Connect with us

Uncategorized

For the Republican Jews whose Vegas confab kicked off the 2024 primary, Trump was always present

LAS VEGAS (JTA) — For Republican Jews looking for an alternative to Donald Trump in 2024’s presidential race, Ted Cruz presented a tantalizing choice on Saturday — at least for a few minutes.

“When I arrived in the Senate 10 years ago, I set a goal to be the leading defender of Israel in the United States,” the Texas senator said during his chance to address the Republican Jewish Coalition conference last weekend.

The crowd packed into a ballroom deep in the gold lame reaches of the Venetian casino complex lapped it up in what some of them refer to as the “kosher cattle call,” auditions for some of the GOP’s biggest campaign donors.

Cruz applied his folksy bellow to phrases already rendered stale by the speakers who preceded him, making them seem fresh. “Nancy Pelosi is out of a job,” he said of the Democratic speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives, eliciting more cheers from a crowd relishing a fragile majority in the House, one of few GOP wins during midterm elections earlier this month.

But the onetime constitutional lawyer lost the crowd when he asked everyone to take out their cell phones and text a number associated with his podcast, “Verdict.” As the murmurs graduated into grumbles it became clear: About a third of the 800 or so people in the room were Shabbat-observant Jews, taking texting off the table for them.

Cruz never really recovered his rapport with the audience, which included deep-pocketed donors looking to pick a candidate and rally support for him or her. That made his speech an extreme example of the trajectory of just about every address by prospective presidential hopefuls at the RJC conference — excitement tempered by two nagging questions: Does this candidate have what it takes to beat Trump, whose obsession with litigating the 2020 election helped fuel this year’s electoral losses? And is Trump inevitable whoever challenges him?

The former president was at the center of every presentation and of conversations in the corridors during breaks. On the stage, some folks named him, some did not, but — except for Trump himself during a video address from his Florida home — few did so enthusiastically.

Chris Christie, the former New Jersey governor who was the first of Trump’s primary opponents in 2016 to drop out and endorse him, and then among the first to repudiate him during his presidency, repeated the admonition he made a year ago to move beyond Trump.

Say his name, Christie urged the crowd. “It is time to stop whispering,” he said. “It is time to stop doing the knowing nod, the ‘we can’t talk.’ It’s time to stop being afraid of any one person. It is time to stand up for the principles and the beliefs that we have founded this party on, this country on.” He got big cheers.

Trump was the first candidate to announce for 2024, last week, and so far the only one. But others among the half dozen or so likelys in Las Vegas were clearly signaling a run. Nikki Haley, the former ambassador to the United Nations who is a star among right-wing pro-Israel groups for her successes at the United Nations in marginalizing the Palestinians, all but told the group she was ready.

“A lot of people have asked if I’m going to run for president,” Haley said. “Now that the midterms are over I’ll look at it in a serious way and I’ll have more to say soon.”

The biggest cheers were reserved for Ron DeSantis, the Florida governor who was a bright spot for Republicans on Nov. 8, winning reelection in a landslide. DeSantis listed his pro-Israel bona fides (boycotting Israel boycotters) and his culture wars (taking on Disney after the company protested his “Parents Rights in Education” bill, known among its critics as “Don’t Say Gay”).

The crowd loved it. “The state of Florida is where woke goes to die!” he said to ecstatic cheers.

DeSantis did not once mention Trump; the former president has already targeted him saying whatever success he has he owes to Trump’s endorsement of his 2018 gubernatorial bid and dubbing him “Ron DeSanctimonious.’

Getting the nickname was a clear sign that DeSantis was a formidable opponent, said Fred Zeidman, an RJC board member who has yet to endorse a candidate. “It’s a badge of honor, in that Trump has identified you as a legitimate contender for the presidency,” he said in an interview.

Yet even DeSantis was not a clear Trump successor. The RJC usually heads into campaign-year conferences with a clear idea of which of its board members back which candidates, and then relays the word to Jewish Republicans whom to contact to join a prospective campaign.

That didn’t happen this year, and Trump was the reason. Jewish Republicans are still “shopping” for candidates, Ari Fleischer, the former George W. Bush administration spokesman who is an RJC board member and who also has not endorsed a candidate, said in a gaggle with reporters.

Trump was the elephant in the RJC room, Fleischer said, using the Hebrew word for the animal.

