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Letty Cottin Pogrebin wants Jews to own up to the corrosive power of shame
(JTA) — When a lawyer for Donald Trump asked E. Jean Carroll why she didn’t scream while allegedly being raped by Donald Trump, I thought of Letty Cottin Pogrebin. In her latest book, “Shanda: A Memoir of Shame and Secrecy,” she writes about being assaulted by a famous poet — and how the shadow of shame kept women like her silent about attacks on their own bodies.
That incident in 1962, she writes, was “fifty-eight years before the #MeToo movement provided the sisterhood and solidarity that made survivors of abuse and rape feel safe enough to tell their stories.”
Now 83, Pogrebin could have coasted with a memoir celebrating her six decades as a leading feminist: She co-founded Ms. magazine, its Foundation for Women and the National Women’s Political Caucus. She served as president of Americans for Peace Now and in 1982 blew the whistle on antisemitism in the feminist movement.
Instead, “Shanda” is about her immigrant Jewish family and the secrets they carried through their lives. First marriages that were kept hidden. An unacknowledged half-sister. Money problems and domestic abuse. An uncle banished for sharing family dirt in public.
“My mania around secrecy and shame was sparked in 1951 by the discovery that my parents had concealed from me the truth about their personal histories, and every member of my large extended family, on both sides, was in on it,” writes Pogrebin, now 83. “Their need to avoid scandal was so compelling that, once identified, it provided the lens through which I could see my family with fresh eyes, spotlight their fears, and, in so doing, illuminate my own.”
“Shanda” (the Yiddish word describes the kind of behavior that brings shame on an entire family or even a people) is also a portrait of immigrant New York Jews in the 20th century. As her father and mother father move up in the world and leave their Yiddish-speaking, Old World families behind for new lives in the Bronx and Queens, they stand in for a generation of Jews and new Americans “bent on saving face and determined to be, if not exemplary, at least impeccably respectable.”
Pogrebin and I spoke last week ahead of the Eight Over Eighty Gala on May 31, where she will be honored with a group that includes another Jewish feminist icon, the writer Erica Jong, and musician Eve Queler, who founded her own ensemble, the Opera Orchestra of New York, when she wasn’t being given chances to conduct in the male-dominated world of classical music. The gala is a fundraiser for the New Jewish Home, a healthcare nonprofit serving older New Yorkers.
Pogrebin and I spoke about shame and how it plays out in public and private, from rape accusations against a former president to her regrets over how she wrote about her own abortions to how the Bible justifies family trickery.
Our conversation was edited for length and clarity.
I found your book very moving because my parents’ generation, who like your family were middle-class Jews who grew up or lived in the New York metropolitan area, are also all gone now. Your book brought back to me that world of aunts and uncles and cousins, and kids like us who couldn’t imagine what kinds of secrets and traumas our parents and relatives were hiding. But you went back and asked all the questions that many of us are afraid to ask.
I can’t tell you how good writing it has been. I feel as though I have no weight on my back. And people who have read it gained such comfort from the normalization that happens when you read that others have been through what you’ve been through. And my family secrets are so varied — just one right after the other. The chameleon-like behavior of that generation — they became who they wanted to be through pretense or actual accomplishment.
In my mother’s case, pretense led the way. She went and got a studio photo that made it look like she graduated from high school when she didn’t. In the eighth grade, she went up to her uncle’s house in the north Bronx and had her dates pick her up there because of the shanda of where she lived on the Lower East Side with nine people in three rooms. She had to imagine herself the child of her uncle, who didn’t have an accent or had an accent but at least spoke English.
You describe yours as “an immigrant family torn between loyalty to their own kind and longing for American acceptance.”
There was the feeling that, “If only we could measure up, we would be real Americans.” My mother was a sewing machine operator who became a designer and figured out what American women wore when she came from rags and cardboard shoes, in steerage. So I admire them. As much as I was discomforted by the lies, I ended up having compassion for them.
