Antisemitism For Dummies

A satire.

At last: the definitive handbook for turning age-old Jew-hatred into cutting-edge activism. Whether you’re a beginner looking to chant in the quad or a seasoned professional eager to upgrade from vague conspiracy posts to full-blown manifestos, this guide has you covered.


⭐️ Foreword by Zohran Mamdani

Mamdani reminds readers: the key to effective antisemitism is tone management. “Smile when you chant,” he writes. “Genocide with a grin reassures the brunch crowd that you’re not angry, you’re just passionate about human rights. Remember, a cheery face pairs well with calls for erasure.” He encourages everyone to follow his fellow Democratic Socialists around the United States in their vilification of Jews.


📚 Chapter Highlights

Chapter 1: Chair-Slamming for Justice (by disgraced former Congressman Jamaal Bowman)

Bowman demonstrates the physical theater of antisemitism. Pro tips:

  • Always slam a chair. Tables are optional.
  • If confronted, look wounded and insist you’re the one being silenced.
  • Practice lines like: “Why won’t anyone love me?” while pointing angrily at Jews.

⚠️ Warning Box: Weak antisemitism looks guilty. Turn up the volume.
It’s an interesting first chapter after the Mamdani “smiling antisemitism” approach in the introduction. The message is either speak softly with a smile or go full jihadi.

Bowman and Mamdani as besties, ready to educate the world on both the anti-Israel and anti-Jew lexicon

Chapter 2: Victimhood Chic (by Rep. Rashida Tlaib)

Learn how to wrap 19th-century blood libels in the soft blanket of “solidarity.” From “poor Gazans” to “oppressed Detroitians,” Tlaib shows how to recycle conspiracy theories as community-building.

💡 Pro Tip: Sprinkle “settler-colonial” and “they” into every sentence. Academia eats it up.


Chapter 3: Identifying Enemies (by Zahra Billoo, CAIR)

Billoo’s motto: Know thy Jewish neighbors, then denounce them.

Draw lists of Jewish organizations and label them “agents of oppression.”

Remember: Jewish schools, camps, and synagogues are all part of “the machine.”

Smile as you explain that Jews who acknowledge their heritage and history are “enemies,” even if they appear “polite.” Even if they are elderly or just children.

💡 Field Exercise: Practice in front of a mirror: “We’re not antisemitic, we’re just anti-Zionist.” Repeat until even you almost believe it.


Chapter 4: The Geography of Intimidation

Featuring Within Our Lifetime (WOL) and WESPAC
Why wait for a march in Washington? Bring the fight to Jewish neighborhoods directly.

Step 1: Find out where Jews live.

Step 2: Show up outside their homes and community centers.

Step 3: Chant until even the mezuzahs look nervous.

📌 Dummies Note: Always claim you’re just exercising free speech. (Lawyers love that one.)


Chapter 5: Bring a Jew (by Peter Beinart)

The best deflection against anti-Jew slander is to be accompanied by an AsAJew. You can usually pick one up in a local woke synagogue or library.

💡 Pro Tip: they are likely to be even louder than you are, so no need for an extra megaphone. Also, use them to help map Jewish locations per Chapter 4.


Chapter 6: Reuse Well-known Tropes- Repackaged for Today’s Audience (by Rep. Ilhan Omar)

Blend anti-capitalist buzzwords with old-school Jew-hatred. Example:
“From auto factories to olive groves, Jews profit off Black and Brown bodies.”
Add enough Marxist vocabulary and suddenly it sounds like grad school theory instead of medieval scapegoating. Be hip with “it’s all about the Benjamins,” to keep the younger audience engaged.


Chapter 7: Accuse Jews of Lying (Bowman)

Bowman comes back with the penultimate chapter. Part of antisemitism is to not only deny Jews a defense, but that they cannot be trusted. Even go so far as accuse raped Jewish women of being liars. Don’t be worried if it makes you appear callous and insane in an age of Believe Women: it helps shake out the true antisemites who will still rally to you.


Chapter 8: Theatrics, Not Apologies

Never apologize. If cornered, double down. If really cornered, accuse the accuser of “Islamophobia.” Remember: tears are a weapon—use them.


