Uncategorized
American Jews created historic summer camps. Or did summer camps create American Jews?
(JTA) — Among Sandra Fox’s most memorable finds during her years mining American archives for materials about Jewish summer camps was a series of letters about the hours before lights-out.
The letters were by counselors who were documenting an unusual window in the day when they stopped supervising campers, leaving the teens instead to their own devices, which sometimes included romance and sexual exploration.
“It was each division talking about how they dealt with that free time before bed in ‘age-appropriate ways,’” Fox recalled about the letters written by counselors at Camp Ramah in Wisconsin, the original iteration of the Conservative movement’s network of summer camps.
“I’ve spoken to Christian people who work at Christian camps and have researched Christian camps. There is no free time before bed,” Fox told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency. “That’s not a thing if you don’t want kids to hook up. So it was just amazing to find these documents of Camp Ramah leaders really having the conversation explicitly. Most of the romance and sexuality stuff is implicit in the archives.”
The letters are quoted extensively in Fox’s new book, “The Jews of Summer: Summer Camp and Jewish Culture in Postwar America.” Fox, who earned a PhD in history from New York University in 2018 and now teaches and directs the Archive of the American Jewish Left there, tells the story of American Judaism’s most immersive laboratory for constructing identity and contesting values.
Next week, Fox is launching the book with an event at Congregation Beth Elohim in Park Slope, Brooklyn. (Tickets for the Feb. 23 event are available here.) Attendees will be able to tour adult versions of some of the most durable elements of Jewish summer camps, from Israeli dance to Yiddish and Hebrew instruction to Color Wars to Tisha B’Av, the mournful holiday that always falls over the summer.
“I never considered doing a normal book party,” Fox said. “It was always really obvious to me that a book about experiential Jewish education and role play should be celebrated and launched out into the world through experiential education and role play.”
Sandra Fox’s 2023 book “The Jews of Summer,” looks at the history of American Jewish summer camps. (Courtesy of Fox)
We spoke to Fox about her party plans, how Jewish summer camps have changed over time and how they’ve stayed the same, and the cultural history of that before-bed free time.
This interview has been condensed and lightly edited for clarity. We’ll be continuing the conversation in a virtual chat through the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research Feb. 27 at 1 p.m.; register here.
Jewish Telegraphic Agency: Given how much Jews like to talk about camp, were you surprised that this book hadn’t already been written?
Sandra Fox: There’s been a lot of fruitful research on the history of various camps, but it’s usually been focused on one camping movement or one camp type. So there are articles about Zionist camps. There are certainly articles out there about the Ramah camps. A lot of camps have produced books — either their alumni associations or a scholar who went to let’s say, Reform movement camps have created essay collections about those camps. And there are also books about Habonim and other Zionist youth movements.
I don’t really know why this is the first stab at this kind of cross-comparison. It might be that people didn’t think there would be so much to compare. I think the overwhelming feeling I get from readers so far, people who preordered and gotten their books early, is that they’re very surprised to hear how similar these camps are. So perhaps it’s that scholars weren’t thinking about Jewish summer camps that came from such diverse standpoints as having something enough in common to write about them all at once.
Also distance from the time period really helps. You can write a book about — and people do write a book about — the ’60s and ’70s and have been for decades, but there’s a certain amount of distance from the period that has allowed me to do this, I think, and maybe it also helps that I’m generationally removed. A lot of the scholars who’ve worked on camps in the postwar period went to camps in the postwar period. It makes a lot of sense that it would be harder to write this sort of sweeping thing perhaps. The fact that I’m a millennial meant that I could write about the postwar period — and also write kind of an epilogue-style chapter that catches us up to the present.
What’s clear is that there’s something amazing about studying summer camp, a completely immersive 24/7 experience that parents send children away for. There’s no better setting for thinking about how adults project their anxieties and desires about the future onto children. There’s also no place better to think about power dynamics and age and generational tension.
I was definitely struck by the “sameyness” of Jewish camps in your accounting. What do you think we can learn from that, either about camps or about us as Jews?
I do want to say that while there’s a lot of sameyness, whenever you do a comparative study, there’s a risk of kind of collapsing all these things and making them seem too similar. What I’m trying to convey is that the camp leaders from a variety of movements took the basic structure of the summer camp as we know it — its daily schedule, its environment, its activities — and it did look similar from camp to camp, at least on that surface level.
