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How Jewish comedy found religion, from Philip Roth to ‘Broad City’
(JTA) — In the 2020 comedy “Shiva Baby,” a 20-something young woman shows up at a house of Jewish mourners and gently offers her condolences. When she finds her mother in the kitchen, they chat about the funeral and the rugelach before the daughter asks, “Mom, who died?”
While “Shiva Baby” explores themes of sexuality and gender, the comedy almost never comes at the expense of Jewish tradition, which is treated seriously by its millennial writer and director Emma Seligman (born in 1995) even as the shiva-goers collide. It’s far cry from the acerbic way an author raised during the Depression like Philip Roth lampooned a Jewish wedding or a baby boomer like Jerry Seinfeld mocked a bris.
These generational differences are explored in Jenny Caplan’s new book, “Funny, You Don’t Look Funny: Judaism and Humor from the Silent Generation to Millennials.” A religion scholar, Caplan writes about the way North American Jewish comedy has evolved since World War II, with a focus on how humorists treat Judaism as a religion. Her subjects range from writers and filmmakers who came of age shortly after the war (who viewed Judaism as “a joke at best and an actual danger at worst”) to Generation X and millennials, whose Jewish comedy often recognizes “the power of community, the value of family tradition, and the way that religion can serve as a port in an emotional storm.”
“I see great value in zeroing in on the ways in which Jewish humorists have engaged Jewish practices and their own Jewishness,” Caplan writes. “It tells us something (or perhaps it tells us many somethings) about the relationship between Jews and humor that goes deeper than the mere coincidence that a certain humorist was born into a certain family.”
Caplan is the chair in Judaic Studies at the University of Cincinnati. She has a master’s of theological studies degree from Harvard Divinity School and earned a Ph.D. in religion from Syracuse University.
In a conversation last week, we spoke about the Jewishness of Jerry Seinfeld, efforts by young women comics to reclaim the “Jewish American Princess” label, and why she no longer shows Woody Allen movies in her classrooms.
Our conversation was edited for length and clarity
[Note: For the purpose of her book and our conversation, this is how Caplan isolates the generations: the Silent Generation (b. 1925-45), the baby boom (1946-65), Generation X (1966-79) and millennials (1980–95).]
Jewish Telegraphic Agency: Let me ask how you got into this topic.
Jenny Caplan: I grew up in a family where I was just sort of surrounded by this kind of material. My dad is a comedic actor and director who went to [Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey’s] Clown College. My degrees were more broadly in American religion, not Jewish studies, but I was really interested in the combination of American religion and popular culture. When I got to Syracuse and it came time to start thinking about my larger project and what I wanted to do, I proposed a dissertation on Jewish humor.
The key to your book is how Jewish humor reflects the Jewish identity and compulsions of four sequential generations. Let’s start with the Silent Generation, which is sandwiched between the generation whose men were old enough to fight in World War II and the baby boomers who were born just after the war.
The hallmark of the Silent Generation is that they were old enough to be aware of the war, but they were mostly too young to serve. Every time I told people what I was writing about, they would say Woody Allen or Philip Roth, two people of roughly the same generation.
In “Funny, You Don’t Look Funny: Judaism and Humor from the Silent Generation to Millennials,” Jenny Caplan explores how comics treated religion from the end of World War II to the 21st century. (Courtesy)
The Roth story you focus on is “Eli, the Fanatic” from 1959, about an assimilated Jewish suburb that is embarrassed and sort of freaks out when an Orthodox yeshiva, led by a Holocaust survivor, sets up in town.
Roth spent the first 20 to 30 years of his career dodging the claim of being a self-loathing Jew and bad for the Jews. But the actual social critique of “Eli, the Fanatic” is so sharp. It is about how American Jewish comfort comes at the expense of displaced persons from World War II and at the expense of those for whom Judaism is a real thriving, living religious practice.
