Dr. Alex Grobman is the senior resident scholar at the John C. Danforth Society, a member of the Council of Scholars for Peace in the Middle East, and serves on the advisory board of the National Christian Leadership Conference for Israel.
American Jews stand at a critical crossroads, caught between a centuries-old religious mandate and the fraying promise of the “Golden Medina." On one side stands the ancient obligation of Yishuv Eretz Yisrael-the commandment to settle and live in the Land of Israel, the only true home for Jewish sovereignty and the fullest expression of Jewish national life. On the other side is the modern conviction that the United States offers a unique, pluralistic sanctuary where Jewish safety can be secured through integration, political advocacy, and social acceptance.
Yet as antisemitism rises with alarming force across the West, this sense of security is being tested. What many American (and UK) Jews once viewed as a durable strategy may now be revealed as something far more fragile: a psychological defense mechanism. The question is no longer theoretical. Are American (and UK) Jews preserving a strategic haven in the Diaspora, or are they exchanging the mitzvah of Yishuv Eretz Yisrael for the illusion of permanent safety?
Living in the Land of Israel is considered a fundamental religious duty because the Land is viewed as the natural environment for the Jewish soul and the only place where Torah can be fulfilled in its entirety. This concept, known as Yishuv Eretz Yisrael, is rooted in the biblical command to “possess the Land and dwell in it," which the Ramban, Nachmanides, identifies as a permanent obligation for every generation.
Beyond the legal requirement, the Talmud emphasizes the unique spiritual connection between the Jew and the Land, teaching that one who lives in Israel is more closely bound to the Divine Presence. Practically, many of the Torah’s commandments-especially those related to agriculture, such as tithes, ma’aserot, and the Sabbatical year, Shemittah-can be observed only within the borders of the Land.
Consequently, religious authorities have often described living in Israel not merely as a place of residence, but as a “super-mitzvah," one that elevates all other religious acts and serves as the ultimate expression of Jewish national and spiritual identity.
The Land Was Reserved for Them
Jewish tradition teaches that the Land was reserved for the Jewish people from creation because of its unique spiritual character. Philosopher Eliezer Schweid asserts that a distinct sanctity permeates the Land, making residence there of supreme importance, even overshadowing other biblical commandments.
“The Jew must live among his sovereign people in order to fulfill the commandments-this is Maimonides’ basic assumption," Schweid observes, “and the sanctity of the land is founded on it…." Anyone who lives in the Land is certain to have a place in the world to come, while one who leaves it permanently, quoting the Sages, “is like a man who has no God." For Schweid, the Land is “unique and irreplaceable." It cannot be exchanged for any other.
The Rambam, Maimonides, maintained that the Land became sanctified through Jewish habitation. “It is the relationship bound up with the national possession of the land based on the Torah," Schweid wrote, “that sanctified it to the people of Israel and none other." Joshua’s conquest sanctified the Land, but when the Jews were forced into exile in Babylon, that sanctity was interrupted. It was restored only when the Jews returned to the Land of Judah after the decree of Cyrus in 538 BCE.
The point is not merely historical. It is civilizational. The Jewish people are not simply attached to the Land by memory, nostalgia, or trauma. The Land is the arena in which Jewish destiny is meant to unfold.
“Israel Is Too Dangerous"
What, then, should be said to those who claim that Jews today are safer in America (or the UK) than in Israel? What about those who argue that Israel’s policies expose Jews worldwide to greater danger and that Jewish security is better served by integration into liberal democracies than by Jewish sovereignty?
This argument rests on the belief that Jewish safety is best protected through universal human rights, democratic institutions, social justice coalitions, and political advocacy rather than through a Jewish state. For many American Jews, the United States appears to offer precisely this: constitutional protections, civic equality, economic opportunity, and public legitimacy.
But history demands a more sober assessment. Jewish security in the Diaspora has always depended, ultimately, on the goodwill of others. When that goodwill holds, the arrangement feels permanent. When it weakens, Jews discover how quickly acceptance can turn conditional.
This is the great vulnerability of Diaspora life. It can produce comfort, influence, and even greatness. But it cannot produce sovereignty.
The “Single-Target" Argument
Some contend that concentrating Jews in Israel creates a dangerous “single target." A dispersed Jewish people, they argue, prevents one catastrophic blow and preserves a global Jewish presence capable of advocating for Israel and Jewish interests.
Kenneth Levin, in The Canary on the Couch, views this argument as a sophisticated rationalization for maintaining exile. The “sitting duck" fear, in Levin’s clinical analysis, ignores the fundamental transformation achieved by Zionism: Jews are no longer a defenseless minority dependent on the mercy of host nations. In Israel, Jews possess sovereignty, an army, intelligence services, diplomacy, and the capacity for self-defense.
