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As an American rabbi in King Charles’ court, I’m learning to love the king (in addition to the King)
(JTA) — Perhaps the strangest part was sitting through a Sunday service in the 1,000-year-old nave of St. Albans Cathedral (the longest nave in England!) and hearing the Hebrew Bible (specifically I Kings 1:32-40) read aloudt in English. Maybe stranger yet was hearing part of that passage set to the music of 17th-century maestro George Friedrich Handel! These, and many other oddities, were only a fraction of the wonderful and unusual experiences of being an American-born British rabbi during the first coronation this country has seen in 70 years.
As with the funeral last year of the late Queen Elizabeth, the scale of organization and competence required to pull off such an event is astounding. For a country where it often feels that small-scale bureaucracy can get in the way of day-to-day life, the coronation was, by all accounts, seamless. This of course makes it the exception rather than the rule, as coronations past were often marred by logistical issues, bad luck and sometimes straight-up violence.
It was the coronation of Richard I in 1189 that unleashed anti-Jewish massacres and pogroms across the country and led to the York Massacre in 1190, in which over 150 local Jews killed themselves after being trapped in Clifford’s Tower, which was set ablaze by an angry mob. During that year there were attacks in London, Lynn, Bury St. Edmunds, Stamford, Lincoln, Colchester and others. It was exactly 100 years later, in 1290, that Edward I would expel Jews from England altogether. They wouldn’t return (officially) for 400 years — or get an official apology from the church for 800.
This weekend’s festivities, thankfully, were of a very different caliber. Not only were Jewish communities front and center, but Jews, religious and not, were active and welcome participants in the ceremony in Westminster Abbey. Indeed, despite the ceremony taking place on Shabbat, the United Synagogue (a mainstream Orthodox denomination that accounts for 40-45% of British Jewish synagogue membership) was represented by Rabbi Ephraim Mirvis, who, together with other faith leaders, played a role in greeting the king as he left the church. This was especially unusual as it has long been the position of the United Synagogue that their rabbis and members should not go into churches (much less on Shabbat). In many ways, this demonstrates one of the consistent themes of the coronation: the interruption of normal routine and the continued exceptionalism of the royal family.
Rabbi Adam Zagoria-Moffet stands atop the bell tower of St. Albans Cathedral before Rosh Hashanah in 2020. (Talya Baker)
Judaism is agnostic, at best, about kings. Our own monarchy came about because the people insisted on it, but against the will of the prophet Samuel against the desire of God. Once it was established — a process which involved several civil wars, a lot of bloodshed and the degradation of many historical elements of Israelite society — it did, for a brief time, bring some stability to the fragile confederacy of Israelite tribes. But it was really only the half-century golden era under King Solomon that managed this feat. After him, and ever since, the monarchy has been a source of conflict and violence. While we still hope that a righteous heir of the Davidic monarchy will reappear and take their place as king of Israel, we, famously, are not holding our breath.
Our approach to non-Jewish monarchs is even more complex. Whilst King Charles III was being coronated to the words of our holy texts and being anointed in oil (the ceremony for our monarchs) from the Mount of Olives (in our holy land), we were at the same time reciting a litany of prayers, as we do daily, to remind us (in the words of our prayers): “We have no king but You” (Avinu Malkeinu); “Your kingdom is an everlasting kingdom” (Ashrei); “God is King, God has ruled, God will rule forever (Y’hi Khavod); “God’s kingship is true there is none else” (Aleinu).
These words were chosen by our sages for our prayers in part because they shared the biblical anxiety about monarchs. Halacha, Jewish law, does retain the notion of a king over Israel, but that king is so heavily bound by legislation, it is far from the absolutist monarchies of most of Europe.
However, since 1688 at least, after the brief (and failed) experiment with the notion of divine right of kings, England (and now the United Kingdom) has endorsed the notion of a constitutional monarch — a king or queen who is esteemed, but also bound by the law and by restrictions imposed by the people. In practice, this makes today’s monarchy an awful lot like that of ancient Israel, and very different from historic European monarchies, as well as very different from how Americans and others often see it. After nearly six years living and working on these green isles, I’ve come to appreciate the complexities and absurdities of the British monarchy, and to value the role that the ceremonies play in the collective life of Britons.