That’s an example you offer when you write that the Silent Generation “may have found organized religion to be a dangerous force, but they nevertheless wanted to protect and preserve the Jewish people.” I think that would surprise people in regards to Roth, and maybe to some degree Woody Allen.
Yeah, it surprised me. They really did, I think, share that postwar Jewish sense of insecurity about ongoing Jewish continuity, and that there’s still an existential threat to the ongoing existence of Jews.
I hear that and I think of Woody Allen’s characters, atheists who are often on the lookout for antisemitism. But you don’t focus on Allen as the intellectual nebbish of the movies. You look at his satire of Jewish texts, like his very funny “Hassidic Tales, With a Guide to Their Interpretation by the Noted Scholar” from 1970, which appeared in The New Yorker. It’s a parody of Martin Buber’s “Tales of the Hasidim” and sentimental depictions of the shtetl, perhaps like “Fiddler on the Roof.” A reader might think he’s just mocking the tradition, but you think there’s something else going on.
He’s not mocking the tradition as much as he’s mocking a sort of consumerist approach to the tradition. There was this sort of very superficial attachment to Buber’s “Tales of the Hasidim.” Allen’s satire is not a critique of the traditions of Judaism, it’s a critique of the way that people latch onto things like the Kabbalah and these new English translations of Hasidic stories without any real depth of thought or intellect. Intellectual hypocrisy seems to be a common theme in his movies and in his writing. It’s really a critique of organized religion, and it’s a critique of institutions, and it’s a critique of the power of institutions. But it’s not a critique of the concept of religion.
The idea of making fun of the wise men and their gullible followers reminds me of the folk tales of Chelm, which feature rabbis and other Jewish leaders who use Jewish logic to come to illogical conclusions.
Yes.
You write that the baby boomers are sort of a transition between the Silent Generation and a later generation: They were the teenagers of the counterculture, and warned about the dangers of empty religion, but also came to consider religion and tradition as valuable. But before you get there, you have a 1977 “Saturday Night Live” skit in which a bris is performed in the back seat of a luxury car, and the rabbi who performs it is portrayed as what you call an absolute sellout.
Exactly. You know: Institutional religion is empty and it’s hollow, it’s dangerous and it’s seductive.
Jerry Seinfeld, born in 1954, is seen as an icon of Jewish humor, but to me is an example of someone who never depicts religion as a positive thing. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that.)
“Seinfeld” is more a show about New York than it is necessarily a show about anything Jewish. The New York of Seinfeld is very similar to the New York of Woody Allen, peopled almost entirely by white, middle-class, attractive folks. It’s a sort of Upper West Side myopia.
But there’s the bris episode, aired in 1993, and written by Larry Charles. Unless you are really interested in the medium, you may not know much about Larry Charles, because he stays behind the camera. But he also goes on to do things like direct Bill Maher’s anti-religion documentary “Religulous,” and there’s a real strong case for him as having very negative feelings about organized religion which feels like a holdover from the Silent Generation. And so in that episode you have Kramer as the Larry Charles stand-in, just opining about the barbaric nature of the circumcision and trying to save this poor baby from being mutilated.
The few references to actual Judaism in “Seinfeld” are squirmy. I am thinking of the 1995 episode in which a buffoon of a rabbi blurts out Elaine’s secrets on a TV show. That was written by Larry David, another boomer, whose follow-up series, “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” is similarly known for its irreverence toward Judaism. But you say David can also surprise you with a kind of empathy for religion.
For the most part, he’s classic, old school, anti-organized religion. There’s the Palestinian Chicken episode where the Jews are rabidly protesting the existence of a Palestinian-run chicken restaurant near a Jewish deli, and where his friend Funkhouser won’t play golf on Shabbos until Larry gets permission by bribing the rabbi with the Palestinian chicken. There, rabbis are ridiculous and can be bought and religion is hollow and this is all terrible.
But then there’s this bat mitzvah montage where for one moment in the entire run of this show, Larry seems happy and in a healthy relationship and fulfilled and enjoying life.
That’s where he falls in love with Loretta Black during a bat mitzvah and imagines a happy future with her.
