Philanthropy has long been one of the engines of Jewish resilience and renewal. But since Oct. 7, 2023, Jewish giving has entered a new and unsettled phase. The surge of emergency generosity that followed the Hamas attacks was extraordinary, as hundreds of millions of dollars were raised in days for Israel’s defense, relief and recovery. Donors responded instinctively and with heart. Yet two years later, the landscape looks different.
The needs are broader, the urgency less intense and the community faces harder choices about where to direct its attention and resources.
Jewish historian Jack Wertheimer captured the moment clearly in his recent reflections: Jewish philanthropy today is both energized and divided. The impulse to give has not disappeared, but it has scattered. Some donors remain focused on Israel’s recovery; others are turning to fight antisemitism in America or to strengthen Jewish education and community life at home. Each cause is compelling, but the diversification of focus has left gaps, especially in areas that do not command headlines but sustain Jewish life over time, like day schools, camps, synagogues, cultural institutions and social services.
A study by CCS Fundraising, a major consulting firm that works with Jewish nonprofits, found that while many organizations have held on to the new donors who emerged after Oct. 7, most of the continued giving flows to Israel-related and security causes. The challenge now is ensuring that local institutions, Jewish educators and communal professionals are not left behind. They, too, are part of Jewish survival.
Equally striking is how the mechanics of giving have changed. Philanthropy has become less centralized. National organizations that once served as the main channels for Jewish generosity now compete with online campaigns, pop-up funds and influencer-driven appeals. Some of this democratization is healthy, as it allows smaller causes to find new audiences. But it also risks duplication and a loss of strategy. Meanwhile, a handful of mega-donors increasingly shape agendas according to personal passions rather than communal priorities. The result is a philanthropic map that is vibrant but disjointed.
Analysts note that overall giving patterns in the wider nonprofit world mirror these shifts: Donors want tangible impact, transparency and stories that connect emotion to results. Younger donors, in particular, expect a voice in decision making. They give differently — less to institutions, more to projects that align with personal values and demonstrate measurable change. Jewish organizations that fail to adapt to that culture of engagement will struggle to retain support once the urgency of crisis fades.
Donor fatigue also looms. Emergency appeals cannot sustain themselves indefinitely. The task now is to transform spontaneous generosity into lasting commitment, and to remind donors why Jewish institutions matter in ordinary times, not just in moments of catastrophe.
The path forward lies in collaboration rather than competition, building bridges between large and small donors, Israel and the diaspora, legacy institutions and grassroots initiatives. Philanthropy must be seen not simply as charity, but as strategy — an investment in continuity, education and communal strength.
The spirit of giving that arose from tragedy must now become the foundation for renewal. If we can channel passion into purpose, the generosity born in crisis can help shape a stronger, more connected Jewish future. ■
