israelis will come together to commemorate the third anniversary of the Hamas attack. Three weeks later, they will gather again, this time at the voting booth, for the first national election since Nov. 2022. The shadow of the first event will no doubt loom large over the second.
The election is expected to serve, in large part, as a referendum on Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and his coalition’s refusal to take responsibility for the failures of Oct. 7. But the fallout will also appear on the ballot itself, which will include several candidates whose lives were upended on that fateful day and the three tumultuous years that followed.
Some stepped into these leadership roles reluctantly, like Likud hopeful Talik Gvili, whose son Ran was the last deceased hostage to return from Gaza, and Sharon Sharabi of Yisrael Beiteinu, whose brothers Yossi and Eli were taken captive; only Eli returned alive.
Alongside those propelled unwittingly into the public eye are a slew of activists-turned-candidates whose path to political leadership was more deliberate. Many rose to prominence in early 2023, during the mass demonstrations against the government’s attempted judicial overhaul. After Oct. 7, they co-led the struggle to free the hostages, together with family members, and then went on to revive the anti-government protests, demanding accountability and calling for elections.
Elections in which they are now candidates.
With A Place for All, the Jewish-Arab party launched by Standing Together leaders, having withdrawn from the race earlier this month, the overwhelming majority of activists have found their political home inside the left-wing, liberal Zionist party formed in 2024 through a merger of Labor and Meretz now known as The Democrats.
Record-high voter turnout for the party’s internal primaries held this past July, and recent polling projecting they will secure at least 10 electoral seats, point to a groundswell of support among protest supporters. But can a movement that repeatedly brought tens of thousands of Israelis into the streets and helped force a pause in the judicial overhaul translate that mobilization into lasting political power? And for the candidates themselves – many with no prior political experience – what does it take to go from protesting outside the Knesset to making decisions inside of it?
For protest leader Yaya Fink, who secured the fifth position on The Democrats’ slate, the answer lies in shifting from resistance to rebuilding.
“The protests were about stopping things from happening. Now it’s time to make things happen,” Fink told the Forward, a transition he describes as “both critically important and completely natural.”
“You cannot stay in crisis-prevention mode forever,” Fink said. “We are incredibly proud of what we accomplished. But it’s time for the next phase: repairing what’s broken, creating change, building anew.”
Fink, a religious activist who helped establish the public-interest lobbying organization Lobby 99, has been involved in social justice movements for most of his adult life. But he describes the judicial overhaul as the first time he felt he was fighting for the country’s very identity as a liberal democracy. “It’s the cause that most affected me as a person and that I also feel I had the most effect on,” he recalled.
From outside the Knesset to inside
Fink is one of more than a dozen candidates near the top of The Democrats’ ticket with a background in activism. Joining him are reservist organizer Omri Ronen; high-tech protest leader Moshe Radman; Moran Zer Katzenstein, founder of Building an Alternative; Arab-Israeli peace activist Somaya Bashir; and Avi Dabush, executive director of Rabbis for Human Rights.
Yair Golan, at the top of the ticket, followed by incumbent lawmakers Naama Lazimi, Gilad Kariv and Efrat Reytan were also regular fixtures on the protest circuit. “These were the politicians who were out on the streets with us day after day, week after week,” Fink said. “It was a natural fit for us to join their party.”
The transition from protest to politics has clear historical precedence in Israel, according to Doron Shultziner, a professor in the Government, Communication and Diplomacy department at Jerusalem Multidisciplinary College who studies social movements,
In the 1970s, Moroccan immigrants Charlie Biton and Saadia Marciano were part of Israel’s Black Panthers, a group of militant radicals who were regularly arrested and often faced police brutality in their struggle against the racism and poverty Mizrahi Jews encountered at the time. Eventually, the two men entered politics on left-wing tickets, continuing their fight for equal treatment for Mizrahi Jews and emerging as early supporters of peace with the Palestinians.
But infighting and limited political influence prevented them from affecting significant change, even for Biton, who served 15 years in the Knesset. In general, Shultziner cautions against assuming that prominence in a protest movement automatically translates to success in office.
“Clearly, politics and protest are two completely different ball games,” he said. “The career of a politician is haphazard and is affected by so many events that they cannot control.”
