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This Jewish New York City Council candidate has a prolific passion: serial sperm donation
(New York Jewish Week) — Jonathan David Rinaldi, 44, is a Republican who is running to represent New York’s District 24, which encompasses the Queens neighborhoods of Kew Gardens, Fresh Meadows, Briarwood and Jamaica. This week, he made headlines for protesting outside a motel in his district that, he claimed, was housing newly arrived migrants.
But last November, he gained local fame for a different reason. Rinaldi was featured in a post on Humans of New York, the viral social media project in which photographer Brandon Stanton posts portraits of New Yorkers he meets on the street, along with stories they relate in their own voices.
Rinaldi’s story was particularly eyebrow-raising: He said he had fathered at least 12 children over the course of two years through sperm donation — but not via sperm banks that pay donors, vet their health and limit their offspring. And he said he planned to keep going, in part because of his Jewish identity.
He said he was driven in part by his Jewish identity. “I explain to each [woman]: ‘This child will be born into a larger family. I have eighteen other children.’” Rinaldi said in the caption. “I’d like as many as God will give me. Why put your entire bloodline into one child when you can spread it out? Eighteen is a holy number in Judaism. And the next one is 36, so I’ll reassess then.”
In the Humans of New York post, Rinaldi detailed the process (“Fresh is better than frozen”) and said that he’s had sex with some of the women and wants to remain involved in their lives. “I’m what they call a ‘known donor,’” he said. “Everything is kinda handshake. I don’t charge the mothers. And they don’t expect any financial support.”
The post garnered a string of negative reactions from social media users. In response, Stanton wrote on Instagram that “stories from people you may not identify with, or even like, were a common part of HONY pre-pandemic. And will be again now that I’m back on the street.”
The post did not identify Rinaldi, but he confirmed to the New York Jewish Week over the phone that he was the person in the portrait and post. “I was interviewed once,” Rinaldi said. “It was taken out of context. I had a long conversation, a random conversation with somebody on the street.”
Rinaldi also confirmed that he donates his sperm — and has attempted to square that practice with Jewish tradition. He said that he has spoken with a rabbi to “try and figure out how to be as kosher as I possibly can and have as many children as the Bible commands,” and gave the name of a local Chabad rabbi. The rabbi declined to comment about Rinaldi but confirmed their relationship.
“It’s our responsibility as Jews blessed by God to have children,” said Rinaldi, who also has three children from a previous marriage. “Some of us are doing it extremely kosher, the way it’s supposed to be, you have a nice Jewish wife, you go to temple every day. For me, it didn’t work out that way.”
The Torah contains the commandment to “be fruitful and multiply,” which rabbis have traditionally interpreted as an imperative to have children. Rabbis have prohibited sperm donation, however, in part due to prohibitions on masturbation and on having children with an unknown father. Rabbi Moshe Feinstein, a leading 20th-century authority, wrote that it’s preferable for Jewish women who cannot use their husband’s sperm to use non-Jewish sperm for artificial insemination in order to avoid accidental incest in future generations.
Rinaldi said that he began donating sperm when the city was locked down due to the spread of COVID-19, and that he first donated to a friend. From there, he said, word spread of his donations. Rinaldi is what is called a “known donor,” or someone whose identity is known to the recipient and, potentially, their children. Known donors are legal in the United States, but serial sperm donation is discouraged by many countries, in large part because of the risk of biologically related offspring procreating together in the future. The Netherlands set up systems to curb a serial donor who fathered at least 100 children, while Israel barred an American Jewish man dubbed “the Sperminator” because of his extensive efforts to procreate from impregnating more women there. Ari Nagel’s own progeny tally neared 100 after a prolific pandemic, he revealed in 2021.
Rinaldi, too, said the pandemic had spurred his donations.
“At no point did I ever go to a sperm bank,” Rinaldi said. “At no point did I ever intend to do this. We were all at home, shut down. A lot of people desired families. This is not your typical sperm donor situation. … I was just blessed to even have the opportunity. I didn’t do it for money. I didn’t ask for anything. I just wanted to help families.”
He wouldn’t confirm how many children he has through sperm donation, though in the Humans of New York caption, he’s quoted as saying he had fathered 12 over the previous two years — and, at the time, three more were on the way. In an interview Wednesday with the New York Jewish Week, he responded to a question about how many children he has by repeating an idea he had alluded to in the caption: that according to Jewish tradition, the number 18 represents life.