If you look at the daily schedules in comparison, they might have a lot of the same features but they’ll be called slightly different things depending on if the camp leans more heavily towards Hebrew, or Yiddish, or English. But the content within those schedules would be rather different. It’s more that the skeletal structure of camp life has a lot of similarities across the board and then the details within each section of the day or the month had a lot of differences.
But I think what it says is that in the postwar period, the anxieties that Jewish leaders had about the future of Judaism are really, really similar and the solution that they found within the summer camp, they were pretty unanimous about. They just then took the model and inserted within it their particular nationalistic, linguistic or religious perspectives. So I think more so than saying anything about American Jewry, it shows kind of how flexible camping is. And that’s not just the Jewish story. Lots of different Americans have embraced summer camping in different ways.
So many people who have gone to camp have a fixed memory of what camp is like, where it’s caught in time, but you argue that camps have actually undergone lots of change. What are the most striking changes you documented, perhaps ones that might have been hard for even insiders to discern as they happened?
First of all, the Israel-centeredness of American Jewish education as we know it today didn’t happen overnight in 1948, for instance. It was a slower process, beyond the Zionist movements where that was already going on, for decades before 1948. Ramah and the Reform camps for instance took their time towards getting to the heavily Zionist-imbued curricula that we know.
There was considerable confusion and ambivalence at first about what to do with Israel: whether to raise an Israeli flag, not because they were anti-Zionist, but because American Jews had been thinking about proving their loyalty to America for many generations. There were some sources that would talk about — what kind of right do American Jews have to raise the Israeli flag when they’re not Israeli? So that kind of Israel-centeredness that is really a feature of camp life today was a slower process than we might think.
It fit camp life really well because broader American camps used Native American symbols, in some ways that are problematic today, to create what we know of as an iconography of camp life. So for Jews, Israel and its iconography, or Palestine and iconography before ’48, provided an alternative set of options that were read as Jewish, but it still took some time to get to where we are now in terms of the Israel focus.
One of the reasons I place emphasis on the Yiddish summer camps is to show that in the early 20th century and the mid-20th century there was more ideological diversity in the Jewish camping sphere, including various forms of Yiddishist groups and socialist groups and communist groups that operated summer camps. Most of them have closed, and their decline is obviously a change that tells a story of how American Jewry changed over the course of the postwar period. Their legacy is important, too: I have made the argument that these camps in a lot of ways modeled the idea of Yiddish as having a future in America.
What about hookup culture? Contemporary discourse about Jewish camps have focused on sex and sexuality there. What did you observe about this in the archives?
I think people think of the hookup culture of Jewish camps today and certainly in my time in the ’90s and 2000s as a permanent feature, and in some ways I found through my research and oral history interviews that that was the case, but it was really interesting to zoom out a little bit and think about how Jewish summer camps changed in terms of sexual romantic culture, in relationship to how America changed with the sexual revolution and the youth culture.
It’s not it’s not useful to think about Jewish hookup culture in a vacuum. It’s happening within America more broadly. And so of course, it’s changed dramatically over time. And one of the things I learned that was so fascinating is that Jewish summer camps were actually their leaders were less concerned in a lot of ways about sexuality at camp in the ’40s and ’50s, than they were in the late ’60s and ’70s. Because earlier premarital sex was pretty rare, at least in the teenage years, so they were not that concerned about what happened after lights out because they kind of assumed whatever was going on was fairly innocent.
In the late 1960s and 1970s, that’s when camps have to actually think about how to balance allowance and control. They want to allow campers to have these relationships, to have their first sexual experiences, and part of that is related to rising rates of intermarriage and wanting to encourage love between Jews, but they also want to control it because there’s a broader societal moment in which the sexuality of teenagers is problematized and their and their sexual culture is more public.
There’s been a real wave of sustained criticism by former campers about the cultures that they experienced, arguing that the camps created an inappropriately sexualized and unsafe space. There’s been a lot of reaction to that and the broader #MeToo moment. I’m curious about what you can speculate about a future where that space is cleaned up, based on your historical research — what is gained and what, potentially, could be lost?
Without being involved in camping today — and I want to really make that disclaimer because I know a lot of change is happening and lot of organizations are involved to talk about this issue better, to train camps and camp leaders and their counselors to not create a pressured environment for camper — I think what the history shows is that this hookup culture did not come about out of nowhere. It was partly related to the broader changes in America and the sexual revolution.
