Rethinking representation in the Jewish Community

“I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.”

This quote, often attributed to Voltaire but probably put into his mouth by his biographer Evelyn Beatrice Hall, captures the principle that even when ideas are polarising, the right to voice them remains a cornerstone of democratic societies.

The Jewish Council of Australia is the latest group in the Jewish community to challenge our willingness to give freedom to those with whom we disagree. Many in the Jewish community have voiced outrage, questioning how a group seen as sharing the views of only a sliver of Jewish Australians could possibly position themselves as a voice of Jewish Australians.

Claims that one group or another does or does not represent Australian Jews beg the question of whether it is possible to capture and express the view of the Jewish community in Australia on any given issue? Views on issues from religion to Zionism to Australian politics vary. Is there a majority view? And if so, who gets to define it, express it, and be seen as its voice?

We’re likely all familiar with the old saying: two Jews, three opinions. It’s often delivered with a knowing smile, but in moments like this, it cuts to something deeper—how difficult it is, maybe even impossible, to pin down a singular Jewish perspective. And yet, we continue to have peak bodies and public figures who claim to represent us as though we were a homogenous bloc.

This is not unique to the Jewish community. Only two years ago, the Indigenous people of this country were the focus of a national conversation around the Voice to Parliament. Many different representative bodies came forward to speak on behalf of Indigenous Australians, however, frustration was also expressed in various pockets about how some views weren’t being heard and that there also wasn’t one singular, simple stance from this diverse group.

As someone who has spent the last five years working in democratic innovation, this question of representation—fair representation—has been of deep fascination to me. Overall, we’ve been taught that in a democracy, we are represented simply through the occasional act of voting. We choose a candidate or a party, based on what they campaign on, and hope they carry our voices forward. But we’re witnessing increasing frustration with and decline of trust in our political representatives, not just in Australia but in many democratic countries around the world. So, does that mechanism fairly enable the depth and diversity of any group’s views? Can one leader—or even one organisation—really embody the full spectrum of Jewish thought in Australia?

Over the past few years, I’ve been advocating for democratic practices that go beyond the ballot box—avenues that give everyday people a genuine seat at the table, not just a checkbox on a form. One of the most powerful tools I’ve seen is called a citizens’ assembly (sometimes called a deliberative panel or mini-public). It’s a deceptively simple idea. A large random group of citizens is selected, then stratified to reflect the diversity of a community—different ages, backgrounds, beliefs. The resultant assembly is given the time, information, and support to deliberate on a complex issue.

A citizens’ assembly does not give precedence to the loudest  loudest voice or conduct a debate with the aim of finding a winning argument. It’s about making space for disagreement, listening, learning, and—when possible—finding common ground on solutions or ways forward. These assemblies have been used all over the world to address everything from climate policy to assisted dying to constitutional reform. They work best when the issue is nuanced, and difficult to resolve through a simple yes-or-no vote.

What would Jewish representation look like if we applied this approach to our community? What if, instead of fighting over who gets to be the voice of Jewish Australians, we acknowledge that there are many voices, and make room to hear them properly and increase ways for the breadth of the community to be heard?

What if we invited a representative group of Jewish Australians—across generations, denominations, political beliefs, levels of observance, and cultural traditions—to sit down and listen to one another? To talk honestly about what matters to us, where we diverge, and where we align. To ask the tough questions: What does it mean to be represented? Who gets to speak for us? And what responsibilities come with that voice?

I support the Jewish Council of Australia’s right to free speech (despite myself having some different views) and welcome the opportunity for them to voice their opinions, preferably in a space where those opinions are respectfully challenged.

But anyone who claims  authority to represent the diverse Jewish community should be challenged, not just those we happen to disagree with.

Democracy demands participation and a Jewish community citizens assembly would enable our community to practice participatory democracy.. –Who can speak for us, if we do not speak for ourselves?