Today, we are witnessing an unprecedented crisis of confidence in the political regimes under which the majority of Jews have lived since WWII. The October 7 attacks and subsequent events prompted a loss of faith in the nation-state and the liberal state – the political frameworks which promised a new era of Jewish vitality after the nadir of the Holocaust. It is no longer tenable to believe that Jewish history reached its inevitable culmination with the establishment of a Jewish state and the integration of Jews in liberal states. In Israel, the colossal failure of the signature institutions of sovereign power (e.g., army, intelligence services, elected representatives, international diplomacy) exposed the nation-state’s promises as exaggerated, if not hollow. As the widespread designation of the October 7 attack as a “pogrom” reveals, Jewish Israelis felt a profound sense of dislocation, as if thrust back into the ghetto. The abrupt and violent resumption of Jewish history refuted the nostrum that only in a nation-state of their own are Jews truly safe and free. In the United States, the fierce controversies surrounding campus protests exposed the persistence of antisemitism in liberal states. More accurately, the controversies amplified doubts about the liberal state’s ability to grant Jews a sense of complete, unselfconscious belonging. Even Jews who resist the conflation of anti-Zionism and antisemitism – and the cynical manipulation of antisemitism for partisan gain – are liable to feel uneasy about the ideological demands to which Jews are increasingly subject. Moreover, these internal Jewish debates play out against the backdrop of a broader democratic emergency. In many countries (including Israel and the United States), the foundational institutions of democratic society are under concerted attack and have proved alarmingly vulnerable to authoritarian capture.
Since October 7, we have been forced to acknowledge that the nation-state is not insulated from the dynamics of Jewish history nor is the liberal state uniquely hospitable to Jews – and neither regime is immune to democratic backsliding. We find ourselves at a moment of historical rupture. The ideological configurations which shaped Jewish politics in the post-WWII era have imploded. With the collapse of naïve faith in Israeli and American exceptionalism, long-held assumptions about the regimes which are best for Jews have begun to crumble. The hegemonic regimes of the post-WWII period – the liberal state and the nation-state – have lost their default status. Could this moment of peril and opportunity inspire a burst of political creativity, revitalizing theoretical debate about the merits of competing state structures and the safeguards of inclusive, egalitarian regimes?
In certain respects, the current crisis of confidence recalls earlier periods in Jewish political history. In the interwar period, Jewish politics were characterized by intense ideological ferment. Jewish nationalists of various stripes jousted with liberal universalists. Within the nationalist camp, Zionists and diaspora nationalists battled over the geographical location, political framework, and economic practices of the proposed national project. In the wake of the Holocaust, however, the bounds of Jewish political discourse narrowed considerably. The destruction of European Jewry led many to conclude that Jews would only be safe and free in a state of their own (or, in a pinch, in a liberal state). A familiar commonplace declared that competing visions for Jewish politics – such as the diaspora nationalism of Simon Dubnow – had been decisively “refuted by history.” The reigning ideological configurations of the post-WWII period offered Jews a binary choice between liberalism and state-centered Zionism.
Now that this choice no longer seems obvious or exhaustive, might a similarly intense ideological ferment resurface within contemporary Jewish debate? Competing visions for Jewish politics may pose increasingly potent challenges to the nation-state and the liberal state, which have lost their veneer of obviousness. Predictions are always rash – and recent history provides scant grounds for optimism. Nevertheless, this disorienting confluence of events could pry open space for a radical rethinking of Jewish politics. Recent developments in the United States and Israel make broadening debate beyond the liberalism/Zionism binary a political imperative. Addressing parallel developments in Israel and the diaspora is crucial, since the shock to Jewish self-understanding – which was not limited to Israeli Jews – has implications for how Jews worldwide perceive their political options.
