Features
My memories of Peretz Shul
By KINZEY POSEN It was a late Friday afternoon at Peretz Shul in 1964 or so. A good friend of mine at the time whose Yiddish name was Moishe said, “That’s it! I’m not coming back to school on Monday, I’m out of here!” Ok, as an 11 year old, he might have said it in a slightly different way. It was the first day of school in September and we were just about to go home. “Sure you are Moishe, I’m sure you’ll be back on Monday,” I told him.
Kinzey’s Grade 1 Peretz School class circa 1960
(Thanks to Sandy Shefrin for helping with identifying almost everyone; comments supplied by Kinzey)
Bottom Row crosslegged, left to right: Arthur Greenspan, unidentified, Matthew Levin (a.ka. Moishe in the story)
Second Row (l-r): Paula Wolfman, Rosa Scyzgiel, Shirley Starek, Myra Miller, Faye Golubchuk, Ruthie Rosenzweig,, Honey Leah Berman, Marcie Fleisher
Third Row (l-r): Diane McKay, Lucy Baumel, Janice Goldberg, Howard Kaplan, Sandy Shefrin, Heather Wallace, Pammy Zimmer (Kinzey’s wife, Shayla Fink’s first cousin, a beautiful person (alev hasholem)
Top row (l-r): Sidney Lieber, Martin (Kinzey) Posen, Sheldon Weidman, Harvey Zahn, Harvey Koffman (my first cousin) , Sidney Shoib, Morris Glimcher, Shawn Zell, Miss (Claire) Nelko (who is now Claire Breslaw)
Come Monday, true to his word, my friend did not come back. He had entered an alternate dimension it seemed; he was finished with Peretz Shul! Unheard of! Impossible! How did he do it? Moishe’s act of sedition was a reaction to the Yiddish teacher we had been blessed with that year and he was done. All of us in the class were in awe and Moishe, no worse for wear, having left the school, went on to become a respected ambassador for Canada’s Foreign Service.
A little while back, Bernie asked me to write about Peretz Shul from a different perspective: My own, as a student. I have often wondered why this institution. for those of us who went there, lives so large in our memories. Full disclosure: My grandmother Katya Posen Z’l, nee Gurarie, was one of the founders of Peretz Shul and a lifelong member of the Muter Farein – the women’s organization that helped establish the kindergarten and supported the school.
My father, Abe Posen, attended the school as did his sister, my aunt, Goldie Zuidema Z”l. My dad often told me stories of how various teachers at Peretz used to rent one of the rooms in their house on Burrows. To put it mildly, our family was steeped in Peretzness.
My era began in 1957 when I attended nursery school and then, kindergarten. To this day, I can still smell the matches when our teacher lit the Shabbat candles on Friday and we laid out our little mats to have a nap on. Being a socialist school for the most part, you would think Shabbat would not have been part of the school experience, but I have so many great reminiscences of those two years from making little coloured paper rings several metres long, to receiving the right colour star if we behaved. I loved getting those silver and gold ones alongside my name on the wall – wonderful, warm memories.
Our principal in those early days was Chaver Herstein – an imposing man with a wonderful head of hair and a bit of a temper. We called all our teachers by either “chaver” or “chaverteh” which, in this context, translated to “comrade”. We also called them Leher or Leheren – teacher in Yiddish. Our school was located at 601 Aikins, between Inkster and Polson Avenues. How do I remember the address? Early on as soon as we could write, we always wrote the address at the top of the left corner of the sheet of paper. Now, the building is a health community centre. Once we entered Grade One, our days were separated into half day Yiddish and half day English classes.
Grade One for me – and I am sure for my classmates, was a truly seminal experience. Pushed out of the warm bosom of kindergarten, Grade One meant getting down to serious work. Reading, see Dick run, see Jane run, see Dick and Jane run, writing, singing and my own personal challenge………arithmetic. Our Yiddish teacher, Miss Nelko, was the most beautiful woman who genuinely cared about her students. We loved her and she laid the groundwork for us learning Yiddish and how to be little menches and menchettes. Many years later, Shayla and I received a call about playing a wedding for an older couple. They came over to our house one evening and as we planned the event, it occurred to me that I knew who this woman was: My beloved Miss Nelko, some 40 years later. What a reunion it was!
