Draw the Lines

Slowly but steadily, there are increasing sanctions on Israeli actors responsible for implementing human rights violations in occupied Palestinian territories. The UK just announced new sanctions against West Bank outposts. Secretary of State Anthony Blinken warned Israel that if it doesn't increase the flow of aid into the Gaza Strip, military aid might be cut off. And in one of the more symbolically (if probably not tangibly) impactful moves, Canada revoked the charitable status of the Jewish National Fund* due in part to its activities in the occupied West Bank.

Given the ubiquity in the diaspora Jewish imagination of JNF's little blue boxes, the Canadian decision was a bombshell, and the Canadian Jewish community is reportedly aghast, and claiming that it is being unfairly targeted by a biased organization. I'm not a Canadian lawyer, and so I won't comment on the underlying legal issues. Speaking broadly though, JNF's historical importance does not and should not give it any immunity to violate Canadian non-profit laws or to funnel "charitable" donations to projects that violate Canadian policy, which absolutely can include projects that retrench Israel's occupation of the West Bank and which stymie the project of Palestinian statehood. Blue box or no, there is no right to leverage Canada's tax code to flout Canada's foreign policy priorities regarding Israel and Palestine.

The one thing that does give me pause is the claim that the Canadian tax authorities have refused to tell JNF exactly which activities are out of compliance or how to get back into compliance. That seems troublesome. JNF absolutely should be given clear guidance about what it the tax authorities deem to be compliant and non-compliant activities, at which point JNF can decide whether it wants to come into compliance or not (and the public can decide whether the rules are or are not reasonable). Draw the lines clearly about what is and is not permissible, and let the chips fall where they may -- but secret rules smack of punitive targeting. Other than that, though, my general view is that it is up to Jewish charities to stay in compliance with the law, and it is entirely reasonable for the law to declare that aiding the occupation is not a charitable endeavor.

* The article on this story did give me one blast from the past moment. It extensively quoted Corey Balsam, head of Independent Jewish Voices, praising the decision to revoke JNF's charitable status. That name rang a bell -- Corey Balsam was who I cited in my White Jews: An Intersectional Approach paper arguing that even non-White Jews were functionally "whitened" by virtue of being Jewish. He made that argument in a graduate school thesis paper, so seeing his name pop up again was a fun "where are they now" moment.

Kyrsten Sinema: The Origin Story

Here are some quotes from a politician currently stumping in Michigan, rallying voters around the 2024 presidential race:

• "[W]e do have a real opportunity to win something historic. We could deny Kamala Harris the state of Michigan. And the polls show that most likely Harris cannot win the election without Michigan."

• "[The goal is] fighting to defeat Harris, not just symbolically but in reality. This is ground zero to punish Kamala Harris and defeat her."

• "Ultimately, Harris is a more reliable and consistently controllable tool for billionaire interests."

• "The Democrats were the party of slavery, and of slave owners — that’s in their history."

Now here is my question for you, dear reader: Based on these quotes, do you think this politician is (a) an utterly unremarkable, bog-standard conservative promoting the MAGA right, or (b) a self-described "leftist" campaigning on behalf of Jill Stein?

Guesses in? Answer: It's a trick question! Self-described "leftists" campaigning on behalf of Jill Stein are utterly unremarkable, bog-standard conservatives promoting the MAGA right!

Anyone who was baffled by Kyrsten Sinema's "journey" from the Green Party to obnoxious contrarian "independent" doesn't pay attention to what the Green Party is all about. Though in fairness, even at her worst Kyrsten Sinema never came out and actively campaigned on behalf of Donald Trump.

(The politician in question is former Seattle city councilor Kshama Sawant, who was elected under the banner of the Trotskyist-Socialist "Socialist Alternative" party but, in true splitter fashion, has broken away to form two new organizations -- "Workers Strike Back" and the "Revolutionary Workers" party).

How Awful They Must Be, To Compel Us To Do Such Dreadful Things

I'm writing this post today, because all indicators suggest that tomorrow will be a terrible day.

It is a hazard of being Jewish that the commemorations of our worst moments are, for too many, an opportunity to victimize us further. The flurry of October 7 events that seek to reframe the day away from Hamas' massacre and onto the claim of an Israeli genocide are a case in point -- they are rhetorical salvos against the right of Jews to even grieve, against anything that might suggest that they, too, are inside the communities of concern. Those who say "the genocide didn't begin on October 7" prove too much: if the genocide didn't begin on October 7, then October 7 is not a distinctive date for commemorating the genocide save for those who argue -- with varying degrees of explicitness -- that "the genocide" makes October 7 justifiable or even praiseworthy.