In the wake of October 7, reviving debate about foundational political questions is newly possible and newly urgent. The challenges of our time demand that we expand our sense of what counts as a “Jewish issue,” as well as the range of possible answers to these proliferating “Jewish questions.” It behooves Jews to recognize that debates about democratic norms and institutional design have become inescapable – and that these are “Jewish” issues. The critical analysis of state structures is now possible, because regimes that once seemed impregnable suddenly appear shaky. It is urgent, because the rapid erosion of democratic norms demands a rethinking of constitutional fundamentals.
At the time of this writing, a fragile cease-fire has taken hold and negotiations are underway to impose a transitional regime of sorts in Gaza. Given the players involved, it is unlikely that this regime will promote democratic accountability or enhance prospects for Palestinian self-determination. It is scandalous – but unfortunately not surprising – that restoring democratic agency is not part of the post-war conversation. The countries who bear the lion’s share of responsibility for this ruinous war – the United States and Israel – are deep in the throes of democratic decline. In both countries, leaders bent on expanding executive power have seized upon the Gaza war and related controversies to accelerate plans to quash independent oversight. In recent months, Netanyahu and Trump have invoked the protection of Jews (e.g., against Islamic terror, against antisemitism) to justify their assertive campaigns against a variety of gatekeeping institutions. For this reason, debates about executive power and independent oversight have become “Jewish” questions.
To take one example (which neatly encapsulates the distinctively Jewish dimensions of the current democratic emergency): The Trump administration’s deportation policy – which is animated by nativist animus against foreigners – also reflects ambitions toward expansive executive power unchecked by judicial oversight. Arguably, this aggressive deportation campaign would have been difficult to pursue prior to October 7. In some of the most high-profile cases, the administration has invoked the supposed foreign policy interest of fighting global antisemitism as justification for the deportation of non-citizens. In Trump’s second term, the antisemitism controversies that have raged since October 7 provide a convenient pretext for the erosion of due process, the expansion of executive privilege, and the subordination of private entities (e.g., universities) to the administration’s dictates.
How might this jolt to Jewish historical consciousness inform a political response to Trump’s bid for unchecked executive power? As these examples illustrate, the current crisis confronts American Jews with thorny questions about the relationship between the executive and the judiciary in a constitutional democracy. Indeed, the balance of powers in a constitutional democracy is arguably a more pressing concern for American Jews than many of the issues that currently consume public debate. In retrospect, Jewish leftists should have devoted some of the time spent debating the finer points of settler colonial theory to developing a Jewish analysis of liberalism’s limitations. Too often, Jewish public debate proceeds as if liberal rubrics still apply and the pressing questions are still familiar liberal questions (e.g. freedom of speech). Yet the crises which have linked “antisemitism” to issues ranging from judicial autonomy and separation of powers to international relations and immigration policy suggest that we are on the cusp of a post-liberal era. An America in which private institutions bow to the administration’s ideological whims will no longer be a liberal state. At this juncture, we are pressed to reopen foundational political questions, questions which may lead us beyond liberalism. To combat the denial of rights to non-citizens, it is not enough to debate the precise definition of “antisemitism” and its intersection (or lack thereof) with anti-Zionism. It is also incumbent upon Jews to analyze the separation of powers and either defend the constitutional understandings currently under attack or – in light of their manifest fragility – propose more robust, egalitarian alternatives. The demise of liberal commonplaces pushes American Jews to display the kind of institutional inventiveness which characterized Jewish political thought in earlier periods. A renewed analysis of state forms could provide a powerful Jewish response to the self-immolation of American democracy.