Our English teacher, on the other hand, had a different style of teaching that could be best described, as adversarial. I renamed her Tyrannosaurus Rex and the invisible scars are still with me. Her approach to learning arithmetic was to say the least, extremely challenging. I was one of those kids who learned math in a different way and in those days, kids such as myself fell through the cracks and we fell deeply. All I remember is after a short explanation of one plus one equals two, etc., we all had to stand up by the blackboard as T Rex wrote a problem on the board. We could not sit down unless we put our hands up and answered correctly. Guess who was often the last kid standing? Me, of course, and I eventually memorized it all so I could finally sit down.
Another time, T Rex distributed to each of us a sheet of paper for some writing project. She gave me what we called at the time “grade one” paper. It’s where the lines were printed with one bold line and two lighter lines and then another bold line. It also had big wood chips in it. I noticed that she was also giving out what we called “grade two” paper. These were all symmetrical bold lines and I wanted one. When she finished giving them out, she asked if everyone received one and me, being me, said, “I didn’t.” My six-year-old brain conveniently forgot that my desk was in the front row and I had scrunched up the grade one paper into a ball and cleverly thought she wouldn’t see it in the wood support for the desk.
As I put my hand up and told her I didn’t get one, she approached my desk in a threatening way, reached into the desk support and said, “What is this?” I was fully chastised, and T Rex bellowed, “You will only get grade one paper for the rest of the year.”
The reality was, in those days, especially in the context of a parochial school, you sometimes had people teaching who were not trained and did not have the skills to do the job. Not only that, more than a few were survivors of the Holocaust and we eventually learned that they experienced terrible horrors in the camps and ghettos.
That being said, I had several wonderful teachers, whose voices to this day still reverberate in my head and I often reflect about their ability to connect and elevate the students.
Mrs. Gold, Mrs. Brooks and Pascal Fishman were some of them. Chaver Fishman came to us from Buenos Aires and was one of our Yiddish teachers. He had a great capacity to see potential in students and encourage them. Another of our teachers, Mrs. Wallace, taught us English and her daughter was in our class for years. The family wasn’t Jewish, but Heather my classmate, spoke Yiddish like a pro. I remember one of our later Yiddish teachers, Mrs. Korman, taught us “Zol Nit Keynmol” the Warsaw Ghetto Song, and led us in a procession to St. John’s Park in the spring, while we sang that song and others.
The year at Peretz Schul was highlighted by two major events. The annual essay contest in Yiddish and English, and the graduation, which took place towards the end of June. For each of those occasions, the auditorium would be absolutely packed and very hot. As students, we often escaped outside to cool off in the lane and we could hear what was going on by the open side doors.
The cultural offerings at Peretz were in my opinion, outstanding. We were taught so many great songs, we acted in plays and we created art. Jewish holidays were celebrated with a Yiddishe taam (Yiddish flavour). Since my Hebrew name was Mordechai/Motel, I always got the part of Mordechai in the Purim play. The music component was delivered by Chaver Bronstein or Mr. Brownstone as he was known at Talmud Torah. His classes were always held in the auditorium, where he’d stand by his easel flipping the song sheets written in Yiddish and we’d follow the words as he used his pointer. Contrary to the Talmud Torah choir experience, he never gave us names or hit us. After he retired, Mrs. Udow took over and when I hoped to join the choir, she said, “Modechai, your voice is changing, perhaps another time.”
After the principal Chaver Herstein retired, Mr. Heilik who was previously at the Calgary Peretz Shul became our new principal. He was an interesting man and because of my ‘occasional’ naughty behaviour, I got to know him a little better than most students. He was an artist. His medium was oil painting and I remember, on one occasion, we were taken out of our class and brought to the auditorium. When we arrived, we saw that all four walls had been covered with his paintings. There were dozens of them. It was a full-blown exhibition of his work.
I bring this up because I became the class artist at Peretz and my teachers often ‘commissioned’ me to draw and colour huge murals in the hallway of the school. This gave me the opportunity to get out of class. Chaver Heilik would always come out of his office to check out my work. My artistry was far below his level, but he was always encouraging and interested in what I was doing.
In my day, we all graduated from Grade Seven and you had the choice of continuing in what was called Mittel Shul. These classes were held after 4 o’clock, after you finished English school. No one in my class went to Mittel Shul and we felt sorry for those who did as they arrived at four, just as we were leaving.