🎤 Bonus Features

🔲 Tips & Tricks Box:

Always bring a bullhorn or something else to make noise like whistles or pots. It’s impossible to sound genocidal when you whisper. Don’t let anyone have a passing part in the drama: let them be aware and own the fact that they are actively being complacent as Jews are marked for annihilation in their neighborhoods. They have tacitly joined the jihad.

If accused of antisemitism, pivot: “This is about Gaza!” Works every time.

📖 Sample Review Blurbs:

“Finally, a book that says what I scream outside synagogues every weekend!” — Anonymous Activist

“The Magna Carta of modern bigotry.” — UNESCO Heritage Committee

“Reads like Mein Kampf, but with a flair for fashion.” — Vogue Middle East


🏆 Epilogue: Owning It

The authors agree: antisemitism done timidly looks embarrassing. But antisemitism done boldly and passionately can get you re-elected, tenured, or at least viral on TikTok. Own it, project it, and never forget: you are the victim, even while chanting for someone else’s destruction.

Jesus, the Latest Jew Taken Hostage

Cenk Uygur, host of The Young Turks, posted on X that Jesus was a Palestinian. The implication was not only that Jesus was Arab, but also Muslim. Both are historically false. Jesus was a Jew in Judea. He lived, preached, and died as a Jew in his homeland.

If alive today, Jesus would not be celebrated by the Palestinian Authority. He would be condemned. The United Nations would call him an “illegal settler” for living in Bethlehem and Jerusalem. Palestinian leaders would brand him a “colonist” because his Jewish family had the audacity to live in their ancestral land.

This is not a new stunt. A few years ago, activist Linda Sarsour declared that Jesus was a Palestinian from Nazareth. She conveniently ignored the fact that Nazareth is in Israel, and that Jesus was Jewish—observing Jewish holidays, quoting Jewish scripture, and praying in Jewish synagogues. He was as much a “Palestinian” as King David or Moses.

Radical preacher Omar Suleiman – invited to speak before Congress by Nancy Pelosi – said the same. His goal was to peel Christian support away from the Jewish State. Evangelical Zionists needed to hear the gospel from an Islamic extremist.

Why this persistent rewriting of history? Of cultural appropriation? Because anti-Israel agitators have a larger project: erasing Jewish ties to the land of Israel. They cannot admit that Jews have been in their holy land continuously for millennia, so they try to recast Jewish history in Arab clothing. They claim Jews are foreigners and interlopers while appropriating Jewish figures for their own narratives.

The irony is striking. For all their rhetoric about “coexistence” and “justice,” the pro-Palestinian movement reveals its antisemitic moral rot in these fabrications. They would rather deny Jewish history than seek peace with the Jewish people. They would rather invent a fictional Palestinian Jesus than accept the historical Jewish Jesus.

Jesus has now become the latest Jew taken hostage—not in body, but in identity. Uygur, Sarsour, and their fellow travelers parade his name as a prop in their campaign against Jewish sovereignty. But no amount of Twitterstorms, hashtags, or revisionist slogans can undo the reality: Jesus was a Jew, in Judea, in the land of Israel.

Jesus, like every Jew before and after him, is bound up with the land that antisemitic anti-Israel activists desperately want to sever from its true indigenous people.

Parshat Re’eh and E1: Gathering the Nation Around Jerusalem Then and Now

Parshat Re’eh commands the Jewish people:

“Three times a year all your males shall appear before Hashem your God in the place He will choose—on the Festival of Matzot [Pesach], on the Festival of Weeks [Shavuot], and on the Festival of Booths. [Sukkot]” (Deuteronomy 16:16).

At a time when the tribes of Israel were destined to live across a wide and varied land—from the Galilee to the Negev, from the Mediterranean to the Jordan Valley and beyond—this commandment ensured that all Jews, regardless of tribe or geography, would remain bound to a single center: the place “He will choose:” Jerusalem.


Then: One City for One People

The pilgrimage festivals were not simply religious obligations; they were national glue.