But it was also partly created because camps really needed to have campers’ buy-in, in order to be “successful.” A huge argument of my book is that we think about the power of camps as if camp directors have campers as, like, puppets on strings, and that what they do is what happens in camp life. But actually, campers have changed the everyday texture of life at camp over the course of the decades in so many different ways by resisting various ideas or just not being interested.
So hookup culture is also part of making campers feel like they have freedom at camp and that’s essential. That’s not a side project — that is essential to their ability to get campers to come back. It’s a financial need, and it’s an ideological need. If you make campers feel like they have freedom, then they will feel like they freely took on the ideologies your camp is promoting in a really natural way.
The last part of it is rising rates of intermarriage. As rates of intermarriage rose in the second half of the 20th century, there’s no doubt in my mind from doing the research that the preexisting culture around sexuality at camp and romance at camp got turbo-boosted [to facilitate relationships that could potentially lead to marriage between two Jews]. At that point, the allowance and control that camp leaders were trying to create for many decades leans maybe more heavily towards allowance.
There are positives to camp environments being a place where campers can explore their sexualities. There’s definitely a lot of conversation about the negative effects and those are all very, very real. I know people who went through horrible things at a camp and I also know people who experienced it as a very sex-positive atmosphere. I know people in my age range who were able to discover that they were gay or lesbian at camp in safety in comparison to home, so it’s not black and white at all. I hope that my chapter on romance and sexuality can maybe add some historical nuance to the conversation and give people a sense of how this actually happened. Because it happened for a whole bunch of reasons.
I think there’s a consensus view that camp is one of the most “successful” things the Jews do. But it’s hard to see where lessons from camp or camp culture are being imported to the rest of Jewish life. I’m curious what you see as kind of the lessons that Jewish institutions or Jewish communities have taken from camp — or have they not done that?
Every single public engagement I do about my work has boiled down to the question of, well, does it work? Does camp work? Is it successful? And that’s been a question that a lot of social scientists have been interested in. I don’t want to oversimplify that research, but a lot of the ways that they’ve measured success have been things that are not necessarily a given to all Jews as obviously the right way to be a Jew. So, for instance, in the ’90s and early 2000s, at the very least, a lot of research was about how, you know, “XYZ” camp and youth movement were successfully curbing intermarriage. A lot of them also asked campers and former campers how they feel about Israel, and it’s always if they are supportive of Israel in very normative ways, right, giving money visiting, supporting Israel or lobbying for its behalf — then camps have been successful.
I’m not interested in whether camps were successful by those metrics. I’m interested in how we got to the idea that camp should be successful in those ways in the first place. How did we get to those kinds of normative assumptions of like, this is a good Jew; a good Jew marries a Jew; a good Jew supports Israel, no matter what. So what I wanted to do is zoom out from that question of success and show how camp actually functions.
And then the question of “does it work” is really up to the reader. To people who believe that curbing intermarriage is the most important thing, then camps have been somewhat successful in the sense that people who go to these heavily educational camps are less likely to marry out of the faith.
But I am more interested in what actually happened at camp. And in terms of their legacies, I wanted to show how they changed various aspects of American Jewish life, and religion and politics. So I was really able to find how camping was essential in making kind of an Israel-centered Jewish education the norm. I was also able to draw a line between these Yiddish camps over the ’60s and ’70s that closed in the ’80s and contemporary Yiddish. The question of success is a real tricky and political one in a way that a lot of people have not talked about.
And is camp also fun? Because you’re creating a camp experience for your book launch next week.
Camp is fun — for a lot of people. Camp was not fun for everyone. And so I do want to play with that ambivalence at the party, and acknowledge that and also acknowledge that some people loved camp when they were younger and have mixed feelings about it now.
The party is not really a celebration of Jewish summer camp. People will be drinking and having fun and dancing — but I want them to be thinking while also about what is going on and why. How is Tisha B’Av [the fast day that commemorates the destruction of the ancient Jewish temple in Jerusalem that falls at the height of summer] commemorated at camp, for example?
Or what songs are we singing and what do they mean? I think a lot of people when they’re little kids, they learn songs in these Jewish summer camps that they can’t understand and later they maybe learn Hebrew and go, whoa, we were singing what?! My example from Zionist summer camp is singing “Ein Li Eretz Acheret,” or “I Have No Other Country.” We were in America and we obviously have another country! I don’t think anyone in my youth movement actually believes the words “Ein Li Eretz Acheret” because we live in America and people tend to kind of like living in America and most of them do not move to Israel.
