July 21, 2026|ז' אב ה' אלפים תשפ"ו You Cannot Arrest an Idea: What Mamdani Doesn't Understand By Rabbi Efrem Goldberg

Zohran Mamdani recently escalated his anti-Israel rhetoric by declaring that he is exploring how to have Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu arrested when he visits New York this fall, citing the International Criminal Court's arrest warrant. The threat is as reckless as it is revealing. Neither the United States nor Israel recognizes the ICC's jurisdiction over Israeli officials, and leaders across the American political spectrum have condemned the court's actions as politically motivated and fundamentally biased against Israel. The warrant itself was sought by then-ICC Prosecutor Karim Khan, who later stepped aside while facing serious allegations of misconduct—a fitting reminder of the corruption and moral bankruptcy that have plagued this institution.

President Trump responded on Truth Social: "Benjamin Netanyahu will not be arrested, in any way, shape, or form, while in the United States of America. He is fighting against the Islamic Republic of Iran, which recently killed 52,000 innocent protestors, and has spent the last 47 years killing American Soldiers, and others. The only ones that should be arrested are the people that led Iran into this unprecedented SPIRAL OF DEATH AND DESTRUCTION, something that should have been dealt with years ago, by previous Presidents!"

State Assemblyman Simcha Eichenstein (D-Brooklyn) also wrote to New York Attorney General Letitia James requesting an investigation into possible misconduct by Mamdani, noting that New York law "directly prohibits the mayor from ordering local law enforcement to arrest a specific individual." As Eichenstein explained, "Under New York penal law, a public servant who knowingly performs an unauthorized act, and misuses their position to pressure law enforcement into making an arrest, may be guilty of official misconduct, a Class A misdemeanor."

While appalling, Mamdani's latest comments are hardly surprising. They are entirely consistent with a worldview that refuses to acknowledge the legitimacy of the Jewish state itself.

In recently resurfaced remarks from a 2023 interview, Mamdani declared, "For so many people, Israel is not a place. It is not a country. It's an idea." He continued by dismissing those who support Israel, saying, "You see that in many politicians' answers to the questions around Israel. Their answers were written 20, 30 years ago. They speak to a reality that does not exist." These were not offhand remarks. They reveal an ideology that diminishes Israel as the historic homeland of the Jewish people and as a sovereign nation among the family of nations.

But perhaps, on one point, Mamdani is actually onto something, though I would phrase it very differently. Israel is not only a place. It is not only a country. It is also an idea.

On Tisha B'Av we recited Kinah 31, Eish Tukad B'Kirbi, in which Rabbi Yehudah HaLevi paints a striking contrast between two civilizations that have shaped Jewish history: Mitzrayim and Yerushalayim. Egypt represents exile, oppression, materialism, and a society built on power and human mastery. Jerusalem represents holiness, covenant, purpose, and the Divine Presence. The kinah teaches that the Jewish people are never merely choosing a political alliance or a geographic destination; we are choosing an orientation. Are we facing Mitzrayim or Yerushalayim? Are we drawn toward a culture that worships power, pleasure, and self, or toward the city that embodies faith, morality, and a relationship with God? Every generation must decide which direction it faces. Physically we may live anywhere in the world, but spiritually our compass points either toward Egypt or toward Jerusalem.

No one captured that idea more powerfully than Natan Sharansky in his final statement before the Soviet court that sentenced him in July 1978 to thirteen years in prison:

"During my interrogation the chief investigators threatened me that I might be executed by a firing squad, or imprisoned for at least fifteen years. But if I agreed to cooperate with the investigation for the purpose of destroying the Jewish emigration movement, they promised me freedom and a quick reunion with my wife.

Five years ago, I submitted my application for exit to Israel. Now I am further than ever from my dream. It would seem to be cause for regret. But it is absolutely the other way around. I am happy. I am happy that I lived honorably, at peace with my conscience. I never compromised my soul, even under the threat of death.

I am happy that I helped people. I am proud that I knew and worked with such honorable, brave and courageous people as Sakharov, Orlov, Ginzburg, who are carrying on the traditions of the Russian intelligentsia. I am fortunate to have been witness to the process of the liberation of Jews of the USSR.

