Uncategorized
Sure, be mad I voted for Mamdani — I’m still just as Jewish (and Israeli) as you are
Politics was once about hiring someone to do a job, a public service for the greater good. Now it’s about picking a team — and God help you if you cheer for the wrong one.
I’ve been learning a lot from reactions to my recent op-ed describing why I voted for New York City Mayor-elect Zohran Mamdani. The lessons aren’t really about Mamdani, or New York, or even about me — they’re about what’s happened to politics and civic life itself.
There was a time when elections were about competence and vision. Voters weighed experience and judgment. Campaigns made the case for why their candidate was best suited to serve the public. Now, it feels like the World Cup. Candidates are teams, voters are supporters, and politics is no longer about governing — it’s about belonging, and the fan bases are vicious.
Almost none of the reactions to my endorsement of Mamdani have had anything to do with whether he’d be a good mayor. In the hundreds of comments and messages I’ve received, not a single one — literally zero — was about his qualifications, his experience, or his readiness to serve. Instead, the conversation has been entirely about which team I’ve joined.
Apparently, as an Israeli and as a Jew, I’m not supposed to be on Mamdani’s team. My support created a dissonance for those who see politics through binary, populist lenses. The response was to tell me I’d defected — to the “other” side. That I’m no longer really Israeli. Not Jewish. That I’ve betrayed my people.
That’s completely illogical and — let’s be honest — stupid. I’ve done 23andMe. I’m about as close to 100% Ashkenazi Jewish as anyone can get. My Israeli citizenship is affirmed by passports and birth certificates. None of this is up for debate.
One friendly acquaintance in Tel Aviv even commented publicly on my Facebook wall, sarcastically asking, “Since when are you Israeli, and in what way?” The question was cloaked in feigned ignorance but carried a real accusation. Rather than do the mental work of asking herself why it seems so preposterous that a proud Israeli-Jewish-American-Canadian leftist — someone who’s spent her life and career believing in and speaking up for justice and shared society across all her homelands — might support a Muslim leftist candidate for mayor, her knee-jerk reaction was to question my identity, my citizenship, my belonging.
I get it. It’s easier to kick me off the team than to deal with my point of view from within it. I also think that’s lazy, and a little bit silly.
But beneath the silliness is a deeper lesson about how hollow civic engagement has become.
Political discourse is now an identity-sorting exercise, a game of tribal belonging where substance is nearly irrelevant and loyalty is everything. There is no greater good anymore, just a tunnel-vision sense of what’s good for me and my team.
And here’s what’s striking: There should absolutely be room for meaningful debate about Mayor-elect Mamdani and his policies. I’ve had tough conversations with myself about his platform, and I landed where I landed, but I don’t think it’s the only legitimate place to end up. I don’t see myself — or my politics — as all-knowing or universally applicable.
We should argue, question, and disagree with each other about leadership and governance in this city. But in responding to my essay, not one person brought up substantive objections involving Mamdani’s legislative record, his housing policy or his approach to social services. No one asked questions about those things, either.
Instead, people threw out sound bites, like Mamdani’s remark that he’d support efforts to have Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu arrested on an International Criminal Court warrant if he sets foot in New York. (The United States isn’t a party to the ICC, making this campaign promise notably hard to realize.)
That line has been used again and again in my mentions as supposed “proof” that supporting Mamdani equals endorsing antisemitism.
But let’s pause on that for a moment. Hundreds of thousands of Israelis filled Kaplan Street for months before the Hamas attack of Oct. 7, 2023, protesting Netanyahu’s corruption and authoritarianism. Since early in the war that followed those attacks, they’ve been out again to demonstrate against his abandonment of the hostages. When Jews around the world staged protests in solidarity in major cities, they were hailed by many as pro-Israel.
The slogans and imagery — Israeli flags held high — were explicit: “Lock him up.” “He belongs in jail and in hell.” I remember one poster vividly: an Israeli flag turned on its side so the blue stripes formed prison bars, with a caricature of Netanyahu clutching them from behind. No one called those protesters antisemitic. They were simply patriots — of the liberal variety.
