Mamdani is good for Judaism
October 7 was the earthquake. And in many ways, October 8 was a different type of tremor. We opened our phones and saw people we trusted explaining, excusing, even cheering Jewish death. Stark fault lines were revealed.
And now New York has a mayor whom many fear will turn that mood into policy. A man who supports BDS, and calls Israel “genocidal” and “apartheid.” If you’re a Jew in this city, that lands like a punch in the gut.
But maybe, just maybe…if you think like a Chabadnik instead of a Twitter pundit, you might see something else: a Divine gift.
There’s an old story about Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, the first Chabad Rebbe. In 1812, as Napoleon marched toward Russia, most Jews knew who to root for. The czar meant exile and fear; Napoleon meant emancipation and opportunity.
And yet the Rebbe prayed for the czar’s success
He wasn’t romanticizing ruthless leaders. He was afraid of what sudden comfort would do to Jewish souls. Under Napoleon, while Jews would gain rights, they would slowly lose their spiritual distinctiveness. Under the czar, they would remain what the Torah calls: “A nation that dwells alone.”
A risk? Yes. But well worth it..
Hold that in your head as you look at Zohran Mamdani.
On paper, people are saying that it is bad news for Jews. It will embolden the worst activists and make our institutions less safe. But if you zoom out 4000 years and recognize how our history has played out, you can see that it will ultimately be good for Judaism. Because it pulls us back into that Biblical truth we keep trying to outrun.
October 8 exposed how many classmates, colleagues, and neighbors could watch Jewish slaughter and reply with “resistance” and “context.” Students chanting “globalize the intifada.” Activists relativizing the burning of families alive.
We realized that assimilation hadn’t made us safe; it just dulled our grip on reality. It never rewired the world. It never made them like us more. But it also never rewired our soul. The Jewish people are not built to blend in. “A nation that dwells alone” is not a slogan; it is a diagnosis.
And yet, soon thereafter, American Jewish life tried to snap back to normal: Whether it was getting politicians to our dinners, proclamations on our holidays, or investing in building friendships and alliances at the expense of us strengthening our own internal Jewishness. Most of the time it was with the soothing fantasy that our future depends on having the right friendships and using just the right terminology.
Fast forward two long years and we are given a gift. A reminder that we will always remain separate. Not because we hide from the world, but because our deepest commitments answer to something higher than the world. We are not merely a cultural subset. We are a light of moral and G-dly clarity to the nations.
We have to live from our deepest Jewish identity. From this deepest truth that is a call to action. To be a proud Jew who will influence the world just as a lighthouse stands tall, bright, and alone. Not from the fantasy that, this time, if we just play it right, we’ll finally be allowed to stop being so lonely.
No one is asking us to pray for Mamdani’s success the way the Rebbe prayed for the czar. We should fight every policy that makes Jews less safe. But we should also be honest: the hope that we can finally relax into sameness, was giving Judaism a slow fade.
And the real test will come when the next mayor enters office. Since the point is not to become spiritually dependent on having an enemy at City Hall. The challenge is to grow an inner Mamdani. A voice that refuses to let us doze off even when the politicians are friendly and the grants are flowing.
We didn’t choose this test. But we can choose to respond like a 4,000-year-old nation with different wiring. If his victory forces us to think and build, externally and internally, like a people with a mission. That will, in the deepest sense, turn out to be good for Judaism.
Not because of what he believes, but because of what it might finally make us remember about who we are.
