Arguing Politics in Synagogue—and Staying Friends
My recent experience with a friend on the other side of the political aisle demonstrates that civil debate is not only possible but necessary
By Tevi Troy
For the past year, I’ve been arguing about politics with one of my friends. That may not seem like a strange statement—lots of people are arguing about politics nowadays. But in this case, our debates have taken place all over the country in front of audiences in Orthodox, Conservative and Reform Jewish congregations. My political opponent is the liberal Rabbi David Saperstein, and the topic has been whether liberalism or conservatism is better for America—and for America’s Jews.
Our debates were specifically designed to show that it’s possible to disagree politically while still treating your opponent with civility and respect. We call the debate series “Eilu vs. Eilu,” after the famous Talmudic verse “Eilu v’eilu divrei Elokim chayim” (“Both these and those are the words of the living God”). The phrase comes from a divine voice that comments on the famous debates of Hillel and Shammai, two rabbis who disagreed about nearly everything but maintained a respectful posture toward each other.
Rabbi Saperstein’s and my debate series had its origins when COVID was still raging. He reached out and asked if we could meet for an outdoor coffee. I had first met him almost 20 years earlier, when I worked in the George W. Bush White House and he was the lead representative of Reform Judaism’s political arm, and we had remained friends through the decades. At that coffee, we discussed the problems of political polarization in our society as well as in the Jewish community. We wondered what, if anything, we ourselves could do to reduce the level of tension. We thought we could help lead by example: We could show a different approach by debating the political issues of our time, sharply but in a respectful way.
I knew from experience that Rabbi Saperstein could be a fierce debater. I had once debated him during the Bush years about the issue of government faith-based offices, an initiative with which I had been involved and which Saperstein opposed. Before that debate began, Rabbi Saperstein sang my praises to the audience, talking about how thoughtful and smart I was, which led me to think that it would be less of a debate than a conversation. Once the bell rang, however, Rabbi Saperstein brought out the shivs with both hands and was relentless. I respected his game and took note for the future.
Our first debate was scheduled for October 15, 2023, in Phoenix. When the horrors of October 7 occurred, we had many conversations about whether to cancel or proceed. We decided to go ahead, but the tone was necessarily somewhat different from what we’d planned, and we tried to emphasize Jewish unity, even as we disagreed on specific policy issues. It was a difficult period for the entire Jewish community, and it was an emotional evening, but the congregation appreciated the ways in which we tried to highlight unity, even in the midst of disagreement.
As the debate series continued, our policy disagreements grew sharper. I knew with near certainty that in every debate Rabbi Saperstein would criticize all the obvious conservative positions. He would blast the Supreme Court for its decisions allowing abortion limits to be decided at the state level, finding that the Second Amendment safeguarded a “fundamental” right, making it easier for unelected officials to be challenged in their regulatory decisions, and allowing election decisions regarding voting rights to be made at the state level. I would always irk him by responding that he did a great job of listing the many accomplishments of the Roberts Court, and I noted that Mitch McConnell could not have done it any better.
While we each had some standard remarks and came to know each other’s arguments pretty well, sometimes one of us would bring in some new material to throw the other off guard. In April, when Iran’s attack on Israel was foiled by the missile defense capabilities of Israel, America and regional allies, Rabbi Saperstein fulsomely praised the Biden administration for helping to protect Israel. I knew that was coming, so I did some research. I uncovered a letter that Rabbi Saperstein had signed in the 1980s opposing Ronald Reagan’s efforts to pioneer missile defense capabilities. During the debate, I said I was glad that he was now supportive of missile defense, because in the 1980s Joe Biden was against missile defense—and so was Rabbi Saperstein. He laughed, appreciating my find.
Rabbi Saperstein of course got his shots in as well. I frequently made the point that synagogue services should be nonpolitical territory, arguing that politics is ephemeral but the Torah is timeless. He counterpunched that the Torah is an inherently political document, and that you can’t discuss issues of justice or helping the poor without bringing in politics. I stand by my argument but acknowledge that the mostly liberal audiences we were visiting seemed to side with him on this point.
One thing that impressed—and encouraged—me throughout the debate series was the audience engagement. The Jewish community is politically active, but I was surprised to find hundreds of people at nearly every one of our debates, all eager to ask questions and hear why we think that, even as we disagree, political polarization is less important than what unites us, both as Jews and as Americans. Another thing that inspired me with hope was the simple acts of kindness along the way. For instance, we would always warn each other when a shirt was untucked or collar askew. While we wanted to win the debate points, we also wanted to make our opponent and friend look good on stage and be at his best representing his ideas.
As a presidential historian, I tried to enrich the discussions with examples from history, highlighting the importance of getting along with those with whom we disagree. I told the story of how at Abraham Lincoln’s inauguration, the new president stepped up to deliver his first address to the nation. Unfortunately, there was nowhere for Lincoln to put his hat. As he looked for a place, his debate opponent from the famous debates of 1858, Stephen A. Douglas, came forward and volunteered to hold Lincoln’s hat as he spoke. I told the audience that I’d always be there to hold Rabbi Saperstein’s hat.
I also recalled several stories of Joe Lieberman and John McCain’s bipartisan partnership as Senate colleagues in the early 2000s. They spent so much time together that McCain once joked that he’d eaten so many kosher meals and kept so many Shabbats, he might as well be Jewish. Lieberman took the opportunity to remind McCain that there was still the matter of the bris to be discussed.
As in those historical moments, our mutual respect led to kindness and even gentle humor on the debate trail. Rabbi Saperstein is far more loquacious than I; whereas I would adhere strictly to the time limits of the debate rules, more than once he went over the time limits. To accentuate this point, I told the story of former Presidents George W. Bush and Bill Clinton, who would go on the road together to speak. Bush would be more concise than the verbose Clinton. At one stop, this led Bush to quip to Clinton, “You know I get paid more than you do for these things.” Clinton would bluster, “No, no, I think we get paid the same.” Bush’s arch reply: “Not per word.”
I don’t know for sure whether Rabbi Saperstein and I changed anybody’s mind in our debates. And it is never clear how a single political debate affects people’s political beliefs or decisions. But I do know that we successfully modeled respect and civility, and that this deepened our friendship, even as we disagreed on important political issues. There is one thing I am confident Rabbi Sapperstein would join me in supporting: my sincere hope that more of our leaders in government, media and society make the same commitment we did to engage with and respect those on the other side. It would strengthen our relationships, our communities and our nation.
Tevi Troy is a visiting fellow at the Mercatus Center at George Mason University and a former White House aide. He is the author of five books on the presidency, including, most recently, “The Power and the Money: The Epic Clashes Between Commanders in Chief and Titans of Industry.”