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Synagogues are joining the ‘effective altruism’ movement. Will the Sam Bankman-Fried scandal stop them?
(JTA) — A few years ago, Adam Azari was frustrated over how little he could do to alleviate suffering in the world with his modest income as a writer and caretaker for people with disabilities.
He kept thinking about a set of statistics and ideas he had encountered during his graduate studies in philosophy. For example, he remembered reading that for the price of training a guide dog for the blind in the United States, one could prevent hundreds of cases of blindness in the developing world.
This hyper-rational way of thinking about doing good was called effective altruism, and it was growing into a movement, known as E.A. for short. Some proponents were even opting to pursue lucrative careers in finance and tech that they otherwise might not have chosen so they would have more money to give away.
Azari, meanwhile, had become a believer who was stuck on the sidelines. Then, one day, he had what he calls a “personal eureka moment.” Azari would return to his roots as the son of a Reform rabbi in Tel Aviv and spread the word of E.A. across the Jewish denomination and among its millions of followers.
“It suddenly hit me that the Reform movement has this crazy untapped potential to save thousands and thousands of lives by simply informing Jews about effective giving,” he recalled.
He badgered his father, Rabbi Meir Azari, and, for a moment, thought of becoming a rabbi himself. But he abandoned the idea and focused on pitching E.A. to the Reform movement’s international arm, the World Union for Progressive Judaism. Azari found an ally in WUPJ’s president, Rabbi Sergio Bergman, and the organization soon decided to sponsor his efforts, paying him a salary for his work.
Over the past year, Azari’s Jewish Effective Giving Initiative has presented to about 100 rabbis and secured pledges from 37 Reform congregations to donate at least $3,000 to charities rated as the most impactful by E.A. advocates and which aid poor people in the developing world. Per E.A. calculations, it costs $3,000 to $5,000 to save a single life.
“Progressive Judaism inspires us to carry out tikkun olam, our concrete action to make the world better and repair its injustices,” Bergman said. “With this call we not only do what the heart dictates in values, but also do it effectively to be efficient and responsible for saving a life.”
This charitable philosophy appears to be gaining traction in the Jewish world just as one of the figures most associated with it, who happens to be Jewish, has become engulfed in scandal.
Sam Bankman-Fried built a cryptocurrency empire worth billions, amassing a fortune he pledged to give away to causes such as artificial intelligence, combatting biohazards and climate change, all selected on criteria developed by the proponents of effective altruism.
A few weeks ago, Bankman-Fried’s fortune evaporated amid suspicions of financial misconduct and revelations of improper oversight at his company, FTX, a cryptocurrency exchange that was worth as much as $32 billion before a run of withdrawals ultimately left it illiquid. The situation has drawn comparisons to the implosion of Bernie Madoff’s Ponzi scheme, and authorities investigating the situation have said Bankman-Fried could face criminal penalties over his role.
In the wake of FTX’s collapse, Bankman-Fried has suggested that his embrace of E.A. was insincere, a tactic to bolster his reputation.
But Azari and the organizer of another initiative, a growing reading and discussion group called Effective Altruism for Jews, are undaunted and don’t believe the scandal should taint the underlying principles of the movement.
“Whether you call it E.A. or just directly donating to global health and development, it doesn’t matter,” Azari said. “The basic idea is to support these wonderful charities, and I don’t think the FTX scandal changes any of that. Malaria nets, vitamin A supplements and vaccine distribution are still super cost-effective, evidence-based ways of helping others.”
Azari added that he has had several meetings with rabbis since the news about Bankman-Fried broke and that no one has asked him about it.
“I don’t think people are making the connection,” he said. “And to me, there is no connection between us and FTX.”
When talking to rabbis about why E.A. would make a good fit with their congregation’s charitable mission, Azari cites the Jewish value of tikkun olam, a mandate to “repair the world” often used to implore people to care for others. He explains that donating to charities with a proven track record is a concrete way to fulfill a Jewish responsibility.
That kind of thinking proved attractive to Steven Pinker, the prominent Harvard psychologist, who has endorsed Azari’s initiative. In a recorded discussion with Azari and others last year, Pinker recalled his Reform upbringing, which included Hebrew school, summer camp and synagogue services.