  • Unity in Diversity: Each tribe had its own territory, customs, and leadership. But Jerusalem reminded them that they were not twelve separate entities—they were one nation.
  • Physical Connection: The journey itself—families traveling for days from north, south, east, and west, THREE TIMES A YEAR—kept every Jew intimately connected to the city at the nation’s core.
  • Spiritual Focus: No matter how far they lived, Jews oriented their lives toward Jerusalem.

Without this ritual of convergence, the tribes might have drifted apart, their shared purpose diluted by distance and difference.


Now: Re-Centering Around Jerusalem

Fast forward over three millennia. Jerusalem is once again the capital of a sovereign Jewish state. But the modern challenge is becoming increasingly less about tribal dispersion, with Jews in the holy land making up a plurality of Jews – it is geopolitical pressure and strategic vulnerability.

Recent government plans to develop the area known as E1, just east of Jerusalem, have sparked international controversy. Critics claim the project is “obstructive to peace.” It’s an absurd claim. Supporters see it differently: as an essential step to connect Jewish communities around the capital, ensuring that Jerusalem remains safe and accessible and central to Jews from north, south, east, and west.

The parallels to Re’eh are striking:

  • Geographic Cohesion: Just as ancient pilgrimage routes tied the tribes together, modern infrastructure links surrounding communities to Jerusalem.
  • National Identity: Building around Jerusalem reinforces its role not just as a city, but as the beating heart of Jewish life.
  • Defying Fragmentation: Where outside forces seek to carve up and isolate Jerusalem, development ensures continuity and connection.

Jerusalem: The Eternal Center

Parshat Re’eh’s vision was never merely about geography—it was about survival through unity. When Jews journeyed to Jerusalem three times a year, they reaffirmed their covenant and their peoplehood. One God, one people.

Today, as Israel strengthens the areas around Jerusalem, it is engaged in the same mission: to keep the Jewish people close to their capital, secure in their homeland, and united across generations.

Then as now, Jerusalem is not just a place—it is the center of a people.

The Old City of Jerusalem including the Jewish Temple Mount on the holiday of Sukkot

Names and Narrative: “Settlers” and “Colonists”

For decades, the pro-Palestinian narrative labeled any Jew living east of the 1949 Jordanian Armistice Lines a “settler.” The term was never about accuracy but about framing. “Settler” implied that Jews were foreign interlopers, distinct from Arab residents who were cast as the indigenous population. So when Jewish and Arab families from Jaffa moved to Jerusalem’s Old City, only the Jews were called settlers. The transplanted Arab was considered at home, while the transplanted Jew was branded an intruder.

Even more strangely, the label of “settler” wasn’t tied to the founding of a new community. A Jew moving into an existing neighborhood—or even just a single apartment—could suddenly transform the entire edifice into a “settlement.” Words bent reality; the label carried the weight of illegitimacy.

But the terminology seems to be shifting. Wafa, the Palestinian Authority’s official media arm, now increasingly calls Jews in these areas not “settlers,” but “colonists.” The updated lingo seems to fit better with the intellectual currents flowing through Western universities, where post-colonial studies cast Jews as Europeans imposing themselves on native lands. Never mind that Jews are the indigenous people of Judea, Samaria, and Jerusalem, and that there are more Mizrachi Israeli Jews than Ashkenazi—the narrative works if repeated often enough.

Wafa website on August 19, 2025

If the key to eroding U.S. support for Israel lies in framing Jews as oppressors and colonizers, then the Palestinian Authority is adapting accordingly. By embracing this academic jargon, it aligns itself with progressive activists abroad.

Expect the United Nations, NGOs, and sympathetic media outlets to follow suit. Language is a weapon, and the word “colonist” sharpens the blade. The campaign is not just to vilify Jews east of an arbitrary line—it is to recast Jewish presence anywhere in the land as alien, invasive, and illegitimate.

Further, “settlers” is deeply embedded with an anti-Jewish narrative. A pivot to a generic smear appears less antisemitic as well as more universal in condemning the entire Western world’s imperialism and colonialism. Take on Jews everywhere in “Palestine.” Take on Americans throughout “Turtle Island.”

“Colonists” are the new cudgel in the effort to purge Jews from their homeland. It’s a deliberate term and effort, crafted so as to be easily next replicated against Americans by radicals as the new school year begins.