It’s also a story of thwarted women, and all that lost potential of a generation in which few could contemplate a college degree or a career outside the home. Your mother worked for a time as a junior designer for Hattie Carnegie, a sort of Donna Karan of her day, but abandoned that after she met your dad and became, as you write, “Mrs. Jack Cottin.”
The powerlessness of women was complicated in the 1950s by the demands of the masculine Jewish ideal. So having a wife who didn’t work was proof that you were a man who could provide. As a result women sacrificed their own aspirations and passions. She protected her husband’s image by not pursuing her life outside the home. In a way my feminism is a positive, like a photograph, to the negative of my mother’s 1950s womanhood.
“I’m not an optimist. I call myself a ‘cockeyed strategist,” said Pogrebin, who has a home on the Upper West Side. (Mike Lovett)
You write that you “think of shame and secrecy as quintessentially Jewish issues.” What were the Jewish pressures that inspired your parents to tell so many stories that weren’t true?
Think about what we did. We hid behind our names. We changed our names. We sloughed off our accents. My mother learned to make My*T*Fine pudding instead of gefilte fish. Shame and secrecy have always been intrinsically Jewish to me, because of the “sha!” factor: At every supper party, there would be the moment when somebody would say, “Sha! We don’t talk about that!” So even though we talked about what felt like everything, there were things that couldn’t be touched: illness, the C-word [cancer]. If you wanted to make a shidduch [wedding match] with another family in the insular communities in which Jews lived, you couldn’t let it be known that there was cancer in the family, or mental illness.
While I was writing this memoir, I realized that the [Torah portion] I’m listening to one Shabbat morning is all about hiding. It is Jacob finding out that he didn’t marry Rachel, after all, but married somebody he didn’t love. All of the hiding that I took for granted in the Bible stories and I was raised on like mother’s milk was formative. They justified pretense, and they justified trickery. Rebecca lied to her husband and presented her younger son Jacob for the blessing because God told her, because it was for the greater good of the future the Jewish people.
I think Jews felt that same sort of way when it came to surviving. So we can get rid of our names. We wouldn’t have survived, whether we were hiding in a forest or behind a cabinet, a name or a passport, or [pushed into hiding] with [forced] conversions. Hiding was survival.
I was reading your book just as the E. Jean Carroll verdict came down, holding Donald Trump liable for sexually assaulting her during an encounter in the mid-’90s. You write how in 1962, when you were working as a book publicist, the hard-drinking Irish poet Brendan Behan (who died in 1964) tried to rape you in a hotel room and you didn’t report it. Like Carroll, you didn’t think that it was something that could be reported because the cost was too high.
Certainly in that era powerful men could get away with horrible behavior because of shanda reasons.
Carroll said in her court testimony, “It was shameful to go to the police.”
You know that it happened to so many others and nobody paid the price. The man’s reputation was intact and we kept our jobs because we sacrificed our dignity and our truth. I was in a career, and I really was supporting myself. I couldn’t afford to lose my job. I would have been pilloried for having gone to his hotel room, and nobody was there when he picked up an ashtray and threatened to break the window of the Chelsea Hotel unless I went up there with him.The cards were stacked against me.
In “Shanda,” you write about another kind of shame: The shame you now feel decades later about how you described the incident in your first book. You regret “how blithely I transformed an aggravated assault by a powerful man into a ‘sticky sexual encounter.’”
I wrote about the incident in such offhand terms, and wonder why. I wrote, basically, “Okay, girls, you’re gonna have to put up with this, but you’re gonna have to find your own magical sentence like I had with Behan” to get him to stop.
You write that you said, “You can’t do this to me! I’m a nice Jewish girl!” And that got him to back off.
Really painful.
I think that’s a powerful aspect of your book — how you look back at the ways you let down the movement or your family or friends and now regret. In 1991 you wrote a New York Times essay about an illegal abortion you had as a college senior in 1958, but not the second one you had only a few months later. While you were urging women to tell their stories of abortion, you note how a different shame kept you from telling the whole truth.