“The thing I remember most is how much of my so-called religious education was like a university course in moral philosophy,” Pinker said. “We chewed over moral dilemmas.”
As an adult, Pinker returned to Jewish teachings on charity and, in particular, those of the medieval philosopher Maimonides, examining these ideas through the lens of E.A. He began to wonder about the implications of Maimonides’ focus on evaluating charity based on the motives of the donor. That focus, he concluded, doesn’t always lead to the best outcomes for the beneficiary.
“What ultimately ought to count in tzedakah, in charity, is, are you making people better off?” he said.
Also on the panel with Azari and Pinker was the man credited with authoring the foundational texts upon which E.A. is built. Peter Singer, who is also Jewish and whose grandfather died in the Holocaust, teaches bioethics at Princeton. Starting in the 1970s, Singer wrote a series of books in which he argues for a utilitarian approach to ethics, namely, that we should forgo luxuries and spend our money to save lives. The extremes to which he has taken his thinking include suggesting that parents of newborn babies with severe disabilities be permitted to kill them.
From Bankman-Fried to Singer, the list of Jews who have either promoted E.A. or lead its institutions is long. With their estimated fortune of $11.3 billion, Facebook co-founder Dustin Moskovitz and his wife Cari Tuna have eclipsed Bankman-Fried as the wealthiest Jews in the field. There’s also popular philosopher Sam Harris and New York Times columnist Ezra Klein, who have each dedicated episodes of their podcast to the topic.
The website LessWrong, which defines itself as “a community blog devoted to refining the art of rationality,” is seen as an important early influence; it was founded by Eliezer Yudkowsky, an artificial intelligence researcher who grew up in a Modern Orthodox household but does not identify religiously as a Jew anymore. Two other Jews, Holden Karnofsky and Elie Hassenfeld, left the hedge fund world to establish GiveWell, a group whose research is considered the premier authority on which charities are deserving of E.A. donations.
The prevalence of Jews in the movement caught the attention of E.A. enthusiast Ben Schifman, an environmental lawyer for the federal government in Washington, D.C. About two years ago, Schifman proposed creating a group for like-minded individuals in hope of helping grow the movement. In an online post, he laid out the history of Jewish involvement and wrote a brief introduction to the topic of Judaism and charity.
Today, Schifmam runs a group called Effective Altruism for Jews, whose main program is an eight-week fellowship involving a reading and discussion group with designated facilitators. Schifman said about 70 people spread across 10 cohorts are currently participating. There’s also a Shabbat dinner program to bring people together for informal meetings with funding available for hosts.
Participants discuss how ideas that are popular in E.A. might relate to Jewish traditions and concepts, and also brainstorm ways to popularize the movement in the wider Jewish community, according to Schifman.
“There’s a lot of low-hanging fruit with regards to the Jewish community and sharing some of the ideas of Effective Altruism, like through giving circles at synagogues or, during the holidays, offering charities that are effective,” Schifman said in an interview that took place before the Bankman-Fried scandal broke.
Asked to discuss the mood in the community following the collapse of Bankman-Fried’s company and an affiliated charity, FTX Future Fund, Schifman provided a brief statement expressing continued confidence in his project.
He said, “While we’re shocked by the news and our hearts go out to all those affected, as an organization EA for Jews isn’t funded by FTX Future Fund or otherwise connected to FTX. We don’t expect our work will be impacted.”
Even if Schifman and Azari are right that their movement is robust enough to withstand the downfall of a leading evangelist, a debate remains about what impact E.A. can or should have on philanthropy itself.
Andres Spokoiny, president and CEO of the Jewish Funders Network, wrote about the question with skepticism in an article published more than two years ago. He argued against “uncritically importing the values and assumptions” of effective altruists, whose emphasis on the “cold light of reason” struck him as detached from human nature.
In a recent interview, Spokoiny echoed similar concerns, noting that applying pure rationality to all charitable giving would mean the end of cherished programs such as PJ Library, which supplies children’s books for free to Jewish families, that may not directly save lives but do contribute to a community’s culture and sense of identity.
He also worries that too strong a focus on evidence of impact would steer money away from new ideas.
“Risky, creative ideas don’t tend to emerge from rational needs assessments,” he said. “It requires a transformative vision that goes beyond that.”