Many here are surprised to find that, being a Yankee, I’m not also a republican (an anti-monarchist, in the British context). Indeed, while I have my doubts about the idea of monarchy and while, religiously, there is a strong argument against human authority, the monarchy as it operates in modern Britain is fairly compatible with the idea of kingship as established by halacha — restrained, limited and primarily occupied with being a moral exemplar rather than an authoritarian ruler. Maybe then it shouldn’t be so strange that so much of the ceremonies this weekend were drawn from our texts, and so much of the symbolism referential to our tradition. We can be grateful that King Charles’s coronation, the first in a generation, went off without a hitch and without bloodshed, and with the support and involvement of a diverse representation of Britain’s peoples and faiths.
To the outside, this weekend has likely appeared to be just a lot of pomp and pageantry. No doubt, it is often Americans who are camping out on the Mall in see-through tents or wearing the royal family’s faces as masks in coronation parties — but this American, after more than half a decade here in Britain, can appreciate the depth of the monarchy in ways I couldn’t before. I see both its deep significance and history, its connection to our own tradition (sometimes through appropriation), and its negatives. As a rabbi and a Jew, I will always be of the opinion that there is only one Sovereign who truly rules, but there is something to be said for having a king as well as a King.
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Nearly forbidden: Street signs in an ‘unwanted’ language
דער קינסטלער שעבעשטיען פֿיומײ איז, אײן זוניקן טאָג אין פֿרילינג 2021, געשטיגן אױף אַ לײטער און אױפֿגעהאָנגען אַ װײַסן גאַסנשילד מיט ייִדישע אותיות׃ „גרענאַדיערשטראַסע“. װען נישט דעם אַלף־בית װאָלט פֿיומײס קונסטװערק געװען אַ צװילינג מיטן אָפֿיציעלן שילד דעריבער, װאָס װײַזט אין גלחות דעם הײַנטיקן נאָמען פֿון דער גאַס אין צענטער בערלין׃ „Almstadtstraße“.
גרענאַדירשטראַסע איז ביז 1938 געװען די באַרימטסטע „ייִדישע גאַס“ אין דער שטאָט, ספּעציעל בײַ ייִדיש־רעדערס. דער דײַטשמערישער אױסלײג מיטן שטומען „ע“ שטאַמט פֿון אַ ייִדישן שילד װאָס מ׳האָט אַ מאָל אַרױסגעהאָנגען אױף נומער 31, פֿאַרן „האָטעל אָדלער“.
אין אָט דעם איבערגעפּאַקטן בנין האָט מען נישט נאָר געקענט אײַנשטײן אין אַ פּיצל האָטעל, נאָר אױך קױפֿן גרינסן אין אַ שפּײַזקראָם, עסן אין אַ כּשרן רעסטאָראַן, לערנען חומש אין אַ תּלמוד־תּורה, לערנען גמרא אין אַ בית־מדרש – און דאַװענען אין אַזש פֿיר שטיבלעך!
פֿיומײס אומלעגאַלן גאַסנשילד האָט די נאַטשאַלסטװע גיך אַראָפּגענומען. אַ פֿונקציאָנאַר פֿון קװאַרטאַל־אַמט, נתּן פֿרידנבערג, איז אָבער מסכּים געװען מיט פֿיומיין אַז מע דאַרף סוף־כּל־סוף אָנערקענען די קולטורעל ייִדישע „אָסטיודן“ (די אַמאָליקע מיזרח־אייראָפּעיִשע ייִדן), נישט נאָר די אַסימילירטע „יעקעס“. און מע דאַרף געדענקען ווי ייִדן האָבן געלעבט, נישט בלויז ווי זיי זענען אומגעקומען. צוזאַמען מיט אַ היסטאָריקער פֿון „צענטרום יודאַיִקום“, דזשעס ערל, האָט פֿרידנבערג געפּרוּװט אָרגאַניזירן אַן ענלעכן זכּרון־שילד. נײן, צען אַזעלכע – אױף צען שכנותדיקע „ייִדישע גאַסן“.
ס׳איז נישט געװען פּשוט. דער װײַסער קאָליר, װי בײַ די „װאָרע“ גאַסנשילדן? פֿאַרבאָטן. דאָס װאָרט „שילד“? פֿאַרבאָטן. דאָס װאָרט „קונסט“? פֿאַרבאָטן אָן אַ קונסט־פֿאַרמעסט. ייִדיש גופֿא איז שיִער נישט פֿאַרבאָטן, װײַל אין דײַטשלאַנד איז דאָס נישט קײן אָנערקענטע מינאָריטעט־שפּראַך.