History shows that Jews have been most vulnerable not when they were concentrated in their ancestral homeland, but when they were scattered among nations whose tolerance could evaporate overnight. The Diaspora may offer comfort, but it also institutionalizes dependency.
Levin is especially critical of the claim that American Jews must remain in the United States in order to advocate for Israel. He argues that much of American Jewish leadership has failed in this mission by prioritizing non-reciprocal alliances and universalist social causes that frequently turn against Jewish interests. What was presented as influence often became accommodation. What was framed as moral leadership often became political self-erasure.
Under the framework of exchanging Yishuv Eretz Yisrael for false security, these arguments appear less like strategic realism and more like psychological defenses. They create the illusion of safety, influence, and control while avoiding the religious and national demand of Jewish return.
Ruth Gavison’s Four Responses
Professor Ruth Gavison of The Hebrew University offered four powerful responses to the claim that Israel is too dangerous or that Jewish life is safer elsewhere.
“First," she wrote, “even if it is true that Jews in Israel are not safe, Jews in Israel do not depend for their safety and security on the goodwill of rulers and the societies hosting them. This is a critical element of what the Zionist revolution was all about."
This is the core issue. Israel may face enemies, wars, terrorism, missiles, and international hostility. But Jews in Israel defend themselves as a sovereign people. Their fate is not outsourced.
“Second," Gavison continued, “the safety of Jews around the world may be related to the existence of Israel in complex ways. While debates and opposition to the policies of Israel may contribute to antisemitism, clearly antisemitism existed before Israel, and having a place of refuge and a state that may use diplomatic and other measures to defend Jews may be significant."
This response dismantles one of the most dangerous modern claims: that Israel is the cause of antisemitism. Antisemitism long predates the State of Israel. It existed before "settlements", before checkpoints, before the Six-Day War, before 1948, and before Zionism itself. To blame Jewish sovereignty for Jew-hatred is to adopt the logic of the antisemite: that Jews are safe only when they are powerless.
“Third," Gavison wrote, “Zionism was also concerned with the quality of Jewish life permitted by life in the Diaspora. Israel is the only country in the world that gives Jews an opportunity to apply Judaism to the totality of their existence, including the political level."
This is often forgotten. Zionism was not merely a rescue project. It was not only about saving Jewish bodies. It was about restoring Jewish public life. Only in Israel can Jewish values shape law, language, agriculture, defense, education, holidays, public space, and national destiny.
“Finally," Gavison concluded, “Israel is the only place in the world where a Jew can live in a public culture that is Jewish. Israel is the only place in the world where pressures to assimilate work toward Judaism rather than against it. For those who care about the continuation of Jewish identity and transmitting it, Israel provides the only place in which Jewish identity can flourish in the ways made possible by a Jewish public sphere."
This may be the decisive argument. In America, Jewish continuity requires resistance. In Israel, it is reinforced by the public square. In America, the Jew must constantly swim against the current of assimilation. In Israel, the calendar, language, culture, and public rhythm pull the Jew toward Jewishness.
The Illusion of Permanent Exile
None of this denies the extraordinary achievements of American Jewry. The United States has provided Jews with freedom, opportunity, influence, and prosperity unmatched by most Diaspora communities in history. American Jews have built institutions of learning, charity, activism, and culture that have served the Jewish people well.
But gratitude is not the same as permanence. Success is not the same as security. Influence is not the same as sovereignty.
The central mistake is to confuse a favorable historical moment with a covenantal destination. America may be a great country. It may remain a vital ally of Israel and a place where Jews can live meaningful lives. But it is not Eretz Yisrael. It is not the land promised to Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov. It is not the place where the Jewish people are commanded to build their national future.
The modern American Jewish predicament is therefore not merely political. It is theological, psychological, and civilizational. The Jewish people must decide whether exile, even a golden exile, can be treated as a substitute for redemption.
For generations, Jews prayed to return to Zion. They faced Jerusalem in prayer, mourned its destruction, broke a glass under the wedding canopy, and ended the Seder with L’shanah haba’ah b’Yerushalayim-next year in Jerusalem. To transform that longing into a lifestyle preference, or to treat Israel as merely one option among many, is to diminish the deepest grammar of Jewish history.
The question is not whether American Jews may live meaningful, committed Jewish lives in America. Many do. The question is whether the American Jewish community has mistaken comfort for destiny.
At this moment of rising hostility, institutional cowardice, and collapsing illusions, the answer can no longer be avoided. The Jewish people were not commanded to manage exile indefinitely. They were commanded to return, to build, to dwell, and to live as a sovereign nation in the Land given to them.
To exchange that mitzvah for the shaky promise of Diaspora safety is not prudence. It is a dangerous bargain with history.