I lived in Jerusalem. I worked at the Bank of Israel, walked the streets of that ancient and extraordinary city, and understood in a way that is hard to put into words why the Jewish people’s connection to that land is not political; it is existential. When Jews around the world say “L’Shana Haba’ah B’Yerushalayim,” next year in Jerusalem, they are expressing something that no election, no policy, and no mayor can undo.
But this Tisha B’Av, the Jewish people’s most solemn day of mourning, a man wearing a kippah walked out of his synagogue on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, in the congressional district I am running to represent, and was stabbed in the chest with a screwdriver. The attacker shouted “Allahu Akbar.” He has since been charged with hate crimes.
I love New York City too much to pretend otherwise. New York City is America’s city. It is the center of global enterprise, home to the largest Jewish population outside of Israel, and a place where millions of people have built their lives on the promise that hard work and talent are rewarded regardless of who you are or where you came from.
That promise is now under direct threat – not just from crime, but from the political climate that enables it.
New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani has spent months excoriating Israel from his official platforms, calling AIPAC “monsters,” refusing to condemn the phrase, “Globalize the Intifada,” and backing congressional candidates whose campaigns were built on anti-Israel rhetoric.
His viral video accusing Israel of war crimes, released days before the stabbing, was viewed nearly 90 million times. Jewish organizations warned immediately that it placed New Yorkers at risk. They were right.
The silence and failure of my Democratic opponent and many other politicians in our city to quickly, and in no uncertain terms, condemn the mayor’s rhetoric before the violence that ensued is telling. Enough is enough.
I am not running to make a political point. I am running because I believe in New York City, and the promise and opportunity it represents to all of us, and to the world. I am running because New York City cannot afford to become a place where anyone lives in fear, and where Jewish residents are afraid to walk home from synagogue.
I believe that leadership requires saying difficult things clearly, without hedging, without qualification, and without one eye on the political winds. At a time when antisemitism is rising in our streets, on our campuses, and across our culture, silence is not leadership. And neither is looking away.
New York’s 12th Congressional District, which includes the Upper West Side, the Upper East Side, and Midtown Manhattan, among other areas, is one of the most Jewish districts in America. It is also, right now, one of the most important races in the country.