Next Year in Jerusalem: Israelis in America, Temporarily

An Israeli in New York walks into an elevator and overhears a couple of Israelis speaking Hebrew. “Yordim?” he asks. “Not at all,” they quickly reply, “We are here temporarily.”

Like many immigrants, Israelis come to the United States to make a better life for themselves. They come for the job prospects, educational opportunities, and a lifestyle not dominated by the harsh realities of a never-ending war. They also come to escape hardships such as religious and sexual exclusion, broken families, and interpersonal conflicts.

It is hard to say how many Israelis are actually living in the United States. One estimate has it at around 130,000, another at 350,000, still a third at 600,000. While in comparison to other immigrant communities these numbers may not seem significant, for a country the size of Israel, the numbers are staggering.

Much to Israel’s chagrin, the people who are leaving the country are the young and educated: a phenomenon known as “brain drain.” Contrary to occupational stereotypes that associate Israelis with manual labor (e.g. Moishe’s Movers), by and large the Israelis who come to live in the United States are doctors, engineers, professors, students, and business-people (e.g. high-tech field).

However, despite a high standard of living, one of the unique, if not comical, aspects of Israelis living in the United States is that regardless of the number of years they have resided there, most believe that they will one day return. Israelis, in other words, constantly sit on their suitcases.

A sociological study of Israelis living in New York found that 55% (citizens and non-citizens) said that it was important for them to return to Israel. Given that most of the subjects interviewed have been living in New York for 5 to 12 years, their desire to return seems inauthentic.

One explanation given is that by saying that they are planning to return, Israelis assuage their sense of guilt for leaving home. “My way of dealing with the guilt was not only to imagine that my family and I will one day return,” Dr. Efrat Bar-Lev, an Israeli OBGYN who has been living in the US for the past seven years, explains, “but I used to also search for and buy electrical appliances that can work both in Israel and in the US. I still do.”

For a long time, Jews who immigrated out of Israel were viewed in a negative light. By leaving Israel, they physically rejected and negated what the Jewish state stood for—an ingathering of exiles. Given that Israelas a democracy could not bar its citizens from leaving, its only tool was to bludgeon their Zionist superego with guilt.

The stigmatization was evident in the language itself. The very Hebrew word for the people who left the country is “yordim” —literally, those who descend or go down. This stood in stark contrast with “olim”—literally those who ascend or go up. In 1976, Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin famously described yordim as “leftover weaklings” and “lowliest of parasites.” Rabin later retracted his statement, but for a long time afterwards, the notion stuck in the collective consciousness of most Israelis.

In recent years, the Israeli government has taken a different and softer approach to the phenomenon ofyordim. Instead of shaming them into returning, the government has attempted to entice (some would say bribe) them back.

The Ministry of Absorption, for example, has recently launched project “Coming Home,” which seeks to reward Israelis for returning to Israel. The rewards include: tax breaks, employment, and small business loans. In addition, the private organization Nefesh B’Nefesh is offering Jewish doctors (MDs) $60,000 for moving back to the country.

In his support of such initiatives, Prime Minster Olmert, who himself has two children living in the States, has commented, “Every Israeli, even if he lives abroad, is Israeli at heart and knows that his home is here. I call on all Israelis to return home.”

But such calls will most likely fall on deaf ears. The truth of the matter is that Israelis today feel snug and comfortable living in the States. Yes, there is some guilt. And yes, they identify as Israelis before Americans. But life is good.

Moreover, whereas in the past many Israelis “broke” because they missed the smell, taste, and feel of home, today they are creating little enclaves of home—mini-Israels across the U.S. In addition, technology has made it cheaper and easier for people to communicate with friends and family abroad, thus further reducing the distance and difficulty of living away from home.

“The one thing I used to really miss was the food and the culture,” says Yaniv Segev, a 35-year-old Israeli musician who has been living in New York for the past 15 years. “Now, I go down to Saint Mark’s and eat atHummus Place, where I meet a bunch of friends from home. After, I cross the street and buy some Bamba, and maybe rent an Israeli film from Holyland Market. My little Israel keeps me connected and less lonely.”

Barring a major catastrophe (or miracle) in Israel, the future promises to bring more of the same. As long as the economic, educational, and political status quo remain, young and educated Israelis are going to continue to enter the US in droves—building the good life on top of their guilt-assuaging suitcases.