I make that point wholly cognizant of the fact that for others, it is the Palestinian people who cannot be allowed to count as people, whose grief can only be understood as so much performance and manipulation. It is the same basic moral disease, only goring a different ox, and nobody should confuse recognizing the reality of what's happening tomorrow with some sort of tout court denialism of Palestinians right to grieve. Yet one catastrophe amongst many over the past year has been the choice of too many to view acknowledgment of legitimate grief as a zero-sum phenomenon -- we can only truly be in solidarity with these folks if we commit to truly hating those folks.

As terrible as that conclusion is, in a sense it does not surprise me. Many Jews were shocked at how rapidly October 7 seemed to accelerate a sense of hatred against Jews and Israelis. How was it that many people, it seemed, appeared to hate Jews and Israelis more, and more passionately, and more vocally, in the aftermath of October 7 than they did before? But I was not that surprised. Indeed, I understood this response as quite rational -- at least, from a given point of view. If one is truly committed to a pure politics of solidarity, of uncritical defense and apologia of anything and everything occurring under your banner, then the only way to metabolize an atrocity like October 7 is to flee into a deeper cavern of hatred and dehumanization. "How awful they must be, to compel us to do such dreadful things." The more dreadful the thing, the more awful they must be; for surely we and ours would never do engage in such murderous barbarism unless it was against the truly monstrous.

Lest anyone get too smug, this is the same basic impulse behind that sermon I heard last week in synagogue. The theme there, too, was to redirect the congregation's presumed aversion and revulsion towards the scenes of devastation in Gaza and in Lebanon, and explain why they actually showed the depths of our enemies' depravity -- they must be monsters indeed, to force those as righteous as us into such terrible acts. How awful they are, that they force us into such dreadful things. Or take that famous Golda Meir quote, "We can forgive the Arabs for killing our children. We cannot forgive them for forcing us to kill their children." 

It's the same theme, repeated ad nauseum. Recall what Montesquieu said about the Spanish atrocities against the indigenous population of the Americas:

Once the Spainards had begun their cruelties, it became especially important to say that "it is impossible to suppose these creatures [the indigenous population] to be men, because allowing them to be men a suspicion might arise that we were not Christian." 

And so too here. An earlier generation predicted that "The Germans Will Never Forgive the Jews for Auschwitz." Now it seems that Palestine solidarity advocates will never forgive the Israelis for 10/7, and the pro-Israel community will never forgive the Palestinians for the war in Gaza. Over and over again, the last atrocity is used to justify the next atrocity, and everyone it seems must play along as a means of expressing "solidarity".

So I expect tomorrow to be a terrible day, and not wholly or even primarily because it commemorates another terrible day. It will be terrible because it be an exclamation mark upon a year's worth of usage of atrocity as its own justification, a terrible cycle of self-generating and self-affirming hatred. Somehow worse than "they did this horror to us, so we must do that horror unto them" (and that's bad enough!), it will be "we did this horror unto them, so we must construct an even more vile image of who they are in order to justify it."

All I will say -- in acknowledged futility -- is that these are choices. It does not have to be this way. We can choose a different path. We can allow for Jews to grieve without complication for those lives destroyed October 7. We can allow for Palestinians to grieve without complication for those lives destroyed in the war on Gaza. We can choose to use tomorrow, and any other day, as an opportunity to deepen empathy and encourage different choices.

If that feels futile, maybe it is. I can't fathom any way to make Bibi Netanyahu choose differently, or Yahya Sinwar, or Columbia's CUAD students, or criminal UCLA "counter-protesters", or Tom "bounce the rubble" Cotton", or Ali Khamenei, or MAGA-hat extremists or professors with paraglider pictures pinned to their profile pics. Their choice to pursue politics of antagonism and hatred and dehumanization may be forever beyond me. Or forget them -- there are all too many people in my immediate circles, friends and loved ones, who I already know I will never be able to make choose differently, and that impotent thought hurts me immeasurably.

But I can choose differently. You can choose differently. Each of us can be a little better than what's going on around us. And who knows? Maybe a lot of people being a little better will make a bigger difference than one might think.

