Our Brothers' Keepers

Once again faithful readers may be excused for misconstruing another provocative title and leaping to the erroneous conclusion that it refers to your scribe's rendering some material or emotional assistance to a distressed sibling.

In this case, however -- and to preserve familial amity -- brotherhood is meant to encompass a much broader fraternity, a definition which may entice some readers to anticipate a virulent political diatribe, either for or against the presumed socialist (to employ the ominous term embraced by a legion of talk-show hosts and conservative commentators) prescriptions of some recently-passed health care legislation. For surely now we are more than ever our brothers' keepers.

But no; the brothers I speak of are not the the infirm, ill-housed, impoverished, and undernourished in this country. Rather they are my ethnic kinsmen, and principally those not native to the United States, Jews from all corners of the globe, including the State of Israel, many of whom -- either themselves or their progeny -- having survived the firing squads and the gas chambers of the Holocaust and having escaped the persecution and repression of more contemporary anti-Semitic regimes, owe their rescue, rehabilitation, and revitalization to one of the most remarkable philanthropic enterprises in history: the United Jewish Appeal, now known as the Jewish Federations of North America.

The United Jewish Appeal -- I use the anachronistic appellation because it seems to reflect more accurately the organization's mission -- raises money, principally in the United States, for Jewish causes worldwide through a far-reaching network of volunteers and professionals in communities large and small. And, as I learned from my father, one of the obligations of Jewish citizenship was to assist in that effort -- regardless of the depth or breadth of one's religious beliefs.

I watched him do it for twenty years -- as he had watched his uncle do it for the prior generation: chairing the Lynchburg Jewish Community Council; hosting hushed gatherings in his home at which seven or eight men in attendance were assigned individual solicitations; calling prospective donors on the telephone or visiting them in their homes; organizing annual banquets at the Synagogue, during which, after an informative talk by a guest speaker, he would deliver, in his own inimitable manner, an impassioned plea for funds; reviewing pledge cards and then delegating bookkeeping duties to a Congregational volunteer or, if one were not available, to his own executive assistant -- all of which I have emulated like a shadow since he died in 1989, and the mantle of leadership descended upon me.

Jewish philanthropy is hardly a recent phenomenon. In fact, I spoke about its centuries-old tradition at my inaugural event, having harvested a few kernels of knowledge while teaching a religious school class.

As Christianity began to spread throughout the Mediterranean, after Constantine the Great declared it the official religion of the Roman Empire, many Jews were sold into slavery or kidnapped by pirates; money to buy their freedom or pay a ransom was supplied by their fellow Jews.

During the Middle ages in Spain, the great Jewish philosopher and physician, Maimonides, wrote: "We have never heard of a Jewish community that does not have a fund for charity."

In the sixteenth century, when Jews were confined to the urban ghettos of Italy and the shtetl villages of Poland, where the rich and the poor lived side by side, every person helped his neighbor and even the poorest was treated decently, for such was the decree of Jewish law.

During the same period, a wealthy Jewish woman named Gracia Mendes Nasi was forced to flee the Inquisition, successively from Spain to Portugal to the Netherlands to Italy, and finally to Constantinople. Despite her travails, she continued to help Jews in need, so much so that she came to be known as "the Angel of the Marranos."

Typical of successful Jewish entrepreneurs in the United States, who prospered in the new world of freedom and opportunity and who were charitable to both Jews and gentiles, was Joseph Touro of New Orleans; he gave money to build churches and synagogues and to aid the poor.

In the late 1800's, as a trickle of Russian Jews, desperate to escape the oppressive rule of Czar Alexander II, made their way to a ravaged Palestine, a wealthy Englishman, Moses Montefiore, spent the bulk of his fortune in reclamation and restoration projects. Among these were a girls' school and a windmill to grind flour for the residents of Jerusalem.

During his lifetime Baron Edmund de Rothschild of France gave more to Palestine than all the rest of the Jews in the world combined. He bought over 125,000 acres of land for repopulation and development. His experts helped Jewish settlers drain swamps, install irrigation systems, and launch new industries.

