Cory Booker’s Last Chance to Reconnect with the Jewish Community

Cory Booker’s career, once defined by a promising rise as a bridge-builder among diverse communities, is at a critical juncture. Among his most critical supporters, the Jewish community once held the most central place, especially during his early political ascension when I took him around the country to meet America’s top Jewish donors. We also addressed crowds in synagogues and JCC’s of tens of thousands. Yet, his 2015 vote for the Iran nuclear deal, coupled with years of perceived disengagement from issues vital to Jewish constituents, has left deep fractures in this relationship, both with the Jewish community in general and me and Cory in particlular. In the wake of escalating antisemitism in America and globally, Booker now faces what could be his final opportunity to repair trust with the Jewish community before irreparable damage is done to his political and moral legacy.

Booker’s relationship with the Jewish community is not just professional; it is deeply personal. His close bond with me and the other students of the Oxford University L’Chaim Society, forged during our time at Oxford University in the 1990s, was a symbol of interfaith and intercultural solidarity. As president of the L’Chaim Society, Booker immersed himself in Jewish values, texts, and traditions through thousands of hours of Torah we studied together. For decades, we cultivated goodwill among Jewish leaders, leveraging these relationships to bolster his political campaigns, build his public image as a unifier, and raise tens of millions of dollars from Jewish donors for his campaigns.

However, the vote for the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA) in 2015 marked a turning point. Despite fervent pleas from Jewish and Christian allies, Booker supported the deal, which provided Iran with access to billions of dollars in frozen assets and legitimized its nuclear ambitions. For many in the Jewish community, particularly those committed to Israel’s security, the vote was seen as the ultimate betrayal. Iran’s support for Hamas and Hezbollah, terrorist organizations dedicated to Israel’s destruction, underscored the existential threat posed by the deal.  Worst of all, the October 7 massacre was ultimately funded, however indirectly, through the Iran nuclear deal.

The consequences of Booker’s decision were immediate and enduring. He lost the trust of key Jewish donors and constituents who had once been his staunchest allies. Beyond political ramifications, the decision created a personal rift between us. I had no choice but to publicly condemn Cory’s actions as dangerous and shortsighted.

The stakes for reconciling with the Jewish community have only grown since 2015. Antisemitism in the United States has surged, with violent incidents at record highs. The October 7, 2023, Hamas attack on Israel, which left over 1,400 people dead in a single day, has further underscored the threat posed by Iran-backed terrorism. These events have reignited scrutiny of the JCPOA and of leaders who supported it.

For Jewish Americans, particularly in Booker’s home state of New Jersey—home to nearly a million Jews—issues of safety and support for Israel are more urgent than ever. Communities are reeling from acts of violence, harassment, and rising hostility on college campuses. As I have earlier noted, the silence of political leaders like Booker amid these challenges is both deafening and dangerous.

Booker’s failure to address these concerns head-on has compounded the damage. Despite his history of advocating for marginalized communities, his tepid response to rising antisemitism has left many feeling abandoned. His absence during critical moments, such as the surge of pro-Palestinian rallies that turned violent against Jewish students at Princeton and Rutgers universities, has not gone unnoticed.

Equally troubling has been Booker’s reluctance to confront the broader implications of his 2015 vote. While he reportedly admitted privately that supporting the JCPOA was a mistake, such an acknowledgment means little without public accountability. Leadership requires the courage to admit errors, especially when those errors have had far-reaching consequences.

Booker’s literal retreat from Israel during the October 7 attacks, where he happened to be, further highlights his leadership challenges. While civilians in Israel had nowhere to run, Booker reportedly worked with the White House to secure a flight out of the country. This episode, emblematic of what critics see as political cowardice, contrasts starkly with the bravery expected of a leader who claims to champion justice and human rights.

If Booker hopes to rebuild trust with the Jewish community, he must take decisive steps. First, he should publicly acknowledge the harm caused by his 2015 vote, as well as the growing threat of Iranian-backed terrorism. Such an admission would not only demonstrate accountability but also reflect genuine remorse.

Second, Booker must actively combat antisemitism, both in his state and nationally. This includes standing with Jewish students facing harassment on campuses, advocating for enhanced security at synagogues and community centers, and using his platform to denounce hate in all its forms. Words alone will not suffice; action is essential.

Third, Booker must reevaluate his alliances. His associations with figures like Congresswoman Rashida Tlaib and Ilhan Omar, whose rhetoric has often veered into antisemitism, have further alienated Jewish constituents. By distancing himself from such individuals and reaffirming his commitment to Israel, Booker can begin to repair his image.

Booker’s re-election campaign in 2026 offers a critical opportunity to reconnect with the Jewish community. However, this window is rapidly closing. New Jersey’s Jewish voters, bolstered by an influx of Orthodox families fleeing antisemitism in New York, are increasingly disillusioned with Booker’s record. They demand a senator who will prioritize their safety and values, not one who takes their support for granted.

