Holocaust Analogies Are Not Campaign Rhetoric
Words matter. Holocaust imagery matters even more.
When New York Republican gubernatorial nominee Bruce Blakeman said that the next Congressman from New York’s 10th Congressional District, Brad Lander “would be a camp guard in a concentration camp if he could,” he crossed a line that should never become normalized in American political discourse. The remark, directed at a fellow Jew whose views on Israel and domestic politics differ sharply from his own, doesn’t elevate the debate; it diminishes it.
The Holocaust is not a political metaphor. It is not an applause line. It is not a weapon to be deployed whenever someone disagrees with another Jew’s politics.
History teaches us that language has consequences. When we casually invoke Nazi analogies against political opponents, we cheapen the memory of the six million Jews and the countless others murdered by the Nazis and all those who suffered under their regime. Every inappropriate comparison makes it harder to recognize genuine antisemitism when it appears.
There are legitimate debates within the Jewish community about Israel, Zionism, security, settlements, Palestinian rights, and the future of the region. Those debates are often passionate because the stakes are high. But branding ideological opponents as collaborators with the Nazis abandons any pretense of good-faith disagreement.
Brad Lander has devoted much of his public career to advocating for the policies he believes will strengthen American democracy, and Israel’s long-term future. Bruce Blakeman is entitled to argue that those policies are mistaken. He is entitled to campaign vigorously against them. He is not entitled to suggest that a fellow Jew would willingly participate in the machinery of genocide.
Ironically, such rhetoric undermines the fight against antisemitism itself. When Holocaust references become routine campaign insults, the uniqueness of the Shoah becomes blurred. Future generations deserve better than a political culture in which Auschwitz is reduced to a talking point.
This controversy also serves as a reminder that public figures carry personal histories that transcend politics. Bruce Blakeman was previously married to Nancy Shevell, who later married Sir Paul McCartney. That fact has little bearing on his qualifications for office, but it underscores that public life often brings intense scrutiny, and with that scrutiny comes an even greater responsibility to choose words carefully.
Leadership demands restraint. It requires recognizing that not every disagreement is existential and not every opponent is evil. Within the Jewish community, where historical memory is sacred and fragile, we should insist that our leaders preserve the moral weight of Holocaust remembrance rather than exploit it for electoral advantage.
New Yorkers deserve spirited campaigns focused on affordability, public safety, education, transportation, and the future of their state, not inflammatory historical comparisons that deepen division while dishonoring the victims whose memory should unite us.