“Donald Trump is the pil in the room. There’s no question about it,” Fleischer said right after Trump spoke. “And he is a former president. He has tremendous strength and you could hear it and feel it with this group, particularly on policy, particularly on the substantive issues that he was able to accomplish in the Middle East. It resonates with many people.”

Trump had earned cheers during his speech as he reviewed the hard-right turn his administration took on Israel policy, moving the embassy to Jerusalem and quitting the Iran nuclear deal, among other measures.

“There are other people, they’re going to look at his style and look at things he’s said, and question if he is too hot to handle,” Fleischer continued.

Trump in his talk at first stuck to a forward-looking script but toward the end of it could not resist repeating his lies about winning the 2020 election. Asked by RJC chairman Norm Coleman how he would expand the Abraham Accords, the normalization agreements he brokered between Israel and four Arab countries, should he be reelected, Trump instead bemoaned the election.

“Well, we had a very disgraceful election,” he said. “We got many millions of votes more than we had in 2016, as you all know, and the result was a disgrace in my opinion, absolute sham and a disgrace.”

It was one of many only-in-Vegas moments at an event that brings together disparate groups, including young secular Jews from university campuses gawking at the glitter, Orthodox Jews lurking at elevators waiting for someone else to push the button so they can get to their rooms, and Christian politicos and their staffers encountering an intensely Jewish environment for the first time.

“Shabbat starts on Friday night and ends on Saturday night,” one young staffer explained to another as they contemplated a “Shabbat Toilet” sign taped to a urinal. “But doesn’t it flush automatically anyway?” asked the other.

South Carolina Sen. Tim Scott, another presumed 2020 hopeful, was the only speaker to decry violent attacks on Jews.

“When I think about my brothers and sisters in the Jewish community, in New York City being attacked on the streets of New York, it is time to rise up on behalf of those citizens,” he said. “Rise up against those folks spreading antisemitism, hate and racism.” He was also the only speaker to praise a Democrat, Nevada Sen. Jacky Rosen, with whom he has launched an African-American Jewish coalition in the Senate.

A couple of contenders who have separated themselves from Trump said his name out loud — but with disdain.

“Trump was saying that we’d be winning so much we’d get tired of winning,” said Larry Hogan, who is ending a second term as the governor of a Democratic state, Maryland, with high ratings. “Well, I’m sick and tired of our party losing. This election last week, I’m even more sick and tired than I was before. This is the third election in a row that we lost and should have won. I say three strikes and you’re out.”

Former Vice President Mike Pence peppered his speech with fond references to Trump and his refusal to heed experienced personnel who counseled an even-handed Middle East policy, a move that Pence and the RJC both believe paid off.

Yet Pence also appeared to condemn Trump’s boldest rejection of norms, his effort to overturn his 2020 loss, which spurred an insurrection at the U.S. Capitol in which Pence’s life was threatened. “The American people must know that our party keeps our oath to the Constitution even when political expediency may suggest that we do otherwise,” Pence said.

One contradiction for those in attendance was the longing for Trump’s combativeness while wanting to shuck themselves of Trump’s baggage.

Typical was Alan Kruglak, a Maryland security systems contractor who said he appreciated the pro-business measures Hogan had introduced in his state but was more interested in a fighter like DeSantis.

“Trump did great things, but I think Trump’s past his time, we need younger blood that is less controversial,” said Kruglak, 68. “Trump needs to hand the baton to somebody younger, and who doesn’t have any baggage associated with them but has the same message of being independent.”

The problem is that insiders said Trump still commands the loyalty of about 30% of the party, and that could be insurmountable in a crowded primary.

Trump, Fleischer said, was inevitable as a finalist but he didn’t have to be inevitable as the nominee.

“If there’s five, six, seven real conservative outsider candidates, Donald Trump will win with a plurality because nobody else will come close,” he said. “If there’s only one or two, it’s a fair fight.”

Who would those one or two be? Fleischer would not say. Among the Republican Jews gathered in Las Vegas, no one would.

—
The post For the Republican Jews whose Vegas confab kicked off the 2024 primary, Trump was always present appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.

Continue Reading
Click to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Uncategorized

Eva Marie Saint was born Quaker, but found her ‘Exodus’ in Jewish stories

Oscar-winning actress Eva Marie Saint, who has died at age 102, preferred mishpocheh to political posturing.