So when Mayor-elect Mamdani, someone who believes in applying international law consistently, says he wouldn’t make an exception for Netanyahu, why is that suddenly antisemitic? Is it because he’s Muslim? Because he’s not Israeli? Because he’s daring to say what Israelis themselves have shouted in the streets for years?
Even Rabbi Elliot Cosgrove of Central Synagogue in Manhattan, a prominent liberal who famously joined a protest against Netanyahu outside the United Nations in 2023, taking the podium to lambast his corruption, used his pulpit to denounce Mamdani. In doing so, he cited — among many other concerns — that same statement about Netanyahu as evidence that Jews would not be safe in Mamdani’s New York.
What changed? Has Netanyahu’s corruption faded? Has his abandonment of the hostages made him more defensible? Has his tacit support for Hamas — the mutual dependence that has fueled this endless, brutal war — suddenly made him more worthy of protection? Or has the war itself, the issue that brought him before the ICC, done so — despite the broad belief, held within Israel as well as without, that Netanyahu worked to extend that war for personal gain?
The reversal reveals not a change in Netanyahu’s behavior, but in our own political reflexes. When a Muslim criticizes him, it’s alarming. When Jews do, it’s democracy — and even Zionism.
Dozens more people pointed me to a campaign video Mamdani released in Arabic as “evidence” that I was supporting a Hamas sympathizer. Not because of anything he said. Because he spoke Arabic.
That’s not vigilance; that’s anti-Arab hate. Arabic is one of the most widely spoken languages in the world. That includes New York. It’s also one of the languages of Israel, and of Mizrahi Jews. The fact that a Muslim elected official in the U.S. speaking Arabic to his constituents can be twisted into “evidence” of treachery says more about our own moral panic than about him. We’ve reached a point where solidarity across difference — where a Jew supporting a Muslim candidate who believes in justice — breaks people’s mental circuitry.
And in this morass of politics-as-World-Cup, we are not just losing nuance — we’re losing each other. The machinery of division thrives on turning minorities and working-class communities against one another. Jews and Muslims, Black and brown New Yorkers, immigrants and long-timers — somehow, we’ve all ended up pitted against one other to keep the system intact.
It’s a cruel and dangerous game. It’s not sustainable. In supporting Mamdani, I expressed support for a New York City, and a world, where solidarity wins over suspicion, where Jews and Muslims are allies rather than adversaries, and where justice is not conditional on which “team” you’re on. Politics is not the World Cup. It’s the daily act of choosing whether to build walls, or build community.
And for everyone asking: No, I’m not looking forward to a mandatory hijab — since that will never be a policy in Mamdani’s New York. But I am looking forward to my hijabi sisters feeling free and safe here, just as I’m looking forward to feeling that way myself.
The post Sure, be mad I voted for Mamdani — I’m still just as Jewish (and Israeli) as you are appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
J Street goes on the offensive against AIPAC-backed candidates
(JTA) — J Street, the liberal Jewish Middle East advocacy group, announced that it will spend $3 million to defeat a handful of Republican candidates backed by AIPAC, joining the plethora of progressive groups targeting the American Israel Public Affairs Committee this election year.
Such an attack campaign is an unusual initiative for J Street, which typically endorses candidates but does not target opponents on the basis of an AIPAC endorsement. Until now, according to J Street President Jeremy Ben-Ami, the likelier scenario for his organization was finding its endorsed candidates on the defensive against AIPAC’s spending.
“It’s a new era for us,” Ben-Ami said in an interview. In 2022, J Street targeted an AIPAC backed candidate — but only after AIPAC barraged the J Street endorsed candidate with negative spending.
In a statement, J Street said that this will be the group’s largest super PAC investment in its history, referring to political action committees that can raise unlimited funds but are forbidden from coordinating with campaigns.