But Spokoiny also sounded more open to E.A. and said that as long as it does not try to replace traditional modes of philanthropy, it could be a useful tool of analysis for donors.
“If donors want to apply some of E.A. principles to their work, I’d say that is a good idea,” he said. “I am still waiting to see if this will be a fad or buzzword or something that will be incorporated into the practice of philanthropy.”
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The Israeli plant with a heavenly sweet fragrance
יאָרן לאַנג האָב איך דאָ אין ישׂראל געהערט רעדן וועגן די וווּנדער פֿון בעז. די וואָס זײַנען געקומען אַהער פֿון מזרח-אייראָפּע האָבן דערציילט וועגן אַ לעגענדאַרן לילאַ-בוים, וואָס גיט אַ ריח גן-עדן אינעם וווּנדער-שיינעם מאָנאַט מײַ. לעגענדאַר – ווײַל אין ישׂראל, צום באַוידערן, וואַקסט נישט קיין שום בעז. עס איז געוואָרן אַ מין פֿויגלמילך, אַ סימבאָל פֿונעם פֿאַרלוירענעם עבֿר פֿון יענע לענדער. אָט למשל, האָט דער כּסדר-בענקענדיקער פּאָעט בינעם העלער געשריבן אין אַ ליד אין 1966, ווען ער האָט שוין געוווינט אין תּל-אָבֿיבֿ:
די בײמער בליִען בלאָ בײַ מיר אין גאָרטן.
די בײמער בליִען בלאָ, און איך פֿאַרגעס,
אַז ערגעץ אין דער קינדהײט, ערגעץ דאָרטן,
האָט בלאָ אַזױ געבליט דער בעז.
די בײמער בליִען בלאָ. װי הײסן אָט די בײמער?
װאָס אַרט עס מיך? אַבי זײ בליִען בלאָ.
און אױף דער פֿרילינג־שפּראַך, אױף דער געהײמער,
איז בלאָ – די פֿרײד, װאָס איז נישטאָ.
די בײמער בליִען בלאָ, און איך װיל מער נישט װיסן
די שײַכות צװישן זײ און בלאָען בעז –
כאָטש בײדע בליִען בלאָ אַזױ פֿאַרביסן,
און בײדנס בליִונג איז אַ נס
פֿונעם בוך „דור און דויער“.
כאָטש דער בעז אַליין וואַקסט טאַקע נישט דאָ, איז זײַן נאָמען גאָר באַקאַנט, און אויף עבֿרית פֿאַרמאָגט ער גאָר אַ שיינעם נאָמען: לילך. זײַט מיר מוחל, אָבער איך מיין אַפֿילו אַז “לילך” (וואָס קומט פֿון לילאַ) איז נאָך שענער ווי „בעז“, און עס פֿאַרמאָגט אין זיך צוויי ווערטער: “לי” און “לך” („פֿאַר מיר“ און „פֿאַר דיר“). לכּבֿוד דעם לילך האָט מען געשריבן לידער אויך אויף עבֿרית. אָט למשל דאָס ליבע-ליד „פּרח הלילך“ (די בלום פֿונעם בעז): אורי אסף האָט עס געשריבן, און נורית הירש האָט צוגעפּאַסט איינע פֿון די שענסטע מעלאָדיעס. (אַגבֿ, נורית הירש האָט קאָמפּאָנירט הונדערטער העברעיִשע לידער, און אויך עטלעכע אויף ייִדיש, אַזוי ווי איציק מאַנגערס „מיט פֿאַרמאַכטע אויגן“. אויב ס’איז נישט גענוג, האָט חוה אלבערשטיין געזונגען דאָס ליד, און דאָ זעץ איך איבער דעם רעפֿרען:
מען ליבט זיך שטיל און נישט גראַנדיעז,
מיר ריידן נישט אַזוי ווי מענטשן
וואָס וועלן סײַ ווי סײַ גאָר נישט פֿאַרשטיין
ווי שיין און פֿײַן עס בליט נאָך אַלץ די בעז.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GEBMh5Kmyvw&list=RDGEBMh5Kmyvw&start_radio=1
אָבער כאָטש דער בעז וואַקסט נישט אין ישׂראל בליִען דאָ יעדן פֿרילינג, סוף אַפּריל־אָנהייב מײַ, די שיינע קליינע לילאַ-בלויע בלומען פֿון אזדרכת (איזדאַרעכעט), אויף ייִדיש — מעליע. אמת, איר נאָמען קלינגט נישט אַזוי שיין ווי „לילך“ ; עס זײַנען דאָ אַ סך פֿרויען און מיידעלעך וואָס הייסן „לילך“ און קיינער הייסט נישט אזדרכת. פֿון דעסט וועגן, דערמאָנט איר ריח דעם ריח פֿונעם בעז, און עס טראָגט זיך אין דער לופֿטן ווי אַ זיסן פּאַרפֿום. עס איז גאָר מעגלעך אַז אָט דעם בוים וואָס בינעם העלער האָט באַשריבן איז די אזדרכת, וואָס וואַקט אויך אַנטקעגן מײַן פֿענצטער.