Jewish girls could be, you know, plain or ordinary, but they had to be smart, and I had been stupid. I could out myself as one of the many millions of women who had an abortion but not as a Jewish girl who made the same mistake [of getting pregnant] twice.
The book was written before the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade. In the book you write powerfully about the shame, danger and loneliness among women when abortion was illegal, and now, after 50 years, it is happening again. Having been very much part of the generation of activists that saw Roe become the law of the land, how have you processed its demise?
Since the 1970s, we thought everything was happening in this proper linear way. We got legislation passed, we had litigation and we won, and we saw the percentage of women’s participation in the workplace all across professions and trades and everything else rise and rise. And then Ronald Reagan was elected and then there was the Moral Majority and then it was the Hyde Amendment [barring the use of federal funds to pay for abortion]. I was sideswiped because I think I was naive enough to imagine that once we articulated what feminism was driving at and why women’s rights were important, and how the economic reality of families and discrimination against women weren’t just women’s issues, people would internalize it and understand it and justice would be done.
In the case of Roe, we could not imagine that rights could ever be taken away. We didn’t do something that we should have done, which is to have outed ourselves in a big way. It’s not enough that abortion was legal. We allowed it to remain stigmatized. We allowed the right wing to create their own valence around it. That negated solidarity. If we had talked about abortion as healthcare, if we had had our stories published and created organizations around remembering what it was like and people telling their stories about when abortion was illegal and dangerous…. Instead we allowed the religious right to prioritize [fetal] cells over a woman’s life. We just were not truthful with each other, so we didn’t create solidarity.
Are you heartened by the backlash against restrictive new laws in red states or optimistic that the next wave of activism can reclaim the right to abortion?
I’m not an optimist. I call myself a “cockeyed strategist.” If you look at my long resume, it is all about organizing: Ms. magazine, feminist organizations, women’s foundations, Black-Jewish dialogues, Torah study groups and Palestinian-Jewish dialogues.
Number one, we have to own the data and reframe the narrative. We have to open channels for discussion for women who have either had one or know someone who has had one, even in religious Catholic families. The state-by-state strategy was really slow, but Ruth Bader Ginsburg wanted that. She almost didn’t get on the court because she didn’t like the nationwide, right-to-privacy strategy of Roe but instead wanted it won state by state, which would have required campaigns of acceptance and consciousness-raising.
So, the irony is she hasn’t lived to see that we’re going to have to do it her way.
You share a lot of family secrets in this book. Is this a book that you waited to write until, I’ll try to put this gently, most of the people had died?
I started this book when I was 78 years old, and there’s always a connection to my major birthdays. And turning 80 – you experience that number and it is so weird. It doesn’t describe me and it probably won’t describe you. I thought, this could well be my last book, so I needed to be completely transparent, put it all out there.
My mother and father and aunts and uncles were gone, but I have 24 cousins altogether. I went to my cousins, and told them I am going to write about the secret of your parents: It’s my uncle, but it’s your father. It’s your family story even though it’s my family, but it’s yours first. And every cousin, uniformly, said, “Are you kidding? You don’t even know the half of it,” and they’d tell me the whole story. I guess people want the truth out in the end.
Is that an aspect of getting older?
I think it’s a promise of liberation, which is what I have found. It’s this experience of being free from anything that I’ve hid. I don’t have to hide. Years ago, on our 35th wedding anniversary, we took our whole family to the Tenement Museum because we wanted them to see how far we’ve come in two generations.
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How YIVO and Max Weinreich Americanized the Yiddish project
װי אַזױ האָט ייִװאָ געפֿונען אַ נײַע הײם אין אַמעריקע נאָכן חורבן? קלמן װײַזער (יאָרק־אוניװערסיטעט אין טאָראָנטאָ) דערצײלט די דאָזיקע דראַמאַטישע געשיכטע אינעם נײַעם בוך „ייִדיש־װיסנשאַפֿט קומט קײן אַמעריקע“.
