New York City feels tense again for some Jews

Tovah Feldshuh was recently riding the subway heading downtown when she encountered something she had never seen in her 74 years of living in and around New York City: a public display of anti-Semitism.

“Those exterminating Jews,” she said, a passenger started ranting.

Mrs. Feldshuh, the film and Broadway actress who just completed a year in the role of Mrs. Brice on “Funny Girl,” was stunned by the man on the A train who, she said, looked like a typical commuter. “Hate speech is the way you ax society, the way you destroy it.”

There is no city in the world where more Jews live than New York, and no city in this country as defined by Jewish sensibility and culture. Jews have helped shape New York’s New York character since they began emigrating from Europe in large numbers in the 19th century. But since October 7, the start of the war between Israel and Hamas, many Jewish New Yorkers have felt something completely unfamiliar: a sense that they are not home, or perhaps even unwelcome.

Many Jews say they have felt an uneasy change in the city, a perception that their identity as New Yorkers is seen as secondary to their Judaism.

“Like every other New York Jew, I’m really concerned about the rise of anti-Semitism in this place, which has always been considered a haven for Jews,” Senator Chuck Schumer said in an interview.

Some wear their Jewish identity more publicly, an act of pride and defiance. Some fear becoming the target of harassment. Even as more Jews wear Star of David jewelry and plaster the Israeli flag on their social media profiles, some are also taking precautions, including changing their names to less Jewish-sounding ones on apps like Uber and Lyft.

Many say they feel even more alienated by the divisions within the Jewish community between those who fervently support the Israeli government’s handling of the war and those who are outraged by it. Equally divisive is the schism between Jews who fear a rise in anti-Jewish prejudice and those who worry that such concerns undermine freedom of expression.

The situation has led to an uncomfortable season for much of Jewish New York. “As many people are no doubt thinking, the last eight weeks have been a real rollercoaster of emotions,” said Hannah Bronfman, a digital media creator living in Greenwich Village.

The human toll in the Middle East is enormous. More than 1,200 Israelis were killed in the Hamas attack, while another 240 were taken hostage, according to Israel’s Foreign Ministry. According to Gaza officials, Israeli retaliation has killed nearly 20,000 Palestinians.

Nearly six thousand miles away, New York City has become a center of daily protest, as activists pushing for a ceasefire have filled the Grand Central Terminal, the Manhattan Bridge, college campuses and Times Square.

Many anti-Israel demonstrations have been peaceful – and attended by Jews eager to separate their Jewish identity from Israel. “I, as a Jew, feel personally shocked by what is being done right now by the government of Israel,” he said Nina Dibner, 56, who attended a ceasefire meeting on the first night of Hanukkah. “I want to say very clearly that what was done was not done in my name.”

But increasing public displays of hostility toward Israel have roiled the country’s supporters.

“The language used in the protests and the speed at which the protests appear to be moving from protests to physical intimidation is alarming,” said Dan Senor, co-author of the recent book “The Genius of Israel.”

“It goes way beyond criticism of Israeli policies,” said Mr. Senor, 52, adding: “It is so clearly about being Jewish. That is a reality of Jewish life in New York City today.”

Prejudice is not a new phenomenon for Jews or Muslims in New York, but advocacy groups for both communities have reported a spike in Islamophobia and anti-Semitism since the war began. The police have investigated an increase in the number of reported hate crimessome of which targeted Muslims, and many of which targeted Jews.

It has led some New Yorkers to exercise greater caution in public. When Edward Telzak, 68, recently tried to find the Museum of Jewish Heritage, he considered — and decided against — asking a stranger for directions.

“If you don’t feel comfortable here, where can you feel comfortable?” he said.

Ms. Feldshuh says she felt compelled to show her Jewish pride.

But she is also careful. She wears a “Bring Them Home Now” necklace, often over a sweater, in honor of the hostages. She has started wearing a Star of David pin, but always under a coat.

‘New York is everyone’s city.’

At a Hanukkah party hosted by Mayor Eric Adams at Gracie Mansion last week, Jewish New Yorkers mingled with city officials and about 40 Israeli relatives of hostages still held captive in Gaza.

Attendees spoke about the topics that dominate Jewish conversations today: Israel, the war, protests and anti-Semitism.

Bryan McNamara, 26, said he recently boarded the subway wearing an Israeli flag pin. At one point, “a white woman in her 30s in a nice coat” came up to him and whispered “Jew,” along with a nickname in his ear, he said.