The $3 million will be spent on ads targeting Republican Rep. Mike Collins, who is running for U.S. Senate in Georgia against Democratic Sen. Jon Ossoff, who is Jewish, and a handful of incumbents: Ohio Rep. Max Miller, who is running for reelection amid allegations of domestic abuse, which he denies; Wisconsin Rep. Derrick Van Orden; Pennsylvania Rep. Ryan Mackenzie; and Iowa Rep. Mariannette Miller-Meeks.
Ben-Ami said J Street targeted those particular candidates in part because they each face competitive races as the Democrats look to take control of the House and Senate and they have ideological distance from J Street. Many of them were also connected to the movement to deny and overturn the 2020 election results, Ben-Ami said.
J Street’s campaign comes as AIPAC’s brand has become increasingly toxic among voters, and as a growing number of Democratic politicians cross its red line of supporting conditions on U.S. military aid to Israel. J Street’s position, meanwhile, has recently drifted toward supporting a phasing-out of military aid to Israel in 2028.
AIPAC blasted the campaign in a post on X. “Is this from J Street or Justice Democrats?” AIPAC wrote, referring to the progressive organization that has increasingly aligned with pro-Palestinian advocacy.
“A dark money super PAC spending millions to defeat pro-Israel candidates and lie about AIPAC,” the group wrote. “Not a word about helping elect pro-Israel candidates further exposes the difference between J Street and actual pro-Israel organizations.”
AIPAC has been a heavy spender since it launched its super PAC, United Democracy Project, ahead of the 2022 midterms, and is the top outside spender in this election cycle, according to Open Secrets. A number of anti-AIPAC, pro-Palestinian groups have emerged over the past year to counter the pro-Israel lobbying group’s spending.
Unlike those groups, J Street and AIPAC have some overlap in which candidates they back: Both groups endorsed moderate, pro-Israel Democrats such as Reps. Hakeem Jeffries and Dan Goldman. J Street’s super PAC has also previously targeted individual candidates for their AIPAC endorsement, such as Rep. Haley Stevens in 2022, citing AIPAC’s donations from right-wing megadonors.
An AIPAC spokesperson wrote that it is “disappointing, but not surprising, that J Street continues to amplify lies about our community.”
“AIPAC members are focused on helping elect Democrats and Republicans who will strengthen the U.S.-Israel partnership, while J Street is focused on turning support for the Jewish state into a partisan political football,” said AIPAC’s spokesperson.
Ben-Ami said this year’s campaign is not about “the relationship between us and AIPAC,” but is rather about emboldening candidates who may otherwise worry that they will be up against AIPAC’s war chest.
“We are very conscious that there are many candidates who are afraid of what AIPAC might be able to do politically, and therefore adopt positions and say things about policy because they are afraid, and their fear and intimidation is holding them back,” Ben-Ami said.
Now, he said, J Street is putting “the shoe on the other foot.”
“If you are going to oppose American democracy and provide carte blanche to this Israeli government, then you need to be afraid,” he said.
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post J Street goes on the offensive against AIPAC-backed candidates appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
Germany’s far-right AfD, riding state win, targets more gains in elections from east to west
(JTA) — Germany’s far-right, riding high after winning an eastern state, seeks to capitalize on its momentum in a series of upcoming elections — starting with municipal voting this weekend, followed by two closely watched state contests.
The first test for the Alternative for Germany (AfD) party comes Sunday in municipal elections in the western state of Lower Saxony. A week later, the AfD has its sights on state elections in the capital, Berlin, and the Baltic coast state of Mecklenburg-Western Pomerania.
The AfD beat out other parties in Saxony-Anhalt on Sept. 6 with 43.8% of the vote and 39 of 83 state parliament seats, falling just short of a majority and marking Germany’s greatest far-right victory in a state election since World War II.
“From previous elections, we know that the AfD is currently able to mobilize almost totally its own constituency and potential voters, while its democratic competitors have much more problems,” said Gideon Botsch, the head of the Emil Julius Gumbel Research Unit on Antisemitism and Right-Wing Extremism at Potsdam University.