לכתּחילה איז דער דערפֿאָלג פֿון ייִװאָ ניט געװען קיין זיכערער. װײַזער דערקלערט: „עס איז װײַט ניט געװען קלאָר פֿאַר די שטיצער און מיטאַרבעטער פֿון ייִװאָ אין די 1940ער יאָרן, צי אַן אָרגאַניזאַציע װאָסער ציל איז געװען צו באַדינען די אינטעלעקטועלע און קולטורעלע באַדערפֿענישן פֿונעם אַלװעלטלעכן ייִדיש־רעדנדיקן פֿאָלק קען זיך אײַנװאָרצלען אין די ביז גאָר פֿאַרשײדענע באַדינגונגען פֿון אַמעריקע נאָך דער מלחמה.“
פֿאַר דער מלחמה האָט ייִװאָ געהאַט אַן „אַמעריקאַנער אָפּטײל“ אין ניו־יאָרק. זײַן ציל איז געװען צו זאַמלען געלט פֿאַרן װילנער אינסטיטוט, כאָטש אײניקע זײַנע מיטגלידער האָבן זיך אָפּגעגעבן אױך מיט פֿאָרשונגען פֿון ייִדישער קולטור און געשיכטע — דער עיקר, אין מיזרח-אײראָפּע.
אָבער דאָס רובֿ אַמעריקאַנער ייִדן האָבן געהאַט אַ קנאַפּן אינטערעס צו ייִדיש און בכלל ניט געהאַלטן פֿון ייִדיש־פֿאָרשונג.
נאָכן חורבן איז ייִװאָ געשטאַנען אױפֿן שײדװעג: צו װערן אַ מין אַרכיװ געװידמעט דעם אַמאָליקן חרובֿ־געמאַכטן ייִדישן לעבן אין מזרח־אײראָפּע אָדער װײַטער צו אַנטװיקלען ייִדיש־װיסנשאַפֿט לטובֿת אַ ייִדישן המשך אין אַמעריקע.
װײַזער ברענגט דעם לײענער אַרײַן אין די הײסע װיכּוחים צװישן די מיטאַרבעטער פֿון ייִװאָ װעגן דער ריכטונג פֿון דער אַרבעט. יודל מאַרק האָט געהאַלטן אַז ייִװאָ דאַרף זיך אָפּגעבן דער עיקר מיטן חורבן־פֿאָרשונג, בעת אַמאָליקע בונדיסטן האָבן געטענהט אַז ייִװאָ דאַרף שטודירן דעם מצבֿ פֿון די ייִדישע מאַסן אין אַמעריקע.
מאַקס װײַנרײַך, דער אינטעלעקטועלער מדריך פֿון ייִװאָ, האָט געהאַט אַן אַנדערע װיזיע. ער האָט געגלייבט, אַז דאָס אַמעריקאַנער ייִדנטום איז מסוגל צו שפּילן די פֿירנדיקע ראָלע אין דער ייִדישער װעלט נאָכן חורבן. אָבער לױט זײַן מײנונג זײַנען די אַמעריקאַנער ייִדן ניט געװען גרײט אויף אַזאַ שליחות. און צוגרײטן זײ דערצו האָבן געדאַרפֿט די פּליטים פֿון מזרח־אײראָפּע.
לױט זײַן װיזיע, האָט זיך ייִװאָ געדאַרפֿט אָפּגעבן ניט סתּם מיט װיסנשאַפֿט, נאָר מיט „װיסן װאָס שאַפֿט“, דאָס הײסט, ייִדיש־װיסנשאַפֿט מוז דערמעגלעכן אַמעריקאַנער ייִדן אָפּצוהיטן זײער ייִדישן מהות און פֿאַרזיכערן ייִדישע המשכדיקײט.