For me, and I’m sure others, the experience of attending Peretz Shul, wasn’t truly appreciated until after we graduated. The real world out there wasn’t as warm and friendly as it was at 601 Aikins. I do know that the school gave me the education that my Baba and other founders were hoping to achieve: an ability to speak Yiddish, a love for the language, Jewish history known as Yiddishe geshicteh and above all, an appreciation for the Jewish people and our incredibly rich journey. I also had my Peretz Shul family, the 12 or so students in my class that I spent 35 hours a week with for nine years. We all take something different away from the experience, but I can guarantee you, many of us, including my friend Moishe the ambassador, will always carry Peretz Shul memories with us for the rest of our lives.
Post script:
Ed. note: It didn’t take me too long to figure out who the “Moishe” was to whom Kinzey refers in his article. I was actually friends myself with “Moishe”, although I knew him better as Matthew Levin.
Matthew was always very independent-minded – even as a kid. That being said, he went on to an illustrious career in Canada’s diplomatic service. Among other posts he held, he was Canada’s Ambassador to Columbia, Cuba, and most recently Spain.
It was while he was Ambassador to Cuba that Matthew, along with his wife, Rosealba, played an instrumental role in helping Cuban Jews emigrate to Israel (since Israel and Cuba did not have diplomatic relations).
When I read Kinzey’s story I decided to send it to Matthew – before I outed him as the “Moishe” in the story. Matthew was pleasantly surprised to see that Kinzey mentioned him in a story and even further that he referred to him as “Moishe”.
In my email to Matthew I mentioned that the last time I had attempted to contact him was when Stephen Harper was Prime Minister and Matthew was Canada’s Ambassador to Cuba. At the time, some low level functionaries in what is known as Global Affairs Canada interceded and said that I would not be able to communicate directly with Matthew. Instead, I was told, I could submit any questions that I had to Global Affairs, they would vet them (no doubt looking for anything that might potentially embarrass the government, such as asking about Matthew’s boyhood years in Winnipeg).
So, when I reached out to Matthew – again, this time after reading Kinzey’s piece, I said that I didn’t know whether he would even receive my email since I suspected “apparatchiks” in the government would see it first – and probably attempt to prevent me from communicating with him directly – again.
I was surprised then, to receive a very warm response from Matthew – in which he explained that he is no longer under the supervision of government “apparatchiks”.
Here’s what Matthew Levin wrote to me, in part:
Wonderful to hear from you! I’m so glad you made the effort to reach out.
I finished my posting to Spain a couple of months ago and am now back in Ottawa and transitioning to retirement. So no more apparatchiks.
First of all, I hope you’re well and coping successfully with these strange times.
Your lovely message brings back all sorts of very fond memories. It’s a long time since anyone called me Moishe (often shortened to Moish back then). I never saw most of my Peretz Shul classmates after I left the school, as Kinzey recalls, at the start of Grade 5 (a long story). Kinzey was one of the very few I did see occasionally, including a few times when he was playing with Finjan. But most of the others I completely lost touch with. Now I sometimes wonder what has become of many of them. It’s really heartwarming to think that Kinzey (Martin at the time and I believe he was Mordechai in Yiddish, or maybe Mendel) remembered me as he was writing this story. Since you and I and our group of friends never called each other by our Yiddish names I’m surprised, but delighted, that you thought of me when you saw this reference to a Moishe.
Thanks so much for sending along Kinzey’s story. I’m sending you this reply before having read it, because I didn’t want to delay getting back to you, but I’ll certainly read it with great interest and undoubtedly pleasure. I really feel honoured and delighted to be included. If you’re in touch with Kinzey, please thank him and give him a big hug – virtual of course for now – from me.
Features
Dating in New York after Oct. 7 was already painful. Then came Zohran Mamdani
By David Berkowitz October 31, 2025
This story was originally published in the Forward. Click here to get the Forward’s free email newsletters delivered to your inbox.
I was considering getting back together with someone I dated earlier this year. When we reconnected this past summer, we hit it off again instantly. As we took in the sunset along the East River promenade, we reminisced about how easily the conversation had always flowed between us.
But then, she had to ask the question: “Who are you going to vote for?”
“I have to vote for Mamdani,” I said.
And that was the end of that. It became a Zohran Mamdani breakup. Or, Mamdani, the Democratic candidate for New York City mayor, torched the chances of us getting back together. I have him to blame — or thank — for that one.
Dating in New York City has never been easy. Dating here as a divorced 40-something Jewish dad seeking to meet other Jews in a post-Oct. 7 world, with an autocrat as president and a democratic socialist running for mayor, is almost impossible. There are so many political reasons to decide it’s not worth it to pursue a relationship with someone — even before determining how well you’d really get along.
