By Ariel Fogelman, Director of URJ’s Yallah! Israel
In Israel, Thanksgiving is a ghost holiday, something you only see in movies. For me, growing up in the old city of Jerusalem, it would have been another forgotten date on the Gregorian calendar. Instead, every year my father would bring it roaring to life in an annual Jerusalemite anomaly. My dad would order a massive turkey in advance, not something you would find in your local supermarket.
In the city where the word “Hallelujah” (Praise God in Hebrew) was coined by King David, he celebrated the American tradition of saying Hallelujah to America with a proper English “Thanksgiving”. His perspective of the United States may have been different than the perspective of many today, but his thoughts, shared around a crowded table of guests, remain acutely relevant.
He would launch into a passionate, annual defense of why we, as human beings, should be grateful for the American values of liberty to all. He saw the U.S. as the main world force that dismantled colonialism after World War I and supported the idea of real democracy.
The enormous turkey he sourced was the centerpiece of a far greater discussion: a celebration of principles. The core American values —that are still not taken for granted in our world today— are shared Jewish, Israeli, and universal truths: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. Freedom of religion, speech, press, assembly, and petition of the Government.”
These values from the American Declaration of Independence and Constitution resonate with the values of Israel’s founding document, The Declaration of Independence, and with Israel’s Law of Education. Both countries are based on similar values, and both are still struggling for the vision that these values represent.
As a kid, I didn’t fully understand what he was doing. I mostly remember the size of the turkey, the chaos of too many people in our living room, and the oddity of celebrating a holiday none of my friends cared about.
But for him, the gratitude was also specific and Israeli. He always reminded us that Thanksgiving and appreciation of the good are Jewish values too. Just eleven minutes after David Ben Gurion read the Declaration of Independence, Harry Truman, the president of the United States, was the first to recognize the newborn state. Amidst the cheers in Tel Aviv, this recognition provided a crucial sense of international legitimacy and hope.
Israel’s history would not be the same without this deep historical friendship. From financial and military support to the great progress towards peace—including agreements with Egypt, Jordan, and the United Arab Emirates, all made with the strong support of the presidents of the United States of America as well as many attempts to reach peace between Israelis and Palestinians.
As I got older —and especially as my professional life led me into deep partnership with liberal and Reform Jews from across the world— I began to understand what Thanksgiving meant to him. It wasn’t only nostalgia. It wasn’t about Plymouth Rock or early American history. For my father, Thanksgiving was a yearly moment to remind us that gratitude is a Jewish value, and that our family story —like so many Jewish stories— was shaped by movements across borders, by places we loved even from far away, and by the unexpected ways those places shaped our identity.
He spoke about America, he believed in the America of democracy, liberty, and the idea that all people deserve freedom. Even if his relationship with those ideals was complicated, he believed deeply in expressing gratitude for them.
I didn’t appreciate much of this as a child. I wanted nothing more than to be a real Israeli “Sabra”. Yet somehow, I learned that identity doesn’t come in one flavor. It grows from the stories our parents choose to share, the moments they choose to mark, and the traditions they insist on carrying —even in unlikely places like the Old City of Jerusalem.
So this year, wherever you are and whatever your Thanksgiving table looks like, I hope you take a moment to celebrate the beautiful tapestry of Jewish life that spans continents—and to feel proud that your children are part of a global Jewish story that continues to grow, deepen, and connect.
From our Yallah! Israel family to yours,
Happy Thanksgiving
