Exploring the Enduring Enigma: Why Do So Many American Jews Align with the Democratic Party?

The question of why a significant majority of American Jews consistently align with the Democratic Party has long puzzled observers, particularly non-Jewish friends and acquaintances, and even Jewish conservatives living within this prevailing political landscape. Batya Ungar-Sargon, a self-described "MAGA lefty" and prominent voice from NewsNation, offers a compelling, insider’s perspective in her new book, The Jews and the Left. Her work delves into the intricate historical, cultural, and ideological threads that have woven American Jewry into the fabric of the progressive movement, while also scrutinizing the contemporary challenges that test this long-standing allegiance.

The Foundational Pillars: Compassion, Justice, and the American Left

Ungar-Sargon posits that for many liberal Jews, the alignment with the Democratic Party is a natural extension of deeply embedded Jewish values. As she articulates, "Liberal Jews will tell you that being compassionate, welcoming the stranger, bestowing charity, and taking responsibility for the indigent are all values embedded in the Jewish tradition… and they are also held by Democrats." This philosophical congruence forms a crucial bedrock for the political identity of many Jewish Americans, suggesting a profound spiritual and ethical connection to progressive ideals.

The book meticulously traces this lopsided attachment to the Left through a series of pivotal moments in American history, highlighting Jewish active engagement in shaping the nation’s social and political landscape. From the burgeoning labor movement of the early 20th century to the transformative era of the New Deal, the global cataclysm of World War II, and the monumental Civil Rights Movement, Jewish Americans have consistently found common cause with left-leaning causes and political movements.

Early 20th Century: Labor, Immigration, and the Fight for Workers’ Rights

The late 19th and early 20th centuries saw a massive wave of Jewish immigration to the United States, primarily from Eastern Europe. These immigrants, often fleeing persecution and poverty, settled in urban centers and frequently found employment in grueling factory conditions, particularly in the garment industry. Ungar-Sargon compellingly recounts this period, emphasizing the tragedy of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire in 1911, an event that became a rallying cry for labor reform. The fire, which claimed the lives of 146 garment workers, mostly young immigrant women, many of whom were Jewish, starkly exposed the dangerous working conditions prevalent at the time.

Jewish labor leaders, organizers, and intellectuals played a disproportionately significant role in the burgeoning American labor movement. Figures like Samuel Gompers, founder of the American Federation of Labor, though not strictly from the garment industry, exemplified the broader Jewish involvement. Jewish immigrants, often steeped in socialist and labor Zionist ideologies from Europe, brought with them a fervent commitment to social justice and collective action. They helped establish unions suchg as the International Ladies’ Garment Workers’ Union (ILGWU) and the Amalgamated Clothing Workers of America (ACWA), fighting for better wages, shorter hours, and safer working environments. This active engagement in improving American laborers’ working conditions forged an early and powerful link between Jewish identity and the progressive agenda, inspiring many to align with the Democratic Party, which increasingly championed the rights of the working class. While the direct salience of labor issues might have diminished over time for many Jewish Americans as their socioeconomic status improved, the foundational memory and ideological imprint of this era persisted.

The New Deal Era: A Deepening of Loyalty

The Great Depression and the subsequent New Deal policies of President Franklin Delano Roosevelt (FDR) further cemented the political loyalty of many American Jews to the Democratic Party for decades to come. Roosevelt’s sweeping social and economic programs, designed to combat the devastating effects of the Depression, resonated deeply with a community that had often experienced economic vulnerability and appreciated governmental intervention aimed at social welfare. The New Deal’s emphasis on collective responsibility and aid for the disadvantaged aligned well with the aforementioned Jewish values of charity and communal support.

Historically, Jewish voters had already shown a leaning towards progressive politics, but the New Deal solidified this trend. In the 1932 presidential election, estimates suggest that over 80% of Jewish voters supported FDR, a pattern that largely continued throughout his four terms. This loyalty was not merely economic; it was also cultural. FDR’s administration was seen as more inclusive, bringing diverse voices into government, including a notable number of Jewish advisors and appointees, a stark contrast to previous administrations where antisemitism was more openly prevalent in certain circles.

A Contentious Chapter: FDR, the Holocaust, and Moral Dilemmas

However, Ungar-Sargon does not shy away from confronting one of the most contentious aspects of FDR’s presidency concerning Jewish history: his administration’s handling of European Jewry both before and during the Holocaust. While the New Deal fostered immense loyalty, the perceived inaction or hesitation to save Jews from Nazi persecution casts a long shadow. Ungar-Sargon acknowledges that "many blame President Franklin D. Roosevelt for hesitating" to save Jews. This period is fraught with moral complexities and continues to be debated by historians and ethicists.

Ungar-Sargon offers a nuanced, and arguably generous, defense of Roosevelt, explaining his public silence about Jews "during the early years of German persecution" as a strategic move to protect them from "even worse discrimination." She suggests that FDR believed that winning militarily was the most effective way to help European Jewry, implying that direct intervention or public advocacy might have exacerbated their plight or diverted crucial war efforts. The core of the dispute, then, is not whether Roosevelt’s priorities were elsewhere—they demonstrably were, focused on winning the war and domestic recovery—but rather whether his approach was wise, morally defensible, and ultimately effective given the scale of the atrocity.