Her stance was akin to that of author Albert Camus, who during a press conference in 1957 after winning the Nobel Prize in Literature, commented on strife in his native Algeria by opining of the terrorism used to liberate the nation from French colonialism, endangering his family still in his homeland: “If that is justice, I prefer my mother.”

Born to a Quaker family in Newark, Saint likely followed that religion’s wartime and immediate postwar concern for the fate of Europe’s Jews. Yet by 1951, when she married the American Jewish television director and producer Jeffrey Hayden (born Raphael Levine), to whom she would remain wed for 65 years, Saint apparently diverged from the official Quaker line.

By that year, previous collaborations between Quakers (officially the Religious Society of Friends) and Jewish communities during the Holocaust were halted by conflicts ensuing from the 1948 Arab-Israeli War. Traditional Quaker pacifism and historical Christian theology which downplayed Jewish presence in the Middle East opposed Israeli nationalist aims.

Eva Marie Saint with co-star Marlon Brando in ‘On the Waterfront.’ Photo by John Springer Collection/Getty Images

Instead, a policy purporting to favor balanced partiality claimed Quaker neutrality between Israeli authorities and Arab populations. Later, intense Quaker advocacy would make observers such as the historian Nancy Gallagher consider that the historic alliance with Jewish organizations was compromised.

Not so with Eva Marie Saint, who won acclaim in such early career explorations of Yiddishkeit as Paddy Chayefsky’s 1954 television production, Middle of the Night, which centered on a romance between Jerry Kingsley, a 53-year-old widowed Jewish garment manufacturer, who falls in love with Betty Prieser, his 24-year-old receptionist.

Nominated for an Emmy for her turn as Betty, Saint played opposite E.G. Marshall, but when the play transferred to Broadway two years later, the veteran of the shmatta trade was played by Edward G. Robinson (born Emanuel Goldenberg) with such heart-wrenching emotion that some theater mavens considered his work to be the single finest performance seen on the modern New York stage.

By then, Saint, replaced on Broadway by Gena Rowlands, had already conquered cinemagoers in Budd Schulberg’s 1954 film On the Waterfront, widely seen as an onscreen argument for betraying fellow Jews by naming names to political authorities. Screenwriter Budd Schulberg and director Elia Kazan had given friendly testimony to the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) during the McCarthy era, decimating the lives and careers of many creative Jews in Hollywood. Among those cited in 1951 by Schulberg as dangerous Communist Party associates were the writer-director Herbert Biberman and screenwriter Albert Maltz. Meanwhile, in speaking to HUAC in 1952, Kazan singled out the writer Clifford Odets; actors Morris Carnovsky and J. Edward Bromberg; and actress Paula Strasberg.

In On the Waterfront, the protagonist played by Marlon Brando was shown breaking a code of silence to testify against mob-controlled union bosses. The result incensed Arthur Miller, who had originally written an unproduced screenplay about corruption on the Brooklyn docks, which Kazan had agreed to direct. At this point, Columbia Pictures head Harry Cohn demanded that the villains be altered from corrupt union bosses to Communists. Miller demurred, left the project, and was replaced by Schulberg. In 1955, Miller’s play A View from the Bridge was considered a response to Schulberg, in which informing was shown to be a destructive betrayal driven by jealousy, rather than noble whistleblowing.

Saint transcended this tzimmes pitting Jew against Jew by delivering an Oscar- winning performance in her first screen role. As the younger sister of a murdered dockworker, Saint demanded justice for her brother’s death and challenged the conscience of the character played by Brando.

Saint was later cast in Otto Preminger’s Exodus, whose overblown and boring nature is best summarized by a legendary historical burn: At a preview of the film in 1960, the Canadian Jewish comedian Mort Sahl rose from his seat and supposedly pleaded, “Otto, let my people go!”

Eva Marie Saint and Paul Newman on the set of ‘Exodus.’ Photo by Getty Images

The film was based on Leon Uris’ melodramatic novel about the founding of the State of Israel, which historians Matthew Silver and Deborah Dash Moore diagnosed as more redolent of shoot-em-up cowboy films than Jewish history. Nevertheless, once again Saint surpassed the limitations of a script given her, as a widowed American nurse toiling in Cyprus with Jewish refugees who becomes enamored of a Palestine-born Haganah leader, Ari Ben Canaan (played by Paul Newman).