So as hard as it is, try to avoid the awful things that will pervade tomorrow -- the many, many, many voices that will try to persuade you to turn towards hatred and antagonism and extremism. And equally importantly, resist the inclination to flee so far in the other direction that you just develop a polar opposite hatred, antagonism, and extremism. Commit, tomorrow, to a different choice. I'll try my best too. We won't be perfect. But it's the best way I can think of to truly commemorate such a terrible day.

The Sermon Every Jew But Me Heard Every Week

One supposedly ubiquitous aspect of millennial Jewish upbringing that I do not at all relate to is the storyline where their Jewish education was a completely uncritical and unsophisticated "Israel right-or-wrong" drumbeat, one which eventually shattered upon the reality of going to college or meeting Palestinian friends or visiting Israel and the occupied territories. This story is omnipresent amongst Jews of my generation, and it just never resonated with me. I never felt like my Israel education was so inflexible, and so I never had the experience of it crashing into the real world.

The synagogue I grew up in was, admittedly, in many ways atypical. It wasn't especially liberal (no more so than is normal for a Jewish congregation, anyway), but its location in the DC suburbs meant it did have quite a few genuine experts on Israel and the Middle East (well beyond the armchair experts I imagine one can find in any synagogue pew). Their views were by no mean unchallengeable and the environment was certainly unabashedly "pro-Israel", but it did mean we perhaps avoided some of the more nakedly crude manifestations of pro-Israel politics.

This apparent idiosyncrasy in my upbringing has really jumbled my ability to connect with the zeitgeist. On the one hand, I hear the aforementioned tales of Rabbis giving these near-comical caricatures of the "true" contours of the Israel/Palestine conflict, and I can't help but be skeptical -- that's certainly not how I remember it. On the other hand, you hear it often enough and you have to think that maybe I'm just the weird one. While I certainly wouldn't characterize myself as detached from the organized Jewish community, it is the case that my connection to a synagogue has been sporadic in my adult life (if only because I moved around so much) -- so I have little in the way of comparison to juxtapose against the synagogue I grew up with.

But the imminent arrival of a little one in our family has finally prompted us to begin synagogue shopping in earnest, and over the high holidays we've been surveying various congregation's services. One congregation in particular checks a lot of our boxes -- a vibrant community, lots of young families, excellent early childhood resources, and we were excited to try out their services for the first time.

At the same time, I was seeing a flurry of posts and resources talking about how anti-Zionist or Israel-critical Jews were struggling to find welcoming Jewish communal spaces -- where could they go to high holiday services where they wouldn't be bombarded with hasbara defenses of the war in Gaza? And I will admit -- I was feeling skeptical. "Bombarded"? Come on. My own experiences made me exceptionally dubious that there would be much beyond the anodyne and unobjectionable. There'd probably be an Israeli flag on the bimah, and a prayer for the state of Israel, and statements of concern for the hostages and spiking antisemitism on college campuses. If that's what passes for an unwelcoming atmosphere, I'd say deal with it.

And so I attended services, which were quite lovely, and then the Rabbi stood to give his sermon. And it didn't take long for me to realize "oh, so this is the sermon that every Jew of my generation but me is talking about."

My first thought -- since I was synagogue-shopping and so had recently seen exactly how much it costs to join a synagogue -- was "I could just subscribe to Commentary and save a lot of money!" The second thought was to remember all the wonderful programs and suddenly understand why people join megachurches ("I may not agree with the pastor's politics, but my goodness what a preschool!"). I asked my wife her thoughts, and she said "honestly, I just tuned him out" (probably another regular facet of Jewish experience that I don't relate to -- the Rabbi at my childhood synagogue may well be the single most compelling orator I've ever met in my life).

In terms of the sermon itself, I'm not going to go to deep into the substantive details. The nicest thing I could say about the speech was that it was, at best, a good twenty-plus years out of date in speaking of an Israeli government that of course wants nothing more than peace, but alas must deal with the reality that the Palestinians will settle for nothing less than maximal and total victory. This does not, to say the least, aptly characterize the current Israeli government; much of the ideology the Rabbi imputed to Hamas and Hezbollah resonated just as strongly with Ben-Gvir, Smotrich, or yes, Netanyahu -- all of whom have proven entirely willing to sabotage prospects of peace for a chance at complete and utter dominion between the river and the sea.

