How Jewish patriots in the US Revolutionary War helped shape the First Amendment
In new book ‘A Promised Land,’ history professor Adam Jortner looks at the role of Jews – then just 0.1% of the population – in fighting for independence and forging America
Reporter at The Times of Israel
Over a year into the American Revolution, disaster loomed for the patriots. A British fleet was heading straight for New York City. As Gen. George Washington prepared to respond militarily, a call for spiritual assistance was also issued: The Continental Congress asked houses of worship in the 13 rebellious colonies to hold a day of prayer and fasting on May 17, 1776.
The colonies were overwhelmingly Christian, with Jews representing just one out of every 1,000 colonists and 0.1 percent of the population. When Congress issued the call for prayer and fasting, it invoked the name of Jesus Christ. Yet in addition to the churches that held services that day, a synagogue did so as well: Shearith Israel in New York City. Its cantor, Gershom Seixas, a member of a prominent and extensive Sephardic family, recited Jewish prayers for the patriot cause.
In the following decade, after the colonies had won independence, Seixas continued to insist that Jews be included with their fellow citizens. Having relocated to Philadelphia, he opposed a practice common in multiple states, including Pennsylvania: Public officeholders had to swear an oath to uphold Protestant Christianity. Though his advocacy was initially unsuccessful, Pennsylvania ultimately broke with the practice in 1790, as did other states before and after.
As the United States marks the 250th anniversary of the American Revolution this year, starting with the commemoration of the battles of Lexington and Concord on April 19, a new book reminds readers that Jews such as Seixas played a role in the narrative. This role was not limited to upholding the patriot cause in wartime, but also in the subsequent push for the freedom of religion, enshrined in the First Amendment of the Bill of Rights. Auburn University history professor Adam Jortner makes this case in “A Promised Land: Jewish Patriots, the American Revolution, & the Birth of Religious Freedom,” published by Oxford University Press.
“There’s no religious reason for the Revolution,” Jortner told The Times of Israel in a phone interview. “By which I mean, when the colonies rebel, their complaint is not about religion or religious freedom, it’s that King and Parliament cannot make laws we don’t have a say in — no taxation without representation.”
“As it develops, it becomes clear that religious freedom is a byproduct,” said Jortner, a son of Appalachia who has studied Jewish, Christian and Revolutionary history in the US. “Some of this has to do with Jews — and Catholics as well — showing up to the patriot cause… Of course, a big thing when the war ends and the Constitution is being considered, there’s a real demand for religious freedom.”
Consider the narrative of Gershom Seixas and his brother Moses. Both served as cantors to a synagogue. When the British conquered New York, Gershom fled with a Shearith Israel Torah to a congregation-in-exile in Connecticut. (Loyalist Jews stayed in New York and continued worshiping at the synagogue.) After independence, while serving a congregation in Newport, Rhode Island, Moses Seixas penned a 1790 letter to Washington — now the first president of the United States. The letter inquired whether the new nation would extend religious liberties to Jews. Washington sent a famous response, promising to give “to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance,” which is a restatement of Seixas’s words.
However, Jortner added, “Washington goes a step further. He says that all we require is that each person demean himself as a good citizen, everyone can rest under their vine and fig tree” — a reference to the Hebrew Bible.
A shared Revolutionary experience
In the new nation, life for Jews took unexpected twists and turns. Some — such as Mordecai Sheftall of Savannah, who fought for independence, was captured by the British and was incarcerated on a prison ship — went on to civic prominence that would have been unimaginable under British rule.
A new generation of religious and lay leaders developed a synagogue model that was more democratic in character than previous versions. This, the author claims, stemmed from their shared Revolutionary experience: Due to their patriot sympathies, they fled British-controlled areas in other colonies for Philadelphia and its synagogue, Mikveh Israel.
Post-independence, some of their new countrymen and women held antisemitic views and felt that the US should be a Christian nation, in line with the policy of their former British rulers. Yet Jews encountered allies in the Founding Fathers, including Washington and the principal author of the Bill of Rights, James Madison. (The book notes that non-Protestant Christian denominations, such as Catholics, also pushed for more inclusivity.)
