For many Christians watching the political landscape, one question has become increasingly difficult to understand: How can so many American Jews support politicians who openly advocate policies that would weaken Israel, restrict U.S. support, or amplify narratives many Israelis see as fundamentally hostile to their nation's existence?
A recent AP-NORC survey brought that tension into sharp focus. It found that New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani--an outspoken critic of Israel who has refused to explicitly condemn the slogan "globalize the intifada"--received a more favorable rating among American Jewish respondents than Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.
At first glance, the numbers seem almost impossible to reconcile.
But the answer may reveal something much larger than Israeli politics. It exposes the growing divide between religious identity and religious conviction--a phenomenon that Christians themselves know all too well.
The first mistake is assuming "American Jews" represent one unified religious community. They do not.
Today's American Jewish population includes Orthodox Jews, Conservative Jews, Reform Jews, secular Jews, cultural Jews, agnostic Jews, atheist Jews, and many who identify primarily through family heritage rather than active religious belief.
The AP-NORC survey illustrates this clearly. Religious Jews are dramatically more likely than secular Jews to feel emotionally attached to Israel and to consider supporting Israel an important part of their Jewish identity. Among secular Jews, emotional attachment to Israel falls sharply, and support for Israel is much less likely to be viewed as central to their identity.
That distinction matters.
Being born Jewish does not necessarily mean one's worldview is shaped by Judaism's religious teachings any more than being born into a Christian family guarantees biblical beliefs.
America has millions of people who still check "Christian" on surveys while rejecting core biblical doctrines regarding sexuality, marriage, the authority of Scripture, miracles, or even belief in God.
The same phenomenon exists within Judaism.
For many secular American Jews, Jewishness functions primarily as an ethnic or cultural identity rather than a theological one. Their political beliefs are often formed far more by progressive academic culture, media, and party affiliation than by the Hebrew Scriptures or traditional Jewish teaching.
That helps explain another finding from the survey.
While many respondents criticized Netanyahu personally, broad support for Israel's legitimacy remained considerably stronger than support for the Israeli prime minister himself. Likewise, opinions often tracked political identity, with Democratic-leaning respondents viewing Netanyahu far less favorably than Republican-leaning respondents.
In other words, much of the divide may be political before it is theological.
Yet politics alone cannot explain everything.
For those who take the Hebrew Bible seriously, God's covenant with Abraham occupies a foundational place in Jewish history. The promises concerning the land of Israel run throughout Genesis, the prophets, and Israel's national story.
That does not settle every debate about modern government policies or military decisions. Faithful Jews--and Christians--can disagree over particular leaders, strategies, or diplomatic choices.
But denying Israel's right to exist as the Jewish homeland is a much more fundamental question than criticizing a particular prime minister.
This is where many observers struggle to understand support for politicians whose positions extend well beyond criticism of Netanyahu and include opposition to Zionism itself or calls to reduce American support for Israel.
Supporters of these politicians often argue they are defending Palestinian human rights, opposing specific military actions, or objecting to particular Israeli governments--not rejecting Israel's existence.
Critics respond that some slogans and policy positions have become intertwined with movements that question Israel's legitimacy altogether and normalize rhetoric that many Jewish organizations view as threatening or antisemitic. Those disagreements have produced painful divisions within Jewish families, synagogues, and communities across America. The AP-NORC survey found many American Jews have argued with relatives or even stopped speaking to others because of disagreements over Israel.
Perhaps the better comparison is not between Jews and Christians, but within both communities.
Christian churches today wrestle with denominations that openly affirm beliefs many conservative Christians believe contradict Scripture. Progressive churches often reinterpret long-held biblical teachings through the lens of modern culture.
Many observant Jews would argue something similar has happened within segments of American Judaism, where progressive political values increasingly shape religious interpretation rather than the other way around.
This is not unique to religion.
Across Western society, political ideology increasingly functions like a comprehensive belief system, influencing views on morality, history, identity, justice, and even sacred texts.
When politics becomes the highest authority, religious tradition often becomes secondary.
The irony is that the same survey showing deep disagreement over Israel also found widespread concern about rising antisemitism in America. Large majorities believe antisemitism has worsened since October 7, and many report feeling less safe living openly as Jews.
Those realities exist alongside intense internal disagreement over Israel's government, the Gaza war, Zionism, and American foreign policy.
The lesson extends beyond the Jewish community.
Whether Christian or Jewish, every generation faces the same question: Which ultimately shapes our thinking--our sacred texts or the surrounding culture?
History suggests that whenever culture becomes the final authority, religious identity often survives while religious conviction steadily fades.
The divisions now visible among American Jews over Israel are not simply about Netanyahu, Gaza, or one New York mayor. They reflect a broader struggle over whether faith should shape politics--or whether politics will increasingly reshape faith.