At root, the sermon read as an attempt to rally a wavering audience to continue to back a war without end whose suffering has been immeasurable, because the belief that a peaceful solution can be achieved is just so much Western naivete. And it was made worse because the sermon did contain the periodic rhetorical gestures in a liberal direction -- a concession that the occupation is a problem here, a willingness to admit Bibi hasn't been perfect there. Hearing such sentiments expressed as brief asides amidst a sea of "we are fighting a culture of death" jeremiads made me understand why so many of my peers view such positions as meaningless smokescreens -- they were not actual concessions; they were balms meant to reassure the audience of its own virtue. And more broadly, if this was the Israel-outlook that I was exposed to as a teenager, then I absolutely would've gotten clobbered when reality hit in adulthood.

Again, I was not prepared for this. In fact, I had a different blog post ready to roll that was all about there being a spectrum of Jewish opinion out there and the broad tent had room for a variety of voices. The week before I had just been invited to give a talk at the Eastside Jewish Commons, and nobody had any qualms about my own harsh critiques of the Israeli government (and indeed on the bulletin board in the space I saw a posting for the Center for Jewish Non-Violence, advertising its work of "co-resistance and solidarity against Israeli occupation and apartheid." I was planning to buttress that experience by reference to my High Holiday experience, which (I was already drafting in my mind) was a High Holiday experience, not a Bibi Netanyahu appreciation tour.

Now, to be sure, I'm still not convinced my initial instincts regarding communal pluralism were fully off-base. Leaving aside the wrongness of making judgments off of an n of 1, even at this very synagogue, the other Rabbi had just written a column about the importance of choosing peace even as her colleague was delivering an ode to the virtues of war. So one might say that Jews engaging in aggressive pro-war politicking is just as much part of a pluralism as Jews organizing to demand a ceasefire is. And again, as much as people say that any "whiff" of dissent results in an insta-purge from mainline Jewish spaces, I feel like I have dissented more than a whiff and I remain unpurged. So what am I doing that's so special? 

But nonetheless, I had a prediction of how I expected the High Holidays to go, and it was falsified. I could have just kept that to myself, of course -- none of you would have been the wiser. But it felt more honest to relay the experience.

We Don't Know What a Fast Garland World Would've Looked Like

It is almost certain that Donald Trump is going to run out the clock on facing real legal consequences for his myriad 2020 election related crimes before the 2024 election occurs. Consequently, many are blaming Attorney General Merrick Garland for being too slow and cautious in his prosecution of Trump. By taking so much time before bringing his case, Garland enabled Trump's various delaying tactics -- aided, of course, by loyalist judges at both the trial level and Supreme Court -- to stretch the cases out until after election day. Had he moved faster and more aggressively, things would have been different.

Maybe. But the thing about alternate futures is that we can't live there; and if we did live there, we wouldn't know here. Suppose that Garland did move fast and aggressive on Trump right at the outset of Biden's term. And suppose that right-wing judges such as the current Supreme Court majority, or Judge Cannon, issued the same rulings that they did in our timeline -- providing broad immunity to Trump designed to shield him from legal accountability. I suspect that, in that timeline, there would be a lot blame cast at Garland for moving too quickly -- he rushed things, he let political expediency get in the way of methodically building a case, and so he gave the courts an excuse to slow things down or even to cast his investigation as a witch-hunt rather than a genuinely legalistic inquiry. Had he been more temperate, things would've gone differently

Now, since we live in our timeline, we know that a more temperate and methodical approach would not have led to a success story. But the point is not just that it's always easy to speak with the benefit of hindsight. It is that we actually don't know what alternative paths-not-taken would look like, and if we did know we wouldn't know what was happening in our path. This is a ubiquitous problem, and while it is entirely reasonable given what we know now to say that Garland made the wrong judgment, it is not hard to imagine a very plausible timeline where Garland made the judgment we (in the prime timeline) say is clearly "right" and it is widely viewed (in the alternate timeline) as a terrible and eminently avoidable miscalculation.

Teshuva in Springfield

When I first saw a story about the Rabbi of Springfield, Ohio giving his views on the Trump campaign's racist invective targeting Haitian migrants, I was heartened at what I assumed would be a clarion call to stand by the stranger in our midst. Then I read the actual story, where the Rabbi instead echoes the hostility in the worst way -- contending that Haitians lack "Western civilized values", stating that "white, Anglo-Saxon Protestant" residents were being "disenfranchised", and contrasting today's immigrants from Jews whom, he said, "wanted to assimilate, they wanted to be good Americans" -- and I felt embarrassed and sad. As much as Ohio and national Jewish organizations might speak otherwise, this would be -- both locally and nationally -- seen as the paradigmatic "Jewish" take.