נאָך פֿינף יאָר מיט אַפּליקאַציעס און קאָמפּראָמיסן האָבן ערל און פֿרידנבערג אין מאַרץ אָרגאַניזירט אַ „פּרעסע־טערמין“ אױפֿן ראָג. די שלײער איז כאָטש אײן מאָל אַראָפּגעפֿאַלן אין װינט אײדער מע האָט אָפֿיציעל אױפֿגעדעקט דעם ערשטן „גאַסנצײכן“, װאָס מע טאָר נישט אָנרופֿן קײן גאַסנשילד׃ „גרענאַדיערשטראַסע“ אין אַ נײַער שריפֿט מיט פֿיומײס אױסלײג אױף אַ בלאָען הינטערגרונט. אַ צװײטער „צײכן“ דערקלערט דעם װיץ אױף דײַטש און ענגליש; אַ קו־אַר־קאָד פֿאַרלינקט אַ נײַ באַלערנדיק װעבזײַטל מיטן קעפּל „נעלם געװאָרן אָן אַ שפּור?“
צװישן די בערך 30 צוקוקערס – אַרײַנגערעכנט פּאָליטיקערס און רבנים – זענען כאָטש פֿיר ייִדישיסטן געװען אין עולם׃ אַ ייִדיש־פּאָעטעסע, אַ ייִדיש־קינסטלער, אַ ייִדיש־פֿאָרשערין און אַ געװעזענע ייִדיש־פּראָפֿעסאָרשע. אַלע האָבן זיך געפֿרייט צו זען די ייִדישע אותיות אױף דער אַלטער ייִדישער גאַס. בײַ דער טריבונע האָט מען אָבער נישט געהערט קײן וואָרט ייִדיש.
„אַװדאי נישט“, האָט מיר דזשעס ערל געזאָגט אָן חרטה. „די שפּראַך איז נישט דער עיקר. מע דערמאָנט זי בלױז װען ס׳איז טאַקע נײטיק.“ אױפֿן ענגלישן װעבזײַטל געפֿינט מען דאָס װאָרט Yiddish ערשט האַרט בײַם סוף פֿון אַלפֿאַבעטישן גלאָסאַר. נתּן פֿרידנבערג, להיפּוך, האָט געבעטן מחילה און צוגעזאָגט צו באַטײליקן ייִדיש־רעדערס אין צוקונפֿטיקע אונטערנעמונגען.
װער אָדער װאָס איז נעלם געװאָרן? רובֿ ייִדן אין הײַנטיקן דײַטשלאַנד זענען אימיגראַנטן פֿון מיזרח־אײראָפּע אָדער זײערע קינדער. די ייִדיש־זינגערין סאַשע לוריא, למשל, אַ געבױרענע פֿון לעטלאַנד, האָט זיך באַזעצט אין נױקעלן, אַ בערלינער אימיגראַנטן־קװאַרטאַל אַזױ װי די ייִדישע גאַס פֿון אַ מאָל. דאָרט האָט זי מיט די חבֿרים אױפֿגעבױט אַ באַלעבטע ייִדיש־מוזיק־סבֿיבֿה. „איך פֿיל זיך פֿאַרבונדן מיט די אַמאָליקע ייִדן פֿון אָט די גאַסן“, זאָגט לוריא. „זײ דערמאָנען מיך אין מײַנע קרובֿים.“
די סבֿיבֿה אין נױקעלן האָט דערפֿירט צום גרינדן אַ קולטור־אָרגאַניזאַציע, „שטעטל בערלין“, מיט כּסדרדיקע פּראָגראַמען און אַ יערלעכן פֿעסטיװאַל. אױך די פּאָעזיע־ און קונסט־סבֿיבֿה אַרום „ייִדיש.בערלין“ איז פֿיבעריש־פֿלײַסיק. (איך אַרבעט צוזאַמען מיט בײדע גרופּעס.) אין מאַרץ למשל זענען אין דער שטאָט פֿאָרגעקומען אַ כּליזמר־דזשעם־סעסיע; אַ שבת־טיש מיט פֿריש פּובליקירטע ייִדישע לידער; אַ ייִדיש־זינגערײַ; קאָנצערטן פֿון כאָטש דרײַ קאַפּעליעס; אַן אָװנט פֿון „שמועס און װײַן“ — אַ ייִדישער שמועסקרײַז אין אַ שענק; אַ רובריק װוּ ייִדיש־פּאָעטעסעס לײענען די ווערק פון אַנדערע ייִדיש־פּאָעטעסעס; װײַטערע לײען־ און שרײַבקרײַזן…
„אונדזער סבֿיבֿה האַלט אין װאַקסן“, זאָגט לוריא. „אַלץ עפֿטער הערט מען בײַ אונדזערע אונטערנעמונגען אויך שמועסן אויף ייִדיש.“
