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Elliot Cosgrove, PhD April 1, 2016

The most interesting thing to come out of last week’s AIPAC conference was not so much what was said in any one session, but what was said before and after the sessions. As in every election cycle, AIPAC issued invitations to all the leading presidential candidates. Those of us who attended duly noted that of the five candidates, it was ironically the only Jewish candidate who was a no-show at the annual pro-Israel affair. Far more hotly debated was the invitation to Donald Trump, whose scheduled appearance prompted many rabbis to threaten a walkout due to his stances on minorities, women, immigration, and other issues. Whatever his prescriptions for the US-Israel relationship may be, their thinking went, his positions on these issues marked him so out of sync with Jewish values that rabbinic leadership could not in good conscience countenance his remarks. Despite AIPAC’s fears and the press’s predictions of a contentious reception for Trump, what actually took place during his speech was just the opposite. As his remarks unfolded, the room warmed quickly to Trump’s rhetoric. With the Verizon Center in the palm of his hand, Trump saw the opportunity and disparaged the President to roaring applause and a standing ovation. No matter your political leanings, whether you were there or not, the most interesting response was what would come next. The following day, AIPAC’s Chair, Lillian Pinkus, shared a tearful and unprecedented public apology stating her regret and dismay at the lack of civility displayed that day. Pinkus castigated the attendees: “We say, unequivocally, that we do not countenance ad hominem attacks, and we take great offense to those that are levied against the President of the United States of America from our stage.” I have attended AIPAC conferences since college, and this is the first year that the discussions have been about style, not substance, about the behavior of attendees, not just the speakers. There was, it would seem, a breach in protocol, in the rules of acceptable discourse. Not in Middle America, in some distant corner of the American heartland unfamiliar to us – this happened in the heart of the Jewish community. A coarse word, a slap on the wrist - a shande brought about by a breakdown in civility within our community in the most public, most well-attended pocket of pro-Israel communal life.

Ours is not the first age to experience incivility. In a nation comprised of so many “dissimilar interests and inclinations,” a spirit of partisanship and heated political discourse has long been part and parcel of our nation’s identity and, arguably, the foundation stone of our democracy. Our ability to house dissent, to debate, to disagree – even passionately so – is a right and a freedom that is central to who we are. And yes, occasionally the messy business of partisan politics, competing agendas, and personal rivalries has devolved into name calling, mud-slinging and even – as we know from history books and Broadway shows – duels to the death. In recent history, we need only recall Lee Atwater’s scathing attacks on Michael Dukakis or the swift boat ads against Secretary of State John Kerry to know that character assassination did not begin in the present election cycle. No matter our highest hopes, the political arena has not historically provided the breeding ground for “the better angels of our nature.”

What does seem to be the case and what does seem to be different from times past is the confluence of factors – some new, some simply a hardening of pre-existing conditions – which has coarsened and polarized our public discourse. The result is an unwillingness to compromise that threatens our ability to work together on matters of common cause. More than any other organization, the Anti-Defamation League (ADL) has studied, monitored, and educated America on the topic of civil discourse and combatting hate and intolerance. Just prior to his retirement last year, ADL’s chief executive, Abraham Foxman, penned a fascinating piece on the conditions that have brought about our present uncivil state of affairs.

First and foremost, Foxman argues, is the new dynamic brought about by the Internet and social media. Although we might have hoped that the proliferation of information would have produced a more egalitarian, truthful, and respectful discourse – a sort of “sunlight is the best disinfectant” theory of media – the Internet, unfortunately, has had just the opposite effect. Broadcasting has given way to “narrowcasting.” One can now choose only the channels and websites that echo one’s current views and never undertake that cumbersome task of engaging with ideas contrary to one’s own. This closing of the American mind is exacerbated because our new forms of media have done away with the checks and balances of traditional journalism. As Zeynep Tufekci wrote in the New York Times this week, there are no fact checkers in the “Twittersphere” of presidential candidates. Falsehoods are shared and spread without any gatekeepers. In past generations, Tufekci explains, there were boundaries on what would or could be discussed publicly – something called the “Overton window” – the range of politically acceptable conversations. Today, the screeds of the extremes, the conspiracy theories of the deeply paranoid, and the partial truths and full-fledged lies of the fear-mongering are spewed, posted, and shared without any reprisals or repercussions.