On June 10, 1939, the United Jewish Appeal was born. The fund-raising campaigns of the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee, the United Palestine Appeal, and the National Coordinating Committee for Aid to Refugees were merged to create a unified body that could act swiftly and effectively to aid the Jews of Europe. One hundred sixty two thousand lives were saved by this coalition.

Which brings this mini-narrative to 1945, the end of World War II, when the remnants of European Jewry, liberated from the Nazi concentration camps, were left homeless and destitute, stripped not only of their meager possessions but also of their human dignity. Most had no interest in returning to their war-torn countries of origin -- Poland, Hungary, Romania. Thousands were thrown together in sixty-four makeshift displaced person camps in Germany and Austria, awaiting processing and possible emigration to a Jewish homeland, an outcome that was by no means guaranteed. (Friedman, p. 53)

In his autobiography, Roots of the Future, Rabbi Herbert Friedman -- who would become Executive Director of the United Jewish Appeal in 1954 -- describes the rescue of thousands of these Jews from Eastern Europe. On trucks, wagon, trains, and on foot, they would stream towards the Polish border town of Stettin, from which ten thousand per month -- in six vans, each holding 50 persons -- would be transported on treacherous 200-kilometer drives from Stettin to Berlin through Russian territory in the dead of night. The price for admitting one Jew at the Stettin border was $150, or one carton of black-market cigarettes, the post-war currency of choice -- a total of $45,000 for each precious 300-person cargo, some of which came from American soldiers, much more from Jews back home in America. (Friedman. p. 64)

From Berlin (and Munich, another collection point), refugees were moved by truck or convoy as rapidly as possible to the displaced person camps in the American Zone of Occupation. A few braved another trip south to French embarkation ports or a brutal trek on foot across the Austrian Alps to Italy, where ships operated by the Haganah, the independent armed force of the Jews in Palestine, waited to pick them up and smuggle them past the Arab-appeasing British into the new country. Sadly, of sixty-five Haganah vessels, fifty-seven were ultimately captured, along with 60,000 passengers, who were interred in a holding camp on the island of Cyprus.

The fledgling United Jewish Appeal had raised $15 million in 1945, with the War still on, amidst deep gloom. But the next year American Jews sent a resounding message to the thousands stranded in the displaced person camps by increasing that amount sevenfold to an astounding $102 million. "Action had replaced frustration; determination had replaced impotent rage; and feelings of solidarity and peoplehood overwhelmed an American Jewry that had been separated by oceans of space and a half-century of time from its European roots." (Friedman, p. 91).

Two Jewish welfare groups -- funded by the United Jewish Appeal -- were a lifeline of support to the struggling refugees. The American Joint Distribution Committee supplemented the 2000 calories per person per day furnished by the American military with an additional 1000 calories. The Jewish Agency for Palestine sent teachers, social workers, psychologists, rabbis, and administrators to help residents adjust to camp life and engage in productive activity (Friedman, p. 57) -- in an environment "where each day seemed to stretch endlessly, hopelessly . . . where the inmates marked time while history worked out a destiny that lay completely out of their control." (Friedman. p. 128)

In February 1947, the British, weary of refereeing the deadly crossfire between contentious Jews and Arabs battling for control of a tiny parcel of land in the Middle East, announced that they would relinquish the Mandate they had held since the end of World War I and turn the problem over to the United Nations. On November 29th, that body voted to partition Palestine into two states -- one Jewish, one Arab.

The Jewish Agency accepted the partition plan; the Arabs rejected and attempted to undermine it by fomenting guerilla warfare. On May 15th, 1948, the day after Israel proclaimed its independence, the British withdrew their administrative and military personnel, and the regular armies of five Arab states attacked from all directions. After eighteen month of sporadic combat, they were repulsed and agreed to a cease-fire, leaving Israel intact but hardly secure.