דער שליסל צום דערפֿאָלג פֿונעם ריזיקן פּראָיעקט איז געװען די ייִדישע שפּראַך. ייִדיש האָט געדאַרפֿט דינען װי אַ בריק צװישן דורות ייִדן, אַ גײַסטיקע פֿאַרבינדונג צװישן דער אַלטער און דער נײַער הײם.
צוליב דעם, האָט װײַנרײַך געהאַלטן, דאַרף מען „אױסגױיִשן“ די אַמעריקאַנער ייִדישע אינטעליגענציע און העכערן דעם פּרעסטיזש פֿון ייִדיש אין דער אַמעריקאַנער אַקאַדעמישער װעלט.
אָבער ניט געקוקט אױף װײַנרײַכס באַמיִונגען איז ייִװאָ לכתּחילה פֿאַרבליבן אױף די ראַנדן פֿונעם אַמעריקאַנער ייִדישן הױפּטשטראָם און האָט באַקומען אַ קנאַפּע שטיצע מצד די גרױסע ייִדישע פֿילאַנטראָפּישע אָרגאַניזאַציעס. די באַציִונגען צװישן ייִװאָ און דער אַמעריקאַנער ייִדיש־סבֿיבֿה זײַנען אױך ניט געװען קײן גלאַטיקע.
די נאָרמאַטיװע ייִדישע כּלל־שפּראַך, װאָס ייִװאָ האָט געװאָלט פֿאַרשפּרײטן, האָט אַרױסגערופֿן קריטיק מצד אײניקע ייִדישיסטן. זײ האָבן געטענהט, אַז דער „ייִװאָ־ייִדיש“ איז װײַט פֿונעם עכטן נאַטירלעכן מאַמע־לשון.
אין זײַנע אַרטיקלען אין פֿאָרװערטס האָט יצחק באַשעװיס אױסגעלאַכט אַזעלכע נעאָלאָגיזמען װי „קדמן־ייִדיש“ און „בראשית־ייִדיש“, װאָס װײַנרײַך האָט צוגעטראַכט װי לינגװיסטישע באַגריפֿן פֿאַר פֿאַרשײדענע היסטאָרישע תּקופֿות אין דער אַנטװיקלונג פֿון דער ייִדישער שפּראַך.
אין תּוך איז דער קאָנפֿליקט צװישן ייִװאָ און די ייִדישע ליטעראַטן געװען אַרום דער פֿראַגע, „צו װעמען געהערט ייִדיש?“, דערקלערט װײַזער. דער ציל פֿון ייִװאָ איז געװען צו שאַפֿן אַ נאָרמאַטיװע שפּראַך, װאָס מען קען אױסלערנען װי מען לערנט אַנדערע פֿרעמדע שפּראַכן. אַזױ קען מען פֿאַרזיכערן דעם המשך פֿון ייִדיש אַפֿילו װען קײן לעבעדיקע ייִדיש־רעדנדיקער סבֿיבֿה איז מער ניטאָ.
די סאַמע געשפּאַנטע קאַפּיטלען אין דער געשיכטע פֿון ייִװאָ אין אַמעריקע דערצײלן װעגן דעם קאַמף פֿאַר צוריקבאַקומען די מאַטעריאַלן, װאָס האָבן אַ מאָל געהערט צום װילנער ייִװאָ.
טײלװײַז האָבן די נאַציסטן זײ געבראַכט קײן דײַטשלאַנד פֿאַרן אַרכיװ פֿונעם אַנטיסעמיטישן „אינסטיטוט פֿאַר פֿאָרשונגען פֿון דער ייִדן־פֿראַגע“”. נאָך דער מלחמה זײַנען די דאָזיקע מאַטעריאַלן אַרײַנגעפֿאַלן אינעם רשות פֿון דער אַמעריקאַנער מיליטערישער אַדמיניסטראַציע אין דײַטשלאַנד.
