Jewish Americans and supporters of Israel gather at the National Mall in Washington, DC on Nov. 14, 2023 for the “March for Israel” rally. Photo: Dion J. Pierre/The Algemeiner

For decades, the American Jewish community operated under an incorrect assumption: we were strong enough to remain siloed. The center-left focused on their spaces, the center-right on theirs, and both sides believed they could combat rising Jew hatred within their own ideological bubbles.

We lived with a false sense of security, believing that our internal divisions were a luxury we could afford.

October 7, 2023, shattered that illusion forever and ushered in a sense of recalibration.

As Jonathan Greenblatt, CEO of the ADL, eloquently put it: “The time for pointing fingers is over.” He rightly diagnosed that those on the right must fight Jew-hatred on the extreme right, and those on the left must fight it on the left.

Implicit in his remarks was a telling recognition that we must all face: the Jewish people are not strong enough to stand divided. We must find common ground, or we will be overwhelmed by the tides of hate rising from every direction.

For the last two and a half years, I have been involved with a movement called Impact. Our mission is simple but vital: to organize individuals into a cohesive greater community capable of reacting — and pro-acting — to events as they unfold in the United States.

While we began with a focus on social media, the reality of the post-October 7 world has forced a crystallization of our goals. We are organizing both online and offline, because the “good fight” is now being waged on every front: from TikTok comments to letter-writing campaigns, and from political advocacy to physical presence.

The logic of organization is one of simple math. Imagine 10,000 individuals each posting their own grievances on social media; the impact is nearly impossible to quantify. But imagine those same 10,000 people acting in concert or even 50,000 people –amplifying a specific message, supporting a courageous micro-influencer, or flooding a representative’s inbox. That is meaningful power.

This isn’t just about the goal of moving the needle; it’s about the empowerment of the people involved. On the road to impact we attain empowerment. When we move from being passive vessels for receiving news to active participants in shaping the narrative, we transform as individuals as well as a community. By liking a post, signing a petition, or showing up at a rally, a person transitions from a concerned citizen to an “unknowing activist.” We are building a community where activism is the default, not the exception.

However, this strength is predicated on a shared definition of who “we” are. True leadership requires representation, and representation requires a base that shares fundamental values. In this era of recalibration, we must be sober about one thing: Jewish unity does not mean including those who actively support our enemies. While they may have been born Jewish, those who deny the basic right of Israel to exist as a democratic Jewish state have placed themselves outside the communal tent.

To build a resilient future, we must rally around our common denominators. We must recognize that the person across the political aisle who shares our commitment to Jewish survival is a much closer ally than the ideological extremist who seeks our dismantling.

The era of the “siloed Jew” ended on October 7. Today, we must choose to be the “organized Jew.” We must utilize this moment to bridge the gaps between the center-left and the center-right. We are stronger together, not because it is a nice sentiment, but because it is a survival necessity. The time for finger-pointing is indeed over; the time for Impact has begun.

Daniel M. Rosen is the chairman and co-founder of IMPACT, a 501c3 dedicated to organizing individuals into communities to combat Jew hatred on social media and beyond. He is a regular contributor to The Jerusalem Post, JNS, Times of Israel, The Algemeiner, and other publications