When the Home Team Changes: The Courage to Admit We Were Wrong
My first career was as an attorney. In law school, I learned that the opening statement is the most critical part of a trial. Once people choose a side, they become fiercely resistant to change; altering an opinion requires admitting a mistake. Today, this exact psychological dynamic plays out in politics.
Speaking as an American Jew, I know that for decades, many Jews—myself included—prided themselves on their liberal views. We stood staunchly behind the Democratic Party and championed the moral necessity of lifting up the less fortunate. I lived those values. I volunteered for battered women’s shelters, spent a law school semester working for the National Wildlife Federation, and dedicated a summer to the Public Defender’s Office. Even after joining a private law firm, I spent much of my time on pro bono work before eventually becoming a union attorney. When I later left the legal profession to become a teacher, it was driven by that same civic passion: where better to shape the minds of the future generation than in a classroom?
Because of this background, I was utterly dumbfounded after the October 7 massacre by the silence of the people we had previously marched alongside. Worse yet, we watched them march to slogans like “From the river to the sea” and “Globalize the intifada.” On October 9, while terrorists who burned babies were still being hunted in Israel, Boston held a solidarity vigil. There, Senator Ed Markey stood up and appealed for “de-escalation.” For me, that moment marked the downward spiral of the Democratic coalition. One cannot watch parts of the Democratic platform continue to demonize Israel and blame Benjamin Netanyahu for the world’s wrongs without realizing that ancient Jew-hatred is returning. [
Yet, I am astonished to see how many liberal Jews remain blind to this, having tied their entire moral identity to the Democratic Party. To be clear, this is not a validation of the political right. For years, we have rightly feared the rise of the alt-right, white nationalism, and dangerous conspiracy theories that fester on that side of the aisle. The threat from the far-right remains deeply real, potent, and terrifying.
But what we are witnessing today is a textbook demonstration of the horseshoe theory—the political reality that the extreme left and extreme right curve inward until they meet at the exact same point of radicalism. When it comes to the Jewish people, the horseshoe has fully bent. The alt-right vilifies us from one side, while the progressive left delegitimizes us from the other. Both extremes have found common ground in the world’s oldest hatred.
This is no longer a conversation about political parties; it is about stripped-down, survival-level reality. I used to wonder why so many German Jews failed to flee when the writing was on the wall. The answer is clear now: people simply could not imagine that things would get worse, believing the political climate would eventually turn around. But today, history shows us the truth—not just the history of Nazi Germany, but of every single generation, from Passover and the Spanish Inquisition to the ethnic cleansing of Jews across the Middle East.
Whether you like Netanyahu or his government is entirely irrelevant. Blaming a single administration for the astronomical rise of global antisemitism is falling into the trap of complacency. It is the trap of being unable to pivot and realize that your “home team” is no longer who you thought they were.
I still consider myself a liberal. I believe firmly in the rights of all people. But today, as a member of a true minority—with only 15 million Jews in the entire world—I must focus my energy on protecting my family and my people. The realization that over half of congressional Democrats have voted against measures supporting Israel pales in comparison to the broader demonization and delegitimization happening against global Jewry. This is where our long-chosen political side collides with present reality, forcing a choice between comfortable allegiance and uncomfortable truth.
We must stop viewing our safety through a partisan lens. Neither party is going to save us, and clinging blindly to an old political identity out of habit is a luxury we can no longer afford. It brings me back to the lessons I taught my sixth-graders when I left the law for the classroom. It takes immense courage to change your mind when faced with new information. Being stubborn is easy. Protecting an old identity, even when it no longer protects you, is a human instinct. But admitting your position might have been wrong is the real challenge. I appeal to my fellow Jews to summon that courage, open your eyes, and look at the bigger picture. If we do not change our course now, by the time the mistake is realized, it will be too late.