נישט אַלע „װאָרע“ גאַסנשילדן אין דײַטשלאַנד זענען בלױז אויף דײַטש. סוף מאַרץ בין איך מיט אַ געדונגענעם אױטאָ געפֿאָרן אָנדערטהאַלבן שעה קײן לאַוזיץ/לוזשיסקאַ, אַ ראַיאָן פֿון דײַטשלאַנד װוּ מע רעדט צװײ אָנערקענטע סלאַװישע מינאָריטעט־שפּראַכן׃ אונטער־סאָרביש (װענדיש) און אױבער־סאָרביש. אַרױספֿאָרנדיק פֿון שאָסײ האָב איך דערזען אַ שילד פֿאַר אַ דאָרף מיט צװײ נעמען, אַ דײַטשן און אַ סאָרבישן. אױך אַלע גאַסן האָבן צװײ נעמען. אָבער הערן האָב איך דעם גאַנצן סוף־װאָך אין ערגעץ נישט געהערט קײן סאָרביש װאָרט – ביז מיר זענען אַרײַן אין װענדישן מוזיי אין קאָטבוס/כעשעבוס.
במשך פֿון דער געשיכטע האָט דײַטשלאַנד אונטערגעדריקט די סאָרבישע שפּראַכן. פּרײַסן האָט אַרױפֿגעצװוּנגען אױף די סאָרבן דײַטשע נעמען. די נאַציס י״ש האָבן פֿאַרבאָטן פּובליקאַציעס און פֿאַרטריבן די גלחים כּדי צו פֿאַרדײַטשן די קלױסטערס. מיזרח־דײַטשלאַנד האָט באַזעצט דײַטש־רעדנדיקע פּליטים אין סאָרבישע דערפֿער און צונױפֿגעמישט די אַרבעטערס אין קאָלװירטן. עד־היום האָט מען חרובֿ געמאַכט 130 סאָרבישע דערפֿער לטובֿת די קױלנגריבער.
די ראָלע פֿון דײַטשלאַנד אין דער געשיכטע פֿון ייִדיש – דאָס מאַמע־לשון פֿון 85% פֿון די קדושים – קענען מיר שױן.
אונטער־סאָרביש האָבן סאָרבן אױפֿגעהערט איבערצוגעבן בירושה; אױבער־סאָרביש הערט מען נאָך בײַ געצײלטע קאַטױלישע משפּחות. פֿאַר בײדע שװעסטער־שפּראַכן האָט מען שוין אָבער דורכגעפֿירט ממשותדיקע צילן אויפֿצולעבן דאָס לשון׃ ביזן יאָר 2100 האָפֿט מען, אַז עס וועלן זײַן אַזש 100,000 סאָרביש־רעדערס!
הײַנט האָט דאָס סאָרבישע פֿאָלק מיט זײַנע צװײ לשונות געוויסע רעכט און דעריבער — געלט און אינסטיטוציעס. פֿאַראַן אַ מין סאָרבישער ייִװאָ (װאָס בײַט גערן דעם אױסלײג פֿון סאָרביש); צװײ קינסטלער־קאָלעקטיװן („קאָלעקטיװ.װאַקוּום“ און „נײַע סאָרבישע קונסט“), קאַפּעליעס, קינדער־גערטנער, אײַנטונק־פּראָגראַמען, אַ פֿאַרלאַג, צװײ מיטלשולן, און באַצאָלטע אַרבעט…
דער סאָרבישער ייִװאָ האָט אָנגעשטעלט צװײ לינגװיסטן, שימאָן בלום און עװאַן בליקלי, צו דאָקומענטירן די „לינגװיסטישע לאַנדשאַפֿט“. אױף זײערע ביציקלען האָבן זײ פֿאָטאָגראַפֿירט יעדן סאָרבישן גאַסנשילד אין 70 דערפֿער. „װען איך האָב צום ערשטן מאָל דערהערט קינדער רעדנדיק אױפֿן לשון“, דערצײלט בליקלי, „האָב איך זיך כּמעט צעװײנט.“
דער סאָרבישער קינסטלער בערנהאַרד שיפּער האָט מיר געזאָגט אַז די שילדן זענען אים „גאָר װיכטיק“. אַזױ װײס מען אַז ס׳איז דאָס סאָרבישע געביט. „דאָס פֿאַרשטײט זיך אַלײן.“
די סאָרבישע שילדן האָבן אױך אינספּירירט מיעטאָ נאָאַק, דעם אַמאָליקן פֿאָרזיץ פֿונעם מינאָריטעטן־סעקרעטאַריאַט װאָס פֿאַרטײדיקט אַלע זיבן דײַטשע מינאָריטעט־שפּראַכן. קינדװײַז האָט ער אַ מאָל באַמערקט אַזאַ שילד, און שפּעטער זיך אױסגעלערנט אונטער־סאָרביש און געװאָרן אַ שפּראַך־אַקטיװיסט.