Eikev, On Consequences

Parshat Eikev is about consequences. Love God and cherish the land, and there will be abundance. Turn away from them, and the blessings will vanish. It’s not just poetic scripture—it’s a binding principle embedded in Jewish destiny.

In 2005, Israel withdrew from Gaza, handing the Strip to the Palestinian Authority. The move was framed as a step toward peace, but Palestinians internalized a different lesson from the Second Intifada: violence works. Within two years, Hamas was elected to a majority of the Palestinian parliament, seized power in Gaza, and rockets became Gaza’s chief export.

The same pattern played out decades earlier. In 1967, Israel reclaimed eastern Jerusalem from Jordan in a defensive war and reunified the city. Yet, instead of asserting Jewish sovereignty on the Temple Mount—the holiest site in Judaism—Israel handed day-to-day control to the Islamic Waqf which banned Jewish prayer there. The Muslim world absorbed the message: Jews do not value their holy places as deeply as Muslims do.

These choices raise the uncomfortable question: do Jews truly love the land and God in the way Eikev commands? The Bible is not just a Jewish text. Billions of non-Jews around the globe read it. They know its covenantal clauses and its warnings. They understand—at least in their own terms—the consequences that befall Jews when we turn from God’s love and from the eternal heritage of the land. Some may even see themselves as agents in delivering divine justice.

God knows. The world knows.

It is time for Jews to internalize this truth. The Shema’s first line is often recited aloud with pride. But the second section (starting at Deuteronomy 11:13), with its stark outline of blessings for faithfulness and curses for betrayal, is whispered—if said at all. Perhaps it’s time to say it aloud, not just with our lips, but with our lives: affirming an unbreakable commitment to God and to the holiness of the land.

In Israel, that would be building homes in the area known as “E1,” cementing all of Jerusalem including the Temple Mount as integral to Israel. In the diaspora, it means putting mezuzahs on doorposts and wearing tefillin (11:18-20).

The Old City of Jerusalem including the Jewish Temple Mount/ Al Aqsa Compound

Consequences are not an abstraction in the Torah—they are the lived reality of Jewish history. Eikev’s message is as urgent now as it was on the plains of Moab.

A Million for Gaza While Jewish Life In America Burns

The United States is experiencing the worst wave of antisemitism in modern memory. Jews are attacked in the streets of New York, vilified on college campuses, and shunned in social circles simply for being Jewish or supporting Israel. Synagogues and community centers are fortifying themselves like military outposts, while families weigh whether their children are safe wearing a Star of David in public.

In the middle of this siege on Jewish life, the UJA-Federation of New York proudly announced it would send $1 million in aid to Gaza as a “Jewish imperative.” The money will be funneled through an Israeli rescue nonprofit, ostensibly to provide humanitarian relief.

The federation’s leadership points to precedent: they’ve sent funds abroad before—to Turkey after an earthquake, to Ukraine after the Russian invasion. But this is not Turkey. It is not Ukraine. It’s also not Canada and Australia undergoing horrible antisemitism.

Gaza is not a neutral disaster zone. Its people have elected and support leaders who openly call for the murder of Israeli Jews. Its ruling terror group, Hamas, slaughtered 1,200 people in Israel on October 7, 2023, and still holds hostages. Polling has long shown majority support among Gazans for killing Jewish Israeli civilians and to destroy Israel. This is not a passive bystander to tragedy; it is a society that has gone to war against the Jewish state again and again.

The difference matters. When the federation sends aid to a country struck by natural disaster, it’s an act of humanity. When it sends aid to a population whose political and militant factions seek Jewish extermination – while in the middle of a war – it’s an act freighted with moral confusion.

The leadership may believe that giving to Gazans proves Jewish compassion “even to our enemies,” or helps with global optics. But for Jews watching their own safety erode daily in the United States and in other communities around the world, it looks like a failure to stand with their own community. It risks alienating the very donors who built the federation in the first place.

Charity is not limitless. Every dollar has an opportunity cost. And while Jewish students are harassed on campus, Jewish businesses vandalized, and Jewish institutions desperate for security funding, this million-dollar gesture to Gaza sends a clear message: in our hour of greatest vulnerability, the suffering of those sworn to kill us will be prioritized alongside, or even above, our own survival.

