Opinion

THE BUSINESS FRONT

The battle over Israel is also unfolding in the boardroom

This year, Passover and Easter fell in the same week. Both traditions speak of redemption, hope and a world that can be better than the one we inherited. Across America, Jews and Christians are neighbors, colleagues and friends who share that hope. But when it comes to questions of war, security and moral responsibility, those shared values can lead to different conclusions.

While many Christian communities have proudly stood in solidarity with Israel, some denominations have advanced positions that are highly critical of the state, aligning themselves with some of Israel’s most vocal detractors. Moreover, this advocacy is no longer confined to influencing government policy; it now extends into the corporate boardroom as well.

At GE Aerospace’s upcoming annual meeting, investors will vote on a proposal from the Presbyterian Foundation, an affiliate of the Presbyterian Church (USA) seeking a report on whether the company’s defense products could be linked to “human rights harms or violations of international humanitarian law” in conflict zones. 

On its face, this may appear to be a routine governance question. Investors are entitled to scrutinize corporate risk. But the context matters. 

The Presbyterian Foundation has a long track record of shareholder advocacy and divestment initiatives focused on Israel. Over two decades, PCUSA has taken a series of actions centered on Israel: initiating selective divestment in 2004; advancing boycott measures welcomed by Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions (BDS) advocates; divesting from companies tied to Israel in 2014; expanding its critique of Israeli policy in 2018; declaring that Israel’s laws and policies constitute apartheid in 2022; and most recently, targeting GE Aerospace’s defense relationships involving the supply of engines for fighter aircraft used by the Israeli Air Force.

This proposal does not exist in isolation. According to JLens research, there are now more than 75 active BDS campaigns targeting S&P 500 companies — shareholder proposals, divestment efforts, and coordinated public pressure tied to business relationships involving Israel. These efforts extend far beyond Israeli companies and now include major American firms — from Amazon and Alphabet to GE Aerospace — simply because they provide technology, infrastructure or defensive capabilities to Israel, a country that has been forced to defend itself to preserve its existence since 1948.

In theory, this approach is framed as applying human rights standards consistently through shareholder advocacy. But in practice, Israel is too often singled out, while comparable commercial relationships with other countries in conflict attract far less, if any, scrutiny.

The use of economic pressure to isolate Jewish communities has a long, documented history. Across centuries — from exclusion from trades and guilds in medieval Europe to the boycott campaigns of 1930s Germany — economic pressure was used to marginalize and ultimately destroy Jewish communities. That generational memory does not fade. It shapes how Jews understand campaigns that disproportionately target the world’s only Jewish state through economic means.

Moral conviction has a legitimate place in financial decision-making, and PCUSA has every right to bring its values to bear on corporate governance. But when one nation is scrutinized far beyond all others, and that nation is the only ancestral and national home of the Jewish people, that feels less like moral conviction and more like discrimination.

On Oct. 7, 2023, Hamas carried out the deadliest attack against the Jewish People since the Holocaust, murdering civilians and taking hostages. Since then, Israel has faced sustained assault from Iran and its regional proxies — missiles, drones and cross-border violence that show few signs of abating.

To many Jews, this is not some abstract debate. We have family there. We have friends there — and this Passover, many of them celebrated the Seder in safe rooms and bomb shelters. In Israel, the ability to defend oneself is not a policy question. It is the difference between life and death.

Decisions about which U.S. allies receive advanced defense equipment should continue to be made by our government, not corporate boards responding to activist resolutions. When shareholder proposals single out government-authorized defense relationships involving Israel, investors must ask a simple question: Is this about governance — or about advancing an anti-Israel ideology?

At the Passover Seder, Jews recite a line that has endured for centuries: “In every generation, they rise up against us to destroy us.” It is not a statement of despair — it is what keeps our hope honest, not naive. It is a clear-eyed acknowledgment that freedom and security are never guaranteed. They must be protected, again and again.

Isaiah’s vision still inspires. But Passover reminds us that freedom is never secured once and for all. Until the day swords truly become plowshares, defending life — and resisting efforts to economically isolate those forced to defend it — is both a moral obligation and a reality.

Ari Hoffnung is the senior advisor on corporate advocacy at the Anti-Defamation League. The views expressed are solely those of the author in his capacity at the ADL.