Historical data reveals the grim realities of the era. The State Department, often accused of antisemitism and obstruction, implemented restrictive immigration policies. For instance, the Wagner-Rogers Bill in 1939, which sought to allow 20,000 Jewish children from Germany to enter the U.S., failed to pass Congress due to nativist and anti-immigrant sentiment. The fate of the SS St. Louis, a ship carrying over 900 Jewish refugees turned away from U.S. shores in 1939, remains a poignant symbol of the era’s restrictive policies and the administration’s reluctance to act.

Ungar-Sargon contrasts FDR’s cautious stance with the more proactive efforts of others within his orbit. She praises then-Missouri Senator Harry Truman, who participated in "a mass protest in Chicago in which he denounced the atrocities specifically against the Jews." Comparisons to women in Roosevelt’s inner circle are also unflattering to FDR. Eleanor Roosevelt "twice devoted her syndicated column to the persecution of the Jews," using her public platform to raise awareness and advocate. Labor Secretary Frances Perkins, a formidable figure, "took on the restrictionists in the State Department repeatedly — often bitterly. In one phone call, she blasted the department over its refusal to grant Jewish refugees visas." These individuals, by speaking out and acting, offer a striking counterpoint to the President’s more reserved approach. In hindsight, Roosevelt’s repeated inaction and unwillingness to meet with concerned Orthodox rabbis and Jewish leaders can be seen as a troubling precedent, a forerunner of contemporary criticisms where Democratic politicians offer reassuring words to Jewish voters that are not always backed by meaningful actions.

A crucial turning point, largely driven by external pressure, was the establishment of the War Refugee Board (WRB) in 1944. Ungar-Sargon highlights the efforts of "three zealous Christians" working at the Treasury Department—Josiah E. DuBois Jr., Randolph Paul, and John Pehle—who were disgusted to discover the State Department was delaying "funding to save" French and Romanian Jews. Their revelation led to a report exposing the obstruction, which ultimately fueled the creation of the WRB, an independent agency "to remove the work of saving Jews from the antisemitic State Department." These efforts, championed by figures like Henry Morgenthau Jr., the Jewish Secretary of the Treasury, helped save an estimated 200,000 lives, underscoring the vital role of determined individuals outside the direct presidential spotlight.

The Civil Rights Movement: A Shared Struggle for Equality

Following World War II, the Civil Rights Movement emerged as another powerful magnet for Jewish political affiliation with the Democratic Party. For many Jewish Americans, particularly those from the economically comfortable North, participation in the movement provided profound meaning. Ungar-Sargon notes that "the movement gave meaning to lives made sterile by that privilege." It offered a tangible way to live out the Jewish values of justice (tzedek) and repairing the world (tikkun olam).

Jewish Americans played a disproportionately significant role in the Civil Rights Movement, both at the leadership level and as grassroots activists. Jewish organizations like the Anti-Defamation League (ADL) and the American Jewish Committee (AJC) were vocal supporters, and individual rabbis, students, and professionals marched alongside African Americans in the South. The murder of civil rights workers James Chaney, Andrew Goodman, and Michael Schwerner in Mississippi in 1964, two of whom were Jewish, epitomized the shared sacrifice. For participating Jewish leaders, this activism "gave them a unique sense of self, a way of refusing to assimilate without committing to" traditional Jewish practice. It was an opportunity for Jews to help fellow Americans gain "the freedoms and equality Jews enjoyed here," fostering a deep sense of kinship with Black Americans that has largely persisted into the present day, despite some contemporary strains. This alliance reinforced the perception that the Democratic Party was the natural home for those committed to social equality and minority rights.

The Unsung Chapter: Women’s Liberation and Enduring Ties

Surprisingly, Ungar-Sargon’s book omits a dedicated chapter on the women’s liberation movement, a significant oversight given its profound impact on Jewish women and their continued alignment with the Democratic Party. As Joyce Antler, professor emerita at Brandeis University, documented on the Jewish Women’s Archive website, "In the early and mid-1960s, Jewish women — including Betty Friedan, Bella Abzug, Gloria Steinem, and Letty Cottin Pogrebin — helped to launch second-wave feminism. Many younger Jewish women pioneered radical feminism later in the decade. In some women’s liberation collectives, as many as two-thirds to three-quarters of members were Jewish."

The high level of Jewish involvement in feminism can be attributed to several factors: Jewish women often had higher rates of education, were less bound by traditional gender roles compared to some other religious groups, and were keenly aware of issues of discrimination and social justice. The movement’s goals of equal pay, reproductive rights, and combating sexism resonated deeply.

Perhaps no issue has more tightly bound Jewish women, and indeed many Jewish Americans, to the Democratic Party than legal access to abortion. The Public Religion Research Institute (PRRI) reported in 2023 that a striking 81% of American Jews "say that abortion should be legal in all or most cases." This figure is significantly higher than the national average and among the highest of any religious group in the United States, with only Unitarian Universalists (93%) demonstrating more uniform pro-choice sentiment. For many Jewish women, the fight for reproductive freedom is not merely a political stance but a fundamental issue of bodily autonomy and religious liberty, as Jewish law generally permits, and in some cases requires, abortion to save the mother’s life. The Republican Party’s increasingly restrictive stance on abortion rights has thus served as a powerful wedge, further solidifying Democratic allegiance.

