Smart Tzedakah
An answer to some existential questions of identity
Strategic giving and great philanthropy are not easy. While there are many different views and much literature devoted to the topic, here we summarize seven principles that serve us in developing our strategic approach and guide the way we work with others to give mindfully through Smart Tzedakah.
Next week, millions of Jews around the world will begin their Seder night with the words, “Let all who are hungry come and eat. Let all who are needy come and celebrate Passover.” This powerful call to reach out and help those less fortunate than ourselves comes just as we begin to recall the foundational story of our nation, highlighting the integral part that tzedaka holds in Jewish ethos and practice.
The Hebrew word tzedaka, however, is often mistranslated. It literally means “justice”, yet most translate it as “charity.” These are opposites, as charity suggests that we give despite the fact that the recipient is undeserving, while justice suggests that we give because the recipient is deserving. Clearly, the traditional idea of charity is not what is being described here, but rather a form of redistribution of wealth as a form of justice. Whereas one instinctively gives from an emotional place of compassionate kindness or mercy (chesed or rachamim in Hebrew), the underlying sentiment of this idea is to give with intelligence and discipline.
Maimonides, one of the greatest Jewish sages, famously outlined eight levels of tzedaka. Inherent in his methodology of grading the different levels is the fact that there are better and worse ways of giving. Three themes emerge as important factors:
• What we give
• How we give
• The impact of our giving
This approach pushes us to think through the best way we deploy our charitable resources to optimize the what, how and impact. It is for this reason, that we define our approach as Smart Tzedakah.
Giving can be great. But great giving is hard. Whether physically close by or distant, recipients often live in a different world from ours. Data on real needs and impact is often unavailable and lots of emotions influence the process (in fact, playing on these emotions is often the first strategy of fundraisers). While professional standards in the philanthropic sector are usually different to those of the corporate world, the challenges of
ego and competing interests are still a factor. Due diligence on recipients is also difficult and objective cross-sector analysis is lacking. Consequently, much giving is driven “bottom-up” in a more reactive and opportunist sense, rather than strategically decided upon “top-down” from the giver’s values and aspirations to affect meaningful change.
Many sophisticated philanthropists
and foundations have actively tried to overcome these obstacles as they professionalize their giving, however, in discussions with dozens of leaders, we found that they were always looking to upgrade in this space. For this reason, we have elaborated seven basic principles, which may not be revolutionary, but together help frame how we approach Smart Tzedakah: 1. Support strong leaders. Work with effective leaders who know the needs of the charity intimately. Be sure that the leaders of what you support are strong and passionate with a real track record and true expertise in the field.
2. Treat the cause, not just the symptoms. Focus on helping people sustain themselves, rather than just providing them with sustenance. Help people manage their budgets, rather than just paying for their debts.
3. Give as close to the final recipients as you can. Avoid chains of intermediaries in which each part takes a share of the funds before passing them on closer to the final recipients.
4. Look for leverage. Highlight organizations that mobilize many volunteers, since every dollar given enables the work of many volunteers, or those nonprofits which partner with the government or (confirmed) matching mechanisms to leverage their impact.
5. Check the efficiency of recipient organizations. Overhead is not always bad (e.g., a well-executed fundraising budget can catalyze exponential growth), but check key areas such as the highest salary levels and expense buckets to make sure they are justified.
6. Objectively measure the impact and value delivered for your investment. Ask for or create impact metrics (e.g., cost of helping one recipient; organizations percentage operating costs to amounts raised and distributed etc.) and compare it across other similar organizations.
7. Revisit and revitalize your strategy. Don’t be constrained by history, preconceived notions and relations. Take a clean sheet look every few years
The world was created in seven stages and we hope these seven principles add to the empowerment of others to recreate worlds. Ultimately, everyone should develop an approach that works for them, and having a considered framework is good practice for anyone who wants to engage in Smart Tzedakah. In the second part of this series, we will building upon this framework of principles and elaborate seven processes we found helpful when establishing a personal Smart Tzedakah system.
Ididn’t choose to be born in America. That choice was made for me by my four grandparents who fled pogroms in Ukraine a century ago. Two of them made the two-year journey carrying my infant uncle, and my father was born in Pittsburgh two years later.
My parents were proud Jewish activists, dad in the Conservative movement and mom in the Pioneer Women (today Naamat). They provided us children with the best Jewish education available in the city for Conservative Jews, from synagogue nursery school to afternoon and weekend Hebrew schools till high school graduation. We went to Hebrew-speaking summer camps.
