We begin Yom Kippur by grappling with the betrayal of our vows. For good reason. No matter how hard we try to convince ourselves that we live blameless lives, we betray our principles and our people in ways large and small.

Such is the case every year. But this year the betrayal is of historic proportions. Although I never thought I would live to see it, there is a clear deterioration in the American Jewish community’s support for Israel. How serious a betrayal is this? Refusal to support Zionism in the first half of the 20th century is arguably the most catastrophic mistake in Jewish history. Failure to support Israel today would be a close second, with the potential to lead to similarly catastrophic consequences.

There are numerous explanations for the American Jewish betrayal. The first is the occupation, the treatment of the Palestinians, the lopsided military conflict in Gaza, etc. The second is the current Netanyahu government, reliant as it is on bigoted right wing loonies and theocratic ultra-orthodox parties. But on closer examination, these explanations fall flat. Without taking a particular political stance, there is ample room to protest, legitimately, how the conflict with the Palestinians is being handled; and ample room as well to protest the government make-up and policies. Indeed, half of Israel has been in the streets for months protesting all of this, and I would probably be there myself.

But something more fundamental is happening that definitely crosses the line. The objection some American Jews—a rising number of American Jews—have is not to this or that policy. The objection is to the basic nature of the state of Israel itself. And at the core of that challenge is a limited and flawed understanding of the nature of sovereignty. As Americans, we have a very specific understanding of sovereignty, which not only differs from the Israeli understanding, but differs as well from much of the western world.

The American Declaration of Independence was literally a revolutionary document, a document that changed the world. It begins, “When in the course of human events…” and goes on to describe political issues and political solutions. From the very start, the target audience was “humanity.” America was a young country, with only tenuous roots on this continent. It became independent not to satisfy “the American people”—there were no “Americans” to speak of—but to protect those who felt it was self-evident that “all men are created equal.”  It was a sentiment repeated a hundred years later in Emma Lazarus’ poem on the Statue of Liberty: “Give us your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.” Ours is a country that celebrates its independence on the Fourth of July by holding citizenship naturalization ceremonies, welcoming new Americans from all over the world, at places like the Museum of the American Revolution in Philadelphia, at Thomas Jefferson’s home Monticello in Virginia, and, my personal favorite, at the Field of Dreams Ball Field in Dyersville Iowa. In so many ways the American experiment has succeeded admirably. As Edwin Feuler of the Heritage Foundation said, America is the only country with the word “dream” attached.

Having said that, it’s worth pointing out that the gap between ideal and real is massive. For a country that was intended from the very beginning to embrace all of humanity, we have a pretty poor track record regarding black people, who were constitutionally regarded as 3/5th human, native Americans who were subjected to mass murder verging on genocide, women who were completely disenfranchised for most of our history and whose rights even to control their own bodies are being diminished as we speak, immigrants of all origins and races who were mistreated in any number of ways, and, of course, Jews.

And yet in spite of it all we are still, rightfully, proud to be Americans.

As Rabbi Daniel Gordis has pointed out in a series of brilliant articles, when it comes to Israel we are talking about a state whose origins are as different from America as night and day. Americans were a people with no history. Jews were a people with the longest history on the planet. Americans were rebelling against an oppressive government. Jews were grappling with millennial anti-Semitism that had recently led to the gates and gas chambers of Auschwitz. Americans were opening a new chapter in human affairs, putting into effect previously unknown Enlightenment concepts like liberty and freedom. Jews were trying to fulfill a destiny referenced in the Bible, the cultural bedrock of the Western world. When the Israeli Declaration was first read, everyone in attendance recited shehechiyanu. Like on Chanukah when we light candles and remember the miracle; like on Pesach when we remember the miracle of the Exodus. In 1948, too, it was felt that G-d had brought us to this time. And Lord knows, it was a long time coming.

The new Jewish state had an entirely different purpose than the American state. It was two-fold. The State of Israel was on the one hand a rescue mission to save Jews from oppression and genocide; and on the other hand a spiritual mission to find a place that would finally allow the creative genius of the Jewish people to flourish. The Declaration says, with reference to the Jewish people, “Here their spiritual, religious and political identity was shaped. Here they first attained to statehood, created cultural values of national and universal significance and gave to the world the eternal Book of Books.” And in order to continue that project of creating cultural values of national and universal significance, the people needed “to be masters of their own fate, like all other nations, in their own sovereign State.”