So at the party we’ll be working through the fun of it, and at the same time the confusion of it and the ambivalence of it. I want it to be fun, and I also want it to be something that causes people to think.
—
The post American Jews created historic summer camps. Or did summer camps create American Jews? appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Uncategorized
A ‘unique 20th Century Israelite’ who always made sure we got it right
It’s fitting that I first met Rabbi Capers Funnye in a television studio. And it should surprise no one that the topic that brought us together — by no means accidentally — was a discussion about Black Jews.
We never stopped talking about it. And making sure others got it right.
The spiritual leader for decades of Chicago’s Beth Shalom B’nai Zaken Ethiopian Hebrew Congregation and since 2016 the Chief Rabbi of the International Israelite Board of Rabbis, Funnye died Nov. 2 at 74.
Our friendship spanned decades, beginning before we co-founded the Alliance of Black Jews with Michelle Stein-Evers Frankl in 1995. With Stein-Evers, then in Los Angeles, and me in Boston, the organization brought together Jews of African descent from around the country to celebrate our dual affiliations as normative.
Although the organization did not last beyond its early years, it spawned numerous other groups that exist today. Most significantly, it mainstreamed the fact that Blackness and Judaism are not mutually exclusive.
That’s the message we had been imparting five years earlier, on the Black Entertainment Television show Our Voices in 1990. Having filed a story mentioning Black Jews while a reporter for BET’s news division, I was asked by the network to co-produce a special on the subject. In addition to me, they asked who else should appear.
“There’s a rabbi in Chicago,” I said unhesitatingly, though I had yet to meet him, “and the police chief in Charleston, South Carolina” — Reuben Greenberg, who passed away in 2014.
Each of us came to Judaism differently: me, the child of a non-Jewish African-American father and non-Black Jewish mother; Greenberg, via conversion first through Reform, then Conservative Judaism (and also “reversion” in that he was reaching back to the religion of his grandfather), and Funnye, who had been Methodist before joining the Ethiopian Hebrew denomination (of African Americans, not Ethiopians) and later underwent a Conservative conversion.
Although his smicha was granted by the Ethiopian Hebrew group (now more broadly termed Israelite) and not by the Conservative body, he was invited to join the Chicago Board of Rabbis as its first African American member in 1997.
His dual affiliations as both Conservative and Israelite — and indeed, that of his largely Black and increasingly Hispanic Chicago shul, which also had merged with an aging Ashkenazi congregation — allowed him to serve as a bridge between many strains of Judaic practices.
“He accomplished what he wanted,” said Rabbi Baruch A. Yehudah of Congregation B’nai Adath Kol Beth Yisrael in New York. “He wanted to be a bridge builder and he built many — into the Ethiopian community, the Nigerian community, South Africa, Ghana, Uganda. He was the first one of us to be on a mainstream board of rabbis.”
“I loved him,” Yehudah added. “He wasn’t just my boss.”
Bruce Haynes, author of The Soul of Judaism, called Funnye “the most unique 21st Century Israelite” because of his role as chief rabbi. “To my knowledge, that (position) was the first of its kind. It elevated him institutionally as the premiere figure among modern-day Hebrew Israelites.”
Yet that outreach went beyond the bima. “Having chosen to move his whole family toward Conservative Judaism was an important step in cementing a personal relationship between Israelite congregations and rabbinic Judaism,” Haynes said.
Rabbi Tamar Manasseh, a protégé of Funnye who in 2021 became the first woman ordained by the Israelite body, said Funnye was “doing the whole bridge thing before anybody knew that they wanted a bridge.
“There were Black Jews who didn’t like that. There were white Jews who didn’t like that, either. It was uncomfortable for everybody until it wasn’t uncomfortable for anybody.”
She praised him for enduring “all of the stuff he had to go through to get us to a point where I can complain about things now, which is remarkable.”
I too find it difficult to separate the personal from the bridge-building. In addition to our numerous Black Jewish campaigns and initiatives — we literally traveled the world together, from Chicago to Boston to San Francisco to Uganda — he served as the rabbi for my mother’s funeral and my daughter’s wedding.