Coincident with the establishment of the Jewish State was the emergence of a new generation of leaders in America, in local communities and on the national stage. Henry Morgenthau -- who, as President Roosevelt's Secretary of the Treasury, was the first of his religion ever appointed to a Cabinet post -- epitomized this empowerment when he was named National Chairman of the United Jewish Appeal in 1947.

Enthusiasm and solicitude for the new nation drove fund-raising in 1948 to $147 million. The United Jewish Appeal was instrumental in emptying the camps in Europe, which by then were holding 250,000 displaced persons, in furnishing medical supplies, food, and clothing to the 60,000 internees on Cyprus, in underwriting their eventual transfer to Israel, and in airlifting entire endangered communities to safety -- 50,000 from Yemen in "Operation Magic Carpet" and 120,000 from Iraq in "Operations Ezra and Nehemiah." By 1950, Israel's population had doubled from its pre-war number to 1,200,000.

That same year, however, despite their unprecedented accomplishments, the United Jewish Appeal and its overseas partner faced another crisis. War fever and the exhilaration of independence having subsided, contributions fell precipitously to $60 million, threatening Israel's very raison d'etre, for this was a country founded on the principle that its doors would always be open to oppressed Jews anywhere in the world.

At a meeting of Jewish leaders in Jerusalem, Dr. Nahum Goldmann, a veteran Zionist, spoke candidly and forcefully on the urgency of the situation. He said: "American Jewry has not risen to the occasion these last two years . . . This period will end with either success or tragedy . . . If lack of funds compels Israel to restrict immigration, the result will be a moral breakdown for the Jews of Israel and around the world." (Friedman, p. 165)

Robert Nathan, a former adviser to President Roosevelt, told the group that the population of Israel could not save enough to invest in the country's economic development and absorb the 600,000 newcomers expected in the next two years -- at a cost of $1.5 billion, $2500 per person. Prime Minister David Ben-Gurion said his government could provide $500 million; the rest would have to come from other sources. (Friedman, p.166)

After considerable debate, the conferees adopted a courageous three-pronged strategy. First, a new financial instrument would be created: Israeli Bonds. With American Jewry committed to large-scale subscriptions, the Israeli government would float public loans at competitive rates, redeemable at specified future dates, dedicating the proceeds to infrastructure projects. First-year Bond sales in 1951 yielded $52 million. "As of year end 1998, the forty-sixth anniversary of the Bond Drive, a total of $19 billion had been sold, of which $15 billion had been repaid to purchasers." (Friedman, p. 170)

Second, instead of closing or shrinking the United Jewish Appeal, as some had proposed, a concerted effort would be undertaken to revitalize and expand it, to seek larger individual contributions and to broaden its reach. Third, to realize the potentials of private investment, the Israeli government would intensively market such opportunities to international business interests.

Reawakened to the urgency of its mission, flexing a new-found strength, the United Jewish Appeal recommitted itself to the ingathering of exiles. The case of one afflicted community is instructive -- the three hundred thousand Jews of Morocco.

In the ghettos of Casablanca, called mullahs, where eighty thousand lived literally in holes in the wall, without lights, air, or water, six to ten persons per bed, their only piece of furniture, Jewish-sponsored medical facilities and schools were essential to survival -- treating two dreaded diseases, "parch," which infects children's scalps, and trachoma, which can cause blindness; distributing milk to newborns; offering religious, secular, and vocational instruction; and providing free, healthy meals daily.

But even this bleak existence was imperiled when, in 1955, the native Muslims overthrew their French colonial masters, exposing the Moroccan Jews to a fierce anti-Semitic nationalism. Faced with a large-scale migration at a cost far exceeding the United Jewish Appeal's current resources, Rabbi Friedman initiated the first of many Special Funds, raising $14 million in 1956, over and above the regular campaign, which itself saw an increase. The rescue ships once again set sail, ferrying more embattled and impoverished from a place where they had no future to a new homeland.

