The 6.1 million American Jews make up the largest Jewish community in the diaspora. Yet within the American nation they represent only 2.2% of the total population. Their presence on the North American continent dates back to the middle of the seventeenth century, the period when a handful of Jewish families came to settle permanently in New Amsterdam. Since then, the Jewish population of the United States has been built up at the rhythm of the migratory flows arriving from Central and Eastern Europe. The principal cities, and more generally the states located along the country’s Northeast coast, which often served as a first landing point for immigrants, still shelter 46% of the American Jewish population. This phenomenon of concentration, which is in no way surprising given the geographic considerations tied to the massive arrival of Jews from Europe, has nonetheless favored the emergence of an immense pole of Jewish life, with the consequence of an uneven distribution of the Jewish population across American territory. Indeed, outside the Northeast, American Jews are spread among the regions of the South (22%), the West (22%), and the Center (11%) of the country. In a few large cities of the South and the West such as Atlanta, Seattle, and Las Vegas, which for some years now have been passing through a significant phase of economic development, the Jewish communities have registered a noticeable increase.
Let us note that in the United States, geographic mobility is still perceived as a sure value when it comes to social and economic success. Jews, more than half of whom have completed university studies, if only at the undergraduate level, have, like their fellow citizens, accepted this state of affairs. Moreover, it has been observed that Jews have tended to orient their professional activities toward a handful of sectors such as teaching, law, medicine, finance, commerce, or else the arts and entertainment. Activities that, in every case, allow them to live comfortably, since the average income of an American Jewish household today comes close to 65,000 dollars a year.
With the exception of the pockets of poverty that persist for certain segments of the American Jewish population and that mainly affect immigrant circles and the elderly, one is forced to acknowledge that in the United States, Jews have managed to secure for themselves a social and economic status that is, to say the least, enviable.
Nevertheless, material success, which one ought to interpret as an auspicious indicator, does not make it possible to judge the vitality of a Jewish community of the diaspora. What do we mean by vitality? Quite simply, the capacity of a community to maintain an existence consistent with the principles and ideals it draws from its religious, ethnic, or cultural identity, while living within a non-Jewish society. Across the Atlantic, American Jewish identity, in its most diverse aspects, has never ceased to interest the many researchers who have made modern Jewish studies their specialty. Not a year goes by without new works coming to pile up on the already well-stocked shelves of the “judaica” sections of American bookstores and libraries. Many of these works emanate from academics attached to prestigious institutions such as Columbia University or those of New York (NYU and CUNY), which since the 1960s have known how to respond, by means of their Jewish studies departments, to the growing interest in Jewish culture and history. The phenomenon of so-called “ethnic” studies, very much in vogue in the United States, has never truly found an echo in the French university world, which, in the image of French society, refuses to accentuate the particularisms tied to the cultures and beliefs of one group or another. The near-total absence of “ethnic” studies within the French university has, in the past, been the object of an explanation proposed by Professor Pierre Birnbaum. This French idea, according to which it is preferable to mute cultural and religious specificities within the public space, and this in order to preserve a certain social cohesion, finds its source in the debates of the Revolution of 1789. In the course of that episode, which was meant to allow a renegotiation of the rights and duties granted to the religious minorities living on French soil, and notably those of the Jews, it had been decided that in exchange for full civic rights, they would have to learn to show themselves discreet. In other words, the aim was to confine religious practices as well as the distinctive signs tied to them to the private space, namely, in the case of the Jews, the home and the synagogue. Over the course of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the Jews were not the only ones constrained to bend to these demands for discretion. Post-revolutionary anticlericalism, an ideology henceforth integrated into the French political landscape, did not spare the Catholics, even though they were in the majority in France. It is precisely on this point that profound divergences appear between France and the United States of America, where religion has never ceased to hold a preponderant place.