The empathy swamp is drowning us, blessed by community leaders.

American Jewry had managed with peacetime leadership for decades but it is time to replace them as the environment has shifted, and leaders have proven that they are not up to the moment.

Lanternflies and the Spread of Antisemitism

From nowhere they came — and now they’re everywhere. The spotted lanternfly, with its colorful delicate wings and destructive path, has infested the American landscape. It’s believed to have originated from China and, in just a few years, has spread across states, devastating crops and trees like the “tree of heaven,” its favorite host. The government seems incapable of containing it. Few natural predators exist. The infestation has become a symbol of bureaucratic failure and public resignation.

Spotted lanternfly

But some wonder: does this pestilence reflect something deeper, more corrosive — a cultural infestation?

In the wake of October 7, when thousands of Gazans crossed into Israel in a massacre they proudly broadcast around the world, antisemitism in America, Canada and Australia exploded. Synagogues were vandalized. Jewish cars were firebombed. Campus protests called for a “global intifada.” And the institutions tasked with standing guard — universities, governments, media — offered excuses, silence, or, worse, justifications.

Many point again to China, not just for the lanternfly, but for feeding antisemitism into western culture, especially through TikTok — a powerful delivery system for ideological poison. Others blame Qatar, which has poured billions into American universities that now shelter hatred under the guise of “free speech.” The Gaza war may have triggered the firestorm, but the kindling was laid long ago — through foreign influence, academic corruption, legal systems reluctant to confront hate when it wears the right colors and intersectional culture intent on vanishing Jews.

The response has been toothless. Protesters shut down airports and bridges with impunity. Cities release vandals hours after they’re arrested. Politicians decry antisemitism in speeches while voting to defund the very police tasked with protecting vulnerable communities. Universities who once claimed to be safe spaces now protect the mob instead of the beleaguered minority.

Like the lanternfly, antisemitism has become endemic. And just as officials tell us to stomp on the bugs as a civic duty, people now post videos taking down “protest” signs and washing off graffiti — not to eradicate the hate, but to vent helplessness.

We’ve reached a tipping point. Many have chosen to watch the wave rather than swim against it.

But Jews are not trees. Unlike the “tree of heaven,” the Jews have a history of moving, surviving, rebuilding. As America shrugs at the firebombs and broken windows, and as elected leaders dismiss Jewish fear as overreaction, a quiet migration begins. New York, Toronto, and Melbourne may look the same in ten years — but they will feel different. Not because the skyline will change, but because of the absence. The absence of a people whose presence once animated these places with faith, culture, and conscience.

Vienna was no longer Vienna after the Jews were rounded up and slaughtered, and French leaders know that France will no longer really be French if Jewish frustration and fear makes them move. But America has no such institutional memory. And as Americans elect younger and more inexperienced radical politicians, the destruction will accelerate.

Jews were forced to wear distinctive clothing in the Middle Ages and in Nazi Germany, and were tattooed in concentration camps before the annihilation was manifest. But it’s the moral corruption of the cities themselves that marks Jews for extinction; black sooty mold as the lanternflies feast and kill.

The last Jews will be those who see fellow Jews’ fears as fantasies, constellations drawn from a few distinct points like ancient mariners and pagans lost in heavenly thoughts. Perhaps those survivors will be the only Jews the West wants anyway: hearty crops which withstood the plague may have more in common with the new natural order.

Progressive Jews as the New Apostles

A friend recently attended a Shabbat dinner in New York City and came away shaken by the politics. Somewhere between the challah and the halva, she realized that nearly everyone at the table planned to vote for Zohran Mamdani for mayor. The same Democratic Socialist Mamdani who whitewashes slogans like “Globalize the Intifada,” who supports defunding the police, who has floated ideas about taxing “white neighborhoods” and redistributing wealth based on racial and ideological lines.

She was dumbfounded. How could fellow Jews support someone so openly hostile to the Jewish state, so enamored with radical ideologies, and so completely without experience?

