The Jews in the United States are no longer regarded as a persecuted people “who made it,” but rather as white oppressors whose wealth and standing came at the expense of others.
I have just come back from a weeklong visit to New York, and would like to share some subjective impressions of Jewish and Israeli life and presence there. While Jewish life certainly goes on, it does seem to me that something has changed.
I especially visited areas most heavily frequented by tourists – 42 Street, 5th Avenue, the main branch (Stephen A. Schwarzman) of the New York Public Library, and the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
What struck me first was that one does not hear any Hebrew in any of these locations. The masses of global tourists speak every conceivable language – European and Asian, except one. This struck me because in every tourist venue that I have ever visited – from Trinity College in Dublin to Dubrovnik in Croatia – identifiable Israeli tourists were seen and heard. Is the absence of Hebrew due to a lack of Israeli tourists, or do they just not want to be identified? I do not know.
In a similar fashion – no (or very few) visible kippot. Everyone, including readily identifiable Hasidic Jews, wore baseball caps or other hats – even in midtown Manhattan near the Diamond District on 47th Street. This felt very strange. Since I was in high school in Brooklyn 60 years ago, one could unabashedly wear a kippa in midtown Manhattan.
This same theme emerged in regard to Kosher restaurants. Upon inquiring about them, my NY friend told me that Mendy’s and other well-known kosher establishments don’t really exist anymore as places where one can sit and eat. Rather, their business is mainly take-out and delivery. The one kosher café where I did have breakfast was in the lobby of a hotel, not really out in the open.
My cumulative impression from these observations is that Jews, Israelis, and Jewishness do not appear to have a public presence anymore, even in New York City. What had been the norm 20 or 30 years ago – the public presence of Jewishness – seems to have totally disappeared.
These observations were corroborated by what my New York friends told me. One prominent philanthropist and communal leader said that New York is no longer a Jewish city. She does not feel afraid, but it no longer feels like “her city.” Another friend said that criticism of Israel among Jews has become a trifle more muted, as people become more afraid. They think they may need Israel as a refuge or insurance policy. Why are Jews keeping a low profile even in New York?
Some may connect it to the election of Zohran Mamdani, the new Muslim, anti-Israel mayor of the city. Many people, though, argue that so far, his influence seems to be negligible, at least until he passes a budget. I would suggest that the election of Mamdani itself is a symptom of a deeper cause. The Jews used to be a symbol of New York. This was not only because of the large number of Jews there, making it the largest Jewish city in the world, but because the Jewish meshed so perfectly with the narrative of the city.
New York enables, through its fabulous resources – a world-class city university system, an amazing public library network, and the infinite possibilities of employment – a place where downtrodden and impoverished immigrants can succeed and become middle-class Americans. The Jews were the epitome of that – through attending school and working hard, persecuted and poor Jewish immigrants became doctors, lawyers, engineers, and business people.
The most insidious change in the position of the Jews in the United States is the change in their narrative. They are no longer regarded as a persecuted people “who made it,” but rather as white oppressors whose wealth and standing came at the expense of others. According to this narrative, the Jews do not belong to the city but are rather like a cancer or parasite feeding upon it.
One of the most potent traditional Jewish symbols is that of the Exile – the Galut. In its simplest and most powerful meaning, it connotes that the Jews are out of place, or do not have a place. For some years now, we have been trained to use the word “Diaspora” for the Jewish communities outside of Israel, but perhaps we should start thinking about reverting to the older, more authentic term – Galut.