In my ever-diverse family, both were examples of bridge-building in their own right. During the wedding, my now son-in-law, whose native language is Russian, recited the line “I concentrate you to me as my wife,” prompting Funnye to break from the prepared liturgy to correct him.
“No, no. Consecrate. We gotta get this right.”
“I consecrate you to me as my wife,” the groom said, appreciative of the gentle but authoritative guidance.
Because Capers made sure to get it right.
The post A ‘unique 20th Century Israelite’ who always made sure we got it right appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
The Jewish midterms: Races to watch on Election Day
Tuesday’s midterm elections will determine which party controls Congress for the final two years of President Donald Trump’s second term, with Republicans fighting to hold their narrow majorities and Democrats hoping to regain power.
Recent polls suggest Democrats are favored to retake the House and have a strong chance of winning the Senate. Several closely watched gubernatorial races could also shape the field for the 2028 presidential election and increase the number of Jewish governors.
The outcome could have immediate consequences for U.S. foreign policy, particularly American support for Israel and the war with Iran. If Democrats win the House, they would have greater power to investigate Trump’s handling of the war, limit his power and challenge his foreign policy decisions. Democrats will also likely push for restrictions on military aid to Israel, depending on who forms the next Israeli government. Democrats remain divided over Israel and their leadership has so far resisted pressure to pursue major changes to longstanding U.S. policy.
A Democratic takeover of Congress would put House Democratic leader Hakeem Jeffries and Senate Democratic leader Chuck Schumer, both longtime supporters of Israel, in charge of their respective chambers and navigating any divides within their caucus.
The elections will also test whether Democrats can win back voters who shifted toward Trump and will reveal how much influence the party’s progressive wing may have, particularly on Israel and foreign policy going into the presidential primary season.
For Jewish voters, the stakes are especially high. Although they make up only about 2% of the population nationwide, Jewish voters could help decide close races in New York, Michigan, Georgia and Ohio. The results could also show whether frustration with Democrats over Israel is driving more Jewish voters toward Republicans or whether concerns about antisemitism on the right and disapproval of Trump are keeping them in the Democratic camp.
Here are the key races we’re watching and what’s at stake.
– Senate –
Michigan: Abdul El-Sayed (D) vs. Mike Rogers (R)
Issues: The race has become one of the largest tests of the Democratic divide on Israel and antisemitism. El-Sayed, a progressive and fierce critic of Israel, defeated Rep. Haley Stevens in the contested Democratic primary despite millions spent by AIPAC and other pro-Israel groups. Now, Stevens is backing Rogers. El-Sayed has refused to moderate his views and has doubled down on ending Israel aid and his association with Hasan Piker, a popular left-wing pundit who has been accused of antisemitism. El-Sayed said he disagreed with the content of an ad from a PAC supporting his campaign that blamed U.S. aid to Israel for rising grocery prices.
The Jewish vote: The state has an estimated 130,000 Jewish residents, who make up 1.4% of the electorate. The Republican Jewish Coalition spent $2 million to target 50,000 Jewish voters in Oakland County who opposed El-Sayed in the primary; those votes could matter in a close race.
Georgia: Incumbent Jon Ossoff (D) vs. Mike Collins (R)
Issues: Ossoff, the state’s first Jewish senator, has angered some Jewish voters for backing measures to block some aid to Israel. Collins criticized Ossoff for supporting El-Sayed. The Republican has been accused of ties to white nationalists and antisemitic figures, including his son-in-law, who promoted antisemitic conspiracies. Collins rejected their views and condemned antisemitism.
The Jewish vote: Georgia is home to an estimated 150,000 Jews, primarily in Atlanta. Though that represents 1.3% of the electorate, Jewish voters could play an important role in a state where recent elections were decided by narrow margins. The outcome could test whether dissatisfied Jewish Democrats will still support Ossoff over a Trump-aligned Republican and whether his Jewish identity still provides a political advantage.
Florida: Incumbent Ashley Moody (R) vs. Angie Nixon (D)
Issues: Moody, who was appointed to the Senate in 2025 after Marco Rubio became Secretary of State, is a staunch supporter of Israel and led on combating BDS in her previous role as attorney general. Nixon is the first member of the Democratic Socialists of America on a major party ticket. She did not make Israel the centerpiece of her Senate campaign, which focused heavily on affordability, health care and other economic issues. But on Israel and Gaza, her record puts her broadly in line with the DSA’s platform.