Why did First Amendment protections extend to freedom of religion? The author wonders whether Madison’s motivations might have included his personal acquaintance with at least two Jews — the prominent Revolutionary financier Haym Solomon and educator Jacob Mordecai of Richmond, Virginia.
Jortner also makes room for Jews who left their ancestral faith — they were free to do so in a country where individuals could choose their religion, just as some Christians now converted to Judaism. (Several of Mordecai’s children converted to Christianity, while a minister’s daughter named Jane Picken converted to Judaism when she married a Mikveh Israel cantor who succeeded Gershom Seixas.)
And Jortner also includes accounts that complicate the overall story of freedom. Of the Jewish protagonists in the book, some were slaveholders — such as Sheftall — and some were of racially mixed backgrounds, whose parents included Blacks or Native Americans, two groups who faced both bigotry and persecution in an ostensibly free country.
Being a Jew by choice
When the Revolution broke out, some Jews enthusiastically joined the patriot cause, while others were unsure, mirroring the situation of the colonists overall. Moses Seixas wavered. Based in Newport, he proclaimed his loyalty to King George III after the bloody Battle of Bunker Hill on June 17, 1775. Yet he eventually switched sides.
Some Jewish patriots changed their names when they enlisted — as Elias Pollock did when he became “Joseph Smith.” Jortner wonders whether this was out of fear of antisemitism. Others openly identified as Jews, including in the “Jew Company,” a militia unit formed in Charleston. Its members included David Cardozo, a veteran of multiple battles in the South and the ancestor of future Supreme Court justice Benjamin Cardozo.
Mordecai Sheftall and his uniquely named son, Sheftall Sheftall, served the patriot cause in Georgia, with the elder Sheftall holding civic and military leadership positions. Father and son were captured by the British after Savannah’s fall in 1779. After falling in and out of captivity, the duo wound up in Philadelphia.
While the redcoats had occupied Philadelphia earlier in the war, they left in 1780, by which time other synagogues in the north and south had fallen to the British. Jews from across the colonies — including Mordecai Sheftall — found refuge at Mikveh Israel, which they restructured in 1782 with momentous consequences.
The new Mikveh Israel constitution was “a much more democratic constitution,” Jortner said, “with far more power placed in the membership of the synagogue — and membership is a choice,” unlike Europe, where the synagogue and the Jewish community were synonymous and where birth determined synagogue membership.
“The Jews sort of formed a national model for a synagogue because of the war,” Jortner said. “By and large, they accepted the ideals of the Revolution.” And, he noted, “the leaders of Mikveh Israel would go on to lead every major Jewish congregation over the next 10 years.”
During that period, the newly independent nation went through several versions of government — first the Articles of Confederation, then the Constitution, which proved more enduring. Yet the Constitution wasn’t enough for Madison, who pressed for a Bill of Rights that would enshrine more individual freedoms into federal law — including freedom of worship.
When New York State hesitated to ratify the Bill of Rights in 1788, its celebrated Founding Father, Alexander Hamilton, thought a parade might prove persuasive. It was originally scheduled for July 22, but was moved to a day later. Why? The initial date coincided with Tisha b’Av, which would have kept observant Jews from participating. The clergy who marched included members of diverse Christian denominations — Anglican and Catholic, Calvinist and Lutheran, Presbyterian… as well as Gershom Seixas.
“The question of religious freedom framed by the early American Jews — the Seixas brothers, Sheftall, and others — and the Founding Fathers is not so much a question of which religions we’re going to recognize, which are OK,” Jortner said. “It’s the whole idea that one’s belief in God and the next world is important, but not an issue for citizenship.”
“You can tell if someone is a good citizen, but not by which church they go to or what they say about the afterlife. You can see good citizenship in their actions. You cannot judge a citizen by what thoughts they have, only what they have done,” he said.
As Jortner explains, the Founders and the Jews alike “were trying to build a political community, with participation based on consent. Religiously speaking, you needed to open the door pretty wide.”
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