In 1957 Egypt expelled its entire Jewish population of 50,000, who joined equal numbers fleeing terror and violence in revolution-torn Hungary and resurgent anti-Semitism in Poland -- all facilitated by a $100 million Emergency Rescue Fund. The next year Communist Romania lifted emigration restrictions, opening the floodgates to another 100,000 (ultimately four times that number) -- 2000 per week, via a three-day voyage from Constanza on the Black Sea to Haifa, ransomed at $1200 per head. Wave after wave continued to roll in from Iran, where the living conditions for Jews were no less appalling than what so many had endured in Morocco.

When raising money to purchase exit permits, speakers would conclude with these rhetorical questions hanging in the air: "Are you worth $1200? Suppose it was you who needed to be rescued. Wouldn't you like to believe that some other Jew, somewhere in the world, would be willing to pay that amount to bring you to safety and freedom in the United States?" (Friedman, p. 299)

By 1960 the inadequacies of the Israeli education system -- so indispensable to the nation's security and prosperity -- were painfully evident: overcrowded classrooms; a dearth of qualified teachers; students burdened by a new language, Hebrew; the absence of high schools and pre-schools. In 1964, in order to solicit large sums for school construction, Rabbi Friedman conceived of and brought to fruition the Israel Education Fund (IEF). Committed to maintaining the integrity of the regular United Jewish Appeal campaign, he established the minimum IEF gift at $100,000 and made an increase to the former a prerequisite to IEF participation.

Eleven donors contributed $1,100,000 to build Israel's first high school, in Jerusalem, in the semi-slum district of Katamon, heavily populated by North African Sephardic Jews, who needed it the most. It was named "Denmark High School," in honor of the Danes who had saved the nation's 7,000 Jews on Yom Kippur eve, when the Nazis had planned to arrest and execute them. From 1964 to 1967, the IEF raised $250 million and built almost 800 high schools, colleges, youth centers, and pre-kindergartens. (Friedman, pp. 266-267)

United Jewish Appeal leaders had already visited Israel and been informed by government officials of the imminence of war -- and been asked how much money they could raise and how fast -- by the time a preemptive air strike on June 5, 1967, destroyed Egypt's air force and set the stage for the stirring six-day victory over that country, Jordan, and Syria. Back home, their Emergency Campaign needed only five weeks to raise most of the $175 million it ultimately generated, which, combined with seventy-five million regular dollars, broke all records. In a spontaneous outburst, people lined up to give: in synagogues, activity centers, day schools, and federation offices, and to any individual known as community leader.

While "fear of a national catastrophe and the awareness of a miraculous escape from destruction were powerful stimulants, the positive aspects of love for and identification with Israel and its people were equally strong . . . This fundamental attitude of American Jewry toward Israel, which surged for a short time at its birth in 1948 but never took hold thereafter in any really solid and permanent manner, came to maturity with the Six-Day War, and has remained rock-solid ever since" -- in spite of disagreements with the government over domestic and foreign policies. (Friedman, p. 278)

Six years later Egypt and Syria, intent on redeeming their humiliating defeat and reclaiming their lost territory, emboldened by a full arsenal of Soviet equipment, launched simultaneous attacks into the Sinai Desert and across the Golan Heights. The Israeli government had been advised by its United States allies not to act preemptively and to absorb the first blows, in order to demonstrate that the Arabs were the aggressors and to permit full U.S. support.

For five harrowing days, the country's survival hung in the balance, as it suffered severe losses in manpower, tanks, and fighter planes. American resupply was problematic until -- after Great Britain, Spain, and Germany had all refused landing facilities for aircraft refueling -- Portugal offered its base in the Azores. The arrival of the precious cargo at Ben-Gurion Airport turned the tide; Israel was victorious after eighteen days of the hardest fighting in its violent history. American Jews contributed $100 million to the United Jewish Appeal during the first week of the Yom Kippur War.

