Rabbi Sacks and the NYC Mayorial Ballot Box
He warned Britain about Jeremy Corbyn with moral precision. His test for moral clarity still applies—now in New York City, too.
You can feel it in most Jewish space in New York: anxiety. Zohran Mamdani’s mayoral campaign has unsettled many. Some are fearful, some confused. Many are deeply troubled—not just by his rhetoric and alliances, but by his ideas and the promises he has made. A small but vocal minority sees him differently, as a “progressive” champion and a voice for justice.
Division among Jews is nothing new. But this one feels sharper. The stakes demand a hard question: who’s seeing this most clearly? How serious a threat is Mamdani—and how should Jewish identity weigh against other civic priorities, especially when few compelling alternatives exist?
My view—that Mamdani is a major threat—came so naturally that I wondered if I was missing nuance. Was I overreacting? Worrying over sphilkes? I went looking for a voice I trusted on “things Jewish” to challenge me. I turned to the late Chief Rabbi of the UK, Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, specifically his writings and sermons.
Of course, it would be preposterous to speak for Rabbi Sacks. But in the tradition of the best teachers, he inspires me to think with him, and through his ideas, when confronting a new problem. I am not speaking for him; I am simply trying to think like him.
Rabbi Sacks’s Moral Compass
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks combined empathy with steel. He believed in pluralism but also in boundaries. He didn’t just offer answers; he offered frameworks—including ways to tell when one’s discomfort becomes moral obligation.
I believe I know what he’d say about Mamdani because he already said it about Jeremy Corbyn.
When Corbyn’s Labour Party rose in Britain, Sacks didn’t equivocate. In 2018, he called Corbyn “a dangerous antisemite” who had “given support to racists, terrorists, and dealers of hate.”
The trigger was a 2013 remark in which Corbyn suggested British “Zionists” didn’t understand “English irony.” Sacks called it “the most offensive statement made by a senior British politician since Enoch Powell’s ‘Rivers of Blood’ speech.” Powell had cast immigrants as outsiders; Sacks saw Corbyn doing the same to Jews.
But it wasn’t just one remark. Corbyn had called Hamas and Hezbollah his “friends,” compared Israel to ISIS, and repeatedly dodged accountability. Sacks called it “low, dishonest, and dangerous” and warned that Corbyn had “legitimized the public expression of hate—and where he leads, others will follow.”
For the first time since Jews were readmitted to Britain in 1656, families asked: Is this country still safe for us? Sacks’s verdict: until Corbyn showed genuine remorse, “he is as great a danger as Enoch Powell was.”
The Mamdani Test
Mamdani has aligned himself with movements that make Jews feel unsafe. He has appeared at rallies where antisemitic rhetoric was present. He denies Israel’s legitimacy as a Jewish state. His coalition includes individuals and groups that glorify violence against Israelis. He has pledged to arrest the leader of one country–Israel. His party, the Democratic Socialists of America (DSA) supports the October 7, 2023 Hamas attack, uses classic antisemitic tropes, and repeatedly calls for the elimination of the state of Israel.
This is not a matter of policy differences over housing, climate, or economic justice. This is about whether a candidate’s rhetoric and associations cross a line from legitimate criticism into something that makes a community ask: Will we be safe?
Some Jewish progressives argue that Mamdani’s social policies outweigh these concerns. In a field of few compelling alternatives, that instinct is understandable. But Sacks would ask: at what cost? Supporting someone whose words and alliances make part of your community feel endangered is not just a compromise—it is a moral hazard.
Moral clarity demands refusing to compartmentalize: antisemitism cannot be treated as negotiable.
Applying Sacks’s Lens
Sacks’s framework was clear: words and actions matter more than intentions. Silence in the face of antisemitism is never neutral—it is permission. Leaders who associate with hate groups or deny the legitimacy of Israel as a Jewish state are crossing moral lines. Good policy elsewhere cannot erase that. Communities asking if they are safe are sounding an alarm.
Applied to Mamdani: Does his rhetoric echo historical antisemitism? Yes. Does he align with groups that celebrate violence and deny Israel’s right to exist as a Jewish state? Yes. When confronted, does he show genuine remorse—or deny, equivocate, and obfuscate? No.
Sacks’s principles are unambiguous: some lines, once crossed, cannot be uncrossed.
The Stakes
The question isn’t whether Mamdani is Corbyn. It’s whether we’re willing to draw the line before we find out.
Sacks believed in dialogue, compassion, and redemption—but also in limits. He would ask us to think honestly, even when it’s uncomfortable. Some lines, once crossed, cannot be traded away—not for housing policy, not for climate action, not for any other good a politician might promise.
Moral clarity means refusing to compartmentalize and accept rhetoric that endangers us in exchange for policies we favor.
When criticism slides into antisemitism, when associations with hate-mongers are explained away, when a community’s safety concerns are dismissed as political theater—that’s when Sacks’s approach demands we say no. Not because it’s easy, not because we agree with other candidate, but because some lines, once crossed, cannot be uncrossed.
Applied to Corbyn, Sacks’s answer was unequivocal: dangerous, unacceptable, disqualifying. Applied honestly to Mamdani, the answer would be the same.
The only question is: Will enough New Yorkers have the courage to apply it?