It’s so startling: It is the most human we ever see Larry over the run of the show, and I believe that was the season finale for the 2007 season. It was much more in line with what we’ve been seeing from a lot of younger comedians at that point, which was religion as an anchor in a good way — not to pull you down but to keep you grounded.
So for Generation X, as you write, Judaism serves “real, emotional, or psychological purpose for the practitioners.”
I wouldn’t actually call it respect but religion is an idea that’s not just something to be mocked and relegated to the dustbin. I’m not saying that Generation X is necessarily more religious, but they see real power and value in tradition and in certain kinds of family experiences. So, a huge amount of the humor can still come at the expense of your Jewish mother or your Jewish grandmother, but the family can also be the thing that is keeping you grounded, and frequently through some sort of religious ritual.
Who exemplifies that?
My favorite example is the 2009 Jonathan Tropper novel, “This Is Where I Leave You.” I’m so disappointed that the film adaptation of that sucked a lot of the Jewish identity out of the story, so let’s stick with the novel. In that book, where a family gathers for their father’s shiva, the characters are horrible people in a dysfunctional family writ large. They lie to each other. They backstab each other. But in scene where the protagonist Judd describes standing up on the bimah [in synagogue] to say Kaddish [the Mourner’s Prayer] after the death of his father, and the way he talks about this emotional catharsis that comes from saying the words and hearing the congregation say the words — it’s a startling moment of clarity in a book where these characters are otherwise just truly reprehensible.
Adam Sandler was born in 1966, the first year of Generation X, and his “Chanukah Song” seems like such a touchstone for his generation and the ones that follow. It’s not about religious Judaism, but in listing Jewish celebrities, it’s a statement of ethnic pride that Roth or Woody Allen couldn’t imagine.
It’s the reclamation of Jewish identity as something great and cool and fun and hip and wonderful and absolutely not to be ashamed of.
From left, Ilana Glazer, Abbi Jacobson and Seth Green in an episode of “Broad City” parodying Birthright Israel. (Screenshot from Comedy Central)
Which brings us to “Broad City,” which aired between 2014 and 2019. It’s about two 20-something Jewish women in New York who, in the case of Ilana Glazer’s character, anyway, are almost giddy about being Jewish and embrace it just as they embrace their sexuality: as just liberating. Ilana even upends the Jewish mother cliche by loving her mother to death.
That’s the episode with Ilana at her grandmother’s shiva, which also has the B plot where Ilana and her mother are shopping for underground illegal handbags. They spend most of the episode snarking at each other and fighting with each other and her mother’s a nag and Ilana is a bumbling idiot. But at the moment that the cops show up, and try to nab them for having all of these illegal knockoff handbags, the two of them are a team. They are an absolute unit of destructive force against these hapless police officers.
I think all of your examples of younger comics are women, who have always had fraught relationships with Jewish humor, both as practitioners and as the target of jokes. You write about “The JAP Battle” rap from “Crazy Ex-Girlfriend,” which both leans into the stereotype of the Jewish-American Princess — spoiled, acquisitive, “hard as nails” — and tries to reclaim it without the misogyny.
Rachel Bloom’s character Rebecca in “Girlfriend” self-identifies as a JAP, but she doesn’t actually fit the category. It’s her mother, Naomi, who truly is the Philip Roth, “Marjorie Morningstar,” Herman Wouk model of a JAP. So Bloom is kind of using the term, but you can’t repurpose the term when the original is still there.
So as an alternative, I offer up a new term: the Modern Ashkenazi American Woman. It’s very New York, it’s very East Coast, it’s very particular to a type of upbringing and community that in the 1950s and ’60s would have been almost exclusively Conservative Jews, and then may have become a bit more Reform as we’ve gotten into the ’90s and 2000s. They went to the JCC. They probably went to Jewish summer camp.
But even that doesn’t even really speak to the American sense of what Jewish is anymore, because American Jews have become increasingly racially and culturally diverse.