“Eighteen is a holy number,” Rinaldi said in the interview. “It’s just what God has blessed me with. I’m doing this because I don’t believe in abortion. I am pro-life.”
Opposing abortion isn’t the only right-wing position Rinaldi holds. In an interview, he railed against the COVID-19 vaccine and compared vaccine requirements to the persecution of Jews during the Holocaust, a common line of criticism at the time. “You could have just worn a yellow unvaccinated star on your shirt,” he said, adding, “We were literally one thing away from them coming up to rounding up the unvaccinated.” He also said transgender people are “against Torah principles” and said schools are “not teaching kids God.”
On Tuesday, he and a group of Republican activists showed up at a Kew Gardens motel to protest migrants coming to the city, even though a lawyer for the motel said the owner is “not interested in signing a contract” to house migrants.
In District 24, Rinaldi will run against Democratic Council member Jim Gennaro, who has represented the district for more than a decade.
Rinaldi, who grew up in New York City, said his grandmother escaped Poland to Argentina during World War II. His grandfather also left Moldova at the time. Although both countries were occupied by the Nazis or their allies, Rinaldi said his grandparents were “against the tyranny of the left at that time.”
Rinaldi said he studied for his bar mitzvah at Yeshivas Ohr HaChaim, an Orthodox institution in Kew Gardens, and attended City College of New York in uptown Manhattan where he studied architecture, which is also reflected on a LinkedIn page that appears to belong to him.
He later worked in construction and design for over a decade and appeared on the HGTV reality television show “Million Dollar Contractor.”
When it comes to his sperm donation, however, Rinaldi is less comfortable being in the public eye, despite the Humans of New York post. “My lifestyle is nobody’s business,” he said.
“I am what it looks like when you don’t abort children,” Rinaldi said. “Let’s just focus on the issues if we can. I’m going to do the right thing for the community. My personal business is my personal business.”
Back in the Humans of New York post, Rinaldi suggested that he hoped to expand his personal business. He mused about practices that Jewish tradition has, for the past millennium, frowned upon: “My ultimate goal is to find two or three of the mothers who will be sister wives, because I’m gonna need help with all this,” he said. “But I know one thing: It will never be boring.”
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The post This Jewish New York City Council candidate has a prolific passion: serial sperm donation appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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Israel and the Impossible Standard of Moral Perfection
Jewish visitors gesture as Israeli security forces secure the area at the compound that houses Al-Aqsa Mosque, known to Muslims as Noble Sanctuary and to Jews as Temple Mount, in Jerusalem’s Old City, Photo: May 5, 2022. REUTERS/Ammar Awad
There is a standard applied to Israel that no other nation is expected to meet. It is not a standard of law, nor of morality as commonly understood. It is something far more rigid and far less honest. It demands perfection in the face of existential threats, and even then, it delivers condemnation.
As the conflict with Iran intensifies, Israel finds itself navigating a reality few countries have ever faced.
Iran has made its intentions unmistakably clear for decades. The destruction of Israel is not rhetoric for domestic consumption. It is official Iranian policy. It is repeated openly, consistently, and without apology.
When Iran strikes, it does not distinguish between civilian and military targets. In fact, it purposefully targets civilians. And it doesn’t only target Jews. Rockets do not ask who is religious or secular, Jewish or Muslim, Israeli or Arab. They fall where they are aimed, and often where they are not, with one purpose in mind: to kill, to terrorize, and to destabilize.
Israel, in contrast, is forced to think not only about survival, but about responsibility. This includes responsibility toward all of its citizens: Jewish, Muslim, Christian, Druze. The diversity of Israeli society is often overlooked, but in moments of crisis, it becomes impossible to ignore. Protection must extend to everyone, without exception.
That is why restrictions on public gatherings were imposed. Not as a political statement, but as a practical necessity. In wartime, large crowds are not just gatherings. They are potential mass casualty events waiting for a single missile.
Yet when Israel extended these restrictions during Ramadan, including closing access to major religious sites, the response was immediate outrage. The accusation was predictable: Religious discrimination. Oppression. A supposed targeting of Muslim worshippers.
The reality was different. The restrictions applied across the board. Muslims were not permitted at the Al-Aqsa Mosque. Christians were not permitted at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Jews were not permitted at the Western Wall or the Mount of Olives. This was not selective enforcement. It was a universal policy driven by security concerns.