In the 1970's, in keeping with Israel's changing needs, the United Jewish Appeal and the Israeli government created "Project Renewal," an innovative program which directly linked donors to projects in Israel's urban slums. Since its inception, it has played a key role in revitalizing and rehabilitating over one hundred deteriorating neighborhoods throughout the country.

By 1989 the small Jewish population of Ethiopia -- known as Falashas -- had become increasingly marginalized, living in extreme poverty and caught between warring factions. Their plight set in motion "Operation Moses," in which 15,000 of these outcasts were extracted and transported to Israel in two daring airlifts, at a cost of $180 million. Other initiatives provided food, clothing, and education to the relocated Falashas.

The most compelling rescue and resettlement effort orchestrated by the long, illustrious alliance between Israel and American Jewry was the massive emigration of 800,000 Jews from the Soviet Union in the years 1990 to 1995, funded in part by its auxiliary campaign, "Operation Exodus," which ultimately collected $900 million.

This movement was propelled by a sharp rise in Russian anti-Semitism after the collapse of Communism and its centralizing authority -- which manifested itself in synagogue attacks, cemetery desecrations, hate rallies, and the public scapegoating of Jews for economic and political failures.

American Jewry's mini-march on Washington D.C. and intense lobbying with U.S. lawmakers and diplomats were instrumental in pressuring Russian officials to "let these people go."

Once the iron curtain was lifted, like a thundering herd, the stampede to freedom was unstoppable. For Russian Jews desperate to escape, the process was arduous and frustrating. They had to receive invitations from Israeli citizens, apply for permission to emigrate, turn over all their possessions to customs inspectors, and wait for commercial flights that might be backed up for a year. The cost to transport a family of three from the Soviet Union to Israel was $4500 -- $250,000 to $500,000 for a planeload -- all of which was funded by the United Jewish Appeal.

In Israel, resources and absorption centers were stretched to the limit by the great influx of new residents. The United Jewish Appeal furnished $5000 (the Israeli government another $5000) to cover one-year of living expenses for a family of three -- paying for rent, utilities, and basic household supplies. It purchased one hundred apartment buildings for immigrants who couldn't qualify for government-subsidized mortgages -- mainly the elderly, handicapped, and unemployable. It sponsored retraining programs for academics, physicians, scientists, and artists.

Despite all that, the United Jewish Appeal's $900 million contribution amounted to less than one-tenth of the $10 billion it cost the Israeli government to receive and shelter the Russian escapees.

In 1991, after Saddam Hussein fired Scud missiles at Israel, the United Jewish Appeal had its largest fundraising year ever: $1.2 billion, more than the combined earnings of the American Cancer Society, CARE, and the March of Dimes. Since then, it has averaged about $800 million a year -- as it strives to fulfill its mission and meet the continuing challenges facing world Jewry.

Encircled by enemies who seek its destruction, struggling to resolve the intractable problem of a restless Palestinian population, reeling from the effects of a global recession, Israel needs its partner now more than ever. Unemployment is in double digits, with new layoffs reported every month. Domestic violence incidents and suicide rates remain at high levels. More than 330,000 children are considered to be at significant social risk.

United Jewish Appeal funds reach more than 60,000 of these children, by working to reduce drop-out rates, delinquency, and drug use, by distributing hot meals, and by sponsoring extended, enriched schooling for an entire year. Other programs facilitate the absorption of recent immigrants into Israeli society and assist with security measures in civilian areas exposed to terrorism or military attack.

Around the world, no system feeds, clothes, houses, or cares for more people than the United Jewish Appeal -- by sending food and winter relief to 160,000 elderly Jews in the former Soviet Union; by supplying supermarket debit cards, job retraining workshops, and mortgage subsidies to 39,000 Argentinians; by sustaining Holocaust survivors in Central and Eastern Europe; and by showing pockets of Jews in Africa and Asia how to build vibrant communities and reconnect to their culture.

How can a small group of Americans each year raise sums that almost equal those amassed by the United Way and the Red Cross? How has the United Jewish Appeal been able to unify and mobilize Jews the world over in this great, voluntary, humanitarian endeavor?