Alon Nimrodi, whose son, Tamir, 19, among those abducted, said he was stopped in traffic near the United Nations when protesters surrounded his car and shouted through the closed windows: “From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.” The slogan is seen by some as a call for Palestinian liberation, but others see it as an incitement to violence.

“My blood was boiling,” Mr Nimrodi said.

That everyone would feel uncomfortable Michael Rapaport, the actor and podcast host who has become an influential presence on Instagram, criticizing protesters and those caught on video engaging in anti-Semitic behavior. “That’s not New York,” he said.

“New York is everyone’s city. It is a Jewish city. It’s a black city. It’s a Puerto Rican city. It’s a Chinese city. It belongs to everyone.”

But some lifelong Jewish New Yorkers say it feels less so.

Since the beginning of October Mrs. Bronfman, the investor and digital media creator, has felt a new tension, looking at people on the sidewalk and wondering if they tore posters of kidnapped Israeli babies. Recently, someone confronted her on the subway “asking how I should speak out more about the people of Gaza.”

An additional cause of stress for Ms. Bronfman, she said, is the expectation she has from social media that as a black woman she should not be an ally of Israel. (Ms. Bronfman notes that her support for Israel does not extend to Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.)

“As a Jew of color,” she said, she disagrees making connections between the experiences of black people in America and the Palestinians. “Those two things,” she said, “couldn’t be further apart.”

A ceasefire meeting

Powerful emotions also drive Jews who have a critical view of Israel.

On the first night of Hanukkah, hundreds of protesters gathered at Columbus Circle, including Ms. Dibner and her friend Lee Scherealso 56. “I feel very affirmed by so many people coming to protest the violence of the war,” she said.

Ms. Dibner and Mr. Schere are not convinced there is a rise in anti-Semitism, but rather a “collective fear of anti-Semitism” fueled by the right, she said. They fear it will be used to “suppress pro-Palestinian voices.”

Sara Erenthal, a Brooklyn artist born in Israel said she regretted the spike in Islamophobia and anti-Semitism, which she said was fueled in part by the attacks on Gaza. “I really personally think that Israel is to blame – a lot of it, not all of it,” she said.

Her view is not shared by those raised to revere Israel as a small but mighty defender of a Jewish homeland surrounded by large, often antagonistic Arab countries.

“Israel,” Mrs. Feldshuh said wistfully, “this brave little sovereign country.”

A new Jewish New York moment

a “A huge diversity of opinions can be expected in New York,” says Jake Cohen, 29, “because we are in the thought and culture center of the world.”

Mr. Cohen, the author of a Jewish cookbook titled “I Could Nosh” was braiding challah dough in a friend’s kitchen one morning in preparation for a Shabbat dinner they were hosting for about 200 gay Jews. He was wearing a shirt that said “Mama’s Little Matzo Ball.” He has long dressed in an outwardly Jewish style, although his mother has recently become concerned about this. Not him.

“I’m 6-4, in shape and ready to fight Maccabee style,” he said.

He was joined in the kitchen by Alex Edelman, the comedian and star of the one-man show “Just for Us,” in which he talks about his presence at a gathering of white nationalists. He and Mr. Cohen discussed the diversity of the city’s Jewish population.

“There’s a Jewish moment happening in New York,” said Mr. Edelman, 34, “because it’s one of the few spaces where there are people with so many different opinions.”

“You know what they say about Jews,” Mr. Cohen interjected. “Three Jews, seven opinions.”

“They don’t say that,” Mr. Edelman said. “That’s not the math.”

Being able to lead an outwardly Jewish life was an added advantage for Lola Mozes when she moved to New York more than seventy years ago. The main thing was a desire for security. As she looked toward the city from Ellis Island, she said, she felt illuminated by hope. “The lights of New York,” she said, searching for words, “they don’t exist anywhere in the world. It’s majestic.”

Mrs. Mozes was about 21 years old at the time, newly married and pregnant. It was a new start after an almost unspeakable trauma during the Holocaust. Her parents and brother were murdered by the Nazis. She survived five concentration and extermination camps before reaching New York.

She and her husband settled in Brooklyn, but since October 7 she has felt less comfortable in New York.

“Now that anti-Semitism is spreading, I feel the anger and discomfort that I felt as a child in Poland,” she said. She struggles with the same question that haunted her as a child: “Why would you hate me?” I am no different than you.”

Amelia Nierenberg reporting contributed.