There is also something that’s happening historically with Generation X, and that’s the distance from the two major Jewish events of the 20th century, which is the Holocaust and the creation of Israel.
The Silent Generation and baby boomers still had a lingering sense of existential dread — the sense that we’re not so far removed from an attempted total annihilation of Jews. Gen X and millennials are so far removed from the Holocaust that they don’t feel that same fear.
But the real battleground we’re seeing in contemporary American Judaism is about the relationship to Israel. For baby boomers and even for some older members of Gen X, there’s still a sense that you can criticize Israel, but at the end of the day, it’s your duty to ultimately support Israel’s right to exist. And I think millennials and Zoomers [Gen Z] are much more comfortable with the idea of Israel being illegitimate.
Have you seen that in comedy?
I certainly think you can see the leading edge of that in some millennial stuff. The “Jews on a Plane” episode of “Broad City” is an absolute excoriation of Birthright Israel, and does not seem particularly interested in softening its punches about the whole idea of Jews going to Israel. I think we can see a trend in that direction, where younger American Jewish comedians do not see that as punching down.
You’re teaching a class on Jewish humor. What do your undergraduates find funny? Now that Woody Allen is better known for having married his adoptive daughter and for the molestation allegations brought by another adoptive daughter, do they look at his classic films and ask, “Why are you teaching us this guy?”
For the first time I’m not including Woody Allen. I had shown “Crimes and Misdemeanors” for years because I think it’s his most theological film. I think it’s a great film. And then a couple years ago, I backed off, because some students were responding that it was hard to look at him with all the baggage. He’s still coming up in conversation because you can’t really talk about the people who came after him without talking about him, but for the first time I’m not having them actually watch or read any of his stuff.
They have found things funny that I didn’t expect them to, and they have not found things funny that I would have thought they would. They laughed their way through “Yidl mitn fidl,” the 1936 Yiddish musical starring Molly Picon. I also thought they’d enjoy the Marx Brothers’ “Duck Soup” and they did not laugh once. Some of that is the fact that Groucho’s delivery is just so fast.
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The post How Jewish comedy found religion, from Philip Roth to ‘Broad City’ appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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Why Did the US Just Lift Sanctions on Iranian Oil?
The Liberian-flagged oil tanker Ice Energy transfers crude oil from the Iranian-flagged oil tanker Lana (former Pegas), off the shore of Karystos, on the Island of Evia, Greece, May 26, 2022. REUTERS/Costas Baltas
According to estimates, on the eve of the current war, some 140 million barrels of Iranian oil were floating at sea. This oil had already been produced and loaded onto tankers, and the vast bulk of it had already passed through the Strait of Hormuz before the war broke out. The Chinese had bought most of this oil, but chose to leave it at sea because their strategic reserves were full of the medium-sour oil that Iran produces, and US sanctions on the Iranian banking system made it difficult to resell the oil to other customers. Iranian oil tankers were thus left waiting for months near China’s shore.
On March 20, 2026, the US announced a temporary 30-day lifting of sanctions on the sale and delivery of Iranian oil. The permit applies only to oil that was already loaded onto tankers by that day, and the oil in question must be unloaded by April 19.
The US is attempting to quickly calm the market by allowing countries to buy these millions of barrels of oil. As a significant portion of this oil had already been sold to China, Washington is effectively allowing Beijing, if it so wishes, to release the cargo to be sold in Japan, India, South Korea, and other Asian countries interested in Iranian medium-sour oil.
Even if the Chinese opt to keep all the oil for themselves, the result will still relieve the market, because similar types of oil — primarily Russian medium-sour — can then flow to other customers in Asia. According to the US Secretary of Energy, these tankers could begin arriving at Asian ports within three to four days.