When I resumed using dating apps this spring, after the end of my first long-term relationship following my divorce, I noticed that way more Jewish women in their 30s and 40s were listing their politics as “moderate” than I’d ever seen before. Many of them showcased Israeli flags or Stars of David in their bios or noted something positive about Israel or Zionism.
As I began chatting with potential interests, I learned that for some women, the aftermath of the Oct. 7 attack had transformed them from social liberals into supporters of President Donald Trump, due to Republicans’ perceived alignment with Israel’s interests. Others were liberal and perhaps even progressive in many of their views, but adamantly Zionist. They were thus much more conservative than me when it came to any question about Israel’s right to keep prosecuting a war with an exceptionally high civilian death toll.
Being back on the dating scene was a minefield. And then Mamdani’s stunning surge in the Democratic mayoral primary began.
I wasn’t ready to vote for Mamdani in the primary, instead ranking his Jewish ally, Comptroller Brad Lander, first. But the more I learned, the more comfortable I was with Mamdani’s vision and plans for New York. And he’s running for mayor of New York City, after all, not Tel Aviv.
Yet what I found: With many potential dates, even an allusion to Mamdani would halt any progress in its tracks.
Just this month — ironically, on Oct. 7 — I was having a pleasant back-and-forth with someone on Lox Club, the supposedly selective dating app for Jews with “ridiculously high standards.” I was increasingly eager to meet her: She was bright, pretty, well-traveled, and, most importantly, starting to find me hilarious.
She lived in Manhattan, like me. But when I asked about where she’s from, she said she’s from Long Island and that she’ll likely move back after the election if Mamdani wins.
Part of me was tempted to say whatever was needed to at least score a date. I could have done the texting version of smiling and nodding, perhaps validating her fears and saying I’m worried too. But I suspected I’d be wasting my time pretending we could accommodate differing outlooks on the city’s future. I texted her that I’m convinced a Mamdani administration would be way better for the city than most people fear. Still, it seemed our views were too divergent, as much as I’d have loved to meet her. She agreed, and I ruefully tapped “unmatch.”
In some ways, it seems frivolous to lament the plight of diaspora dating. The trauma experienced by Jewish daters in the comfortable environs of New York City can’t possibly be compared to the trauma of those who experienced the terror of Oct. 7, or the suffering of Palestinian civilians in Gaza during the subsequent war.
But there’s a real cost to Jews becoming more suspicious of one another. We risk isolating ourselves into smaller and smaller blocs, making it harder for us to connect once we find each other.
It also means that those who take a less reactive and more nuanced view wind up silencing themselves. How can I express that my heart was torn apart every time I heard first-hand accounts from freed hostages who returned to Israel — but that I also grieve deeply over the devastation in Gaza? How can I admit that former Gov. Andrew Cuomo has a good track record in connecting with Jewish voters and would likely reliably stand up to antisemitism, but be more compelled by Mamdani’s infectious love for New York City — and believe his criticism of Israel doesn’t make him an antisemite?
And how can I express my love for Israel — the idea of it and its people, though not necessarily its government — while voting for a candidate who questions Israel’s viability as a Jewish state?
For too many Jewish daters like myself, there is increasingly a sense that looking for someone who is also willing to take an open-minded approach to conflicting political truths is like praying for a miracle.
There was one promising moment, before my springtime interest and I decided not to renew our romance, that gave me hope. My date and I watched an episode of Real Time with Bill Maher, one of her favorite shows, together. I hadn’t seen his show in so many years that I was game to see why she enjoyed it so much.
I was surprised she could find humor in someone so critical of Trump, the president for whom she voted. She was surprised I could agree with a lot of the centrist views from Maher and his guests, most of which didn’t toe the progressive line. I told her that night that if things worked out between us, we’d have to invite Maher to our wedding.
That obviously didn’t happen. But I still think we need more moments like that — opportunities to appreciate both our commonalities and differences. I could envision another version of that relationship, where we end up listening to different podcasts and following different Instagram accounts, but still find areas where we can share similar perspectives and laugh at the same jokes.
I’m skeptical, and disheartened. But I’m still holding out hope for some future “Maher weddings” — even though with every swipe right or left, it feels increasingly naïve to think that. And yet, at heart, I’m a Jew, and I’ve studied enough of the history of the Jews to know that we’ve been through worse. We’ll get through this. But not before more anniversaries of Oct. 7 have passed.
David Berkowitz is the author of The Non-Obvious Guide to Using AI for Marketing and founder of the AI Marketers Guild.