Newman’s character tells Saint’s nurse, “I just wanted you to know that I’m a Jew. This is my country,” as Brandeis professor Stephen J. Whitfield notes in American Space, Jewish Time. Shortly afterward, she is seen wearing a khaki uniform and holding a gun, joining her betrothed and other Jews to resist an Arab attack. Film maven Tony Shaw asserted that, during the movie’s production, Saint made it a personal mission to recount to the international press “stories of Israel’s steadfastness” and “democratic spirit.” She also lauded the Jewish State’s “stoicism in the face of constant Arab invasion threats” and, further, spoke of the “opportunities Israeli women had” compared to “their Arab counterparts.”

In less fraught contexts, Saint continually proved that she was a mensch, as recalled by Brooklyn-born actor Bernie Kopell, a mainstay as Dr. Adam Bricker on TV’s The Love Boat.  When the cast of one 1983 episode was temporarily outside the Parthenon in Athens, Kopell stated, Saint saw him studying his lines for a forthcoming stage role and offered her partnership to help him memorize the words. This solidarity from an Oscar-winning actress to a humble Love Boat actor impressed Kopell, but Saint told him with egalitarian zest that she did the same for all her friends.

On a more somber note, Saint’s personal steadfastness and Camus-like preference of family to debates on current events extended to portraying Marilyn Klinghoffer, the widow of Leon Klinghoffer who was murdered by Palestinian terrorists during the sea-jacking of the Italian cruise ship in a 1990 two-part miniseries, Voyage of Terror: The Achille Lauro Affair.

Saint incarnated the resolve of Marilyn Klinghoffer, who although fatally ill, had the fortitude to travel to Italy to testify against the four terrorists after her wheelchair-bound husband was separated from other passengers as a Jew during the 1985 Achille Lauro hijacking, murdered, and thrown overboard. It was a noble and compelling performance, like all of her work during a long acting career inspired by Yiddishkeit.

The post Eva Marie Saint was born Quaker, but found her ‘Exodus’ in Jewish stories appeared first on The Forward.

Continue Reading

Uncategorized

Three years after Oct. 7, survey says Jewish engagement has reached an elevated ‘new normal’

(JTA) — Levels of engagement in Jewish life have risen overall, establishing a “new normal” three years after the Oct. 7, 2023, attacks, according to a survey released Thursday by the Jewish Federations of North America.

Thirty-eight percent of Jewish respondents surveyed by the federation umbrella group in May and June said they had increased their Jewish engagement in some way in the last three years, an increase of 7 percentage points over rates in 2025 yet down from the 43% rate in March 2024, in the months after the attacks. The survey had a margin of error of 1.8 percent.

JFNA researchers say the results demonstrate that this initial spike in engagement — which the organization dubbed “the Surge” — has had a lasting effect, prompting people to deepen their involvement in Jewish life even three years on.

“I think the fact that people are continuing to engage with community during a difficult time is a good thing, and it’s an opportunity for us to meet people’s needs in this moment,” Mimi Kravetz, JFNA’s chief impact and growth officer, told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency ahead of the release of the findings Thursday morning.

The number of “Surgers,” she said, includes Jews who were already engaged but have found ways to become more engaged since the attacks.

Many in the Jewish community feared that Jewish engagement “would continue to decline as we got further out from the events of Oct. 7, and that likely people would return to something like their behavior prior to Oct. 7,”  Kravetz said. “That is usually what happens after a major incident.”

JFNA surveyed more than 2,800 Jews by text message in May and June of this year. Follow-up questions were generated by AI, which Kravetz said allowed researchers to ask open-ended questions about respondents’ relationship to Jewish community and quickly sort the answers by category.

This approach unlocked new insights. A top motivator for Jewish engagement was “social or interpersonal” connections in informal settings, such as Shabbat dinners or personal invitations to Jewish events. And in what seems like an encouraging sign for congregational Jewish life, 65% of Jews who “Surged” were turning to synagogues — though Kravetz noted that not every shul’s membership has grown as a result.

The Chabad-Lubavitch movement, whose adherents place a premium on interpersonal connections and often operate in environments lacking in other Jewish communal infrastructure, was the second-most-popular engagement option.