The type of oil is very important here, because it determines who can benefit from the American sanctions relief on Iran’s oil. Oil grades are defined by two main indicators: density (“light” vs. “heavy”) and sulfur content (“sweet” vs. “sour”). The oil’s grade affects the costs of transportation and refining, as well as the types of distillates that can be produced from it. Light and sweet oil can produce more gasoline, diesel fuel, and jet fuel. Heavy oil is more suitable for bunker oil for ships or bitumen for asphalt. Refineries are usually built to operate most efficiently with a specific grade of crude oil. They can process other oil grades if necessary, but not at the same level of profitability or efficiency.
Iranian oil is mostly medium-sour. Not every refinery can produce the same distillates from it with the same efficiency, and not all countries in Asia have the necessary refining capacity in the first place. Countries like India, Japan, South Korea, and Singapore are well-suited for this oil and have more advanced refining capabilities. In contrast, countries that depend more on imported distillates and less on independent refining, such as the Philippines, Sri Lanka, Vietnam, and Australia, are more vulnerable to prolonged disruptions and would benefit from Iranian oil only indirectly.
This is where China comes into the picture. It has a huge domestic refining capacity and significant reserves, and thus has great influence on gasoline and diesel prices throughout Asia. Even without the American relief on Iranian oil, Beijing could have released some of its strategic reserves or distillates into the market and eased prices for its neighbors — but it has no interest in doing so. As early as the first week of the war, China announced restrictions on distillate exports, leading to a dramatic increase in gasoline and diesel prices in Thailand, the Philippines, and Vietnam. China may be using this as a political lever to increase pressure on the US to end the fighting, or it may at the very least be planning to turn energy into a regional bargaining tool and sell distillates to its neighbors in exchange for political benefits.
The main criticism of the American move is that lifting oil sanctions strengthens the Iranian regime and enriches its coffers during the war. US Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent claims that Washington will monitor sales and make it difficult for Iran to access these revenues, emphasizing the continuation of the “maximum pressure” policy on Iran’s ability to use the international financial system. However, he has not explained how the US will prevent Iran from circumventing the restrictions, as it has done so far. In its trading with China, Iran has often used barter transactions, cash, or payments in yuan rather than dollars to circumvent sanctions. It has also used intermediary companies and countries (mainly Oman and Malaysia) to “launder” the source of its oil, and has relied on offshore bank accounts in Qatar, the United Arab Emirates, Mauritius, and elsewhere with the full knowledge of the countries involved.
It can be argued, however, that Iran’s ability to circumvent US restrictions has been reduced since the beginning of the war, now that Iran itself has bombed some of the countries where it holds offshore accounts. The United Arab Emirates, for example, announced on March 5 that it is considering freezing Iranian accounts in the country. This allows the US to say with greater confidence that it has more control over revenue coming from Iranian oil sales, whether or not this is in fact the case.
In the short term, this seems to be a relatively calculated move by the US. According to the administration’s own statements, its goal is not to provide relief to Iran’s economy but to quickly release oil that has already been produced and is now at sea. The move is designed to relieve pressure on the market for about two weeks. From Washington’s perspective, this is a limited price it is willing to pay to buy time, stabilize the energy market, and preserve greater freedom of action in the war, at least until it can greatly reduce Iran’s ability to close the Strait of Hormuz.
Dr. Elai Rettig is an assistant professor in the Department of Political Studies and a senior research fellow at the Begin-Sadat Center for Strategic Studies at Bar-Ilan University. He specializes in energy geopolitics and national security. A version of this article was originally published by The BESA Center.
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Israel and Canada Both Use American Fighter Jets — But Politics Keeps Them Apart
A US Marines F-35C Lightning II is staged for flight operations on the flight deck of the US Navy Nimitz-class aircraft carrier USS Abraham Lincoln in support of the Operation Epic Fury attack on Iran from an undisclosed location March 3, 2026. Photo: US Navy/Handout via REUTERS
After the attack by the US and Israel on Iran, Canada issued a statement recognizing that Iran is the main source of terror in the Middle East, that it has one of the world’s worst human rights records, and that it can not be allowed to develop nuclear weapons. I was pleased to see that it also recognized Israel’s right to defend itself and provide security to its people.