The Jewish vote: Florida is home to 750,000 Jews, who make up an estimated 3-5% of the state’s electorate. Moody leads Nixon by an average of 6 percentage points.
– House –
New York 17: Rep. Mike Lawler (R) vs. Cait Conley (D)
Issues: Support for Israel and antisemitism were central in outreach to the Jewish community, though the two candidates have more in common on those issues than their campaigns suggest. Lawler highlighted his ties to Jewish voters and questioned whether Conley would stand up to anti-Israel voices in the Democratic Party, while Conley accuses him of associating with Republicans who have faced accusations of antisemitic rhetoric and ties to white nationalists.
The Jewish vote: The district has 150,000 Jewish residents who make up 19% of the population. At least 20,000 members of the growing Hasidic communities in Rockland County voted for Lawler in 2024. His first race was won by a narrow margin of about 2,000 votes. The margin of victory could determine whether a pro-Israel moderate Democrat could peel away Jewish voters from Lawler’s camp.
New York 10 and 12: Brad Lander and Micah Lasher
Lander and Lasher are heavily favored to win their races in the deep blue districts. They represent a generational transition in the debate over Israel and Jewish influence in Congress, as Jerry Nadler, co-chair of the Congressional Jewish Congress who served as the leading voice in Congress for liberal Jews, is set to retire. Lander, an ally of New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani and of the pro-Palestinian movement, supports halting all aid to Israel and has called the Gaza war a genocide, while Lasher supports continued aid and calls himself a Zionist.
The Jewish vote: The 12th District has the nation’s largest Jewish population – 24%, while the 10th ranks fourth, at 21%.
New York 13 and 7: Daraliza Avila Chevalier and Claire Valdez
The election of Avila Chevalier, a former Columbia University Gaza War encampment activist, in the 13th District — where Jews make up 6% — and Valdez in the 7th District in Brooklyn — where Jews make up 13% – will put two fierce Israel critics and DSA members at the center of debate over Israel in Congress.
Florida 20: Rep. Debbie Wasserman Schultz (D) vs. Brent Andersen (R)
Wasserman Schultz, one of the most prominent Jewish members in Congress, is favored to win reelection after easily winning the Democratic primary in a redrawn majority-Black district, surviving GOP redistricting. Jews make up just 5% of her new district.
Florida 25: Rep. Jared Moskowitz (D) vs. Scott Singer (R)
Issues: Moskowitz, who built a reputation as an outspoken supporter of Israel and one of the more bipartisan members of the House, easily defeated Oliver Larkin, a democratic socialist and fierce critic of Israel, in the August primary as he clashed with progressives over Israel. Singer, the Jewish former mayor of Boca Raton, highlighted his support for Israel and his roots in the district and, if elected, could increase the Jewish Republican caucus to five members.
The Jewish vote: The district is home to 67,000 Jews, at 8%. Recent polls show a close race, in which Jewish voters will play an important role in deciding whether they are represented by a Jewish Democrat or a Jewish Republican.
California 11: Scott Wiener vs. Connie Chan
Issues: This race to succeed Nancy Pelosi, the former House Speaker, is a test of how far left on Israel is good enough for San Francisco. Both Weiner, who is Jewish and advanced to first place in the Democratic primary, and Chan say that Israel committed genocide in Gaza and want to end U.S. military aid to Israel. Chan, however, is the favored candidate among pro-Palestinian activists, who say Weiner’s characterization of the conflict as a genocide was too little, too late.
Jewish vote: The district is home to 57,000 Jews, 7.5% of the population. Wiener leads Chan by an average of 6 percentage points.
Colorado 1: Melat Kiros (D) vs. Shimon Blau (I)
Issues: Israel has been a defining issue in the race. Kiros, a democratic socialist, has repeatedly declined to call the 2025 firebombing of a walk for Gaza hostages antisemitic. The attacker was heard yelling “Free Palestine” as he threw molotov cocktails, injuring 13 people, including an 82-year-old woman who later died from her injuries. Kiros has since said she understands “the immense pain and fear the Boulder attack caused.” Kiros has also argued in favor of a one-state solution, called for ending both offensive and defensive weapons sales to Israel, and called Hamas’s Oct. 7, 2023 attack the “inevitable consequence of apartheid.” Blau, an Orthodox Jew, said he was inspired to get into the race by what he described as Kiros’ antisemitic rhetoric. He told Axios he’ll caucus with Democrats if elected.
