Washington — There’s a big difference between counting Jews and Jews counting. That message seems to have gotten lost in the hand-wringing following the recent release of the National Jewish Population Survey.
It wasn’t necessary for United Jewish Communities to spend $6 million to find out that we are getting older, take zero population growth too seriously and are shrinking as a percentage of the overall population.
So how to explain that we’ve probably never been more secure and influential in America? It obviously isn’t our productivity in the bedroom.
Size counts, but its importance is exaggerated. More critical are motivation, energy, intelligence, commitment and the perception of power.
Jews have long been involved in American political life, driven by a sense of civic duty and an urgent need to protect important community interests, whether the rights of religious minorities or Israel’s survival.
The greatest threat today to Jewish political clout may not be a falling population but a rising comfort level, a feeling that our survival here is secure and Israel is strong enough to take care of itself.
Whereas most Arab-Americans emigrated here to escape countries where they already were free to be Arabs, Jews came looking for a place where they could be free to be Jewish. It took generations for Jews to accumulate political clout and comfort, to get to the point where they did not feel obligated to vote for a candidate just because he or she was Jewish.
The Jewish community has never relied on raw numbers for its influence, but on being in the right place at the right time — raising needed funds and turning out enough votes in close elections to make a difference.
Politically, Jews have shown a knack for adapting to new situations. The key has always been an educated, committed and sophisticated political base, not sheer numbers.
A young Jewish aide once asked a veteran southwestern senator why he had a 100 percent pro-Israel voting record. “I love Israel, and every time a bill, resolution, letter or something comes up, all 50,000 Jews in my state call me, write to me or come in to see me” demanding support, he said.
That kind of activism is important, especially in a state where the actual number of Jews was less than 10 percent of what the senator thought it was. That’s the formula: demonstration of energy plus perception of power.
New generation here
Jewish voter turnout is traditionally well above the national average. Equally important is that as Jews migrate to communities and states where historically their numbers have been few, they are no longer reluctant to assert their Jewishness. And being Jewish is not the barrier it once was to public office.
Today Jews are elected to courts, state houses and federal offices in such once-unlikely places as Alabama, Iowa, Nevada, Utah, Alaska, Virginia, Oregon and Texas. Wisconsin, a state where Jews comprise about 0.5 percent of the population, has two Jewish U.S. senators.
Increasingly, Jews are bipartisan political players, although less as voters and candidates than as contributors and workers. Jews still vote 70 percent Democratic despite repeated Republican predictions that dramatic change was imminent.
Demographics are not the only change taking place. A new generation of Jews is replacing the one shaped by memories of the Holocaust and Israel’s early struggle for survival. These Jews are removed from the immigrant experience that shaped prior generations. They have a higher comfort level and broader interests.
That will affect their voting patterns and could create opportunities for Republicans to make gains. That may be bad news for the Democrats, but it’s good news for Jews. Being a “swing” vote multiplies a community’s political influence.
Exactly how many American Jews there are is in dispute. UJC’s study says 5.2 million. Other studies say 6.1 million and 6.7 million.
Whatever the number, it should be seen as a challenge — to bring more Jews into the community. In reality, only a small number of Jews are actively involved in Jewish communal life.
As the community grays, the economy worsens and government’s contributions to vital health and social service programs shrink, the burden on federations and other philanthropies expands.
Federations often tend to be program-oriented more than community or culturally focused. To a degree their view of the world through green eye shades is understandable, but it can be costly.
Leadership is too often determined by an ability to write big checks, and is passed on to others with similarly deep pockets. This tends to exclude from policy-making ranks those less financially endowed, even though they may be more creative and willing to challenge the old ideas.
Professional and lay leaders concentrate on cultivating the major givers. Dollars are important, but are they more important than people?
I recently asked the president of a major federation what was being done to identify and involve unaffiliated Jews. She dismissed the question, saying, “It’s just not cost-effective.”
Nothing will do more to accelerate the declining size and influence of the American Jewish community than failing to expand the small circle of activists and bring in a new generation.
Many young marrieds probably cannot afford to give a “major gift” or maybe anything, but is that a good reason to ignore them? Where is it inscribed that community leadership is a function of bank balances?
The $6 million UJC just paid to learn the obvious would have been better spent on finding and engaging people who may not be able to write fat checks but can contribute richly to American Jewish life in many other ways.
Douglas M. Bloomfield is a Washington, D.C.-based syndicated columnist and a former chief lobbyist for the American Israel Public Affairs Committee.
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