While polls do not predict the next state election results will match the historic win in Saxony-Anhalt, the AfD currently leads other parties in Mecklenburg-Western Pomerania with about 35% of the vote. And in Berlin, long a stronghold of Germany’s political left, the AfD is jockeying with the center-right Christian Democratic Union (CDU) and the left-wing Linke for first place, with all three polling around 20%.
The AfD, a nationalist, anti-immigrant party whose leaders have proposed rejecting Germany’s “guilt complex” over the Holocaust, has regularly topped nationwide opinion polls for the past year. In surveys asking Germans which party they would choose if federal elections were held “this Sunday,” the AfD often receives the highest results, Botsch told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
The AfD has built a dedicated and growing base, said Botsch. Its popularity signals frustration with the mainstream parties in power, particularly the CDU, Chancellor Friedrich Merz’s party, amid a sluggish economy. The AfD is especially popular in eastern Germany, where voters are poorer and hit hard by high energy prices exacerbated by the wars in Iran and Ukraine.
The AfD is likely to perform more weakly in the west, where Lower Saxony will hold a municipal election on Sunday. The party has stronger influence in the east, and Germany’s municipal elections tend to hinge more on well-known figures from established parties, said Roger Stöcker, a political scientist at Otto von Guericke University in Magdeburg. Still, even if the AfD doesn’t transform governments, Stöcker said that making inroads to further entrench itself in Lower Saxony would be “a strategically significant success.”
“It’s conceivable that the AfD wins a town hall or a county administration here and there or strengthens its presence in local councils, expanding its local base,” said Stöcker.
The three upcoming elections are being closely watched for signs of the AfD’s wider-scale momentum, said Daniel Schuster, who heads the Simon Wiesenthal Center’s European office.
“Taken together, these elections can help show whether Saxony-Anhalt was an exceptionally strong eastern result or part of a broader national expansion of the AfD’s electoral base,” said Schuster.
Remko Leemhuis, the director of the American Jewish Committee Berlin Lawrence and Lee Ramer Institute for German-Jewish Relations, added that residents will feel the effects of the AfD’s success even if it falls short of its victory in Saxony-Anhalt. A “very strong AfD result,” short of managing to enter government coalitions, would still “raise serious concerns” for Jewish residents about the party’s influence, said Leemhuis.
Residents in Saxony-Anhalt are waiting to see the ramifications of the AfD’s election victory. Without an outright majority, the party needs partners to join a coalition. Its nationalist agenda in the region includes teaching children less about Hitler, banning Pride flags in public buildings and requiring artists and cultural organizations to sign a declaration that they will not “disparage Germany and its culture” if they seek state funding.
State governments also control domestic policing and parts of the judiciary. The AfD could use its power in these areas to “put pressure on minorities it dislikes,” including immigrants, Muslims and Jews who are identified with Holocaust remembrance, said Stöcker. At the same time, the AfD could direct policing and intelligence away from right-wing extremism in Saxony-Anhalt, which recorded the second-highest number of right-wing extremist crimes per capita of Germany’s 16 states last year, Leemhuis said.
The AfD’s victory in Saxony-Anhalt marked a “watershed moment” in German politics, according to Roland Abold, the managing director of Infratest Dimap, a German election research institute. Abold said that the result heaped pressure on Merz and the federal government, as “calls for a change in political direction and a reassessment of cooperation with the AfD are likely to intensify.”
The CDU for now is standing behind Merz, the most unpopular chancellor in modern German history after 16 months in power. But if the CDU faces further heavy defeats in the upcoming elections, questions about Merz as the party’s leader could escalate, said Stöcker.
The AfD already has its eyes on his job. Alice Weidel, the national AfD’s co-chair, announced on Monday that she wants the party to win “at least 40% of the vote” in Germany’s next federal election in 2029.
Ulrich Siegmund, the AfD candidate in Saxony-Anhalt who hopes to become the state premier, said in the same press conference that his goal was “very clear.”