The views and opinions expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect those of the Forward. Discover more perspectives in Opinion. To contact Opinion authors, email opinion@forward.com.
This story was originally published on the Forward.
Features
Guest Article — A Canadian Jewish Traveller’s Money Playbook: Smarter FX & Safer Digital Finance for Israel Trips and Beyond
Written for readers of jewishpostandnews.ca
Whether you’re flying to Israel for a simcha, helping a student with a gap year, supporting family abroad, or making a donation to a cause you care about, the way you move money matters. Small choices around foreign exchange (FX), card settings, and digital security can quietly cost—or save—you hundreds of dollars per trip. This guest guide keeps things practical and non-hyped, with steps you can use right away.
1) Foreign Exchange: Focus on the all-in cost, not just the posted rate
Most leaks happen in three places: spreads (the markup over interbank), fees(ATM/operator/bank), and terminal settings (dynamic currency conversion, or DCC).
Winnipeg-to-Israel routine (works for most routes):
1. Always pay in the local currency. In Israel, choose ILS at the terminal; in the U.S. leg of a connection, choose USD. Decline DCC—letting the terminal convert to CAD usually costs more.
2. Separate rails by purpose.
○ Everyday spending: use a low/no-FX-fee card.
○ Larger cash or transfers: get a quote from a specialist and compare with your bank’s total cost (rate plus fees).
3. Stage big conversions. If the rate feels jumpy, split a large exchange into two or three tranches to average your price.
4. Carry a small cash float. Enough for taxis, tips, markets, and rural stops—then default to card for everything else.
5. Log your effective rate. Screenshot ATM and card receipts so you can see the actualCAD cost later.
Starting point to benchmark retail quotes: check posted rates, ID requirements, and pickup logistics via currency exchange in Ontario (useful if you or your student connect through Toronto/YYZ or spend time in the GTA before departure).
2) Israel-specific tips (simchas, tours, and longer stays)
● Hotels & car rentals: expect hefty holds on credit cards; keep extra available limit to avoid declines.
● Transit & payments: most urban vendors take cards, but small kiosks and markets may prefer cash; keep some small ILS notes.
● Receipts for donations & tours: store PDFs in one folder (cloud + offline) with a simple naming format (YYYY-MM-DD_vendor_amount). It saves time at tax season and for warranty/claim issues.
3) Tuition, program fees, and family support
Moving four- or five-figure sums? The spread matters more than you think.
● Shop the spread: get at least two quotes on the same day (bank vs. specialist).
● Confirm the lock: ask how long the rate-hold window lasts and the funds-received cut-off to avoid re-quotes.
● Proof of payment: save wire confirmations and the beneficiary’s receipt; mismatched names or references can delay admission or housing.
4) Tzedakah and cross-border donations (general guidance)
● Ask for the right receipt: Canadian tax receipts require a registered Canadian charity number; many Israel-based organizations partner with Canadian affiliates—ask before you give.
● Card vs. wire: cards are fast but may carry higher total cost on large gifts; wires are slower but can be cheaper for size.
● Record-keeping: store the acknowledgement email, PDF receipt, and card/wire confirmation together.
(This section is informational—always seek professional tax advice for your situation.)
5) If you hold a little crypto (optional)
Crypto isn’t for everyone, but if you already hold some—or your student does—treat it like an operations problem: keys, backups, and off-ramps.
Minimum viable safety
● Self-custody for long-term funds: use a hardware wallet; keep a small hot-wallet only for spending.
● Never store seed phrases in email or cloud notes. Write them down and secure them (consider splitting and sealing).
● On/off-ramp drill: before you travel, do a tiny test withdrawal to confirm access and speed; save TX IDs and exchange statements.
If you’re scaling exposure or want a security-first setup (custody architecture, recovery run-through, incident response), consider a session with crypto investment consultants.
6) One-page checklists you can save
Travel Day (Israel or U.S. connection)
● Card set to pay in local currency (decline DCC)
● Small test purchase completed on arrival
● Shortlist of ATMs with known operator fees
● Cash envelope for day-one expenses
● Offline copies of bookings + insurance on your phone
Large FX Transfer (tuition/deposit/donation)
● Two quotes captured (bank vs. specialist)
● Rate-lock window and cut-off confirmed
● Screenshots with timestamps saved
● Wire confirmation + beneficiary receipt filed
Crypto Hygiene (if applicable)
● Hardware wallet initialized; seed written and stored safely
● 2FA keys offline; password manager updated
● Test withdrawal completed; TX IDs logged
● Quarterly: verify balances, rotate credentials, re-test recovery
jewishpostandnews.ca serves readers with local, diaspora, and Israel coverage—readers who routinely plan Israel trips, support causes, and help students abroad. Practical money ops reduce friction on exactly those journeys.