Similarly, Shultziner pointed to the social justice protest of 2011, when Israelis pitched tents on Tel Aviv’s Rothschild Blvd. and marched in the streets to protest soaring housing costs and economic inequality. As the protest began to wind down, movement leaders Stav Shaffir and Itzik Shmuli moved into politics, securing spots on the Labor ticket in 2013. Shaffir gained prominence demanding budget transparency but spent her parliamentary career in opposition. After leaving Labor in 2019 for a rival left-wing alliance, she was excluded from subsequent electoral partnerships and left the Knesset in 2020.
Shmuli managed to became labor and welfare minister but, as Shultziner explained, his advancement came at a price: “Despite campaigning on a promise not to serve under Netanyahu, he joined Labor leader Amir Peretz in taking the party into the Netanyahu–Gantz unity government, a decision that alienated their supporters. He ended up retiring the following year.”
“So, it really depends on how you define success,” Shultziner noted.
Will protests and protesters change Israeli politics?
For Fink, who remembers these broken promises all too well, loyalty is central to The Democrats’ appeal. “In addition to standing shoulder to shoulder with us on the streets, they were also steadfast in representing the movement in the Knesset,” he said. “It just made sense to go in with people who have demonstrated they cannot be bought by Netanyahu.”
But before Fink can think about the Knesset, he and his fellow Democrats must focus on the road to get there. With Election Day only weeks away, the question is how wide to cast their net.
According to the Israeli Democracy Institute (IDI), by July of 2025, around 1.5 million Israelis were estimated to have taken part in at least one demonstration in the previous three years. And yet most polls have The Democrats at around 10 seats, or roughly 400,000 votes, a significant difference.
“Over time, we see a growing perception that the protests did not succeed in transforming Israel’s political system,” explained Dr. Tamar Hermann, a senior research fellow at IDI.
“With The Democrats’ identity so deeply intertwined with the protest movement, that disillusionment has led voters to look elsewhere.”
An even bigger obstacle may be the ideological gap between protester and party. “They were certainly united in their opposition to the judicial reform. But The Democrats as a party is significantly to the left of many of the protesters,” she said. “The majority of those who showed up consistently were quite conservative. They tend to benefit from a status quo they would like to preserve, which contradicts The Democrats’ message of change and revolution.”
Paradoxically, the movement’s public image may also hamper efforts to reach beyond it. ”In the collective Israeli psyche, the protestors, and by extension The Democrats, are so strongly associated with being Ashkenazi, urban, secular, quasi-socialist, and highly educated.” Hermann said. “Which doesn’t appeal to a broad audience.” That perception is not totally unfounded. A January 2023 IDI survey, conducted during the judicial overhaul protests, found that 20% of Ashkenazi respondents reported participating in protest activities, compared with 10% of Mizrahi respondents; participation among secular Jews was 27%, compared with only 4% among religious Zionists, with most of the large-scale demonstrations taking place in Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, and Haifa.
But beyond the data, the image carries historical baggage which still lingers today. Israel’s Labor movement, The Democrats’ political forebear, was dominated by Ashkenazi Jews of European ancestry while Mizrahi Jews, driven by the marginalization they faced, helped bring Netanyahu’s Likud party to power in the late 1970s.
Hermann notes that even reaching the projected 10 seats will be a huge accomplishment, a sentiment echoed by Shultziner. “Just the fact that they managed to register over 100,000 voters is an impressive feat,” he said. “People who would never have voted for labor in the past are now registering early with the Democrats just so they can vote in the primaries.”
Fink, however, remains determined to reach beyond the party’s base.
“I am a religious man who lives in the North,” he said, “not exactly the stereotypical ‘Kaplanist,’ ” a pejorative nickname for protesters drawn from Tel Aviv’s Kaplan Street, the demonstrations’ main gathering place.
“But who you vote for should not be determined by whether you are religious or secular, Jewish or Arab. Whether you live in the big city or an outlying community.
“The only thing that matters is whether you want Israel to be a liberal democracy or a semi-fascist state. Do you want a government that is honest or one that is crooked? Do you want your money to go to draft dodgers or those who serve? To yet another illegal outpost or to recovery efforts?”
Fink’s message echoes that of the protest movement he helped lead for nearly four years. But it also captures the challenge facing his party: whether the solidarity forged in the streets can survive the compromises of coalition politics. Already, the Democrats’ willingness to govern alongside an Arab party has exposed divisions among their potential partners. Still, their growing momentum and strong polling numbers suggest they may be on the road to fulfilling another promise of the protests – unseating Netanyahu and rewriting the government’s agenda.
The post They led protests against Netanyahu. Can they turn outrage into political power? appeared first on The Forward.