Poll showing a majority of non-Orthodox and younger Jews supporting Zohran Mamdani

I pointed her to the recent conversation between Peter Beinart and Jon Stewart on The Daily Show. Two progressive Jews—one secular (Stewart), the other traditional (Beinart)—discussed Beinart’s new book Being Jewish After the Destruction of Gaza: A Reckoning. The 18-minute segment is deeply revealing. The entire interview should be watched here, but allow me to share some essential lessons—before and after viewing—that help explain why so many Jews, especially young urban progressives, are drawn to voices like Mamdani and Beinart.


Lesson 1: Empathy Above All

To understand the progressive worldview, you must begin with its North Star: empathy.

Numerous studies (one in Israel, from Pew Research and the Cato Institute) have shown that liberal parents prioritize teaching their children empathy far more than rules or tradition. In contrast, conservative parents emphasize justice, law, and the preservation of custom (hence more prevalent among Orthodox and older Jews.)

This foundational difference creates radically divergent outlooks on society. A progressive might prefer to risk letting many guilty people roam free than to wrongly incarcerate one innocent person. A conservative accepts that, tragically, some mistakes happen but that a functioning justice system must deliver accountability and deterrence.

That lens helps understand how different people see the Hamas War from Gaza. The progressive Jewish instinct is not to ask how such barbarism could happen on October 7, but to imagine what life must feel like under Israeli rule, or how starvation affects a child in Khan Younis.

So when Hamas raped and tortured Israelis, when they slaughtered entire families and burned babies alive, Stewart and Beinart give it a passing nod… then quickly pivot to the suffering of Palestinians in Gaza, who—in their view—are the true victims, regardless of what many of them supported or elected.

Lesson 2: Virtue Signaling as Moral Currency

Empathy doesn’t just sit as a value; it becomes a performance.

Among progressive Jews, virtue signaling is a sort of social currency. The more you publicly condemn your “privilege,” the more you highlight your efforts to engage the suffering, and the more elevated you become to your audience.

Beinart models this in the interview. He talks about how well his family is doing, how comfortable his life is in New York, and then contrasts that by expressing concern for Gazans. The clear message: Look how aware I am of my privilege, and how much I care about the “Other.” He is not just the model of progressive Jewry, but a self-anointed saint of Tikkun Olam, “repairing the world.”

But this empathy becomes hollow when it’s divorced from context. Where is his concern for the Israeli mothers whose sons are still buried beneath Gaza? Where is the recognition that Gazans elected Hamas and would do so again today? Where is the acknowledgment that Israel lives under constant threat from genocidal neighbors, that Israeli civilians are routinely targeted, and that Hamas has vowed to repeat October 7 “again and again”?

This isn’t empathy—it’s performative pity, practiced in the safety of a Manhattan studio. And it is toxic.

Peter Beinart and Jon Stewart on The Daily Show

The Problem of Projection

Beinart and Stewart approach Israel through the lens of American liberalism. They treat it as if it should behave like the U.S.—a country of immigrants with separation of church and state, with no ethnic identity at its core. A massive country with only two neighbors, each of which is no threat.

But Israel was not created to be an echo of America. It is the reestablished homeland of the Jewish people, in a region dominated by theocratic regimes. It’s not just a democracy—it’s an ethnic democracy, forged out of centuries of persecution and built in response to repeated extermination campaigns. It is a small country surrounded by hostile neighbors with ever-present security threats.

Israel cannot survive if it mimics U.S. norms. It has different rules because IT IS DIFFERENT and faces existential threats the U.S. does not. Yet Beinart and Stewart project their own experiences as comfortable, wealthy New York Jews onto a situation they cannot fully grasp—and then fault Israelis for not aligning with their fantasy of liberalism. It is an impossible liberal standard in the Middle East, and they fault the Jewish State for coming up short.


Progressive Jews Are Winning the Narrative—But At What Cost?

Beinart wants to be the prophet of the next generation of Jews—disillusioned, skeptical of Israel, obsessed with universal empathy. He’s the aspiring Grand Rebbe of Tikkun Olam. Stewart plays the court jester to the progressive tribe on his popular show, delivering cathartic lines that avoid hard truths.

