Why a 123-year-old Jewish nonprofit won’t take sides in Gaza
In an example of the political flexibility now lacking in public life, President Dwight D. Eisenhower stepped outside the bounds of standard Republican sympathies in 1954 to honor a Jewish fraternal organization with deep historical ties to the labor movement and the Socialist Party. The occasion was the annual conference of the Workmen’s Circle. In a written message, the president praised the organization that has spent the past half century promoting and strengthening “our democratic ideals by helping immigrants adapt to their American environment.”
It was a concise assessment of an agenda that could be difficult to explain because the group’s work encompassed so many facets of the 20th century urban experience. Founded in 1900 on the Lower East Side, the Workmen’s Circle created branches across the country and fought all the various ills of industrialization: the exploitation of children in factories, punishing long hours, and unlivable rental conditions.
It would be difficult to overstate its influence on the American story. In addition to its activism, the organization provided medical care, life insurance, housing for the elderly, summer camps, education and funeral assistance to tens of thousands of members. It managed to do all this while deftly balancing the need for assimilation with the preservation of Yiddish identity.
The war in Gaza has brought something of an existential reckoning for a community whose work has virtually nothing to do with Israel. In more recent years, the organization — now known as the Workers Circle — has fought for fairly mainstream causes like a $15-an-hour minimum wage and an end to voter suppression. The country has operated on the steadfast principle that the immigrants it was created to serve were often fleeing authoritarian governments and that combating threats to democracy in this country should remain central to its mission.
The group was honored during the annual benefit held Monday night in Tribeca Black voters matter. The Workers Circle has never been driven by religious zeal (in its early days it kept its schools open on Yom Kippur), tribalism, or even more modest expressions of self-interest.
If anything, it recognized that its early successes emerged from a commitment to defusing the ethnic rivalries that characterized the lives of the poor and working class in turn-of-the-century New York and to building strength through coalitions. Today, 123 years later, it has to operate in a world in which pluralism does not necessarily function well.
While neutrality has become unpopular within academic and business communities, it seems even less tenable for institutions associated with Jewish life—including secular institutions that operate at arm’s length from foreign policy interests.
“There’s a lot of pressure to make statements,” Workers Circle CEO Ann Toback said recently, “and I’m not a big fan of statements.” The organization issued a single statement on the war, issued on October 9, two days after Hamas’ terrorist attacks, condemning them but urging all parties to uphold international law and create a path forward for human rights and peace for Israelis and Palestinians. directly.”
The Workmen’s Circle supported the creation of Israel after the Holocaust, but turned away from Zionism from the start. It has long championed a two-state solution as the best path forward, but remains a nonpartisan nonprofit focused on what happens to the people who live here. “We have always focused on a domestic agenda. It’s not against anything,” said Mrs. Toback, whose great-grandfather was a member of the Workmen’s Circle. “This is our history.”
The current challenges are mainly related to fundraising. What was notable about the gala wasn’t who was there — the actor Jesse Eisenberg was — but who wasn’t there, particularly the major figures in the city’s charitable circles who so often contribute generously to Jewish causes. The event was largely funded by the United Federation of Teachers and Tito’s vodka.
Like other Jewish groups focused on social welfare, Ms. Toback said, the Workers Circle is in a precarious situation. “We’re all seeing donors wavering because they’re focusing their philanthropy on Israel and the needs that emerged from October 7, and we’re struggling.” This year’s numbers are expected to be significantly lower than in the past. the past, but what worries her is not only the money, but also the engagement. “We are seeing a change,” she said.
“We’re telling people that we’re living in a moment where American democracy is in danger and October 7th is tragic and still captures so much of our attention, but even while that’s going on there are ongoing attacks on democracy here . Mrs. Toback continued. “We never seem to have the luxury of focusing on one thing.”
At a time when labor is on the rise again, the Workers Circle offers a long, instructive history on the value of focusing on many things. In the early 20th century, it joined Irish and Italian groups to fight for safer working conditions, campaigned to guarantee women’s suffrage and opened treatment centers for people suffering from tuberculosis. In 1947, it raised more than $100,000 to acquire a French castle and convert it into an orphanage. In the 1960s, members threw themselves into the civil rights movement, where they found an ally in Bayard Rustin.
They saw little value in locking down their own ambitions. What has inspired Ms. Toback is a Yiddish term, “doykayt,” that underlies some of these philosophies. Roughly speaking, it translates to ‘hereness’.