The Six-Day War and Shifting Tides: Israel as a Litmus Test

Ungar-Sargon rightly identifies the 1967 Six-Day War as a pivotal turning point in the relationship between the American Left and Israel. Prior to 1967, Israel was often viewed as a "left-wing darling," a socialist experiment in nation-building, born out of the ashes of the Holocaust and admired for its kibbutzim and pioneering spirit. However, Israel’s stunning military victory, which resulted in the occupation of Palestinian territories, transformed its image in many left-wing circles, gradually turning it into a "left-wing villain" in the eyes of a growing segment of progressives.

Since 1967, institutions such as universities, legacy media, activist organizations, and other left-wing entities have increasingly adopted critical, and often hostile, stances toward Israel and its Jewish supporters. This shift has been fueled by the rise of post-colonial theory, intersectional analyses, and a growing identification with the Palestinian cause. The critique of Israeli policies, particularly concerning the occupation and settlements, has intensified to the point where, for some, anti-Zionism—defined by Ungar-Sargon as "Left-coded Jew-hatred"—has become a de facto litmus test for entry into certain progressive spaces.

Despite this growing alienation within parts of the Left, the majority of American Jews have largely remained Democrats. This presents a profound paradox: why do so many Jews stay, even as a core element of their identity—support for Israel—is increasingly challenged or condemned within their chosen political home?

Contemporary Challenges: Identity, Anti-Zionism, and Political Belonging

Ungar-Sargon explores the complex motivations behind this enduring loyalty. One significant factor she references is a pervasive, though often mistaken, belief among many Jewish Democrats that the Right is widely antisemitic. This perception, whether fully accurate or not, makes the prospect of "jumping ship" to the Republican Party deeply unappealing, despite the Republican Party’s more outwardly pro-Israel stance. The historical memory of European antisemitism, coupled with perceived instances of right-wing extremism in the U.S., contributes to this apprehension.

However, Ungar-Sargon delves deeper, offering a more nuanced sociological explanation for why Jewish Democrats remain rooted:
"To the urban cosmopolitans who define the culture of educated Americans, being a conservative or — God forbid — a Republican is and always has been repulsive. For liberal American Jews alienated from the religion of their forefathers, abandoning the Left would have been tantamount to abandoning their Jewishness. To be a Jew was to be a Democrat and a progressive, someone deeply invested in the paternalistic, government-mandated empathic redistribution of resources and emotions, even or perhaps especially when those redistributions came at the expense of your own community."

This powerful passage articulates the profound intertwining of political identity with cultural and social belonging for many secular or less religiously observant liberal Jews. For them, "Jewishness" has evolved beyond traditional religious practice to encompass a commitment to progressive social justice, making the Democratic Party not just a political choice but a core component of their self-identity. To depart from the Left would, in this framework, feel like abandoning a fundamental aspect of who they are, even if it means overlooking or rationalizing the increasing hostility towards Israel or occasional antisemitic expressions from within their own political camp.

This situation leads to a difficult reality: acknowledging that the relationship between Jewish Americans and a sizable chunk of the Democratic coalition has soured can be emotionally taxing. Further, abandoning an association that has been central to one’s identity for generations can be a painful process. Consequently, outsiders often wonder why Jewish Democrats persist in belonging to a "club that’s not particularly interested in keeping them as members," especially when the cost involves defending their deeply held connections to Israel. Recent polls have shown growing concern among Jewish Americans about antisemitism, with a notable percentage perceiving it to be increasing within both progressive and conservative circles, but with the added complication of anti-Zionism often being perceived as a veiled form of antisemitism on the left.

An American Love Letter: Celebrating Roots and Resilience

Despite these profound challenges, Ungar-Sargon’s book ultimately emerges as a "book-length love letter to America on its 250th birthday." Regardless of the future trajectory of Jews’ relationship with the Left or Right, her overarching message is for readers to understand and appreciate that Jews are an integral, foundational part of the American story.

Ungar-Sargon wants American Jews to remember how remarkably blessed they are to be Americans. While she acknowledges the resurgence of "Jew-hatred" that has "reared its ugly head" in contemporary society, her primary focus remains on the positive and historically unique aspects of Jewish life in the United States. Here, Jews boast nearly four centuries of deep roots, were considered "founding partners" in the nation’s development, and crucially, could enjoy religious freedom without "nullifying their Jewish identity." This ability to thrive, assimilate, and contribute while maintaining a distinct religious and cultural identity is, as Ungar-Sargon underscores, historically remarkable. It is a legacy worth celebrating, understanding, and actively fighting to preserve against all forms of prejudice and political pressures. Her work serves as a vital call to recognize this exceptional history and the enduring spirit of American Jewish resilience.

Melissa Langsam Braunstein (@slowhoneybee) is an independent writer in metropolitan Washington.