If Booker fails to act, he risks facing a serious primary challenge or even losing to a Republican opponent capable of galvanizing Jewish voters. New Jersey, as we witnessed in the last Gubernatorial election and the small margin by which Senator Lee triumphed in November, is increasingly trending red. For a politician once hailed as a unifier, such a fall would be both ironic and tragic.

Cory Booker’s journey from being a beloved ally of the Jewish community to a figure of mistrust is a cautionary tale of political miscalculation and personal estrangement. Yet, it is not too late for redemption. By acknowledging past mistakes, confronting antisemitism with moral clarity, and standing unequivocally with the Jewish community, Booker can begin to rebuild the bridges he once so proudly crossed.

This moment, more than any other, demands leadership. For Cory Booker, the choice is clear: he can continue down the path of silence and inaction, or he can rise to the occasion, proving that his commitment to justice and equality extends to those who once called him a brother. The Jewish community—and history itself—will judge him accordingly.

Finally, there is this personal story.

A few weeks ago a woman who has been nominated for a senior position in the Trump Administration called me to ask for my support. She, like many Ambassadors, Cabinet picks, and other senior leaders, requires Senate Confirmation. “I’d like to get Cory Booker to vote for me, I’d like to get a least one Democrat. And there’s an important issue where Cory and I are aligned. So we reached out to his people and they have an ask of their own. The gist of it: Get Shmuley Boteach to reconcile with Cory. Use your influence with Shmuley to create peace between these two men who were once as close as brothers.” The woman, whom I greatly respect, went on. “Now Shmuley. I would never ask you to do anything against your conscience. I’m not calling you about any horse-trading. I know that you and Cory fell out over his support for Iran. But maybe it’s time. America needs unity. Why don’t you come to a meeting with him.”

“Cory and I have met since the 2015 Iran deal and he was very gracious when I lost my mother in February, 2023 and of course he came to the shiva and sat with me for hours. Cory loved my mother and she loved him. And he and, I know, also still love each other. But our falling out was never personal and it was never bitter. Cory is always a gentleman. He’s not mean and he never practices gutter politics. So a meeting to recreate loving bonds that have never disappeared is not the point.”

“So what is the point,” she went on.

“The point is that Cory is not a private citizen. He is a United States Senator. He is my Senator. He is the senior Senator of the State with the Second largest Jewish community in America, with 800,000 Jews representing nearly 8% of the State’s total population. And he doesn’t represent our interests. He voted to fund Iran with $150 billion, which, as money is fungible, ultimately paid for October 7^th with Iranian funds for Hamas. Worse, he gave Iran a nuclear program while they brag that Israel is a one-bomb state and that with nuclear detonation they can accomplish in a nanosecond what it took Hitler twelve years to accomplish. He poses for constant selfies with his buddies Rashida Tlaib and Ilhan Omar. It’s a real turn off.”

She responded. “Yes, but I know he regrets it. I want to tell you something you’ve probably never heard before. And I’m telling you this with absolute authority that he said this. Cory told a fellow Senator that I’m friendly with, ‘The biggest mistake I ever made in my life was voting for the Iran deal. Had I not done so, today I’d be President of the United States.”

She was right. I had never heard that before. But I had warned of that exact outcome through 2014 and 2015 when I begged and pleaded with him not to harm Israel and himself by voting to fund genocidal terrorists.

She continued. “So he does regret it. And it’s time for you guys to make peace. And I’ll tell you more,” she continued. “Cory’s people told me that every month something like 10,000 new orthodox Jews are moving into New Jersey, to places like Lakewood, from Boro Park, Williamsburg, and Flatbush. There’s too much antisemitism on the streets of New York and Brooklyn. They’re moving to Jersey. And Cory can’t even get invited to any of their Yeshivas because you immediately criticize any Shul, or JCC, or Yeshiva that raises money for him. Everyone saw what you even did to the ADL when they had him speak in the summer. You called a public protest right at the event!”

“Look,” I said. “I loved Cory so much, and we were so close, that I actually changed the date of my first child’s wedding for him to attend. He called me and said, ‘Shmuley, I don’t have kids. Your kids are my kids. I’ve been holding Mushki on my lap since she was a baby. I can’t miss her wedding.’  We inconvenienced everyone for Cory. And it was worth it. He was the first to arrive at the wedding and the last to leave. We danced up a storm. So now, imagine, that ten years later, now three of my kids are lone soldiers in the IDF in Israel and Cory votes to fund the government that promises every day to have their proxies Hamas and Hezbollah murder them, God forbid. And even that I would forgive. If only he would simply go to the well of the Senate, repudiate his vote, condemn Iran for funding Hamas and Hezbollah in the murder and decapitation of 1200 babies, women, and men. But he won’t do it.”

OK, she said. “I’ll go back to him and make that the condition of the meeting.”

So here we are. Cory is up for reelection for Senate in 2026. The campaign starts now.

Will he finally repudiate his vote for fund Iran and commit to stopping their nuclear program? Or will the Jewish community loom for someone to primary him now?

The clock is ticking.