Prior to October 7, the Israeli left (such as it is) had begun to develop a critical language geared toward strengthening checks and balances in a regime in which they are notoriously weak. In January 2023, the Netanyahu government introduced a judicial reform proposal designed to curtail judicial independence. Opposition to the judicial reform – or, in the lingo of its critics, the “regime coup” – sparked what was, at the time, one of the largest popular protest movements in the world. Granted, the protest movement had severe limitations – foremost among them, naïve allegiance to a brand of liberalism lacking deep roots in Israeli history and political culture. More important, few of the Jewish Israelis marching in the streets chanting “democracy” were willing to confront the occupation, acknowledge blatantly undemocratic features of the status quo, and build broad-based support among Palestinian citizens. For many months, however, the movement brought massive crowds into the streets to debate state structures – what democracy means, the place of the judiciary in a democratic regime, and the merits and liabilities of constitutionalism. Protesters evinced a palpable hunger for innovative thinking about regime design. Early in the protest movement, for example, activists toyed with the idea of convening a constitutional convention. Strikingly, some of these proposals unwittingly echoed concepts, such as “autonomy,” with a diasporic Jewish pedigree. In a tacit challenge to the notion that the establishment of a Jewish nation-state signaled the end of Jewish history, activists imagined Israel’s devolution into secular Jewish, Haredi, and Palestinian “autonomies” (a regime which recalls diasporic precedents). At the protests’ peak, it was not unreasonable to hope that, with more critical awareness regarding paradoxes of the nation-state, the movement might have developed a more radical democratic vision.
The disastrous and brutal Gaza war dashed these hopes. The war divided and decimated the protest movement against the judicial reform. The popular mobilization for the hostages which arose in its wake was a moving testament to the very ideals – accountability, mutuality, social trust – which were shattered on October 7. Yet the movement struggled to translate popular outrage into effective political power. Defying early predictions of his political demise, Netanyahu managed to prolong the war for two years. Netanyahu’s ability to wage war with impunity – despite international condemnation and in contravention of Israeli popular opinion – only underscores the importance of resuming the suspended debate about state structures.
Under cover of war, Netanyahu revived elements of the judicial reform – and, à la Trump, the campaign to curtail independent oversight has expanded to encompass additional loci of power (e.g., the security establishment, the Attorney General). Moreover, Netanyahu’s determination to prosecute the war in the face of widespread skepticism regarding its military and diplomatic justification reflects a severe democratic deficit. During the war, polling consistently showed that a majority of Israelis supported a deal to return the hostages “at any price” (including an end to the war). The inability to translate popular will into effective resistance reflects craven abdication by Israeli opposition parties – but it also exposes the unrepresentative nature of existing political institutions. Critics of the war developed a language of moral witness to oppose the starvation and slaughter of civilians, blatant disregard for the laws of war, and the attendant degradation of Israeli public discourse. To salvage what remains of Israeli democracy, however, prophetic rebuke must be coupled with a political idiom capable of drafting frameworks to secure self-determination for all of the region’s inhabitants.
Today, when the foundational assumptions of post-WWII Jewish politics are crumbling, a cascading series of crises has returned foundational political controversies to the forefront of public debate. Optimism is scarcely warranted in these oppressively dark times. Yet it may not be unreasonable to hope that historical dislocations will pry open space for radical political creativity. From our current vantage point, the declaration that the nation-state and the liberal state “solved” the Jewish question appears premature. It is no longer inconceivable that non-liberal (or patently illiberal) idioms will reshape political discourse in the United States and other Western democracies. Nor it is inconceivable that Israelis and Palestinians committed to ending the conflict will eventually adopt an old-new political template (e.g., autonomy, federation) for governing the region. The nation-state may turn out to have been a fleeting episode within Jewish history. In this sense, October 7 may inaugurate a new period – a period marked by resurgent debate about the kinds of states which are good for the Jews (and other minorities). In the long term, the current crisis of confidence may yield new theoretical constellations, constellations which refuse the binary choice between liberalism and the nation-state. Granted, many of the ideologies populating these new constellations will be markedly illiberal, verging on fascist. Yet some of these discourses will be egalitarian, even emancipatory. The belief in emancipatory alternatives may be wishful thinking, alas. But I continue to hope that the collapse of liberal pieties will enable Jews to envision new forms of collectivity – and declining faith in the nation-state will uncouple the aspiration to self-determination from its current instantiation in unequal, exclusionary regimes.