When it comes to security, Israel and Canada are very different. Israel has had to face the hostility of its neighbors ever since its birth in 1948, whereas Canada has not had to worry for decades. Yet, the two countries are similar in having to rely on US warplanes for their defense.
The seemingly endless arms race between Israel and its enemies has resulted in the development of an increasingly sophisticated Israeli arms industry and a large arms export business.
The title of a recent Economist Magazine article, “Israel may not be popular, but its weapons are,” says it all. Israel’s weapons exports amounted to almost $15 billion in 2024, about 10% of total Israeli exports. But Israel still relies on the US for warplanes.
In 1956, 70 years ago, the situation for Israel was dire. Periodic terrorist incursions from the West Bank, then under Jordanian jurisdiction, and from Egyptian-controlled Gaza, resulted in numerous Israeli casualties. Arms embargoes imposed by the US and Britain in 1948 made it difficult for Israel to defend itself. (The US embargo lasted until 1965, almost two decades after the state’s founding.)
In 1956, the Canadian government, after some debate, approved a request from Israel to buy 24 F86 Sabre jet interceptors, produced under license from the US by Canadair Ltd, Montreal. In justifying the decision, Prime Minister Louis St. Laurent pointed out that Egypt, with airfields only 10 minutes flying time from Tel Aviv, had received 200 MIG-15 jet fighters and 40 to 50 Ilyushin jet bombers from the Soviet Union.
The Canadian Sabre jets never made it to Israel. The outbreak of the Suez Crisis in late 1956, when Israel attacked Egypt in concert with France and Britain, led to the cancellation of the deal. (Lester B. Pearson, then Canada’s Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, and later Prime Minister, helped resolve the crisis through the creation of a UN peacekeeping force. Pearson was awarded the 1957 Nobel Peace Prize for his efforts.)
For the Israelis, it didn’t really matter. The French government had agreed to supply Israel with Mystère jets, and France remained Israel’s main source of jet fighters for the next decade.
In fact, at the time of the Sabre jet discussions with Israel, Canada was developing a state-of-the-art supersonic jet fighter of its own — the Avro Arrow. However, the project was cancelled abruptly in 1959, even though early production models had flown successfully. The cancellation, a disaster for the Canadian aerospace industry, was based on cost. It was cheaper to buy American jets.
Israel went through a very similar experience. During the mid-1980s, Israel developed its own advanced fighter jet, the Lavi (Hebrew for lion). The Lavi was a small, highly maneuverable, supersonic jet with advanced electronic capabilities. In 1987, it too was cancelled, after early models were at the flight testing stage. The reason? Cost. It was cheaper to buy jets from the US.
At the recent World Economic Forum at Davos, Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney spoke of the need for middle powers, such as Canada, to become more autonomous and proactive in world affairs. Coincidentally, Canada is in the midst of having to decide which jet fighter would be best for its future defense needs: the American made F-35, the same plane that is the current mainstay of Israel’s air force, or the Gripen, a fighter jet produced in Sweden.
Sophisticated jet fighters are expensive to design and build, although Sweden, a country with a population and economy about the same size as that of Israel, has managed to do so. (For example, one F-35 fighter jet can cost well over $100 million.) A 2025 article by Udi Etsion in The Jerusalem Post suggests that to lessen the financial burden, Israel should seek a partner for the development of its own stealth fighter jet.
Why not Canada? After all, both Canada and Israel are seeking combat aircraft self-sufficiency. But Canada, once considered by some the best place for Jews, has experienced an exponential increase in antisemitism since October 7, 2023, along with an erosion in support for Israel.
In fact, after initially supporting the strike on Iran, Prime Minister Carney has backtracked and now expresses “regret” for the strike. That Carney recently traveled to China, the UAE, and Qatar to shore up trade relations, but omitted Israel — one of the best performing economies in the world — speaks volumes. When it comes to the Middle East, even a match made in heaven is not a sure thing.