I hope that the absurd accusation against me and the entire Jewish emigration movement will not hinder the liberation of my people. My near ones and friends know how I wanted to exchange activity in the emigration movement for a life with my wife, Avital, in Israel.

For more than two thousand years the Jewish people, my people, have been dispersed. But wherever they are, wherever Jews are found, every year they have repeated, 'Next year in Jerusalem.' Now, when I am further than ever from my people, from Avital, facing many arduous years of imprisonment, I say, turning to my people, my Avital: 'Next year in Jerusalem.'

Now I turn to you, the court, who were required to confirm a predetermined sentence: To you I have nothing to say."

This Shabbos is called Shabbos Nachamu, the Shabbos of comfort and consolation, because of the haftarah that begins with those words. Yeshayahu's message of solace is especially welcome this year. Yet we cannot help but wonder: what really changed between Tisha B'Av and Shabbos Nachamu? On Tisha B'Av we sat on the floor, fasting, mourning, and crying, not only over the destruction of the two Batei Mikdash, but over the entirety of Jewish suffering throughout history. We recite poignant kinnos describing the horrors of exile and persecution. So what suddenly changes that allows us to proclaim, "Nachamu," be comforted just a few days later?

Perhaps the answer lies in the continuation of the haftarah: "Dabru al lev Yerushalayim, Speak to the heart of Jerusalem." What does it mean to speak to the heart of Jerusalem, and how does doing so bring comfort?

In May 1979, Prime Minister Menachem Begin was invited to London for lunch with Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher at 10 Downing Street. As he entered, a reporter asked, "Are you going to ask Mrs. Thatcher for her support in recognizing Jerusalem as Israel's capital?" Begin answered curtly, "No, sir—under no circumstances." "Why not?" the reporter asked. Begin replied, "Because, sir, Jerusalem was a Jewish capital long before London was a British capital. When King David moved the capital of his kingdom from Hebron, where he had reigned for seven years, to Jerusalem, where he reigned for thirty-three years, the civilized world had never heard of London. In fact, they had never heard of Great Britain." With that, he turned and entered Number 10.

Today, thanks to Hashem’s kindness, the Jewish people once again exercise sovereignty over Jerusalem. America and many other nations recognize it as the undivided capital of the Jewish State. But we are still not satisfied. We have the city of Jerusalem, but not yet the full realization of the idea of Jerusalem. We have sovereignty, but we still long for the Beis HaMikdash, for the Divine Presence revealed, and for the daily miracles that once defined the city. The very fact that we remain unsatisfied, that we continue to yearn for something higher, is itself a source of comfort. Our consolation after Tisha B'Av comes not from forgetting our losses but from remembering who we are and where we are headed.

Dabru al lev Yerushalayim means speaking to the heart of the Jewish people, each of whom carries within them a piece of Jerusalem and is, in turn, a small piece of Jerusalem. It means making certain that never again will a Jew be prevented from visiting the Kotel, shopping in Machaneh Yehudah, walking through Yemin Moshe, or ascending Har HaBayis if they choose. It means helping our brothers and sisters recognize that Jerusalem is not merely a city. It is their birthright, their inheritance, their capital, and their destiny.

As Sharansky declared, "Now I am further than ever from my dream... But it is absolutely the other way around. I am happy." Sharansky was happy not because he had reached Israel, but because he refused to sacrifice his conscience to get there. Though physically farther from Jerusalem than ever before, spiritually he had never been closer.

The same is true for us. Though we still remain far from Yerushalayim HaBenuyah, the fully rebuilt Jerusalem, the very fact that we continue to long for her, pray for her, defend her, and refuse to surrender the idea of Jerusalem means that spiritually we have never been closer. That is the comfort of Shabbos Nachamu.

To Zohran Mamdani, I would simply say: You are right about one thing. Israel is an idea, but it is also a nation. Today, the nation of Israel stands stronger than ever, and the idea of Jerusalem has never burned more brightly in Jewish hearts. You can oppose the State of Israel, you can threaten its leaders, you can try to delegitimize its existence, but you cannot extinguish either the country of Israel or the eternal idea of Jerusalem.