כּדי צוריקצוקריגן די דאָזיקע מאַטעריאַלן איז געװען אַ גװאַלדיקער אױפֿטו פֿון װײַנרײַך און זײַנע מיטאַרבעטער, צװישן זיי — לוסי שילדקרעט (דאַװידאָװיטש), װאָס האָט שפּעטער זיך קונה־שם געװען װי אַ חורבן־פֿאָרשערין. לױטן געזעץ האָט די אַמעריקאַנער מיליטערישע אַדמינסטראַציע געדאַרפֿט צוריקגעבן די געראַבעװעטע מאַטעריאַלן צו פּױלן אָדער סאָװעטן־פֿאַרבאַנד. אַן אַנדער פּרעטענדענט איז געװען דער העברעיִשער אוניװערסיטעט אין ירושלים.
װײַנרײַך האָט אױסגענוצט זײַנע קאָנטאַקטן אין די אַמעריקאַנער הױכע פֿענצטער און אין 1947 האָט ייִװאָ צוריקבאַקומען זײַנע מאַטעריאַלן. עס האָט זיך אים אױך אײַנגעגעבן פֿאָרצושטעלן ייִװאָ װי אַ יורש פֿון אַנדערע קולטורעלע אַנשטאַלטן אין װילנע, און ייִװאָ האָט אױך באַקומען די אוצרות פֿון דער סטראַשון־ביבליאָטעק און דער „ווילנער יידישער היסטאריש-עטנאגראפישער געזעלשאפט אויף דעם נאמען פון ש. אַנ־סקי.
דאָס צװײטע קאַפּיטל פֿון דער דאָזיקער געשיכטע איז פֿאָרגעקומען נאָכן פֿאַנאַנדערפֿאַל פֿונעם סאָװעטן־פֿאַרבאַנד אין די 1990ער יאָרן. דעמאָלט האָט מען אַנטדעקט אַ היפּשע זאַמלונג פֿון פֿאָנדן פֿון ייִװאָ אין ליטע, װאָס אַ ליטװישער ביבליאָגראַף האָט פֿאַרבאַהאַלטן אין אַ מאַגאַזין פֿון דער מלוכישער ביכער־קאַמער.
דאָס מאָל האָט ייִװאָ געדאַרפֿט פֿאַרהאַנדלען מיט דער רעגירונג פֿון דער ליטװישער רעפּובליק, װאָס איז אָקערשט געװאָרן אומאָפּהענגיק. סוף־כּל־סוף איז מען געקומען צו אַ פּשרה, און איצט קען מען נוצן די דאָזיקע מאַטעריאַלן אינעם דיגיטאַלישן פֿאָרמאַט.
װײַזערס געשיכטע פֿון ייִװאָ איז אַ געשפּאַנטע און באַלערעװדיקע לעקטור. מאַקס װײַנרײַך איז ניט געװען דער אײנציקער צװישן די אײראָפּעיִשע ייִדישע פּליטים װאָס האָט געפֿונען אַ נײַע הײם אין אַמעריקע און אױפֿגעבױט דאָ אַ הצלחהדיקעע קאַריערע. אָבער ער איז אפֿשר געװען דער אײנציקער, װעמען עס האָט זיך אײַנגעגעבן ניט נאָר ממשיך צו זײַן זײַנע אײגענע פֿאָרשונגען, נאָר אױך װידער אױפֿצובױען אַ גאַנצע װיסנשאַפֿטלעכע אינסטיטוציע אױפֿן נײַעם אַמעריקאַנער באָדן, װאָס פֿאַרבלײַבט אַקטיװ ביזן הײַנטיקן טאָג.
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Hasan Piker causes new trouble for Democrats — especially in key Senate race
Hasan Piker, the popular pundit who most recently suggested American Jews are making themselves targets of violence by supporting Israel, may speak for far-left progressives, but he doesn’t speak for one of the movement’s highest-profile candidates in a closely watched swing-state race, the candidate said.
Dr. Abdul El-Sayed, the Michigan Democratic nominee for Senate, released a statement Monday saying he disagreed with Piker’s latest remarks and that he is opposed to “any rhetoric that puts the community at risk.”