Bottom line (and a small disclaimer)
You don’t need to “time the market.” Use the cheapest reliable rail for each job, avoid DCC, stage large conversions, and keep clean records. If crypto is in your mix, run it with production-grade safety. This article is informational only, not financial, tax, or investment advice; consult qualified professionals for your circumstances.
Features
Why some Satmar Hasidic leaders endorsed Zohran Mamdani as mayor, stunning many Jewish voters
By Jacob Kornbluh November 2, 2025
This story was originally published in the Forward. Click here to get the Forward’s free email newsletters delivered to your inbox.
A surprise endorsement of Zohran Mamdani by a faction of the Satmar Hasidic community has set off a firestorm within the community, exposing sharp internal divisions about the Democratic nominee struggling to earn the trust of many Jews in the race for New York City mayor.
On Sunday, Rabbi Moshe Indig, a political leader of the sect led by Rabbi Aaron Teitelbaum from Kiryas Joel and known as the Ahronim, publicly declared his support for Mamdani at a meeting he organized in Williamsburg.
But within hours, three prominent leaders of the Ahronim sect issued a joint statement rejecting the move and announcing their own endorsement of former Gov. Andrew Cuomo, who was the community’s preferred candidate during the Democratic primary.
Indig, a leading political figure in the Ahronim camp who had praised Mamdani earlier in the campaign as “very nice, very humble” and “not antisemitic,” has not commented publicly since the backlash unfolded.
Why it matters
For Mamdani, who has sought to defuse criticism of his anti-Israel statements through quiet outreach to Haredi leaders, the turmoil reflects both his progress and the limits of his effort.
The approximately 80,000 voters in Brooklyn’s Haredi communities, where rabbinic dictates about ballot choices lead to a reliable bloc of support, are particularly sought after by candidates. The Satmar community is known for its staunchly anti-Zionist religious ideology.
If Mamdani, a democratic socialist and strident critic of Israel who leads by double digits according to recent polls, wins Tuesday’s election, it would mark the third consecutive mayoral race in which Ahronim’s political arm has demonstrated its political influence by backing the eventual winner, while other Hasidic blocs supported rival candidates.
In 2021, they endorsed Eric Adams over Andrew Yang, who was favored by most leading Hasidic sects. And in 2013, they backed Bill de Blasio, who narrowly avoided a runoff in the Democratic primary by just 5,000 votes, while the Zalonim and other groups supported Bill Thompson, then seen as the frontrunner.
The move to endorse Mamdani came days after Satmar, including the larger sect led by Rabbi Zalmen Teitelbaum from Williamsburg and known as the Zalonim, declared that they would not endorse any candidate for mayor while also condemning the “fear campaign” and attacks on Mamdani. They also met with Cuomo on Wednesday night, accompanied by Mayor Eric Adams, but ultimately declined to back him.
In an open letter to their followers published on Wednesday, the Satmar leadership highlighted Mamdani’s gestures that specifically addressed their concerns. They noted that the Democratic nominee has said he would work to protect Hasidic yeshivas that face scrutiny for failing to meet state education standards and promised that Hasidic families would benefit from his proposals to expand affordable housing and establish universal childcare.
If Mamdani wins, he would become the first Muslim mayor of New York City, home to the largest concentration of Jews in the U.S.
Cuomo still enjoys broad support among Jewish voters, who make up an estimated 10% of the general election electorate. A recent Quinnipiac poll of 170 Jewish voters showed Cuomo with 60% of their support and Mamdani with 16%, while a separate Marist poll of 792 likely voters — including an 11% sample of Jewish voters — found Cuomo with 55% and Mamdani at 32% among Jewish respondents.
Cuomo also has the backing of most Orthodox groups that helped swing the 2021 mayoral race for Adams, including the Flatbush Jewish Community Coalition and the two largest voting blocs in Borough Park — Bobov and Belz. The remaining 25 Hasidic sects and yeshivas in Borough Park have declined to issue a recommendation in the current race.
This story has been updated to include news of a rift in the community after the Mamdani endorsement.
Jacob Kornbluh is the Forward’s senior political reporter. Follow him on Twitter @jacobkornbluh or email kornbluh@forward.com.
This story was originally published on the Forward.