As America is linked to a dream, Israel is linked to a hope, Hatikvah. And that hope has in many ways been admirably fulfilled. The rescue mission has been an astounding success, saving millions upon millions of Jews from oppression, persecution and worse. And the creativity of the Jewish people has been nurtured in ways few thought possible. Israel ranks in the top 10 in the world in dozens of fields including power, innovation, dynamism, political influence and military strength, women’s safety, and, perhaps most important, happiness. And needless to say, in Israel there has been an absolute explosion of Jewish art, literature, philosophy, dance, and so forth.

If America contributes to humanity by being open to all, Israel contributes to humanity by gathering in our exiles and allowing the Jewish people to blossom and flourish.

Here, too we must point out the gap between ideal and real. The festering conflict with the Palestinians continuously leads to behavior—human shields, land expropriation, settler violence—that is a betrayal of our biblical and prophetic values.  And the current government is, as mentioned, problematic in the extreme. But why is it that the real American failures both past and present, as disappointing and dispiriting as they are, do not lead to wholesale rejection of America, while Israel, whose failures are trivial in comparison, is held to a more demanding standard? And remember, that question is asked when there is a massive disparity between America, which we can rest assured is not going anywhere, and Israel, which is acutely aware of author Milan Kundera’s insight: “A small nation is one whose very existence may be put into question; a small nation can disappear and it knows it.”

The real issue here is tension around Israel being specifically a Jewish state. Although Israel was always intended to be a Jewish State—the UN Partition Plan in 1947 mentions the words Jewish State dozens of times—with increasing frequency and discomfort we have been asking, “How could you have a Jewish state that is not inherently discriminatory to non-Jews?” That, my friends, is a very American question. The short answer is: the same way you can have a Swedish, or German, or French state without it being inherently discriminatory. All states have a moral responsibility to be humane; not all states are obligated to be a haven for “humanity” in general, with no ethnic preference. Turks in Germany have a right to vote. They don’t have a right to make Germany Turkey. Arabs in France have a right to vote. They don’t have a right to turn Paris into Tangiers. Somali refugees have a right to vote in Sweden. They don’t have a right to turn Stockholm into Mogadishu. And whenever they try, the European reaction is visceral and often vicious. We have seen this in virtually every country in Europe, including the very most liberal, when their national ethnicity is challenged. We are pained and shamed, for good reason, when Ben-Gvir controls 5% of the Knesset. In liberal bastion Sweden, the far right controls 20% of the Riksdag. In France, home of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, Marine LePen’s party controls 35% of the Assemblee Nationale. And I remind you that Arabs have never stated their intention to destroy France.

So why are we prepared to accept that Sweden can be Swedish, and France can be French, and Germany, which you may remember has not had a stellar record as far as human rights are concerned, can be German, but Israel can’t be Jewish? If you think there is a problem with a Jewish state, the problem is not with the state, but with your perception of Jews and the rights of Jews. And therein lies the real tragedy, the broken vow. Half of American Jews either don’t know about Zionism or are neutral toward it. 36% of Democrats say they have a negative impression of Zionism. Only 20% positive. 20% positive about a country that has saved millions of Jewish lives? Seriously?

Americans do not study the Declaration of Independence because America is perfect. We study the Declaration of Independence because of the strength and soundness of its principles—principles that stand above and ultimately help to rectify American life. (Rogachevsky and Zigler). That is how we form a more perfect union, as the Constitution urges. How shameful it is that are not prepared to offer the same grace to our brothers and sisters in Israel. That instead of working and praying to help Israel while it seeks to rectify itself, we give aid and comfort to the enemies of Israel who—far from representing pristine democratic values—are among the most reactionary forces on the planet.

This is indeed shameful, and profoundly unjust.

And tonight, as we stand before the beit din shel maalah, the heavenly court, we have an opportunity to grapple with our shame and injustice. We seek forgiveness for our imperfections. Let us forgive the State of Israel for her imperfections. We seek a better path for our future. Let us allow the State of Israel to seek her better path. And, finally, we seek life, and another chance to make right that which we have not. Let us seek life for Israel as well.

The Kol Nidrei declaration concludes with a prayer for forgiveness. Listen carefully to the words:

V’nislach lchol adat bnai yisrael v’lager hagar betocham ki lchol haam bishgagah.

“May forgiveness be granted to the whole congregation of the children of Israel, and to the stranger who lives in their midst, for all the sins of the people have been unintentional.”

Slach na laavon haam hazeh k’godel chasdecha v’chaasher nasata l’am haze mimitzrayim v’ad henah.

“In your great mercy, forgive the sin of this people, as You have always forgiven this people from the days of Egypt until now.”

And let us pray that G-d responds, for us and for all of Israel,

Vayomer ad-nai salachti kidvarecha

“And G-d said, I have pardoned them, as you asked.”

Ken yehi ratzon.