ווי דער בעז געהערט צו די צפֿונדיקע לענדער, אַזוי איז אזדרכת אַ טראָפּישער-סובטראָפּישער בוים. איר וויסנשאַפֿטלעכער נאָמען איז Melia azedarach. „מעליאַ“ באַטײַטהאָניק, אָט דער ריח פֿון אירע בלומען, און azedarach איז אַ פּערסיש-אַראַבישער טערמין. אין צאַנינס ווערטערבוך הייסט עס דווקא אויף ייִדיש: „כינעזישע לילאַ“. סײַ ווי סײַ, האָבן די ביימער עולה געווען אין ארץ-ישׂראל שוין אינעם 16טן יאָרהונדערט, און געהערן צו די „ותיקים“, ד”ה זיי זײַנען מיט דער צײַט געוואָרן אַ טייל פֿונעם ארץ-ישׂראלדיקן פּייזאַזש.
די אזדרכת קאָן מען נישט איגנאָרירן, בפֿרט איצט, ווען ס׳איז באַדעקט מיט בלומען. דערנאָך וואַקסן די אזדרכת-פֿרוכטן: קליינע רונדיקע געלבע פּירות, וואָס זײַנען גיפֿטיק צום עסן אָבער די קינדער האָבן סײַ־ווי ליב זיי צו וואַרפֿן ווי קליינע באַלן. סוף זומער שטייט די אזדרכת אין שלכת, עס הייבן אָן צו פֿאַלן די בלעטער. אַ פּאָר חדשים ווינטערצײַט שטייט די אזדרכת גאָר נאַקעט, און דאַן, פּלוצעם, צעבליִען זיך די בלעטער און די בלומען.
אָבער אַפֿילו אין די ווינטער־חדשים בלײַבט נישט די אזדרכת אַליין: זי ציט צו זיך כּלערליי פֿייגל, וואָס עסן אירע פֿרוכטן. איינע פֿון די פֿייגל איז די דוכיפת (Hoopoe), וואָס צוליב איר פּרעכטיקער קרוין האָט זי אַ ייִדישן ייחוס: ווען דער פּאָעט חיים־נחמן ביאַליק האָט איבערגעזעצט זײַנע לידער אויף עבֿרית האָט ער די פֿראַזע „גאָלדענע פּאַווע“ איבערגעזעצט ווי „דוכיפת הזהב“, כאָטש דאָס וואָרט פֿאַר פּאַווע איז „טווס“. ווי די אזדרכת, איז די דוכיפת אייגנטלעך נישט קיין סאַברע, אָבער אויך זי איז שוין אַ ותיקה און ווערט אַפֿילו באַצייכנט ווי דער נאַציאָנאַלער פֿויגל.
די אזדרכת ציט אויך צו צוויי אַנדערע פֿייגל, וואָס געהערן צו די „אַרײַנדרינגענדיקע מינים“. די ערשטע איז די דררה, אַ מין גרינער פּאַפּוגײַ, וואָס פֿרעסט די פֿרוכטן פֿון אזדרכת מיט גרויס חשק און רעש – זי פּלאַפּלט אָן אַן אויפֿהער און מאַכט אַ גראַטשקע. כאָטש די דררה איז אַ שעדיקער, איז זי גאָר שיין און אַ ביסל קאָמיש דערצו — קאָקעטיש און „פֿאַרפּוצט“. דער צווייטער פֿויגל איז די מײַנע , אַ קליינער שוואַרצער פֿויגל מיט אַ געלבן שנאָבל, וואָס איז זייער קלוג, און קאָן נאָכמאַכן פֿאַרשיידענע שטימען פֿון פֿייגעלעך. די צרה איז אַז די מײַנע האָט נישט ליב קיין קאָנקורענץ, טרײַבט זי אַוועק די אַנדערע פֿייגל, און בפֿרט די אָרטיקע, וואס האָבן נעבעך ווייניק שׂכל און כּוח.