אין זײַן ענטפֿער אױף מײַן בקשה האָט נאָאַק געשריבן׃ „כ׳האָב זיך שױן אָפֿט געפֿרעגט פֿאַרװאָס ייִדיש איז נישט קײן מינאָריטעט־שפּראַך אין דײַטשלאַנד. אין אַכט אײראָפּעיִשע לענדער איז עס יאָ אַזוי.“
אױף אַ שפּאַציר לענג־אױס גרענאַדירשטראַסע האָב איך דערצײלט נאָאַקן מעשׂיות פֿונעם ייִדישן אַמאָל און דעם ייִדישיסטישן הײַנט. האָבן מיר זיך אַװעקגעזעצט בײַ אַ קאַפֿע לעבן דעם שילד. קוקנדיק אױף די פֿאַרבײַגײערס האָט ער פֿאַר מיר אַנטפּלעקט די סודות פֿון מינאָריטעט־שפּראַכן און באַשלאָסן צו שרײַבן אַן אײגענעם אַרטיקל װעגן די ייִדיש־שילדן – אױף אונטער־סאָרביש.
אַגבֿ, אין פֿרילינג 2021 האָט פֿיומײ נישט נאָר אונטערגענומען זײַן קינסטלערישע אינטערװענציע. ער האָט אױך מיט זײַן מיטװױנערין עליאַנאַ דזשײקאָבס לאַנסירט אַ פּאָליטישע קאַמפּאַניע לטובֿת ייִדיש װי די אַכטע מינאָריטעט־שפּראַך פֿון דײַטשלאַנד. די לעצטע מעלדונג אויפֿן אינפֿאָרמאַטיװן פֿייסבוק־זײַטל לכּבֿוד דעם דאָזיקן אויפֿרוף שטאַמט פֿון יענעם אָקטאָבער, נאָר די צען נײַע שילדן האָבן באַנײַט די דיסקוסיע.
„לאָמיר פֿאָרט אויפֿלעבן די קאַמפאַניע!“ האָט מיר דזשייקאָבס געזאָגט.
„ס׳איז אַ גאַנץ רעאַליסטישער געדאַנק“, האָט סאַשע לוריא מסכּים געווען.
הייסט עס, אין לעצטן סך־הכּל, איז ייִדיש אין בערלין טאַקע נישט נעלם געװאָרן.
The post Nearly forbidden: Street signs in an ‘unwanted’ language appeared first on The Forward.
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The ‘godfather of denim’ was an Italian designer whose Jewish father was murdered at Auschwitz
(JTA) — Adriano Goldschmied became known as the “godfather of denim” for elevating jeans from casual wear to a luxury staple. His own father’s story was equally riveting.
Goldschmied, who died April 5 at 82, following a battle with cancer in a hospital in Castelfranco Veneto, Italy, credited himself with founding or developing at least 50 brands, including Diesel, AG, Replay, Gap 1969, A Golde and Goldsign.
He was just an infant in 1944 when his Italian Jewish father was arrested by the Nazis.
Goldschmied’s mother, Sofia, was in hiding with his sister at the time of his birth on Nov. 29, 1943, in Vico Canavese, Italy. The Nazis had invaded Italy just months earlier.
His father, Livio, had joined the Italian resistance after the Nazis took over. When he tried to visit his wife, daughter and newborn son, he was apprehended en route. One of six people with his last name deported by the Nazis via Milan’s central station, he was ultimately sent to Auschwitz, where he was killed several months later.
