Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro may have lost the veepstakes, but he scored a genuine and welcome achievement, gaining national respect as a man of integrity and principle. In the current moment, for Jewish Americans, both Democrats and Republicans, that’s a big deal.
Did Vice President Kamala Harris consider the governor’s Jewishness too much of a political liability? Was her decision not to choose him as her running mate in the upcoming US presidential election based on benign electoral calculations, a reaction to the antisemitic campaign against him, or a projection that a Jewish supporter of Israel would not likely be the one to bring her back the “uncommitted?”
Despite our obsessive preoccupation with the politics of antisemitism, we will likely never know why Gov. Shapiro did not get the nod, but we can be clear on why he got so close. The strength of his candidacy derived from the strength of his character.
Last month, I had the privilege of attending the national memorial service for Sen. Joe Lieberman, the first Jewish candidate for vice president. It was one of the most inspiring experiences I have had in months.
Each of the diverse array of speakers highlighted three core themes: Joe Lieberman was a principled public servant, a warm and caring human being, and an engaged and proud Jew.
The tributes perfectly reflected the Talmud’s portrayal of the Jew who is associated with learning and living the Torah and its values, whose interactions with all people are characterized by integrity and pleasantness.
When faith is reflected in exquisite character and teaches the Talmud (Yoma 86a), this generates love and admiration for God and Torah, among others, and leads God to take pride in that person, saying, “You are My servant, Israel, in whom I will be glorified” (Isaiah 49:3).
At the first Harris-Walz rally, Josh Shapiro spoke of his pride in his Jewish faith to the roaring approval of an enthusiastic crowd, demonstrating how he has garnered widespread admiration for the faith. That is a triumph we must deeply appreciate, especially now.
October 7 and its aftermath have been excruciating for the Jewish people, bringing widespread death, captivity, injury, trauma, displacement, and fear to Israel, and unleashing a rising wave of antisemitism throughout the world. In addition to the pain and the loneliness lurks a different sense of profound loss. Jews and Judaism have been vilified.
Our mission is to be a light unto the nations.
Judaism is the original Abrahamic faith, bringing the book of books to the world, teaching faith and kindness, justice and values. For the United States, the Judeo-Christian ethic served as the basis of its morality; and its bond with the State of Israel since its founding was based on shared values. But October 7 set all that back.
Since then, the narrative feeding the spike in antisemitism has turned the accusation of genocide against the Jews, the ones who are defending themselves, being ethnically cleansed.
That the Jews are carrying out a “genocide” is the tale told in the lecture halls of the Ivies, shared on the reels of TikTok, and screamed by the pro-Hamas protesters during their public celebrations of murderers and rapists.
That is the alternative reality informing the United Nations and various international kangaroo courts, and promoted by much of the mainstream media.
We can blame those who demonize us and be infuriated by the glorifiers of whomever they choose to see as the “oppressed,” but we are still left saddened by our inability to effectively fulfill our core mission of modeling values for the world.
How do we fix this? How do we reclaim the narrative and demonstrate the justice and the exceptional humanity of the Jewish people? We do well to heed Hazon Yeshayahu, the prophetic vision of Isaiah, who guided our nation in crisis to focus on how each of us as individuals can uplift God in our everyday lives: “Learn to do good. Seek justice. Correct what is cruel. Defend the orphan. Fight for the widow.”
Shapiro may have lost the nomination because of the antisemitic fringe, but his proudly Jewish appearance on the national stage, like Lieberman’s, won the day, reminding America’s mainstream that Judaism is a source of light and that it is a faith reflected in the integrity and caring of its dedicated adherents.
The writer, a rabbi, is executive vice president of the Orthodox Union.