Jews who had increased their levels of engagement were also more likely to voice support for Israel, the findings said. Ninety-three percent of “Surging” Jews said they were “emotionally attached to Israel,” compared to 51% of Jews whose level of engagement did not change. Additionally, 75% of Jews who grew their engagement agreed that “in general, Israel makes me proud to be Jewish,” compared to 36% who did not “Surge.”

Overall, respondents’ most frequently cited barrier to participation in Jewish life was Israeli politics. Large numbers of Jews said they struggled to connect with Jewish community spaces because they felt misaligned on Israel in one direction or another — data that JFNA said it did not quantify because it came out of the open-ended section of the survey.

The most common complaint, Kravetz said, was that Jews were seeking spaces they thought of as “apolitical.”

Kravetz said that many of those Jews, instead of dropping out of Jewish life, indicated they eventually found communities that aligned better with their values.

“These aren’t people who are walking away,” Kravetz said. “These are people who are leaning into Jewish community and are experiencing this tension. And usually, what we see is people are interested in finding Jewish spaces that meet their needs.”

The challenge for Jewish leaders, Kravetz said, is “to make sure that we have and support that diversity of spaces for people, so that they can find the right space that meets their needs.”

But that diversity has limits, as many prominent Jewish leaders — including heads of JFNA — have also urged Jewish communal spaces to reaffirm a commitment to Zionism at a moment when more and more Jews feel divided on Israel. Some Jewish leaders have explicitly called to reject anti- and non-Zionist Jews.

Kravetz doesn’t see those values as contradictory or damaging to the “Surge.” She pointed to another recent JFNA survey, released earlier this year, querying Jews about their relationship to Zionism.

While that survey found that only a third of American Jews identify as Zionist, it also found that 88% of the same population agree with what has historically been a basic tenet of Zionism: that “Israel has the right to exist as a Jewish, Democratic state.”

“I think being supportive of the premise of Zionism, and in how we define Zionism, is very much aligned with engaging the majority of the Jewish community,” she said.

The post Three years after Oct. 7, survey says Jewish engagement has reached an elevated ‘new normal’ appeared first on The Forward.

Continue Reading

Uncategorized

On Oct. 7, Mamdani spoke in support of Palestinians. A father from Gaza did it better.

On Wednesday in New York City, on the third anniversary of Oct. 7, two people spoke up for Palestinians. One of them was New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani. The other person actually said something helpful.

In a statement from the mayor’s office, Mamdani expressed sorrow at the loss of over 1,100 Israeli lives and Hamas’ “horrific war crimes,” then pivoted to condemn Israel for its war against Hamas in Gaza, accusing Israel of ongoing genocide, war crimes, apartheid and occupation.

Then came the Hallmark-ian ending, “To honor the dead, we must fight for a world in which every person can live with freedom, safety, and dignity.”

It was four paragraphs of blame with a coda of pablum: no vision for a way forward and no idea of how to improve Palestinian lives, much less Israeli ones.

Vision and healing — that is, leadership — came not from the mayor, but from a Palestinian and an Israeli who spoke later that day at a forum uptown.

“It’s my choice to give the children the anger and the pain or to give them a chance” at a future, said Jaser AbuMoussa, a Gazan who suffered unfathomable loss during the recent conflict. “And I will choose the chance every day.”

“Our neighborhood, from Nir Oz to the sea, can be a paradise because of the human factor on both sides of the border, and not because we necessarily love each other,” said Jonathan Dekel-Chen, a member of the ravaged Kibbutz Nir Oz. “You don’t have to agree on everything to get there.”

AbuMoussa and Dekel-Chen appeared on stage together at the 92nd Street Y, speaking across chasms of grief. From the West Coast, I tuned into a livestream of the event, because if Israelis and Palestinians want a secure and just future, it starts not with pain-inducing pronouncements like Mamdani’s, but with painful conversations like this one.

On Oct. 15, 2023, an Israeli airstrike hit AbuMoussa’s home in Khan Younis in Gaza, killing his wife and two of his children, as well as a nephew, sister-in-law and a cousin. A second airstrike killed his mother, sister, uncle, aunt, a niece and a nephew. AbuMoussa, a senior fellow at the Middle East Institute, managed to evacuate with his two surviving children to the United Arab Emirates, where they underwent lifesaving surgeries.

“She was an architect,” he said of his wife, Heba. “She was a novelist. She was a poet, and above all, she was a wife and a mother.”

