July / august 2006:

Field trips from the edge
A Birthright Israel advisor tackles his inner cynic and the outlandish questions of some of his students.

Essay by David Abitbol



How’s it going? I Tivo’d the last episode of Lost. Now you can relax and enjoy your trip! See ya when you get back!

Over the course of the last three years, I’ve been a madrich (trip leader) on four Birthright Israel trips, a program that offers a free ten-day visit to Israel to any Jew between the ages of 18 and 26. On my last trip, we would receive e-mails sent to chanichim (trip participants), print them out, and hand-deliver them every day. The quote above was taken verbatim from one such e-mail which we had received on the second day of the trip.

I was struck by the possibility that someone’s enjoyment of the free ten-day trip to Israel might have been detrimentally affected by the possibility that upon their return to America, they would miss one episode of a favorite television show. Luckily, disaster was averted and the participant in question was able to enjoy the trip, free of any such impediment.

Circumstances like the one described above really force me to do battle with my inner cynic. I’ve been the fortunate beneficiary of 11 years of Jewish school education. After high school I went to Jerusalem to study for a year at Hebrew University’s Rothberg School for Overseas Students. In the years since, I visited Israel at my own expense every chance I had. Nine months ago I moved to Israel permanently. I have a strong sense of Jewish identity, and Israel is an integral and exciting part of that identity.

In the trips I’ve led, most of my chanichim tend to be predominantly secular, unaffiliated young Jews. In that respect, I have little in common with them. While many of their parents affiliate with one or another stream of Judaism, very few of them actually practice their Judaism on a regular basis. Even fewer would know how even if they felt compelled to. Thus it is no wonder that some of them may consider an episode of a television show, compelling as it may be, on par with a free trip to their ancestral homeland.

Was I skeptical six years ago when Birthright Israel first started? Of course. I thought that the Jewish community was naïve to think that a ten-day trip was going to somehow significantly undo a lifetime of inadequate or non-existent Jewish education. I never believed that secular Judaism was sustainable. Judaism for me was and is more than just a box I check in a survey. It’s a way of life that manifests itself on a daily basis, it’s a precious legacy that I wish to pass on to and enrich my children with. When you treat Judaism like a hobby, when you send your kids to a non-Jewish day school, when you live your life in a way that is virtually indistinguishable from the lives led by your non-Jewish neighbors, colleagues and friends, you are effectively saying that Jewish continuity is not a priority in your life. How could anyone think that a short tour of Israel was going to make a difference?

However, after some thought, I figured “Why not? There’s no downside to bringing young Jews to Israel” and I became a (reluctant) supporter. This support, which was shared by most of the organized Jewish community, proved to be of great help to the State of Israel. After the first slew of Birthright Israel trips in December of 1999, the first Intifada hit. But for the revenue generated by Birthright Israel (and ironically Christian Evangelical travelers), Israel’s tourist industry might have suffered irreparable losses.

But what of the continuity issue? The latest National Jewish Population Survey shows that the trends identified in 1990 have continued unabated. To be fair, Birthright Israel was not meant to generate immediate and dramatic results. However, a recent study conducted by the Cohen Center for Modern Jewish Studies at Brandeis University shows that Birthright Israel alumni identify more strongly with Israel and the Jewish community than do their peers who applied but did not go on the program.

Bravo! Yet that inner cynic keeps popping up, especially when I first interact with my Birthright chanichim. For instance, on my last trip, I had to fight to remain composed during a conversation where one of my kids asked me, “Is there any significance to this Masada place that we’re climbing?” Another participant then suggested, “Isn’t that the place where God gave Moses the Ten Commandments?” I politely enlightened them as to the historical importance to the Jewish people of the events that transpired at Masada, but this not uncommon lack of Jewish literacy always amazes me and makes me despair at the future of North American Jewry.

Don’t get me wrong. These kids are proud Jews. When asked, they invariably proclaim their pride in their Jewish identity. But you ought to see the dumbfounded looks I get when I ask them what it is specifically that distinguishes them from a typical non-Jew of the same socio-economic class. Talk about an “Aha!” moment.

And yet, I persist. I write this a day before another group of young Jews is going to land at Ben Gurion Airport on a Birthright trip. Why do I persist? Well, I guess because on a certain level, Birthright Israel makes sense. For ten days I am privileged to share with my chanichim a vision of Judaism wherein Israel plays a central role. Many of them will enjoy their first Shabbat experience at the Western Wall and will be duly moved by it. Many tears will be shed at Yad Vashem, and no matter how many times I go there, I will always be moved by how deeply these kids manifest a strong sense of empathy for their fellow Jews lost forever in European crematoria and mass graves. All of my chanichim will be awed by the ancient sites of the land and amazed by the modern evolution of a state younger than most of their grandparents. They will meet Israeli soldiers no older than them who are entrusted with the burden of defending the country and they will see that these are not the heartless monsters often portrayed by the media or anti-Israel advocates on their campuses.

Afterwards these kids will always be grateful. The ten days we spend together will be an experience they will remember forever. Many of them will come back on long term programs or drag their families for a visit. Many of them will become more active in their communities back home. Despite my cynicism, I can’t help but feel that these are all good, if not great, things. At the end of each trip, after our wrap up sessions and farewells, I grudgingly tip my cap to the organizers of Birthright Israel. The cynic in me then retreats and, for a moment, I allow myself to be a bit optimistic about the future of my people.


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