There has, however, been a modest update to this story, which I found a bit more heartening. The actual Jews in Springfield (it's a small community; this Rabbi commutes from Columbus) made clear that they did not endorse or accept these sentiments. They pushed their Rabbi to do better -- to issue an apology, to acknowledge his lack of knowledge of the actual circumstances of both the community and of their new Haitian neighbors, and to meet with representatives of the Haitian community,

“I was not well-informed on the situation with the Haitian immigrants,” [Rabbi Cary] Kozberg said. “Since the interview, I have learned much more about the immigration situation in Springfield. My opinions have definitely been modified.”

Kozberg made his statement alongside Temple Sholom’s president, Laurie Leventhal, who told the Observer that her rabbi made a “mistake” and would be pursuing teshuvah, or the Jewish process of repentance.

“We are not giving him a pass,” Leventhal said. “He has asked lots of questions and learned lots of stuff about what’s going on in Springfield, and he has changed his views. And that is how human beings grow. And that is what we are about. And I hope that you will not go on a witch-hunt and take a situation in a city that is so hurting and make it worse.”

This was coupled by additional moves by area Jewish organizations to express support for the Haitian community:

Viles Dorsainvil, a local Haitian community leader in Springfield and the executive director of the Haitian Community Health and Support Center, told JTA on Monday he hadn’t been aware of Kozberg’s comments and hasn’t received any communication from the rabbi. But he said he had been glad to receive a letter of support from the Dayton Jewish Federation, which the federation had sent to him on the same day JTA published Kozberg’s interview.

In their letter, the federation heads introduced themselves as “your Jewish neighbors to the west” and added, “It is a core tenet of our faith to ‘welcome the stranger.’ We, along with so many others of different faiths and cultures, whose ancestors made this journey before you over the decades, support your quest, and welcome you. We are sending all our virtual thoughts of goodwill your way, including our prayers for your safety.”

The letter was touching, Dorsainvil said. “We’re so happy that the Jewish community in Dayton reached out to us,” he said, adding that he, too, saw similarities between what Jewish immigrants to the United States experienced in the past and what Haitian migrants are currently experiencing. 

I'm not asking anyone to give Kozberg a prize here. For one, he hasn't really done anything yet. I'd also suggest that "Most people don’t know me as a racist" doesn't quite communicate the sentiment that Kozberg I think is trying to get across. And even amongst his congregants, there is a split between those who think his apology is "genuine", and those who more circumspectly "hope" that it is. The local Jewish news coverage indicates that Kozberg maybe has a bit more of a self-pitying streak than might otherwise be let on, quoting him repeatedly suggesting that the initial interview he did was a "politicized" and "taken out of context." I'd also note the congregation, even as they recoil against his "racist" statements, is standing by him as their Rabbi -- noting that they have a thirty-year history they're looking across whereas all the rest of us are only accounting for this past week. It is a fair note, and one that I hope we can remember with regard to other potential instances where someone imbricated in a particular small community spikes to prominence for acts of (real, genuine) bigotry and is not immediately met with exile.

But on the whole, what I'm really flagging and really heartened by is not Kozberg but the Springfield Jewish community. When someone they loved and who they were close to and who was their leader stepped out, they stepped up. They demanded accountability. They used their own voices to try and set things right. It's never fully possible to make these wounds whole. But I've seen far, far worse attempts than this, and I hope the project of Teshuva and repair continues to make amends and build new bonds in Springfield.

Jonathan Greenblatt Trusts Donald Trump

Yesterday, I flagged one of the scarier entries in my "Things People Blame the Jews For" series when Donald Trump baldly asserted that if he lost, it would be the Jews' fault. It was a clear foundation for a "stabbed in the back" narrative that puts Jews at tremendous risk in an environment where far-right antisemitism increasingly isn't all that "far", but has penetrated every nook and cranny of the modern conservative movement.

Unsurprisingly, these comments were met with outrage by many Jewish institutions and leaders. That's appropriate and well-earned. Donald Trump and the MAGA movement he leads is a menace to the American Jewish community, and Jews have never hesitated to identify it as exactly what it is. But in that context, I have to flag the particular statement by ADL chief Jonathan Greenblatt, which stood out for its unimaginable fecklessness, particularly from the putative leading voice against antisemitic hate. Here's what Greenblatt wrote:

Here we go again.