But nuance rarely survives in the modern information environment.
Within hours, a simplified narrative took hold. Israel was once again cast as the aggressor, the oppressor, the state that denies religious freedom. The broader context disappeared. The ongoing threat, the indiscriminate nature of incoming attacks, the responsibility to prevent mass casualties, all of it was pushed aside.
Then, almost as if to underline the point, a rocket landed near Jerusalem’s Old City that very same day. It was a stark reminder of what was at stake. Had thousands gathered as they normally would, the consequences could have been devastating.
And yet, even that reality does not shift the narrative.
This is the dilemma Israel faces repeatedly. If it acts to prevent harm, it is accused of repression. If it refrains and harm occurs, it is blamed for negligence. There is no decision that escapes criticism, because the criticism is not rooted in the decision itself. It is rooted in a predetermined judgment against a state run by Jews.
Another example illustrates this pattern with uncomfortable clarity. A toddler was found approaching the Israeli border alone. In any other context, this would be seen for what it is. A child placed in danger, likely as part of a calculated attempt to provoke a reaction.
Israeli soldiers responded not with force, but with care. They ensured the child’s safety, provided food and water, and transferred him to the Red Cross. Evidence showed the child was unharmed at the time of transfer.
Yet the story that followed claimed abuse. Allegations of injuries surfaced, contradicting the available evidence. The facts did not matter. The narrative had already taken shape.
This is not simply misinformation. It is a pattern of interpretation that assumes guilt regardless of evidence.
As Easter approaches, restrictions on religious gatherings once again draw criticism. Clergy voice frustration. Observers condemn the limitations. But the fundamental question remains unanswered: What is the acceptable level of risk? How many lives can be gambled in the name of normalcy?
Israel does not have the luxury of abstract debates. Its decisions carry immediate consequences measured in human lives. That reality forces choices that are imperfect, often unpopular, and always scrutinized.
The tragedy is not only in the conflict itself, but in the inability of much of the world to acknowledge its complexity. Until that changes, Israel will continue to face an impossible standard, one where even its efforts to prevent tragedy are reframed as acts of injustice.
Sabine Sterk is the CEO of Time To Stand Up For Israel.
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Europe’s Left-Wing Is at a Crossroads — And Its Voters Are Walking Away
Anti-Israel demonstrators release smoke in the colors of the Palestinian flag as they protest to condemn the Israeli forces’ interception of some of the vessels of the Global Sumud Flotilla aiming to reach Gaza and break Israel’s naval blockade, in Barcelona, Spain, Oct. 2, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Nacho Doce
For decades, Europe’s left‑wing parties were the natural home of working‑class families, social reformers, and supporters of egalitarian economics.
Today, however, these parties face a deep identity crisis; many voters no longer know what they represent. Their decline is neither sudden nor mysterious. It stems from their failure to outline a coherent economic alternative, their reluctance to address public concerns over cultural change, and a foreign‑policy shift that alienates moderates and minority communities alike.
Economically, the left has slipped into disarray. Some parties now embrace neoliberal ideas they once opposed, while others offer vague promises disconnected from real policy. With inflation rising, industries shifting, and inequality widening, many working‑class voters feel abandoned. Rather than addressing these issues, left‑wing leaders often focus on internal ideological debates that resonate mainly in urban strongholds.
A similar pattern appears on immigration and cultural identity — central issues in European politics. The left often responds to public concerns not with solutions but with dismissal, treating working‑class worries as reactionary instead of substantive. In countries where leftist parties have merged with centrists, their message has blurred even more, creating space for right‑wing populists eager to fuse economic frustration with cultural fears.
Foreign policy has intensified these divides. After the latest Middle East conflict, parts of the European left adopted an uncompromising pro‑Palestinian stance, often aimed at courting Muslim voters. Legitimate criticism of Israeli policy is one thing, but rhetoric that blames Israelis collectively or echoes historic antisemitic themes is another.
France’s La France Insoumise (LFI), for example, has repeatedly refused to classify Hamas as a terrorist group, fueling what observers describe as a toxic climate. Similar tensions appear in Sweden, where Jewish students report rising hostility, and in Spain, where pro‑Palestinian rallies receive political backing without clear rejection of antisemitic elements.
