Although most of us think of the Festival of Lights as a warm, unifying holiday, historically, Hanukkah involved civil war between Hellenized and non-Hellenized Jews. Records from that era, in the 2nd century BCE, describe violent confrontations between the Maccabees and their fellow Jews who had embraced Greek paganism. Later, rabbinic Judaism reshaped the story to focus on possibility, on miracles and on shared Jewish identity. This year, it is especially important to embrace that reframing.

Like all groups in the United States, Jewish Americans have differing opinions on moral questions and on a vision for society. However, if there is something that we must learn from the convergence of antisemitism on the right and on the left, it is that
buying into the polarization of American politics is calamitous for American Jews. The notion that either Democrats or Republicans will be our salvation is a mistake.

It is a mistake for utilitarian reasons: Each political party is dynamic, and both are susceptible to antisemitic manipulation.

We lose power as a people when we are bitterly divided among ourselves. Instead, we need Jews to be active—and to advocate for Jewish concerns—in both parties. We need to be able to reach across the aisle to one another, seeking help and addressing issues that impact our community together. Additionally, Jews must be able to criticize their own party, rather than be blinded by the aspects they agree with. We must remain vigilant in our awareness of Jewish vulnerability.

Blind belief in political parties is also a mistake for ideological reasons: Polarization is, of course, not unique to our time. Over 100 years ago, Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook, chief rabbi of the pre-state Jewish settlement in Palestine, addressed the divisions he observed. Three ideological camps battled within the Jews of the nascent Jewish state: religionists, nationalists and cosmopolitans. Religionists eschewed both nationalism and cosmopolitanism in favor of a particularistic service of God. Nationalists rejected religion, opting instead for political particularism. And cosmopolitans rejected all particularism.

Rav Kook recognized all three ideological commitments as necessary within a collective, and he argued that the checks and balances they provide one another might prevent fundamentalism. As he wrote in an essay: “…for each group must be influenced by the opposing force of the other…this will save each group from the defects of fundamentalism and extremism…”

Rav Kook invites us to disagree loudly and proudly, but to recognize what we gain ideologically by being part of a diverse Jewish ecosystem.

Finally, the idea that either Democrats or Republicans will save us is a mistake for religious reasons: We certainly must do what we can to ensure our own thriving, and yet we have so much in our tradition that cautions us against political power being the totality of our values and our hope for continuity.

Before his death, Moses warns the Israelites that they dare not fall into the trap of thinking that it is their own power and might that have been the key to their success (Deuteronomy 8:17-18). Instead, Moses advises them to be humble before God and to stay true to the values and behaviors that a covenantal life entails.

In our own day, I might put it as follows: Rather than relating to ourselves and to each other primarily in terms of politics, let us turn to our shared Jewish history, traditions, beliefs and practices. Politics are but one dimension of our identities, not the sum total.

So this year, as we light our Hanukkah candles, and when we see the candles of others, let us remember that shared symbols represent not only shared history, but a shared future. And may that future, God willing, be full of healing and promise. 

Elana Stein Hain is the Rosh Beit Midrash of the Shalom Hartman Institute of North America.