Together, they are shaping a Jewish worldview in which Israel is an embarrassment to be shunned, and October 7 is a short footnote to be ignored. The primary directive is to lead with empathy, which is always directed away from oneself, and towards those perceived as underdogs. Whether those weaker individuals intend to do harm can ideally be rationalized. Better still, the AsAJew credentials provide a get-out-of-jail free card, absolving the sin and sinner by the highest authorities. If Hamas cannot or will not change, then Jewish victims must forgive the wicked party, grant their wishes, and risk their lives again as the pathway towards peace and coexistence. They are modern-day Jesuses delivering the sermon on the Mount – via cable TV.

That’s why voting for someone like Mamdani doesn’t feel like a betrayal—it feels like moral progress ensconced in a Jewish-like religion. Accept abuse as the toxic cleanse of particularism and embrace the abuser in the spiritual bath of universalism.

In the name of empathy, they abandon solidarity. In the name of justice, they ignore murder. In the name of virtue, they vote for those who vilify their own.

That’s not progressive. That’s perverse.


Final Thoughts

People should have empathy for children suffering. Every child is inherently innocent, born and raised as a product of their environment. But understand that for twenty-five years – a generation – two-thirds of Gazans have wanted to see Jewish civilians in Israel murdered. Gaza’s children have been victims for a long time, of a perverse society.

“Being Jewish after Gaza,” for progressives is a swamp of guilt, seeing Gaza as a killing field by right-wing Israeli Islamophobes. For conservatives, “after Gaza” means freedom, recognizing Gaza as a terrorist enclave steeped in a profound moral “deformity.” Both may have elements of truth, but neither side can imagine the validity of the other.

In the Middle East, progressive like Peter Beinart see Jews as supremacists. In New York, progressives like teacher union boss Randi Weingarten see city Jews as the “ownership class,” and WESPAC’s Howard Horowitz visualizes Jewish Zionists as racists. These progressives portray Jews around the world as rich, capitalist victimizers who cannot claim the mantle of victimhood, even after the October 7 massacre.

They are teaching young, progressive and non-Orthodox Jews to lead with select and projected empathy. In New York City, they can create a manifest destiny with votes for the alt-left, far more tangible than prancing with placards about something thousands of miles away.

Young New York Jews are picking up the “intifada” chant – Arabic for “shaking off” – of the Jewish State and pro-Israel Jews. At this moment, they may not recognize the jihad they have joined. Time will tell whether they will care when it inevitably turns violent on the most persecuted minority-minority.

And that’s how the show is supposed to end anyway, right? Jesus on the cross. But the epilogue has a pivot, seeking empathy-squared: Jesus was a Jew. Now the Jews are Jesus.

The grand rebbes of Tikkun Olam are the new apostles for Zohran Mamdani.

Related:

The Empathy Swamp (January 2024)

Anti-Semites Don’t Ride In Cattle Cars (September 2022)

When Only Republicans Trust the Police (July 2018)

The United Nations’ Adoption of Palestinians, Enables It to Only Find Fault With Israel (March 2016)

Why WESPAC?

When IsraelAnalysis.com first reported an act of anti-Israel vandalism on the streets of White Plains, it pointed to the possibility of WESPAC—a long-standing left-wing activist group with a record of anti-Israel rhetoric—as being behind the hate-fueled attack. While no individual has been arrested or charged, the suspicion is not without reason. The question arises: why WESPAC?

Let’s start with timing. The graffiti appeared around 5:00 p.m. on the Ninth of Av, the somber Jewish fast day that mourns the destruction of the First and Second Temples in Jerusalem. WESPAC planned a “urgent vigil for the children of Gaza” at the same time the next day in Peekskill. That city lies further north in Westchester, while many of WESPAC’s most vocal “activists” live in southern Westchester, including White Plains. “Solidarity” for these comrades in southern Westchester may have brought them out on a sunny Sunday.

WESPAC ad for a vigil for Gaza in northern Westchester

Moreover, the vandalized site itself—a street decorated with American and Israeli flags—was an obvious magnet for anti-Israel agitators. What better canvas for those hoping to make a statement on a Jewish day of mourning than one visually celebrating the very state they protest?

But the context runs deeper.