Even smaller nations face similar issues. In Croatia, descendants of Jewish families whose property was seized under fascist and later communist regimes still encounter heavy bureaucratic barriers when seeking restitution. As Deutsche Welle reporting shows, heirs in Zagreb — governed by the green‑left coalition Možemo! — spend years navigating courts and administrative obstacles, with many properties still unrecovered despite clear historical proof of ownership. These unresolved legal complexities fuel mistrust and reveal how institutional inertia persists.
The left’s challenge is not simply to recover lost voters, but to regain a sense of political purpose. It must craft a credible economic message, engage cultural concerns without contempt, and articulate a foreign policy grounded in principle rather than posturing.
Europe needs parties capable of balancing social justice with social cohesion — and clarity with empathy. Whether the left can meet that challenge will shape the continent’s politics for years to come.
Dr. Vladimir Krulj is a political economist with Franco‑Serbian roots, educated at HEC Paris, King’s College London, and France’s elite École nationale d’administration (ENA). A Fellow at the Institute of Economic Affairs in London, he is known for his unapologetically pro‑market views and his critiques of Europe’s failing economic orthodoxies. He also teaches at ESCP Business School and the University of Tours in France.
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When Democracies Lose the Narrative, They Lose More Than Words
A view of a residential building damaged by a strike, amid the US-Israeli conflict with Iran, in Tehran, Iran, March 23, 2026. Photo: Majid Asgaripour/WANA (West Asia News Agency) via REUTERS
Israel is fighting a war, and being judged in real time by people who are not carrying its risks, don’t face its decisions, and aren’t responsible for its outcomes. The judgment against Israel is not forming slowly. It is forming immediately, and it is shaping what Israel is allowed to do next.
This is where the real shift happens. Public opinion is not a side effect of war. It is becoming one of its constraints.
In the months and years following October 7, 2023, Israel’s internal reality became visible to anyone willing to look. Families of hostages have spoken publicly. Military strategy has been debated in real time.The political leadership has been questioned openly. These are not cracks in the system. They are the system functioning under pressure.
Outside of Israel, those same signals are being interpreted through a different lens. They are not seen as accountability. They are seen as division, not as strength.
At the same time, Israel’s enemies project a consistent message. Their narrative is simple, repeated, and controlled. It travels easily. It feels clear. It leaves little room for visible disagreement.
When public opinion turns, it begins to influence political pressure. Allies become more cautious. Support becomes conditional. The space to act narrows.
This is how a democracy can begin to lose ground outside the battlefield while still fighting effectively within it.
In today’s information environment, visibility does not guarantee understanding. Information is selected, framed, and repeated in ways that shape perception, often reflecting how perception gets manipulated.
At the same time, controlled messaging from the other side removes internal friction from public view. What reaches the outside world is a simplified version of events: Israel as the aggressor, and anyone that tries to attack or threaten it as the heroic underdog.
People are drawn to clarity. A message that is repeated without variation feels reliable. Over time, repetition shapes belief and narrows the range of what people are willing to consider. This pattern reflects how groupthink leads to collective blindness. Once a simplified narrative settles, it becomes resistant to correction, even when it leaves out essential context.
Israel faces an additional layer of scrutiny. As a democracy, it operates within a framework of law and declared ethical standards. Its actions are measured against those standards in real time. Civilian harm is debated openly. Operational decisions are questioned publicly. This is necessary for accountability. It also places the full weight of war in public view, including the reality of acceptable damage in conflict
These discussions are often detached from the conditions in which those decisions are made. They are evaluated without the same exposure to risk, uncertainty, and consequence. The result is a gap between how decisions are made and how they are judged.
That gap is where public opinion shifts.
From a distance, consistency feels stronger than complexity. A controlled narrative feels more stable than an open one. Over time, this creates a reversal in perception. The side that exposes its internal responsibility begins to look uncertain. The side that conceals its internal dynamics begins to look resolved.
When clarity is valued more than accuracy, and repetition carries more weight than context, the advantage moves toward those who control the message, not those who expose the truth.
Israel is not only fighting to defend itself. It is operating within a system that rewards simplicity and penalizes transparency. Ignoring that reality allows others to define the terms of judgment before the outcome is even known.
Public opinion follows what is repeated and understood. Recognizing how that understanding is formed is no longer optional. It is part of the fight itself.
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Tsahi Shemesh is an Israeli-American IDF veteran and the founder of Krav Maga Experts in NYC. A father and educator, he writes about Jewish identity, resilience, moral courage, and the ethics of strength in a time of rising antisemitism.