Religion and patriotism in the USA
Religion lies at the foundation of the United States. Religious references appear clearly from the very first paragraph of the Declaration of Independence, then in the Constitution. The founding texts express unequivocally the idea of a nation erected upon ideals of tolerance and freedom in matters of religious belief and practice. In the twenty-first century, that same idea has not left people’s minds. The United States is a young country, its history is relatively recent, and as such it remains imbued with the principles that presided over its creation. The image of the first immigrants, who came to the American continent in order to escape the religious persecutions raging in their countries of origin, still persists. As a result, religion does not fail to be regarded as an untouchable value, an inalienable right and freedom that the American state defends, supports, and encourages. Everyone is free to choose their beliefs and their affiliation, but the theist sentiment continues to inspire respect and sympathy. It is therefore in this context of relative tolerance and freedom of expression that the Jews were able, on the one hand, to envisage their insertion into American society and, on the other, to adapt and redefine the parameters of their ethnic, religious, and cultural identity. For the first time in contemporary history, Jews discover that their Jewishness no longer imposes itself upon them as a heavy burden, or even a handicap. In the United States, they understand that Jewish identity is not incompatible with American citizenship. On the contrary, being Jewish conjures the image of a good American, proud and conscious of their origins. One is Jewish-American just as one is Italian-American or Irish-American. This broad-mindedness has not always been a widespread phenomenon. It is mainly over the course of the twentieth century that it manifested itself more clearly. Nevertheless, by granting a privileged status to religion, American democracy had from the start created a climate favorable to the incorporation of the many minorities that were to compose it. American society, in the image of a human mosaic, leaves individuals the possibility of expressing and living their religious and cultural beliefs as they see fit. In exchange for this freedom, the United States demands of its citizens that they be faithful and loyal to it in all circumstances. In a word, that they be patriots. That they never forget that they are Americans, and moreover responsible Americans. Their principal responsibility being to contribute actively to American society at every level, but first and foremost from an economic point of view, so as never to impose themselves as a burden on the rest of the population. Such are the clauses of the implicit contract that binds ethnic and religious minorities to American democracy, and to which is attributed a distant kinship with the one that France proposed to its Jews in the framework of their emancipation, an emancipation proclaimed at the end of several years of negotiations and stormy debates among all the political forces of the country. In the United States, by contrast, the status of the Jews never imposed itself as a national debate of great scope. It was settled progressively by each state over the course of the seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth centuries.
Philanthropy and Tikkun Olam: the fifth pillar of Jewish life
Nevertheless, the message of the United States to its immigrants of yesterday and today has never ceased to put forward the notion of economic and financial independence. This is regarded as the key to the “American Dream,” but also as a duty toward the host homeland, which conceives of helping but not of assisting. It is therefore conscious of the limits of American generosity, such as they are found in the legal texts relating to immigration, that the first Jews of the United States had organized their communal institutions to take charge of the most destitute. From the seventeenth century onward, the Jews’ objective was to protect and aid the new immigrants who kept pouring in. They had to be helped out of solidarity and compassion, but they also had to be helped in order to avoid drawing the attention of the American authorities and, more generally, of non-Jewish Americans, who might point a finger at the invading hordes of the wretched. It was thus that the American Jewish network of mutual aid and solidarity was born, which has never since ceased to develop and refine itself. The attachment of American Jews to philanthropy is certainly part of the reason. Each year more than 60% of them make a monetary donation to a charitable cause, Jewish or non-Jewish. We know that there exists a link between the philanthropic gesture and certain concepts conveyed by the teachings of Judaism. Notably those of Tikkun Olam (the repair of the world) and Tsedaka (charity). However, in the United States, interest in philanthropy does not remain a Jewish specificity. It is a rather widespread attitude that is explained by the minimal intervention of the state in matters of social aid. This obliges charitable works and associations to take over and to intervene wherever needs are left unanswered. Social aid and the fight against poverty figure at the head of the objectives that the great American Jewish organizations have set themselves. These objectives fit within the framework of a communal policy that, on a national and international scale, aims at the physical, spiritual, and cultural preservation of the Jewish people throughout the world. Since its formation in the year 2000, the United Jewish Communities, the centralizing organ of American Jewish communal life, has wished to gather its action around what it has chosen to call the “pillars” of Jewish life. This novel image of pillars, these indispensable supports for the foundations of modern Jewish life, refers to a few great unifying ideals, which themselves are not new but remain shared by a significant number of American Jews. These ideals divide into five categories: social aid to local communities, education and culture, the religious sphere, the defense and promotion of Jewish interests in the USA and in the world, and assistance to the State of Israel. Thanks to the privileges deriving from their economic and social status, but also for the other reasons evoked above, American Jews feel a duty of assistance toward all their coreligionists in need. At the local and national level, they mobilize massively each year by responding to the fundraising appeals aimed at the fight against poverty. Efforts are especially directed toward the elderly, the sick, and the disabled who, because they live in a country where the question of access to medical care for the most destitute has still not found an answer, are confronted with material situations that are often dramatic. The absorption of the new immigrants, who continue to arrive in large numbers from the former Soviet republics, also mobilizes a portion of the funds allocated to social action. Indeed, thanks to the arrangements put in place by the charitable organizations, the newcomers can, if they wish, take part free of charge in English courses, vocational training programs, or benefit from legal advice.