I appreciate that former President Trump called out antisemitism and recognized its historic surge. 

He's right on that. 

But the effect is undermined by then employing numerous antisemitic tropes and anti-Jewish stereotypes — including rampant accusations of dual loyalty.

Preemptively blaming American Jews for your potential election loss does zero to help American Jews. It increases their sense of alienation in a moment of vulnerability when right-wing extremists and left-wing antizionists continually demonize and slander Jews. This is happening on college campuses, in public places, everywhere. There are threats on all sides, period.

Let’s be clear, this speech likely will spark more hostility and further inflame an already bad situation. Calling out hate is important, but I can’t overstate how the message is diluted and damaged when you employ hate to make your point.

What is striking about this is how it bends over backwards to assume Trump is actually an ally of the Jews. He's a good guy! He's our friend! It opens, incredibly enough, by lauding Trump for having "called out antisemitism", and closes by praising him for "calling out hate". The framing is entirely centered around a premise that Trump is trying his level best to help the Jews, but is sadly undercutting his own best efforts by ill-chosen rhetoric or misplaced blame.

This is the theme. His efforts against antisemitism are "undermined" by his antisemitic tropes -- not that his antisemitic tropes are promoting exactly the sort of antisemitism he intends to promote. His setting up Jews to take the blame "does zero to help American Jews" -- again, assuming the goal is to help American Jews and he's failing, not that he's trying to threaten American Jews and succeeding. There's the de rigueur (for Greenblatt) pivot to taking a shot at left-wing antizionists who, whatever their sins, have nothing to do with this conversation. And finally, he concludes by saying that Trump's efforts are "diluted" and "damaged" by his forays into hate -- again, a framing that takes as a given that Trump is intending to be a friend of the Jews but is inexplicably hurting his own cause.

This is a framing I've seen regularly in how Greenblatt talks about Trump's antisemitism (and Elon Musk, for that matter). And it stands in obvious contrast to how he speaks of perceived antisemitism on the left -- say, from campus pro-Palestine encampments -- whom, it should be said, also frame their actions as in pursuit of a broader paradigm of opposing bigotry and inequality, antisemitism included. Needless to say, antizionist protesters accused of antisemitism are not given Trump's courtesy treatment of a compliment sandwich. One cannot imagine Greenblatt opening his remarks about antisemitic invective in collegiate encampments by frontloading his appreciation that they "called out antisemitism." One can scarcely fathom him framing his criticisms of antisemitic tropes or actions in terms of the protesters "undermining" their attempts at showing solidarity with Jews, or "doing zero to help" the Jews on campus, or "diluting" their anti-racist message, or anything else that suggests that the protesters' antisemitism is some sort of accidental stumble at odds with their true intention of being allies of the Jews.

Now one could say that the reason Greenblatt doesn't speak of the campus protesters in those terms is that he does not see any basis to credit their self-avowed bona fides as opponents of antisemitism. They have not earned such trust in the face of their actions. Leave aside whether that's a fair dismissal; leave aside whether he's right in what he adjudges antisemitic at all. The point is that if the defense of Greenblatt not giving the anti-Zionist left praise and gratitude before criticizing their usage of antisemitic tropes is that he does not believe they have earned Jews' trust, then it follows the reason he's so gentle with Donald Trump is that Greenblatt believes Trump is fundamentally trustworthy. I can think of no more damning indictment of his judgment, as a putative leader in the fight against antisemitism, than that. And that colossal failure of judgment is ultimately why Greenblatt has proven himself utterly incapable of effectively rallying against the rapidly rising tide of antisemitism overtaking the American right. 

As an organization, the ADL, I have to reemphasize, has many people doing absolutely invaluable work on antisemitism. They have some incredible staff who are doing amazing things. I still do not see any other group in the American Jewish space capable of replacing what the ADL does for us.

But as the ADL's head, Greenblatt has proven, time and time again, that when it comes to Donald Trump and mainstream conservative antisemitism he cannot rise to the demands of the moment. Ultimately, despite all the evidence, despite all the history, despite all the hatred, Jonathan Greenblatt fundamentally trusts Donald Trump to be a friend of the Jews. So long as he cleaves to that nightmarish delusion, he will never oppose Trump's bigotry with the moral clarity and decisiveness the Jewish people need.