“As perhaps the next Minister-President of Saxony-Anhalt, I need a Federal Chancellor Alice Weidel here in Berlin, so that we can write here history side by side,” said Siegmund.
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post Germany’s far-right AfD, riding state win, targets more gains in elections from east to west appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
I was born after 9/11. I still carry the memories of that day.
Earlier this week, I was talking with my mother over the phone about her experience on 9/11. She walked me through the familiar parts — how she was in our Upper West Side apartment when she learned about the attacks from a relative, how she went to the garage to get the car so they could drive to a friend’s house upstate once she realized the attacks were acts of terror. There were still hijacked planes in the air, and she worried New York City might be targeted again. Then, she said, “This part is going to make me cry.”
I hadn’t remembered what came next, but suddenly it came back to me. “Oh no, me too,” I said.
While she waited for my father to come back uptown from his office in the Financial District, she stopped inside a fire station across from the garage. Inside was a lone firefighter, who’d stayed behind to man the station while the rest of his company was inside the towers. He was watching the news on television, and my mom stood next to him, watching too, when the towers fell.
“We just lost so many men,” he said.
I wasn’t there when it happened; I wasn’t even alive. But I’d heard this story before, I’d walked dozens of times past that same fire station, which now has a plaque commemorating the seven firefighters who died on 9/11. Hearing the story again on the phone, I found myself walking down the streets of Washington D.C., bawling.
I’m 23, born a year-and-a-half after 9/11. Most Americans my age learned about the attacks in school, as history. I’m part of the 16% who learned through family or friends.
The discovery happened by accident, when I was in kindergarten. My mom and I were in a children’s store on the Upper West Side, when we started flipping through a picture book about the history of New York City. Most of the book was unremarkable, but the end was unexpected: a scene of the smoldering twin towers.
I forget what exactly happened next, but here’s what I do remember: My mom was upset that the shop hadn’t provided a warning about the book’s end, and I was confused about why she was upset. I was five, too young to understand the image and never one to let a question go unanswered; I must have pestered her until she offered up an explanation.

She hadn’t been prepared to tell me about terrorism. She’d been evading the topic for some time, telling half-truths to avoid it. When I’d ask her why we had to take our shoes off in line at the airport, she’d just say it was to make sure no one had anything dangerous, leaving out the part about how a man had tried to get on a flight with bombs hidden in his shoes.
“9/11 is a huge thing for a parent to have to tell a kid about,” my mom told me this week. “You were a happy kid, and I didn’t want you to get scared or traumatized.”
The events, and impacts, of that day slowly unfolded for me as the years passed. I learned that my father had watched from Battery Park as the South Tower fell; he ran westward as plumes of smoke billowed toward him. I learned that my parents had friends who’d died in the towers, one of whom was the father of a boy I grew up with. I remember going to the 9/11 Memorial and Museum when it opened in 2014, feeling sick as I watched footage of people jumping out of the towers.
The New York Times recently interviewed dozens of Gen Z Americans about 9/11. I was struck by how disconnected many felt from the event. “It’s hard to feel sad about something that you don’t remember,” said Annika Heegaard, a 25-year-old now living in New York.
But for me, 9/11 doesn’t feel quite so far away. By now I’ve lived through other mass casualty events, like the Parkland shooting and the Oct. 7 Hamas attacks. But 9/11 is the only tragedy that my family members had such a direct connection to. “It was devastating,” my mom said.
I think the reason I can remember the exact moment I found out about 9/11 is because it changed my view of the world. I remember being almost unable to comprehend that anyone would do what the hijackers did. I wasn’t, as my mom feared, traumatized by learning about the attacks; I didn’t fear for my safety each day. But the knowledge was in some ways a loss of innocence — a discovery that people could do awful things and that the world wasn’t as safe a place as I had assumed.
The post I was born after 9/11. I still carry the memories of that day. appeared first on The Forward.