According to a testimony made by a survivor to Yad Vashem, Israel’s Holocaust center, Livio was denounced by a midwife and received permission to visit his son briefly after his arrest. The testimony, which cannot be independently verified, said he had rejected an offer to move to the United States to work with the physicist Enrico Fermi because he would not have been able to bring his family, and had also declined an opportunity to escape from the train that took him to Auschwitz.
Following the war, Goldschmied moved with his mother to Trieste. He later spent a stint pursuing skiing in the 1960s in Cortina, the ski resort in the Southern Alps.
He did not speak readily about his family’s Holocaust history, and unlike his sister, he did not connect with his Jewish heritage. Diana was responsible for installing Stolpersteine, small memorials embedded in sidewalks documenting the Jews who lived at that address before the Holocaust, to commemorate their family members who were murdered.
“Like my father, my brother was a man of great intelligence and extraordinary intuition,” Diana told the Italian-Jewish news outlet Moked. “However, he did not want to talk about our family history. I think memory was working inside him, though.”
Goldschmied got his start in fashion in the 1970s, when he launched his shop, King’s Shop, in Cortina d’Ampezzo, and started a denim line, Daily Blue.
“That first production was going to a fabric store in my hometown, buying crazy fabrics for a very high price and going through manufacturing with my tailor,” Goldschmied told Women’s Wear Daily in 2023. “The product was extremely expensive, and in some way, I created a premium denim by accident.”
In 1981, Goldschmied went on to found the Genius Group, a collective that backed emerging labels like Diesel, Replay and Goldie.
Among Goldschmied’s innovations throughout his career were the development of the stonewash technique, experimenting with Tencel fibers, creating super-stretch denim and pioneering sustainable production methods as early as the 1990s.
“He was the architect of a global staple,” Mariette Hoitink, the co-founder of House of Denim, told Women’s Wear Daily. “Adriano didn’t just design jeans; he orchestrated the greatest transformation in the history of apparel. He was the singular force who elevated denim from rugged workwear into a global fashion staple.”
Goldschmied is survived by his wife, Michela; his daughters Sara, Marta and Glenda; two grandchildren; and his sister.
“Adriano and I led very separate lives,” Diana told Moked. “I rediscovered my Jewish identity. He took a different path, but everyone carries the past within them.”
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post The ‘godfather of denim’ was an Italian designer whose Jewish father was murdered at Auschwitz appeared first on The Forward.
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Not Stupidity — Something Worse: Why the ‘Israel Controls America’ Myth Keeps Spreading
US President Joe Biden and Democratic presidential candidate and US Vice President Kamala Harris react onstage at the Democratic National Convention (DNC) in Chicago, Illinois, US, Aug. 19, 2024. Photo: REUTERS/Kevin Lamarque
In a recent post, Donald Trump took aim at Tucker Carlson, Megyn Kelly, Candace Owens, and Joe Kent, calling them “low IQ” and “losers,” and asking — between Carlson and Kent — “who is dumber?”
It was vintage Trump: blunt, theatrical, and calibrated to dominate a news cycle with a single line. He has long relied on that instinct — to compress a dispute into something sharp enough to stick. But beneath the spectacle sits a more serious issue.
The problem is not intelligence. Many of these figures are clearly relatively smart. The problem is that they — along with a growing chorus of voices on the political left such as Ana Kasparian, Cenk Uygur, and Mehdi Hasan — continue to advance a claim that collapses under minimal scrutiny. Strip away the stylistic differences, the accents, and the partisan framing, and the argument is identical: “Israel controls the United States,” or in its updated form, “Benjamin Netanyahu controls Donald Trump.”
That claim has resurfaced repeatedly over the years, sometimes dressed in more sophisticated language, sometimes stated outright. What makes its latest iteration notable is not merely its persistence, but where it is now being voiced.
This weekend, Kamala Harris, speaking at a Democratic fundraiser in Detroit, said that Donald Trump had been “pulled into this war” by Benjamin Netanyahu. That phrasing carries a clear implication: that the president of the United States — the commander-in-chief of the most powerful military in the world — is not acting independently but is being maneuvered into conflict by a foreign (Jewish) leader.
When this idea circulates on the fringes, it is dismissed. When amplified by pundits chasing attention, it’s often ignored. But when it’s echoed, even cautiously, by a former vice president and major presidential candidate, it crosses a different threshold. At that point, the claim can no longer be dismissed as noise. It has been normalized.
