What If Jewish Americans Just Showed Up?

I grew up in Philadelphia, a place that shaped so much of how I think about America and what it means to be free. As a teen, I would regularly explore the alleys and squares of the Old City, and walking past Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell made it impossible to not appreciate the revolutionary ideas that took shape there. The freedoms enshrined in our founding documents were not simply lessons in history books for many Philadelphians or for me; they became part of who we are, and last Sunday, I was especially proud of my hometown and how it behaved during a moment of real hate.

An anti-Israel cycling group, Philly Bike On Your Left, had organized a ride targeting six Jewish-owned restaurants in Center City. The group named Goldie, Dizengoff, K’Far Cafe, Huda, Schlesinger’s Deli and Mac Mart as targets and declared, “No business for Zionists!” and “These Zionist establishments must go!”

The ride was scheduled for Nov. 8, the eve of the anniversary of Kristallnacht—the 1938 pogrom across Germany, Austria, and the Sudetenland in which Jewish homes, businesses and synagogues were attacked. Organizers said the timing was coincidental, but the historical timing was hard to miss and an alternative day wasn’t proposed.

The story of Mac Mart is especially revealing. Its owner, Marti Lieberman, told Philadelphia Magazine that she has never mixed politics with her business, a small shop selling macaroni and cheese. She wears a Star of David and wondered whether that had something to do with her inclusion. Mac Mart is normally closed on Sundays, but Lieberman opened because so many people wanted to come and support her. Think about that and what it says to the Jewish community and the world: A woman whose business is feeding people macaroni and cheese was told that her establishment has no place in Philadelphia; her strong response was to open the doors.

And people came. They didn’t just post online; they showed up in person, on foot. Hundreds lined up outside the targeted restaurants, in some cases down the block. I happened to be in my hometown for an unrelated meeting and proudly visited Schlesinger’s Deli and ordered takeout for the train ride back to New York. I was thrilled by the line to grab a sandwich and the Philadelphia Inquirer reported enormous crowds outside Huda too.

The New York Post wrote that the cyclists eventually ended their ride early due to the safety concerns with the large crowds. And there were tense encounters and arrests, which should not be celebrated. But the events of Nov. 8 showed that a campaign intended to isolate Jewish businesses brought customers and neighbors out to support them. They did not allow a small group of radicals to seize the day. People didn’t isolate in fear and call for action; they engaged in action and said enough is enough.

It is remarkably fitting for this powerful response to have happened in Philadelphia. The cyclists had every right to express their views and call for a boycott. But Philadelphians had just as much right to answer, peacefully and publicly. A right to protest does not mean a right to be free from criticism. The freedoms established in Philadelphia require citizens willing to exercise them, and on Sunday they did.

The freedoms established in Philadelphia require citizens willing to exercise them, and on Sunday they did.

Since Oct. 7, I have become increasingly frustrated by how Jewish organizations and the Jewish community have responded to antisemitism and hate on the streets, on campuses, and online. Many have done what we’ve collectively done as a Jewish community for years: We write letters to presidents and trustees, contact elected officials, file complaints and ask our communal organizations to intervene. I have called for that kind of accountability and the Jewish community should be grateful for the various gains made such as the wonderful work of Ken Marcus at the Brandeis Center and Mark Goldfeder at the National Jewish Advocacy Center.

But this work is slow, limited in reach and scope, and has not directly confronted the hate that continues to grow on college campuses and in our cities. I actually wonder whether the people doing the intimidating have come to expect exactly that quiet response from us: another letter and another statement of concern but limited action and few, if any, consequences. So many have not had to face any accountability for hateful, disgraceful and un-American behavior, but that changes if there are scores of people counter-demonstrating and challenging them in real time as we saw in Philadelphia.

I think about this at Sarah Lawrence College, where I have taught for nearly two decades. On the third anniversary of Oct. 7, Students for Justice in Palestine advertised a vigil invoking “martyrs” and “resistance” on the day Jews were remembering the Hamas massacre. I also kept thinking about what was missing. Imagine if a couple of hundred or even a few dozen Jewish alumni, students and neighbors had gathered peacefully for their own vigil, in remembrance of those murdered and kidnapped on Oct. 7. Imagine how different the evening might have felt for Jewish students who believed they were alone.

Or think about Columbia in the spring of 2024. Jewish students faced harassment inside and around campus, including people telling them to “go back to Poland”; one protest leader declared that Zionists did not deserve to live and this is well documented by Columbia’s own antisemitism task force.

Now to be clear, Jewish students and their allies did organize demonstrations and they showed real courage in the face of a well-organized, well-supported, and vicious group of protesters. But imagine if hundreds of other New Yorkers and alumni had regularly stood near those gates, peacefully, in support of Israel and the Jewish students. The goal of a larger counter-demonstration would not be to prevent anyone from protesting or disrupt others. But it would have made an immediate statement that the Jewish community is strong, is not running from hate-filled extremists, and it would have made it impossible for Jewish students to mistake the loudest voices for the views of everyone around them.

Why have we so often left students to do this themselves and feel isolated and unsupported?

Jewish Americans are institution builders. Collectively, we have created schools, synagogues, hospitals, federations, charities and advocacy groups that have helped sustain Jewish life for generations. But I wonder whether we as Jews have become too comfortable letting them act for us. Political science has a term for this: “diminished democracy,” where direct participatory engagement has been essentially contracted out to formal organizations. We should not mistake the fact that we donate, join boards, and attend fundraising dinners for direct action. This is a form of engagement, but sometimes turning out in person is critical and far too often, when something ugly happens, we look to an organization or an elected official to respond and we may have forgotten that sometimes we need to show up.

I recently wrote in these pages about the need to give Jewish college students actual people nearby whom they can call when they need help. A national organization may pursue a lawsuit, but these large organizations cannot answer every call from frightened 19-year-olds in dorm rooms who are being threatened and told that they’d be better off dead.

What if threatened Jewish community members and institutions could count on real, on the ground responses and support from the community? If a restaurant is targeted, people would come to eat there and if students are harassed, alumni and neighbors would gather to support them. If a synagogue faces intimidation, its members would find other members of the community alongside them. Showing up against threats and aggression does not require threats or interfering with anyone’s right to protest. It requires people willing to give up a few hours and be present.

To their credit, elected officials, police and Jewish organizations in Philadelphia played important roles on Sunday. The mayor of Philadelphia and many others said all the right things and reiterated American values and ideals. Many of those who came to the restaurants were not Jewish, either, and that is precisely the kind of community response the Jewish community should not only welcome, but also meaningfully cultivate.

One afternoon in Philadelphia did not end antisemitism in the City of Brotherly Love. The Jewish community’s response and turnout showed that people trying to make Jewish businesses feel unwelcome do not have the last word.

The next time a Jewish business is threatened or a Jewish student feels abandoned, I want them to know that the people around them will do more than express concern.

The next time a Jewish business is threatened or a Jewish student feels abandoned, I want them to know that the people around them will do more than express concern. I want them to look outside and see that we showed up and that no Jew who feels threatened or attacked is ever alone. We mourn on Oct. 7.  Nov. 8 gave us something to celebrate: a community that showed up, on its feet, public and proud. Now we need to make that response a habit.