Like many people, I first heard about what happened at the recent Smol Emuni (SE) US conference through an article in The Forward. That piece sparked something of a firestorm, largely because of the way it described the treatment of Rav Shaul Berman after his comments about the Jewish connection to the Land of Israel.

After that, I read a much more comprehensive article in Haaretz. It became clear to me that—with all due respect to The Forward—the issue of Rav Berman had been blown out of proportion. There is something important about how SE leadership responded to Rav Berman, but not for the reasons people are focusing on. I listened to the speech myself and didn’t hear any booing. Even if someone did shout, focusing on that would be missing the main events by a country mile.

I decided to do the hard work and actually watch the YouTube recordings of both the morning and afternoon general sessions. I’ll say this upfront: the SE US participants come across as thoughtful, sincere people—the kind you’d want in your neighborhood. I have no personal issue with any of them.

The morning session revolved around a familiar framework in American discourse: who is powerful and who is powerless. Within that lens—and especially in light of the Gaza war—Israel is cast as the powerful (and therefore morally culpable) party, while the Palestinians are seen as weaker and thus “less culpable.” Israeli actions over the past 30 months (in Gaza, Lebanon, and Iran) were framed as a breakdown of international law and order, and so on.

There are many problems with this framework, but I want to focus on one fundamental flaw: it simply does not describe reality. There is no meaningful “powerful vs. powerless” dynamic here. The Palestinians are not powerless by any definition. They have agency, resources, and capacity—and October 7th is how that power was used.

That attack wasn’t spontaneous. It wasn’t an “explosion” or a reflexive response to occupation. It was the result of sustained planning by a large network of intelligent, determined, and deeply immoral, evil actors, backed by powerful, evil regional forces. It was calculated, strategic violence. The fact that it wasn’t even worse is not due to a lack of capability or power.

Nor was October 7th an isolated incident. The use of power for destruction rather than construction has been a recurring pattern in the Palestinian national movement—from the Mufti, to the PLO, to Hamas since it took control. Power, again and again, has been used to destroy rather than to build.

The standard response to my critique would be predictable: “Of course we recognize that Hamas, Hezbollah, and elements in Iran are immoral actors. We’re not blind. But the conversation here is about Israel.”

But if that’s the case, then the “powerful vs. powerless” framework needs to be dropped. That’s not the real issue. Making the question of power vs powerless the central problem turn the entire conversation into a farce.

The real issue is how to deal with evil. Within that discussion, there is plenty of room to critique Israeli policy. Personally, I’m horrified by major aspects of government policy and by some of the clowns, excuse me, ministers shaping it. What’s happening in certain outposts is a disgrace, and has been for decades. These issues absolutely deserve scrutiny.

But there’s a flip side to the obsession with Israeli power: a near-total disregard for what Palestinians themselves say and do. The following example from the conference is a perfect illustration.

In the afternoon session, a panel—three Jews and one Palestinian—was asked a simple but difficult question: what mistakes has your side made? Listening to the Jewish participants, it felt like Kol Nidre. They spoke candidly and at length about Israel’s moral failings. That’s fair.

The Palestinian participant, however, responded by discussing Ari Shavit’s writing and how disturbing she found his perspective.

At that point, I had to laugh—not because it was funny, but because I’ve seen this pattern so many times. I’ve been part of these conversations, both in person and online, since the Oslo years. The question is simple: are you willing to take responsibility for your side’s actions? And the Palestinian answer, time after time, is: no.

To avoid misunderstanding: yes, Jews also sometimes deflect responsibility and blame Palestinians. Absolutely. But here, a direct question was asked—and it was not answered. Yes, this woman very quickly added  “of course we made mistakes” after her discourse on Shavit. But saying those five words without specifying or owning them is not accountability; it’s avoidance.

What bothered me most wasn’t the answer. I have heard that answer many times. What bothered me was the lack of response. The same organizers who felt compelled to publicly distance themselves from Rav Berman’s remarks remained completely silent when a Palestinian speaker effectively placed all blame on Israel. That is what that speaker did. Why couldn’t anyone ask “Can you specify a few mistakes?” or even “Can you focus on Palestinian actions in your answer”?

This silence doesn’t seem to be a one-off. At a previous conference in March 2025, a Palestinian participant denied that Jews constitute a people. Was there any pushback? Of course not.

Then there’s Amira Hass. Why invite her to a conference centered on a faith-based approach to the conflict? She made it clear from her very first sentence that she does not identify with that world at all. Frankly, she wouldn’t be invited to the Israeli Smol Emuni conferences—why bring her to the American one? I could understand inviting someone like Peter Beinart, but an avowed atheist? I don’t get it.

In truth, it’s not that surprising. SE US feels far more Smol (leftist) than Emuni (faith-based). The Israeli Smol Emuni includes many people who have served in Gaza and are deeply embedded in the Israeli reality. There’s very little overlap between the two groups. The Israeli version is trying—on its own terms—to build a strong Jewish, democratic, Zionist state. The American version? That goal feels far less central, if it exists at all.

One final point—the elephant in the conference room. Jews living in the United States have very limited, if any, ability to influence Israeli policy at a national level. Specific small projects, yes, but national policy? SE US may aspire to shape outcomes in Israel, but that’s not how things work.

There was a time when Diaspora Jewry had significant, even overwhelming, influence over the Jewish communities in Israel. That ended on May 15, 1948. Today, American Jews decide how they relate to Israel—but not what Israel does. Real influence requires living here, voting here, and serving here.

A hundred more conferences won’t change that reality.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)