This is not a new idea. It is one of the oldest political accusations in circulation, and it is remarkably easy to test against reality. Only last week, Trump effectively dictated that Israel must accept a temporary ceasefire with Hezbollah — an outcome widely opposed within Israel, where many believe the campaign should be completed and remain skeptical that the Lebanese state will ever disarm Hezbollah. If Israel were directing American policy, that outcome would not occur.
Historically, the “Israel controls America” claim has appeared in different ideological forms but with identical substance. On the far-right, figures such as David Duke have advanced it explicitly. On the far-left, figures like Cynthia McKinney have repackaged it in political language. The wording changes, but the core allegation remains the same: that American power is not sovereign, but subject to external — specifically Jewish — control, echoing Henry Ford and his “International Jew” conspiracy theories of the 1920s and 1930s.
The argument collapses as soon as one examines scale and structure. The United States is a $27 trillion economy with unmatched global reach across military, financial, technological, and diplomatic domains. It maintains a permanent seat on the UN Security Council and leads a network of alliances that spans continents. Israel’s economy, by contrast, is approximately $700 billion. Its military is highly capable, but it is not a global force. It does not control sea lanes, command multinational coalitions, or set the terms of global finance. The disparity is not marginal; it is foundational.
This asymmetry is not unique. The United States maintains deep strategic relationships with many smaller allies such as South Korea, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, and Kuwait. In fact, the United States fought a war to liberate Kuwait in 1991, sustaining approximately 150 American combat fatalities in the process. Yet, almost no one claims Kuwait controls Washington, or that Saudi Arabia dictates US foreign policy. Only one small ally is routinely described in those terms.
The historical record reinforces the absurdity of this Israel “controls” America trope.
In 1956, despite repeated attacks on Israel from the Sinai and Egypt-controlled Gaza, Dwight D. Eisenhower forced Israel to withdraw from Sinai following the Suez Crisis; Israel complied. In 1982, Ronald Reagan pressured Israel to halt operations in Beirut, facilitating the evacuation of Yasser Arafat and the PLO leadership to Tunisia. In 1991, George H. W. Bush asked Israel not to respond to Iraqi Scud missile attacks to help preserve the US-led coalition; Israel absorbed 39 Scud strikes, 13 deaths, and stood down.
In 2015, Barack Obama advanced the Iran nuclear deal despite sustained Israeli opposition. Under Joe Biden, Israeli operations in Rafah were delayed for months under US pressure despite Israeli hostages being held there and its centrality to Hamas’ military infrastructure.
More recently, on June 24, 2025, as a Trump-negotiated ceasefire was taking effect, Iran launched multiple ballistic missiles at Beersheba, killing four Israelis. Israel prepared a large retaliatory strike. Trump intervened and effectively ordered Israel to turn its planes around.
This is what an unequal alliance looks like: coordination, pressure, and at times outright constraint. It is not a relationship where the far smaller country exercises “control.”
So why does the claim persist? Not because it is analytically persuasive — but because it is emotionally effective. Political narratives built on grievance often prefer simple explanations to complex realities.
It is easier to attribute outcomes to hidden manipulation than to acknowledge the interplay of strategic interests, risks, and constraints that define foreign policy decision-making.
There is also a deeper historical layer. For centuries, European political culture absorbed and transmitted variations of the same vile accusation: that Jews operate behind the scenes, exercising covert and pernicious influence over institutions and leaders.
So, when modern commentators repackage that idea — whether in the language of “influence,” “lobbying,” or outright “control” — it does not enter a neutral environment. It lands on fertile soil, reinforcing a long-established and familiar narrative.
Since World War II, the claim hasn’t changed — only its migration from the margins into the mainstream. And once it crosses that threshold, it stops being rhetoric and starts shaping behavior.
As it did in Germany after World War I, if a significant number of people come to believe that their government has been captured, that their leaders are not acting independently but are controlled by a nefarious external force, the range of conclusions and actions they will justify or rationalize expands dramatically. History offers no shortage of examples of where that logic can lead.
Trump attempted to reduce this to a punchline. But this is not a matter of tone. It is a warning sign. And this time, it is coming from closer to the political center than it has in a very long time.
Micha Danzig is an attorney, former IDF soldier, and former NYPD officer. He writes widely on Israel, Zionism, antisemitism, and Jewish history. He serves on the board of Herut North America.