Jacob Sivak, a Fellow of the Royal Society of Canada, is a retired professor, University of Waterloo, Waterloo, Ontario, Canada.
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Lessons From South Africa for Israel
Anti-Israel protesters march through the streets of the township of Lenasia in Johannesburg, South Africa, Oct. 6, 2024. Photo: REUTERS/Ihsaan Haffejee
There was a time when South Africa found itself pushed to the margins of the international community. The reason was clear and widely condemned — its system of Apartheid, which enforced racial separation and denied political rights to the majority of its citizens.
What ultimately changed South Africa’s trajectory was not a single moment but a combination of internal evolution and external demand. The apartheid system became untenable both morally and practically. Leaders began to recognize that reform was unavoidable. The release of Nelson Mandela symbolized a broader shift, but what followed mattered just as much. Negotiations replaced repression, elections replaced exclusion, and a new national vision began to take shape.
South Africa’s reentry into the global community was not granted automatically. It was earned through visible transformation and a commitment to a more inclusive future.
In current debates, parallels are often drawn between that period in South Africa’s history and the situation of Israel. These comparisons are powerful, but they are also frequently misleading. The foundation of South Africa’s isolation was a domestic system explicitly built on racial hierarchy — whereas Israel’s reality is fundamentally different.
Israel emerged in 1948 as a sovereign state following a war of annihilation launched against it by five Arab armies. Today in Israel — as has always been the case — Arab citizens have the exact same legal rights and protections as Jews. Palestinians living under the control of the Palestinian Authority in the West Bank and Hamas in Gaza do not get those rights — just like Mexicans and Canadians don’t get the rights of Americans. But that is not apartheid.
Still, South Africa’s experience offers insights into how international perceptions are formed and how they can change. In both cases, global opinion has proven to be a significant force. Media narratives, activist movements, and diplomatic alignments all contribute to shaping how a country is viewed abroad.
One of the clearest lessons from South Africa is that perception follows action, but it also depends on communication. The country did not simply dismantle apartheid behind closed doors. It made its transformation visible to the world. The new leadership articulated a message of reconciliation and unity that resonated far beyond its borders. That message was reinforced by concrete steps that aligned with widely held international values.
For Israel, the challenge is different but not unrelated. It is not a matter of replicating South Africa’s path, because the underlying circumstances are not the same. Rather, it is about understanding how to navigate an environment in which scrutiny is constant and narratives can quickly harden into assumptions.
Actions that promote stability, economic opportunity, and coexistence can have an impact not only on the ground but also in the court of global opinion — and they need to be amplified, even if the world doesn’t want to cover the story.
Equally important is the need for Israel to tell a fuller story. Israel is often defined internationally by conflict, yet that is only part of its reality. It is also a society marked by democratic institutions, cultural diversity, and technological innovation. Within its borders, there are ongoing debates about policy, identity, and the future. These elements reflect a dynamic and pluralistic country that is not always visible in external coverage.
Leadership plays a decisive role in shaping how these stories are conveyed. South Africa’s transition was guided by figures who understood the importance of tone as well as substance. The emphasis on reconciliation helped shift the global narrative. In Israel’s case, leadership that highlights pragmatism, restraint, and a willingness to engage can influence how the country is perceived, even in a challenging environment.
The broader takeaway is that international standing is not fixed. It evolves over time, influenced by decisions, policies, and the narratives that accompany them. South Africa’s transformation illustrates how a country can move from isolation to acceptance when its actions and its message align with a clear vision of the future.
Israel’s situation remains complex and often contentious. Yet complexity does not preclude progress. By focusing on practical steps that improve lives, by engaging with the international community in a confident and transparent manner, and by ensuring that its story is told in full, Israel can continue to strengthen its position on the world stage.
History does not repeat itself exactly, but it often provides useful guidance. South Africa’s experience is not a blueprint, but it is a reminder that change is possible and that perception can shift when reality and narrative move together.
Sabine Sterk is the CEO of Time To Stand Up For Israel.