Jonathan Davis arrived at Reichman University in Herzliya with a vision and a handful of students. Twenty-five years ago, only ten young people from abroad signed up for the new international program he was responsible for creating. Today, the number has grown to 2,500 students from nearly ninety countries. As Vice President for External Relations and head of the Raphael Recanati International School, Davis has overseen Reichman’s transformation into Israel’s leading international campus. But, as he often says, the numbers aren’t the whole story.
“I started with about ten international students,” he recalls. “Now we have 2,500. There was a clear need, and we decided to develop this. As a result, 30 percent of our campus is international. In fact, we are the largest international school in Israel.”
The growth is impressive, but Davis emphasizes that real achievement is what the school has come to signify. It’s not just an academic center; it’s a home, a refuge, and a testing ground for the future of Jewish life. That mission is one reason he was recognized on the *Jerusalem Post*’s annual list of the 50 Most Influential Jews.
The rise of antisemitism on Western campuses has inevitably crept into conversations with students and parents. But Davis refuses to fall into the easy narrative of mass exodus. “Headlines make it seem like everyone is leaving,” he says, shaking his head. “That’s not true.”
He has the data to back it up. Most Jewish students in North America and Europe are still staying put, navigating their studies by keeping a low profile, avoiding visible signs of Jewishness, steering clear of heated campus debates. It’s a strategy of survival, not surrender. And yet, Davis knows there are cracks in that surface – in his office, urgency is protocol. An email from a frightened student in Belgium or Boston doesn’t wait until the next morning; within minutes, someone from Davis’s team is on the phone, no matter the time zone. “We’ll serve as their refuge,” he says simply. “Because of the Zionist university we are, we’ll be there.”
That bridge feels especially crucial as antisemitism increases on Western campuses. Davis speaks carefully about how it affects students’ choices. “Headlines make it seem like everyone is leaving,” he notes. “That’s not true. Most Jewish students abroad are managing, they often stay low profile. But if someone feels threatened, I want to be their fire department. I want to be a Zionist Fire Department.”
For Davis, this is far more than a metaphor. “If a student feels unsafe abroad, our university responds immediately,” he states. “If I receive an email, one of my team members will call within five minutes- no matter the time zone. As a Zionist university, we are committed to being there for our students, serving as their refuge.”
Nothing new under the sun
Growing up in Ithaca, New York, Davis was the only Jewish child in his elementary class. “People used to call me ‘Jew boy,’” he recalls. “Later in high school in California, I got into three fistfights because of it.” At Camp Ramah, he felt a sense of community, although antisemitic taunts from outsiders persisted, looming over him even as he went to seek higher education, where, at Columbia University, hostility was dressed up as intellectual respectability. “I had a professor who penalized me for supporting Israel,” he remembers.
“My definition of terrorism didn’t match his. He called them freedom fighters. He gave me lower grades because of it. That kind of thing stays with you.” In Israel, his path changed again. He volunteered as a lone soldier in the paratroopers’ reconnaissance unit (“Sayeret Tzanhanim”), fighting in the Yom Kippur War as the unit’s first lone soldier.
“Some professors here have told me I probably suffer from PTSD,” he admits. “But they also tell me my best therapy is helping lone soldiers, reservists, and stressed students. Every time I can be there for someone – it’s healing for me, too.” Davis utilized this instinct to protect and serve, shaping Reichman’s culture. “I will lie on the barbed wire for them,” he says bluntly. “Whether it’s lone soldiers, reservists, or international students in trouble, that’s my calling.”
For Davis, calling means providing students with a “Zionist toolkit.” About half of the international students go on to make Aliyah, while the others return home with a transformed sense of self. “They’ve tasted Israeli democracy. They’ve seen freedom of speech, freedom of expression. They’ve experienced independence and responsibility,” he explains. “When they go back, they become automatic ambassadors for Israel, because they know the truth.”
“That education stretches beyond lectures and classrooms. Students mark Israel’s Independence Day with fireworks and music, stand in silence on Memorial Day, and hear the names of Holocaust victims read aloud on campus. Every year, two busloads travel to Poland for a week-long journey through Jewish history. ‘We send seventy students, and half of them are international,’ Davis explains. ‘The aim is immersion, so that when they return home, they carry the perspective of three years in Israel, not just two weeks.’
And as the battle over Jewish identity increasingly shifts online, Reichman has stepped into that arena too. ‘We’re launching a social media influencer workshop for credit,’ Davis says. ‘Fifty students will learn how to use social media to advocate for Israel. By next year, fifty trained influencers will reach hundreds of thousands online.’
A budding community
Still, Davis insists the real measure of impact is not in programs but in people. “It’s seeing a student arrive here as a stranger, unsure of everything, and then flourish, completing their degree, serving in the IDF, starting a family here, or returning abroad to lead their community. That’s the true fulfillment of Zionism. We witness Zionism in action daily.”
He treasures the wedding invitations, alumni emails, and notes of appreciation. “Our twenty-five staff members go to great lengths for our students. We fight bureaucracy for them and care for them when their families aren’t around. We’re like a family.” This family spirit extends beyond campus. In Herzliya, alumni have built a vibrant community – close to a thousand members, many observant, many employed in high-tech, and many raising children who speak Hebrew as their first language.
Almost all trace their journey back to Davis’s international school, but he also emphasizes that the credit isn’t his alone. “Professor Uriel Reichman recruited me from another university,” he says. ”He gave me the mission to without restrictions, allowing me to pursue it fully.” The school’s leadership team shares this ethos: six of eight members are former officers, many from elite combat units. “We incorporate that spirit into everything we do.”
The combination of scholarship and Zionism has become Reichman’s signature. “We’re surrounded by enemies,” Davis states, his tone both sober and firm. “Jewish communities abroad face threats too. Reichman has its special role. We’re not just educating, we’re defending, nurturing, and building.” He returns to the image that motivates so much of his work. “A fire department prefers there be no fires,” he says. “But when a fire happens, you need to be prepared. This is our responsibility now. And we’re ready.”
This article was written in cooperation with Reichman University