אַלע ישׂראלים זײַנען אויפֿגעבראַכט וועגן די מײַנעס, אָבער בײַ מיר דערוועקט זייער נאָמען אַ שמייכל, ווײַל עס דערמאָנט מיר אָן דעם וויץ מיט אַ פּוילישן ייִד וואָס זיצט אין אַ ווינער קאַפֿע. דער ייִד בעט דעם קעלנער אים געבן דאָס זעלבע וואָס זײַן שכן טרינקט, און דער קעלנער ענטפֿערט: “דאַס איזט זאַהנע!” (Sahne, דאָס דײַטשע וואָרט אויף שמאַנט). זאָגט דער ייִד (מיט זײַן פּוילישן אויסרייד): “דוס איז זאַאַנע, אָבער ווי איז מאַאַנע?”
ווי געזאָגט, אין די לאַנגע זומער חודשים ווערט די אזדרכת, צוליב אירע געלבע פֿרוכטן, אַ באַליבטע סבֿיבֿה פֿון די פֿאַרשיידענע פֿייגל. אַמאָל פּראָבירן זיי לעבן בשלום איינער מיטן אַנדערן, ווײַל עס זײַנען דאָך פֿאַראַן געונג פּירות פֿאַר אַלעמען. אָבער פֿון צײַט צו צײַט ווערט אַזאַ געשריי בײַם בוים, אַז עס גלוסט זיך פּשוט צו פֿאַרמאַכן דאָס פֿענצטער — כאָטש ס׳איז אַ שאָד צו פֿאַרפֿעלן דעם ריח גן־עדן!
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I’m an Orthodox student in NYC. I’m grateful Mamdani vetoed the school buffer bill
My classmates at Manhattan’s Hunter College regularly gather to protest in a plaza at the southwest corner of East 68th Street and Lexington Avenue. This winter, that intersection hosted many protests against Immigration and Customs Enforcement — protests that felt more urgent because, for many Hunter students and their family members, detainment and deportation are very real threats.
Seeing how committed my classmates were to fighting back against injustice made me proud to be a New Yorker, and a student at Hunter.
Detractors often portray college protesters as liberal elites, comfortably removed from real-world issues. That’s not the case at Hunter. That’s part of why, as an Orthodox Jew deeply involved with Jewish life on campus, I’m glad that Mayor Zohran Mamdani vetoed a bill that would have established security perimeters disallowing protests near educational facilities.
On campus, there has been much discussion around City Council Intro 175-B, which the council passed by a 30-19 vote in March. Students suspect that these policies are in place not to protect us but rather to shield the Israeli government from criticism. Internal discussion among Jewish students has been varied. Some students say the bill is necessary to protect us, while others agree with the progressive views of a majority of Hunter’s politically active students, and want their voices to be heard.
Either way, Jewish students are not a monolith, and I am distrustful of politicians and bills which claim to speak for all Jews as a bloc.
I proudly wear a kippah and tzitzis to campus every single day. Friends jokingly call my accent a “generic northeastern yeshivish,” interspersed with Aramaic and Hebrew terms. Before you know my name, you know I’m a Jew. And I feel complete confidence in saying that Hunter is a good place to be Jewish.
My non-Jewish friends and professors have respected my identity and perspective. That isn’t to say that protests related to Israel and the Gaza war haven’t been contentious or charged: they have been. But when I pass my friends who wear kaffiyeh in protest of the destruction in Gaza, they still dap me up.
That image — of a kippah-wearing Jew and a kaffiyeh-clad Arab student greeting in the hallway — encapsulates my experience at Hunter.