Just as, according to the late Tip O'Neill, all politics is local, so too is all fundraising. The United Jewish Appeal operates through an extensive network of grass roots organizations, whose members, both volunteers and professionals, conduct individual solicitations, plan and execute educational and motivational events, and perpetuate themselves through the recruitment and training of future standard bearers.

In large communities, professionally-staffed federations not only raise money for Israel and world Jewry; with about fifty per cent of their proceeds, they also fund local Jewish social services, education, and activity centers. Non-federated councils serve small communities, where local needs are minimal and most of the contributions can be allocated to the national organization.

The United Jewish Appeal has survived and prospered because it raises not just money; it raises people. In 1963 Rabbi Friedman unveiled a 33 (now 350) member Young Leadership Cabinet. Friedman believed that his generation -- the men and women of the 1940's and 1950's, many of whom had been born in Eastern Europe -- carried the memories of the ghetto and shtetl "deep within their souls," and that "the cries that came from their hearts on behalf of murdered or stateless Jews" were "raw emotional responses" that needed no rational explanations. (Friedman, p.227)

On the other hand, younger generations would be found lacking "the necessary historic memory." His strategy was to inculcate this memory through education, making sure leadership candidates had a firm grounding in Jewish history and the Holocaust -- and then create the emotional component by having them visit the European sites of destruction, tour the survivors' new homeland, and listen to powerful, passionate speakers. (Friedman, p. 227)

Not even Friedman could have envisioned how his idea would evolve into a cornerstone of United Jewish Appeal cultivation. Now -- as has been the practice for some time -- not just leaders but all donors and prospects are encouraged to participate in subsidized group missions to Israel, "the center of the universe for the Jewish people," where the people, land, and faith coalesce in an overarching, unforgettable, timeless image. (Friedman, p.361)

In artfully designed -- but no less instructive, affective, and inspirational -- itineraries, visitors are exposed to Israel's people -- idealists thriving on a kibbutz, soldiers guarding a border, bus drivers waxing eloquently -- in a land of incredible variety -- whose deserts, seas, mountains, orchards, and villages stretch back over 2000 years to the time of kings, prophets, and temples -- but with a host of contemporary problems -- which entails stops at army bases, immigrant absorption centers, and retirement homes.

In fact, I can remember one incredible day in 1996: rising at dawn to ascend the heights of Mount Masada, where a courageous band of Jewish zealots chose death over a life of slavery, and gazing down upon the remains of a Roman camp twenty centuries old; sitting at midday on the grandstand at the Nevatim Air Force Base, watching fighter jets take off and land every five minutes, training the best pilots in the world; and, finally, in late afternoon, walking through an Ethiopian caravan camp in Eshcubit and stumbling upon a thatched hut synagogue, surrounded by skimpily-clad men, women, and children, a handful of the 15,000 who had been airlifted from Addis Ababa five years earlier.

These missions often end with a caucus, one of several especially effective techniques employed by United Jewish Appeal fundraisers. On the penultimate day, in a hotel or on a bus, participants gather to express their connection to the land and its people, to share their opinions, impressions, personal feelings, and usually some poignant experience, and sometimes to make a vocal commitment.

This last phase is a variation of another technique, card-calling, in which each person sitting in a group of donors announces in turn -- after the leader has reminded him of his prior year's gift -- his pledge for the coming year; the expectation is, of course, that it will be larger.

Individual solicitation is, of course, the most preferred technique. Before a face-to-face meeting, information is collected on the prospect -- his close friends, country club affiliation, special interests, other philanthropic causes, and attitude toward Israel. Community members are consulted to give him a rating, to establish an amount to ask for.