Beyond the most urgent material needs, Jewish communal circles seem preoccupied by the questions tied to the transmission of their identity. The rising rate of exogamous marriages worries the leaders, who are aware that, unless there is a deliberate and sustained effort to transmit their culture and their religion, the Jews of the United States risk, in the long term, losing their bearings to the point of melting into the rest of the American population. The response formulated in the face of this worrying phenomenon has translated into the financing of educational programs of a Jewish character, beginning with aid to schools of every tendency (day schools of the liberal movements and Orthodox yeshivot). Investment has also been made in the teaching of modern Hebrew. Alongside the educational action, American Jewish communal circles have oriented their efforts toward the religious sphere, namely the synagogues, which present the advantage of being able to gather the faithful on a regular basis. This is also because in the United States it is held that the transmission of Jewish identity passes through a solid knowledge of the Jewish religion. As a result, each religious denomination is extremely well organized, with at its head a centralizing organ that manages and finances the synagogues, the rabbinical seminaries, the summer camps, the educational programs, and the awareness campaigns. However, since the religious facet of Jewish identity does not meet with unanimity among the American Jewish population, the communal leaders have wished to promote Jewish culture in the broadest sense of the term. It is therefore Yiddish courses, plays, choreographies treating a Jewish theme, or concerts of klezmer music (traditional music of festive origin) that have been able to be given thanks to subsidies. The opening in 1999 of the Makor community center in the very heart of Manhattan’s Upper West Side is another example of this growing interest in Jewish culture.
Finally, this portrait of American Jewish communal life would not be complete if one omitted to mention two of the principal ideological causes to which a large part of Jews rally. These are, on the one hand, the defense of Jewish interests in the United States and in the world, a defense that extends to the fight against antisemitism and to the preservation of the memory of the Shoah. On the other hand, it is an active and faithful support for the State of Israel. American Jews know that they live in a country that is politically stable, rich, and where they are generally well accepted. But their past as immigrants fleeing Europe follows them closely. Contrary to present circumstances, they have not always been welcome in the United States. An American antisemitism has manifested itself in the past. Today this idea seems unacceptable to them. In recent decades the communal circles have confronted head-on the antisemitism conveyed by certain groups such as the followers of the Black Muslim leader Louis Farrakhan, the militants of the fascistic far right, and the fundamentalist Christians. More recently the defense organizations such as the American Jewish Committee, the American Jewish Congress, or the Anti-Defamation League have been obliged to face the antisemitic leanings of pro-Palestinian far-left circles. These organizations also count on a policy of rapprochement with the groups and communities hostile to them. For to the defensive approach, American Jews seem to prefer a preventive attitude. It is in this perspective that they have chosen to invest their efforts in the preservation of the memory of the Shoah, so that such a thing can never happen to any people on earth. According to the motto of the Simon Wiesenthal Center: “Hope lives when people remember.” To remember today is to go visit the Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C., to take an interest in the proceedings against the conduct of the Swiss banks during the Second World War, or else to take part in the protests against the establishment of a Carmelite convent on the site of Auschwitz. But this duty of memory is not an end in itself. Its implications are not confined to the archives of history. They concern the present and the future of the Jewish people of the diaspora and of Israel, whose birth remains intimately linked to the shock provoked by the Shoah. Since 1948, the attachment of American Jews to the State of Israel, which is often envisaged as a symbol of human or divine justice, has never wavered. The bonds that have been woven between the United States and Israel are real and deep. Thirty percent of American Jews have family or close friends living there. So anxiety rises in times of crisis. The bonds tighten. Gestures of solidarity multiply. The war of 1967 was the first telling example of this transatlantic fraternity. Likewise, in 1991, seven hundred million dollars passed between the coffers of American Jewish organizations and Israel, which, in addition to Operation Exodus, was orchestrating the departure of the Jews from Ethiopia. Generally, the annual financial contribution of American Jews to Israel comes close to 300 million dollars. This generosity and this devotion are all the more justified in that they are directed toward a friendly country, an ally of the United States, a democratic space within a tormented region. The idea of supporting a state that does honor to the values of American democracy remains gratifying and valued. The right of a people to exist on its ancestral land figures among the notions to which Americans of all faiths grant a capital importance, for in their eyes it is a just and legitimate cause. Support for the State of Israel does not work to the detriment of the Jews; on the contrary, it makes them Americans worthy of the name, since they are mindful of the well-being of others.