WESPAC has long used the veneer of social justice to cloak its deeply anti-Israel agenda. In neighboring Hartsdale, the group confronted Jews filled with virulent anti-Israel rhetoric. And the current chair of WESPAC, Howard Horowitz, isn’t just a local—he’s a paradoxical figure leading the Israel Action Committee at Temple Israel of New Rochelle, even while aligning publicly with radical anti-Zionist groups like Jewish Voice for Peace (JVP) and IfNotNow.

Horowitz’s own writings are telling. He lashed out at Jewish residents of New Rochelle who had the temerity to run for school board seats, accusing them—and by extension the broader Jewish community—of racism against people of color. He has taken aim at “the vast majority [who] repeat the “I stand with Israel” declarations, disregarding the horrific facts on the ground” in Gaza, making the banner-lined street in White Plains a perfect target for his vitriol. He further believes that such pro-Israel proclamation “denigrates the Jewish tragedies” like the Ninth of Av, making the fast day an appropriate moment to attack Israel supporters.

Horowitz makes no bones about mocking Jewish “nationalism” as evil and “antithetical to Yiddishkeit,” even while he advocates for Arab nationalism. That’s his right, but it doesn’t put him or his group beyond the sphere of suspicion.

As reported by Lohud, the media site covering the lower Hudson Valley, ADL reported that in 2024, Westchester was unique among the suburbs of New York City, to have an increase in antisemitic incidents, a rise of 22% from 2023. Rockland, Nassau and Suffolk counties had declines of 11%, 36% and 26%, respectively. The disparity had much to do with anti-Israel groups including JVP, Palestinian Youth Movement and Democratic Socialist of America – all groups aligned and supported by WESPAC.

Lohud article on rise of antisemitism in New York and Westchester County

To be clear: no direct evidence has emerged tying WESPAC—or Horowitz—to this act of vandalism in White Plains. But in a county like Westchester, where anti-Israel rhetoric has become increasingly normalized in certain activist circles, and where groups like WESPAC operate openly with impunity, the suspicion is understandable.

This wasn’t random graffiti. It was a calculated message, timed for maximum symbolic effect. It struck at a street display of solidarity, and a people commemorating thousands of years of trauma.

And when neighbors ask: Who would do something like this?—it’s not hard to see why eyes turn toward the radical group operating, quite literally, just down the street.

From Devarim to Today: Firsthand Testimony as a Covenant Across Generations

In Parshat Devarim, Moses begins his final speech to the Israelites. He does not begin with the Creation of the world or the stories of the Jewish patriarchs and matriarchs. The Book of Genesis — with its grand universal themes and personal family journeys — is set aside. Instead, Moses focuses on the collective journey he himself witnessed: the liberation from Egypt, the giving of the Ten Commandments, the rebellions and reckonings in the wilderness. It is as though this is where the Jewish people’s national story truly begins.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks observed that Deuteronomy is not just a repetition of laws — it is Moses’ personal testimony, his urgent effort to pass on memory, meaning, and mission. As the Israelites stand poised to enter the Land, Moses knows he will not go with them. What he offers instead is the one thing only he can give: the lived truth of experience.

This resonates today more than ever. We are witnessing the passing of another generation of eyewitnesses: the survivors of the Holocaust and the founders of the modern State of Israel. Like Moses, they saw the journey with their own eyes — from slavery and destruction to sovereignty and rebuilding. They walked from Auschwitz to Jerusalem. They built a state out of the ashes, defended it in war, and gave it the infrastructure of a living, breathing nation.

Their stories — of suffering and survival, of faith and fortitude — are not just history lessons. They are testaments. And they come with a charge: to remember, to be vigilant, to defend our people and our land, and to carry forward the values of Torah and the reality of Jewish nationhood.

Just as Moses recounted the past to prepare the people for the future, so too must we internalize the legacy of those who came before us. Their firsthand accounts are not simply about what was, but about what must be. A people grounded in memory is a people prepared for destiny.

If we listen to their voices — and not merely archive them — we gain strength to resist the deniers, the revisionists, and the haters. We reaffirm that we are not just a people with a past, but a people with a purpose — a covenantal mission that stretches from Sinai to today.

Kotel Plaza