Hand-in-hand with this new discourse, Foxman explains, have been other factors that polarize our leaders and governing institutions. A process of “residential sorting” has emerged whereby conservatives and liberals have consolidated into different geographic areas. Congressional districts have been redesigned and redrawn in a manner that disincentivizes compromise. It is, after all, the candidates with a broad range of constituents who are more inclined to seek common ground and consensus, not the ones – increasing in number – who need only appeal to an ideological base and uniform constituency. Finally, Foxman writes, there is the emergence of vast sums of money to support specific special interests. Donors who, more often than not, passionately hew to the ideological extremes have outsized influence, and they often prove to be, in the words of Richard Haass, “merciless in their treatment of any politician who departs from their particular orthodox.” (Politico, December 14, 2010)

The combination of all these factors – and undoubtedly others as well – has brought about the conditions of our present discourse. It is a state of affairs that is not unique to the United States. Be it the failure of government in Greece, the demise of the British Labor party, the populist politics of Poland and Hungary, or the political climate of the State of Israel, one need not look far to see the effects of our age. That this week Prime Minister Netanyahu shamefully backed away from his commitment to religious pluralism due to the pressures of the religious right is but the most recent example of the cratering of Israel’s political center. Here in America, there is a discourse of grievance and blame whereby the shortcomings of our country are countered not with creative solutions and forward-thinking initiatives but by a bitter game of “who’s to blame?” The far left points the finger at Wall Street; the far right blames immigrants, gay marriage, or those who would take guns away. Each side holds its views fiercely, and neither side is prompted to compromise or sacrifice. Each side talks past each other and sadly, the ills of country and world are left unaddressed.

In just a few weeks, on April 19, each of us will have the opportunity to vote in the New York State primary. I am told that due to the 501c(3) status of this institution (not to mention my desire to remain gainfully employed), I cannot endorse any candidate. What I can do is urge you to vote and to get involved in the electoral process. By all accounts New York is not a slam dunk for any candidate, and we dare not sit this one out. It is incumbent upon us as New Yorkers and as a Jewish community to turn out in force on April 19. We need not look further than the hero of this week’s parashah – Aharon, Moses’s brother and High Priest – to see the leadership qualities of those deserving to be in high office. A person who, as Pirkei Avot teaches, is ohev shalom and rodef shalom, “a lover of peace and pursuer of peace.” A person whose leadership is built on a politics of responsibility, not blame. Leaders with energetic solutions, not demonizing slogans. Leaders who are seeking to build bridges, not walls. Most of all, in this era of incivility, our city, state, and nation should seek to elect individuals who love more than they hate; who unite, not divide; who live in dogged pursuit of a mended world; and who insist that, as our Torah reading teaches, it is the responsibility of leaders to enhance, not diminish, the divine presence in our shared humanity and world.

The Babylonian Talmud records a famous debate on leadership. One rabbi, Rabbi Yehuda Nesia, argues that the character of a generation reflects that of its leader. Other rabbis counter and say that the character of the leader reflects that of his or her generation. Either way, the point of text seems to be that that there is a symbiotic relationship between a generation and its leadership, or to put it another way: We will get the leaders we deserve.

The blessing and curse of the age in which we live is that there has been a flattening of discourse to the point that each of us bears the power and the opportunity to participate in and shape the debates of our time. We who seek and pursue peace – who are ready to engage with the counterclaims of others and to find common cause even with those with whom we disagree – must speak as loudly and as frequently as the ideologues at the fringes. We dare not give in to the political pornography of our time; we have an obligation to shape the moral discourse that we inhabit. An insistence on civility, a rhetoric of courtesy, and a willingness to compromise are values worth fighting for and defending. We are all stakeholders in the outcome, we will reap what we sow, and it will be our own efforts that will determine whether we get the leaders we deserve. Let us think ourselves deserving of the very best and act as such, work to bring about a world befitting our highest hopes for ourselves, our children and our grandchildren.