“If Jews in America keep putting this idea out there that they are singularly invested in Israel, eventually someone is going to come around and take action,” Piker said during a Twitch stream on Thursday, “not against the state of Israel, mind you, but against American Jews.” He claimed American Jews who support Israel are bringing violence on themselves by tying their identity to what he called “Jewish ISIS.”
Piker added in an interview published Monday in Haaretz that, “I don’t think that me calling Zionism a Nazi ideology is fomenting violence towards Jews broadly. I genuinely don’t believe that.”
In Monday’s statement, El-Sayed sought to move past the controversy, shifting the conversation back to his campaign’s economic message as he remains in a close race with GOP nominee Mike Rogers. “While politicians and pundits try to make this race about a Twitch streamer, we’re going to be talking about gas, groceries, good schools and healthcare,” Sayed said. “Nobody speaks for this campaign besides me and my campaign spokespeople.”
Piker’s influence
The episode comes as Piker appears to be expanding rather than retreating from Democratic electoral politics.
He campaigned with El-Sayed and other insurgent progressives, including Adam Hamawy, a fierce Israel critic who served as a trauma surgeon in Gaza and won the Democratic primary in New Jersey’s 12th District. In Florida, Rep. Jared Moskowitz made Piker himself part of the closing argument against his socialist primary challenger, Oliver Larkin, whom Piker supported. After Moskowitz easily defeated Larkin, the Jewish congressman offered Piker his “condolences.”
On Monday, even as the controversy over his remarks about American Jews was unfolding, Piker used his Twitch platform to offer an exclusive look at new polling commissioned by the IMEU Policy Project, a pro-Palestinian advocacy organization, and conducted by YouGov among more than 4,000 likely Democratic primary voters in the six states picked as early contests in the 2028 Democratic presidential primary: South Carolina, Nevada, New Hampshire, New Mexico, Michigan and Virginia.
The results showed broad support among those Democratic voters for presidential candidates who commit to reducing U.S. aid for Israel. Piker commands an enormous platform among precisely the younger voters progressive candidates are looking to court. “These numbers are making it undeniable,” Piker said on the stream. “This is an issue that is untenable.”
Earlier in the stream, Piker said the backlash over the weekend has “been a lot” to endure. “I’m going to continue doing what I’m doing,” he added. “I’m not going to feel discouraged. I’m not going to stop saying the truth… someone has to do it.”
The risk for El-Sayed
For El-Sayed, separating himself from some of Piker’s comments but still embracing him reflects the difficult political balance he has been trying to maintain since narrowly winning the primary.
El-Sayed has struggled to build support among Jewish Democrats while holding on to the progressive and pro-Palestinian coalition that helped carry him through the primary. He has assured Jewish voters that his fierce criticism of Israel — and his political relationships with figures such as Piker — should not be seen as hostility toward Jews. “I love and revere Judaism and the Jewish people,” he said in a recent TV appearance. “My commitment to the well-being of the Jewish community, their safety, their children, their future in Michigan is the same commitment that I’ve got to the well-being of my own daughters and all of our kids,” he said in another interview on Sunday.
At the same time, he resisted calls to distance himself from Piker, who has been embraced by Democratic Party progressive candidates. He appeared with El-Sayed on the campaign trail even as Piker has championed terrorist groups as righteous fighters against Israel — leading to accusations he traffics in antisemitism. In a recent speech to college students, Piker blasted Democrats who “fund ICE” and “fund Israel.”
El-Sayed’s Republican rival has already begun courting those voters, launching a “Democrats for Rogers” effort and highlighting El-Sayed’s relationship with Piker.
Speaking to Fox News’ Jesse Watters on Monday night, El-Sayed said that Rogers “thinks he’s running against Hasan Piker.”
An AARP poll released this month had El-Sayed at 48% and Rogers at 47%. Jewish voters account for only about 1.4% of the state electorate, but the defections among Jewish Democrats could matter in a race that close.