The Jewish vote: Jewish voters make up about 2% of the state’s electorate. Kiros is favored to win and become the first Gen Z woman elected to Congress.
Ohio 7: Rep. Max Miller (R) vs. Brian Poindexter (D)
Issues: Miller, a Jewish Republican and former Trump White House aide, has been an outspoken supporter of Israel and a critic of antisemitism on the left. But his reelection campaign has been overshadowed by allegations of domestic violence and abuse made by his ex-wife, Emily Moreno, the daughter of Republican Sen. Bernie Moreno. Last year, a local doctor was arrested after threatening to kill Miller. Poindexter, a union ironworker endorsed by J Street and the Jewish Democratic Council of America, largely avoided discussing Israel in the campaign.
The Jewish vote: The Cleveland area is home to one of Ohio’s largest Jewish communities, though the Jewish share of the 7th District is estimated at 2%.
Virginia 2: Rep. Jen Kiggans (R) vs. former Rep. Elaine Luria (D)
Issues: Luria, a Jewish Navy veteran, is challenging the Republican incumbent in a closely watched rematch after losing the seat in 2022. In her farewell speech on the House floor, Luria accused some of her colleagues of engaging in antisemitic tropes. Democratic Majority for Israel invested $1 million in a digital ad campaign supporting her political return. Both candidates have military backgrounds, making national security and foreign policy central to the contest.
The Jewish vote: The district’s 8,400 Jewish residents make up 1% of the population.
– Governors –
Ohio: Amy Acton (D) vs. Vivek Ramaswamy (R)
Issues: Ramaswamy, an American First candidate, campaigned twice at a church whose pastor called modern Judaism “fake.” Acton, who is Jewish, faced antisemitic attacks while serving as Ohio’s health director during the COVID-19 pandemic. Ramaswamy boasted during the campaign that he was the first Republican, during the 2024 presidential primary, to propose sunsetting the $38 billion aid for Israel. If Acton wins, she would be Ohio’s first Jewish governor, while Ramaswamy would be the state’s first Hindu governor.
The Jewish vote: Ohio is home to 180,000 Jews, 1.5% of the state’s population. Acton has a four-point lead over Ramaswamy.
New York: Kathy Hochul (D) vs. Bruce Blakeman (R)
Issues: Blakeman, the Jewish Nassau County executive, has made support for Israel and opposition to antisemitism on the left central themes of his campaign against Hochul. But Blakeman has struggled to match the support former Republican gubernatorial candidate Lee Zeldin received from Jewish voters and Hasidic voting blocs four years ago. Hochul has maintained strong ties with Jewish leaders even while working closely with New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani. She remained a strong supporter of Israel despite growing criticism of the country within her party. A recent Netanyahu critic, Hochul was the first foreign elected official to visit Israel shortly after Oct. 7 and criticized the pro-Palestinian protests on campus. Her most recent state budget included a measure establishing a buffer zone around houses of worship to prevent disruptive protests from blocking access.
The Jewish vote: The state’s 1.8 million Jews have historically played an outsized role in elections, exceeding their 9% share of the population. Organized Hasidic voting blocs are sought after by both parties. This year, most groups endorsed Hochul, in part because of her decisions to pause the implementation of state regulations on secular education in yeshivas and to join the federal tax-credit program created under Trump that would help families pay for private school tuition.
– Other races –
LA Mayor
The competitive race for mayor of Los Angeles features the incumbent, Karen Bass, against Nithya Raman, a democratic socialist, who has threaded the needle on Israel, putting her at odds with the national Democratic Socialists of America, which requires candidates to take an anti-Zionist stance. Bass has rejected the use of the term “genocide” and opposes the movement to boycott Israel. She has also faced criticism from parts of the Jewish community for what some considered an inadequate response to the Pacific Palisades wildfires and for failing to establish protest-free buffer zones outside synagogues.
Colorado Governor
Phil Weiser, the state’s Jewish attorney general, is hoping to succeed Jared Polis, the Jewish governor who is term-limited. Victor Marx, the Republican nominee, has faced antisemitism allegations for depicting Weiser with red horns in an attack ad.
2028 watch
Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro and Illinois Gov. J.B. Pritzker are both favored to win reelection. Both Jewish politicians have been floated as possible 2028 presidential candidates so how well they perform, and how strong their coattails are, may influence their future prospects.