Yes, some protesters have crossed lines. At a protest during my freshman year, a protester displayed a banner with an AK-47 and red block letters saying: “BRING THE WAR HOME.” I thought the goal was ending wars abroad, not bringing them home. I was appalled, as were many other students across the political spectrum.
But I believe it’s the responsibility of New York City’s colleges and universities, relying on the input of their students, to address these issues. They can make informed decisions about which applications to approve or deny, take their own safety measures, and, as a last resort, oversee necessary disciplinary action.
Hunter is capable of promoting free expression and dialogue, along with security measures to protect students when necessary. There’s nothing to gain from imposing heavy-handed restrictions on my university and my classmates that would suppress their speech. And there’s much to lose.
Hunter is a bastion of free thought, somewhere my classmates and I can immerse ourselves in different perspectives, and learn through dialogue and debate. It’s somewhere you can espouse unpopular opinions, as long as you have the ability to defend your argument.
Notably, 175-B — which still may be passed, as the council has launched an effort to overturn Mamdani’s veto — contains a carveout for labor protests, allowing these protests to move inside security barriers. I agree that these protests should continue unencumbered by barriers or buffer zones on our campuses. But I don’t see why they should be the only ones. Encountering ideas that differ from your own should be thought-provoking, even thrilling. It should be what college is all about.
So when people back home on Long Island ask me how I’m dealing with antisemitism at Hunter, my answer is another question: “Do you mean anti-Zionism or antisemitism?”
Many Hunter students are staunch or outspoken anti-Zionists, opposing Israel’s right to exist. That perspective is challenging for students with a deep attachment to the Jewish state. It took several difficult conversations with honest and principled anti-Zionists before I began to understand that their logic and perspective is as informed as any other.
In my experience, anti-Zionism and antisemitism are not the same. My peers are entitled to their First Amendment rights, and when they exercise them, everyone benefits in the long run. Engaging outlooks that make us uncomfortable is the best way to learn and grow. I’d rather speak with my classmates face to face than confine their ideas to the perimeter of a buffer zone.
Antisemitism is an extremely dangerous issue in New York City, and Jews in America are rightfully on high alert. But a policy platform of censoring free speech will not disincentivize rogue incidents of hate violence. Those are the most imminent physical threat to American Jews, and I have done my best to make sure Hunter’s social justice community understands that. This line of open communication is what keeps Jews safe at Hunter, and 175-B threatened to sever it.
The NYPD told the City Council in February that its existing authority is enough to handle protests. 175-B went beyond that authority, erecting barriers with the stated goal of protecting Jewish students like me. But as a Jewish student, I believe they would have violated the First Amendment rights of all students — Jewish and non-Jewish alike. The bill, rather than creating new security for students like me, seemed poised to isolate the Jewish community: no one wants to debate someone whom they see, fairly or not, as participating in the restriction of their rights.
And truthfully, I have experienced far more antisemitism on the streets and subways of New York than I ever have on Hunter’s campus. It is no small thing that I am safe at Hunter, and I would speak out if I was not.
With this veto, the mayor recognized that our community and our city did not need this crackdown on expression. We need the opposite. The United States, and New York in particular, have been a haven for Jewish life and culture for more than a century. Our community will never achieve safety and security by allying ourselves with those who treat civil and constitutional rights as dispensable.
I don’t always agree with everything protesters have to say, but it isn’t my place, or the City Council’s, to legislate where and how they say them.
I don’t want to see roadblocks or barriers on 68th and Lexington. I want to see Hunter students exercising their right — and fulfilling their duty — to speak out against injustice and tyranny. I salute Mamdani’s decision to veto City Council Intro 175-B. It would have cost more in freedom than it could ever provide in safety.
The post I’m an Orthodox student in NYC. I’m grateful Mamdani vetoed the school buffer bill appeared first on The Forward.
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Israeli President Isaac Herzog’s selection as JTS commencement speaker roils graduating class
The selection of Israeli President Isaac Herzog as the Jewish Theological Seminary’s commencement speaker has divided undergraduates at the school, with several seniors and dozens of other current students and alumni signing a letter calling on the school’s chancellor to disinvite Herzog.
The letter accused Herzog of inciting violence against civilians in Gaza — a characterization shared by some human rights groups — and criticized him for not taking action against settler violence in the West Bank.