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‘Have a problem, call the PM,’ says Netanyahu as he gives out his number in campaign video
(JTA) — TEL AVIV – Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu on Sunday posted what he described as his personal phone number and invited Israelis to contact him with their questions and problems.
It was an election-season stunt that drew such a flood of responses that the number’s WhatsApp account was blocked within minutes and those calling received a busy signal.
It also drew suspicions that it was a ploy to collect voter data.
In a video posted to social media, Netanyahu is seen with longtime adviser Topaz Luk, who asks the prime minister whether he can publish his phone number. Netanyahu initially reacts with disbelief, saying, “Topaz, have you gone crazy?” before agreeing.
“I want to hear from you. Your suggestions, your questions, your problems. I want to hear, so leave me a message,” Netanyahu said. He added that he could not promise to answer everyone but would respond to as many people as possible.
Hundreds of messages and calls arrived within minutes and the WhatsApp account associated with the number was blocked. Luk later posted on X that the account had been disabled because of the volume of calls and said Netanyahu’s team was working to restore it, directing people to Telegram in the meantime.
Kan political correspondent Michael Shemesh questioned whether the number belonged to Netanyahu at all and suggested on X that the exercise was “probably designed to harvest the phone numbers of potential voters.”
Other users pointed to another clue that the handset seen in the video was unlikely to be Netanyahu’s personal phone. One of the WhatsApp groups visible in Luk’s video was a synagogue updates group whose latest message appeared to back political rival Naftali Bennett, the former prime minister who now heads the Beyachad party.
“Something tells me that Bibi isn’t signed up to the ‘Menachem’s House Main Shul Updates’ group,” one X user wrote, “especially not when the latest message there is ‘yalla, it’s time for Bennett.’”
The Likud spokesperson had not responded to a request for comment on the accusations by the time of publication.
It was not the first time Netanyahu handed out what he presented as his personal number during an election campaign. In August 2022, little more than two months before the vote that returned him to power, the then-opposition leader published another number and invited Israelis to video call him.
“Why should only some people have my phone number? Everyone should have it,” Netanyahu said at the time, joking that the move was a “dramatic, world-changing decision.” He told supporters who sent proof they had joined his Telegram channel that they would have a better chance of receiving a video call from him.
The response was similarly intense. Likud said Netanyahu received 9,420 calls within the first 30 minutes, while follow-up videos showed calls and messages flooding the phone.
Netanyahu’s rivals mocked the stunt. Then-Finance Minister Avigdor Liberman released a parody video saying Netanyahu “has not picked up the phone in 12 years,” while Yair Lapid’s Yesh Atid dismissed it as a “fictional phone operated by Netanyahu’s aides.”
The episode comes as Netanyahu faces a difficult reelection campaign, with roughly 20% of voters remaining undecided, many of whom are disillusioned Likud voters, according to pollsters and researchers cited by Reuters.
A Channel 13 poll released earlier this month put Gadi Eisenkot’s Yashar party at 23 seats, ahead of Likud with 21, and Netanyahu’s current coalition projected to win just 49 of the Knesset’s 120 seats. Eisenkot also led Netanyahu 47% to 34% when respondents were asked who was better suited to serve as prime minister.
The phone-number appeal is the latest in a series of efforts to put Netanyahu directly in front of voters, including a blitz of highly publicized appearances. Last week, the prime minister visited a restaurant in Hadera, a Likud stronghold, where owner Simo Shtivi said his arrival was “like hoisting the World Cup,” as diners lined up for photos and a chance to speak with him.
Netanyahu also made a surprise appearance with his wife Sara at a concert by Israeli pop star Eden Ben Zaken. A few days earlier, he filmed a campaign video at Jerusalem’s Malha Mall meeting shoppers, including children. The Central Elections Committee later ordered the video removed because election law bars the use of children in campaign propaganda.
Likud also rolled out billboards showing New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani alongside the leaders of Iran, Turkey and Hezbollah under the slogan, “They want Netanyahu to lose. Don’t let them win.”
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
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