Texas railroad commissioner
Jewish state Rep. Jon Rosenthal accused his Republican opponent, Bo French, of sending an antisemitic fundraising email in July. French has focused his campaign on culture war issues, despite the office’s limited role: regulating the state’s gas and oil industries.
Michigan Board of Regents
Lena Epstein, who is Jewish, is seeking a seat on one of the two open seats for the Michigan board of regents in an election seen as an Israel litmus test for Democrats. The Democratic nominee, Amir Makled, has faced scrutiny over past social media posts viewed as pro-Hezbollah and antisemitic.
The post The Jewish midterms: Races to watch on Election Day appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
In Michigan, a Black conservative group pushes Jewish and pro-Israel messaging
(JTA) — YPSILANTI, Michigan – A Black conservative group is distributing signs and paying for billboards in Michigan encouraging Black voters to support Jews and Israel, in the days before a contentious U.S. Senate race in which the Democratic candidate has struggled to shore up both voting groups.
The Center for Urban Renewal and Education (CURE), a Washington, D.C.-based nonprofit, has paid for a series of yard signs reading “Blacks and Jews Standing Together” throughout cities with high Black populations, including Detroit, Flint and Ypsilanti.
The nonprofit’s director, Star Parker, told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency in an email their goal is “to remind black Christian voters of unique and special reasons to stand with Israel.”
Parker said CURE is also paying for billboards in the area reading “Self Defense is Not Genocide” and “Many Black Evangelicals Agree that Israel Has a Right to Exist.”
The signs and billboards do not name any candidates. But Michigan’s Democratic Senate nominee, Abdul El-Sayed, has alienated many Jewish voters with his rhetoric on Israel and comments on Jewish safety.
He has also had difficulty shoring up Black support, another traditional Democratic constituency, with many Black Detroiters voting for his primary rival, U.S. Rep. Haley Stevens. That phenomenon has shifted somewhat in the race’s final days, with one poll commissioned by the Detroit News suggesting that 87% of likely Black voters would support El-Sayed.
Still, there can be distrust between Black and Arab communities as with Jewish and Arab populations. Sam Robinson, a Detroit-based reporter for a historic Black newspaper who has interviewed scores of Black voters in viral interviews, recently told the Columbia Journalism Review, “There’s a scarcity mindset that there are only so many resources and Arabs are somehow taking Black people’s share.”
Republican Mike Rogers, meanwhile, has courted Black voters as well as Jewish ones, with pro-Rogers ads highlighting tensions between local Black and Arab communities. A new super PAC linked to Rogers has spent heavily on ads stating that El-Sayed “has been disrespectful and dishonest with Black voters.”
CURE’s signs targeting Black voters appeared in the final week of the campaign. They followed an Oct. 22 interfaith roundtable in Detroit hosted by the organization, in which a local rabbi appeared alongside Black pastors to discuss the history of Black-Jewish organizing — a longtime alliance that has been shaken in recent years for a number of reasons.
Rabbi Aaron Bergman of Adat Shalom, a Conservative synagogue in the Detroit suburb of Farmington Hills, participated in the CURE roundtable. Over email, he told JTA that politics was not meant to be the focus of the event.
“It was mostly about teaching about antisemitism, which I guess at this point in history is political,” Bergman wrote.
El-Sayed has focused much of his campaign’s homestretch on shoring up the Black vote, visiting Black churches and holding events with former President Barack Obama and senior U.S. Rep. Jim Clyburn of South Carolina, a Black congressional leader. Driving up turnout in Black communities, usually one of the Democrats’ strongest constituencies, is viewed as key to his chances of taking the seat.
Stevens’ last-minute decision to endorse Rogers instead is a wildcard. Star told JTA she believed many “black Christian voters” would follow her lead.
“Their support for Israel needed a boost,” she said. “I believe this endorsement has taken Mike Rogers over the finish line with black voters.”
Yet there are signs that Palestinian rights may be a more animating issue among Michigan’s Black voters this year than in the past. Pro-Palestinian state Rep. Donavan McKinney, a democratic socialist, won his primary challenge against a pro-Israel incumbent in a majority-Black, Detroit-area congressional district in August. And during one Stevens primary campaign stop in Detroit, a Black community organizer directly confronted her over her support for Israel.
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post In Michigan, a Black conservative group pushes Jewish and pro-Israel messaging appeared first on The Forward.