Hamas terrorists took Dekel-Chen’s son Sagui into Gaza, where he was held for 498 days before his release. Terrorists killed 47 out of 420 kibbutz members and took 76 people hostage, including the Bibas family.

Hamas and Islamic Jihad gunmen “rampaged for nine hours through the kibbutz, destroying everything in their path,” said Dekel-Chen, a historian at Hebrew University and visiting professor at Columbia’s School of International and Public Affairs, which co-sponsored the event. He said he is only alive because he and his wife were on a work trip to the United States at the time.

So many arguments over Oct. 7 turn into comparative victimhood — Mamdani’s statement was an example of that, making sure to emphasize Palestinian loss.

But the Palestinian at the 92nd Street Y didn’t do that.

“To me, suffering is like an absolute value, and we are not here for a competition,” AbuMoussa said.

While on the same day in the same city, the mayor’s statement used the words “genocide,” “apartheid” and “war crimes,” the Gazan father who lost his wife and two of his four children used none of those words.

Both men made it clear that the pain and anger of Oct. 7 and the years that followed are ever-present, a fact of life. But so is the choice of how to channel that anger.

“I will not point it at people,” said AbuMoussa. “I will not point it at Jonathan because he is an Israeli. But I will point it at policies, at leaders, at systems that were invented to kill people.”

While he held Israel responsible for helping to create the catastrophe in Gaza — he pointed out that Israeli attacks have killed 1,400 Palestinians since the ceasefire —  AbuMoussa — again, in contrast to Mamdani — excoriated Hamas. The group corrupted Gaza’s political, economic, social and above all religious life. It cast itself as the only legitimate interpretation of Islam, though AbuMoussa said Oct. 7 itself contravened Islamic law.

Hamas never treated protecting civilians as its job, AbuMoussa said, pointing out that Oct. 7 mastermind Yahya Sinwar’s family went into the tunnels while ordinary Gazans were left out, unprepared.

The Westerners who took to the streets and college campuses in support of resistance hurt Palestinians more than helped them, AbuMoussa said, because they blur Palestinians together with Hamas and the Iranian axis.

These were the very people Mamdani seemed to be pandering to in his statement — who turn Gaza, in AbuMoussa’s words, “into a flag or a pin.”

Dekel-Chen said his harshest critics are often Diaspora Jews who fail to separate what’s good for Israel from the government of Israel.

Because they spent no time trading accusations and blame, both men had plenty of time to discuss their vision for a better future.

Gazans aren’t leaving, despite the Israeli far right’s fantasies, and Israelis aren’t leaving, despite the Islamists’ fantasies, Dekel-Chen said.

It’s the simplest truth, but it carries extra weight when an Israeli Jew who lives a mile from Gaza says it: there are roughly seven million Jews and seven million Arabs between the river and the sea, and no one is going anywhere.

AbuMoussa said he is open to a confederation between Israelis and Palestinians, two states or “whatever.” But Oct. 7 proved the folly of believing the status quo, or just managing the conflict, will bring stability.

The way forward for now, both men said, is to push leaders to carry out the 20-point plan President Donald Trump put forward to help Gaza recover. They agreed that Washington still has the most leverage.

If Gazans had some sort of hope, AbuMoussa said, “I don’t think they will choose Hamas ever.”

Dekel-Chen said the insistence that Hamas fully disarm before any rebuilding “hurts us all.”

“Nothing positive will happen on our side of the border,” Dekel-Chen said, until most Gazans have hope in a post-Hamas future.

That is ultimately why both men decided to speak together — because they recognize what continuing the hatred costs.

“It’s the only way that I know how to honor those that I grieve, and the loss of life on both sides,” Dekel-Chen said.

It was a message, and a conversation that I wish Mamdani had heard in person. Instead, he spent the evening in Union Square, where anti-Israel protesters booed him for appearing with a group called Israelis for Peace.

To his credit, he showed up. But the same constituency the mayor seemed to court that morning turned on him that night, for standing beside actual Israelis calling for peace.

AbuMoussa and Dekel-Chen could have told him: You can stoke division or you can build a future. Choose the future.

 

The post On Oct. 7, Mamdani spoke in support of Palestinians. A father from Gaza did it better. appeared first on The Forward.

Continue Reading

Copyright © 2017 - 2023 Jewish Post & News