Being the oldest, I was the first to visit Israel. This fateful encounter happened in 1968, in the summer of my freshman year. I’ve written at length about this transforming life experience in my novel. In just a few words, I’d say I felt the first direct, physical contact with the earth where my ancestors walked like a jolt of a mild electric shock, cognitively speaking.
It took several years for me to develop a working knowledge of Jewish history, working as in practicing. The understanding that evolved naturally culminated in the current period of Jewish history, what I’ll call the Zionist Era: from the 19th century BILU (an acronym of the early socialist Zionist agricultural-based aliyah movement) through the British Mandate and the War of Independence to Jewish sovereignty.
Being born in 1949 during the second year of Israel’s independence, meant that I was born in the first generation in 2,000 years of Jewish history in which a Jewish state existed. In other words, this was the first generation in a world with two major Jewish communities, one of which that is a sovereign state.
The idea emerged of a new Jewish categorical imperative: Any Jew born in the Diaspora after the creation of the Jewish state must answer the question “Who am I?” with regard to Jewish identity. This is a moral imperative.
The morality of it all is the obligation one has to be true to oneself. There is a logic to discovering your destiny, beginning with posing the question “Who am I?” The answer begins to emerge with the onset of teenage angst. This pondering tends to come to a head as college graduation approaches and the identity question shifts to “What am I going to do with my life?”
My thesis is that any Jew born after 1948 is faced with an existential question of identity: Do I accept my birth identity as given, or do I choose my own access to Jewish history?
Of course, American Jews can live rewarding Jewish lives as minority communities in the Diaspora. Half the world’s Jews do. But only the Jews who live in Israel know what it feels like to be part of the majority population. It took 2,000 years and we’re making up for lost time, but the work is not nearly done.
ANOTHER GENERATION of young Jews is standing at the crossroads. The choice is between being an American Jew by default, with the accent on American, or choosing to be part of the ongoing experiment of building the Jewish homeland, with all the challenges involved in mastering the language and making a living, perhaps even serving in the army. In trendier terms, with such a mixed background, you are called upon to make the choice: Who do I identify as?
My parents were prime examples of the conflicts
involved in making such a weighty, life-altering decision. My dad did not favor my moving to Israel and making aliyah. Instead, he wanted me to go to attend The Jewish Theological Seminary, become a Conservative rabbi and save the Jews of America. He was a diasporist, synagogue president, and sat on the board of The United Synagogue.
Mom, on the other hand, following her mother and mother-in-law’s example, was a dynamic Pioneer Woman (today Na’amat), raised money for Israel and proudly encouraged my aliyah. At the time of her death, she was pursuing her MA in speech therapy and studying Hebrew, with the goal of making aliyah and living near her grandchildren.
As always, Zionism means livnot ulehibanot: to participate in building of the Jewish state and, by so doing, be personally rebuilt. The rebuilding is creating a new identity; make the conversion from Diaspora Jew to Israeli Jew.
I am an American Israeli, proud of both heritages. But I use my American passport just to enter the US to visit and my Israeli passport to go home.
The building of the state founded in 1948 goes on, physically and spiritually. The physical transformation of the country in the 50+ years that I am living here is phenomenal and ongoing. Just in Jerusalem, we are building new tunnels, new neighborhoods, new roads and bridges; we are laying more light-rail routes. The resulting traffic jams are unexpectedly taken in stride by most Israelis, who seem to view every new upgrade with pride – but still honk rudely the instant the light turns green.
Israel is a wake-up call that poses existential questions to this generation of young Diaspora Jews: Who are you? Who do you want to be? Israel doesn’t need to ask for volunteers or handouts to “save” it – our economy and military capabilities provide a safe place to continue the work of state-building.
Zionism is a call to action for idealistic young Jews to join in the ongoing building of the Jewish state. For example: join in the growing movement for separating religion and state in Israel. America wisely solved this problem some 300 years ago with a Constitution. Though there are Basic Laws, we Israelis still have some basic work to do. All Jews are invited to share in the work and benefit spiritually from doing it. Next year in Jerusalem, plague permitting. The writer is a former chief copy editor and editorial writer of ‘The Jerusalem Post.’ His novel, ‘The Flying Blue Meanies,’ is available on Amazon.