And then the well-informed, passionate solicitor makes his case. Rabbi Friedman's was ideologically-based, simple, and straightforward: "The sacredness of Jewish survival, for the sake of both the Jewish people and the world at large; the value of every Jewish life, especially now, in view of the genocidal Holocaust; the inestimable worth of Israel as physical and spiritual center; the responsibility of every Jew for every other and for the homeland." (Friedman, p.328)

After all the meetings have been held, the speeches made, the missions joined, the appeals heard, what accounts for the astonishing generosity of American Jewry, which has given over the past seventy years literally billions of dollars to succor its oppressed brethren?

In Rabbi Friedman's words, for two thousand years, Jewish consciousness has been informed by two concepts: "tzedekah (commonly translated as 'charity,' but more accurately as 'justice' or 'righteousness') and 'mitzvah' (a good deed). Every Jewish person, even the most assimilated, knows the meaning of these two words. That doesn't mean all Jews contribute; but all know they should, because the religion teaches the simple principle that humans have a responsibility for other humans. An act of charity is not doing someone a favor but performing a deed of righteousness based on a moral imperative. One must act justly toward one's neighbor. That intellectual and ethical infrastructure is the basis for individual and communal conduct. From this flows successful fundraising." (Friedman, p.330)

Although many donors have a strong religious attachment to Israel -- the birthplace of Judaism -- and are motivated by their deep-seated faith, others may not be, and I include myself in that category. My own theological predilections -- or lack thereof -- are well documented in an article I wrote on this web site two years ago, in which I described myself as a skeptic rather than a believer, who rarely attends synagogue services and observes the customary Jewish holidays only at family gatherings.

In truth, however, and I believe I speak for other like-minded fellow travellers, in a reversal of the normal cause-and-effect relationship, chairing the local Jewish Community Council, trying to raise a few dollars for those who need them, and giving an amount commensurate with my capacity are the means by which I connect to my Jewish heritage, honor the tradition into which I was born in a secular, ethical manner, and express my commitment to its preservation.

In his book "Chutzpah," Alan Dershowitz reveals another reason American Jews have been so responsive to the plight of their distant brothers. On visiting Auschwitz, he writes: "On a list of those gassed . . . I found the names of two Dershowitzes and the name of one man with my mother's family name. The appearance of my name brought home the message that, for the grace of God and the foresight of my grandparents, I and my entire family might have been eliminated." Later, reflecting on the Holocaust, he writes: "It is important to recognize that American Jews -- even those whose families left Europe before World War II -- are themselves vicarious survivors of the Nazi Holocaust. We were all Hitler's intended victims."

Many of those Jews -- realizing that under different circumstances, instead of enjoying the freedom and opportunity of America, they might have ended up buried beneath the dust of a concentration camp, standing in line for a loaf of bread in Russia, or looking for work in Tel Aviv -- have accepted the responsibility that awareness implies.

Finally, American Jews have poured their heart, soul, and treasure into Israel because they believe it validates their identity as a people, long-suffering, dispersed, yet ultimately courageous, enduring, and hopeful. As they become increasingly invisible, the miracle of Israel provides at least as much value to that identity as their precious dollars do to their grateful recipients. For this people -- which for centuries was marginalized, persecuted, scorned, scapegoated, and nearly exterminated -- to have resurrected itself in a barren desert and established a modern society is a unique and irreplaceable source of pride to their relatives comfortably assimilated thousands of miles away. And their fellow Americans can be no less in admiration.

By sustaining and supporting international Jewry, by rescuing millions from a pernicious fate, by forging unbreakable links between the Jews of America and their brothers in Israel, by awakening Jews to the moral imperatives of their faith, by reinvigorating Jewish life and revitalizing Jewish communities around the world, the United Jewish Appeal stands as the heir and living embodiment of the great Jewish tradition enshrined in the Talmud: "All Jews are responsible for one another." (Goldberg, p. 14)

REFERENCES

Friedman, Herbert A. Roots of the Future. Jerusalem: Gefen Publishing House, 1999.

Goldberg, Donna Lee, ed. Keeping the Promise: The First Fifty Years of the United Jewish Appeal. New York: United Jewish Appeal, 1989.