The students added that Herzog’s involvement in the schoolwide May 19 ceremony — when he will also receive an honorary degree from the seminary — would leave them “morally conflicted about attending.”
“There are many places for members of the JTS community to engage with difficult ideas in nuanced conversation,” they wrote, “but we believe the commencement stage is not the place to engage with such a particularly divisive figure.”
The letter leaked to Chancellor Shuly Rubin Schwartz before it was finalized, according to two of the six seniors who signed it, leading to a meeting during which Rubin Schwartz took issue with the group’s approach and held firm on the decision.
Meanwhile, other JTS seniors affirming the speaker choice wrote a letter of their own that has gathered 24 signatures, representing roughly half of the senior class.
The controversy unfolded amid ongoing tensions around Israel in Conservative Jewish spaces and at Columbia University, which has a joint undergraduate program with JTS. The flagship academic institution of the Conservative movement, JTS includes in its mission deepening students’ connection to Israel, and requires its rabbinical students to spend a year learning there.
Speaking out
Herzog has faced criticism for comments he made after the Oct. 7 attacks, in which he said that it was “an entire nation” that was responsible. Some said the remark carried an implication that there were no innocent civilians in Gaza. (Herzog later said it had been taken out of context and that he did believe there were innocent Palestinians there.)
The Forward has reached out to Herzog’s office for comment.
In an interview, one of the students who signed the letter, granted anonymity out of concern for professional repercussions, said he had wanted to fight back against a culture of silence around Palestinian suffering in the Jewish world.
“I do feel powerless,” the student said. “I feel like there’s a genocide happening. And the silence is killing all of us.”
Four current JTS rabbinical students signed the letter opposing Herzog, though none was in the class of 2026. JTS rabbinical students walk at the commencement ceremony but are ordained in a smaller gathering the next day.
Rubin Schwartz said in a statement that most of the JTS community was excited about Herzog’s address and honorary degree, but that it welcomed “thoughtful discussion and differing opinions” from students, faculty and staff.
“President Herzog, like all 10 previous presidents of Israel, represents the state and its people, rather than its government,” Rubin Schwartz added. “We look forward to honoring him at this year’s ceremony.”
Gabriel Freedman-Naditch, who signed the second letter, said he had been happy to learn Herzog would be the commencement speaker. He applauded Herzog’s leadership during Israel’s judicial overhaul saga, but said the Israeli presidency was mostly a “figurehead” position anyway. And while he said he was not closely attuned to Herzog’s actions since Oct. 7, he was willing to countenance a speaker he did not perfectly align with.
“We’ve all learned to listen to people we disagree with,” Freedman-Naditch said. “We should be able to listen to people who we find upsetting.”
A messy rollout
The group of six seniors who wrote the anti-Herzog letter drafted and circulated it privately among select students and alumni, planning to share it with Rubin Schwartz in a private meeting only once it was finalized.
Then Freedman-Naditch, who had not been aware of the letter, was forwarded the letter by his mother, who had received it from a JTS graduate who had signed it. Freedman-Naditch then shared it with the senior class group chat, asking why they hadn’t all been made aware of it. The organizers replied that they were worried that the letter would be leaked along with their names.
Not long after, Rubin Schwartz requested permission through Google Documents to view the letter. The group then emailed the chancellor proposing a meeting to discuss it.
In her office Tuesday, Rubin Schwartz asked the group why they hadn’t first come to her directly, according to the two students who spoke with the Forward. They replied that the JTS administration doesn’t take seriously what undergraduate students have to say, and that voices that diverge from the pro-Israel consensus tend to be silenced.
“She was basically like, ‘It saddens me to hear you say that there isn’t a culture of dissent here,’” one of the students said. “But at the same time, she’s calling our letter of dissent a hostile act.”
“What I said was that their choice to send a letter, rather than speak directly with me or others, felt aggressive,” Rubin Schwartz said in an email. “My point was that it would have felt more respectful to have had a conversation about their feelings instead of initiating the letter campaign.”
Herzog is not the only figure from the realm of Israeli politics slated to address 2026 graduates. Yeshiva University announced Thursday its own commencement speaker: U.S. Ambassador to Israel Mike Huckabee.
The post Israeli President Isaac Herzog’s selection as JTS commencement speaker roils graduating class appeared first on The Forward.