Jew or Not Jew?

Who gets to decide if Jews—or Christians—are ‘real’?

In the days before the internet, one of the best games to play with my Jewish family was “Jew or Not Jew.” A public figure or an actor would come on TV and my father would repeat their name and say, “Jew or not Jew?” Usually Dad already knew the answers and seemed as keen to surprise me with folks who were Jewish as to trick me with those who were not. 

Star Trek’s William Shatner and Homicide’s Yaphet Kotto? “Jew!” Fantasy Island’s Ricardo Montalban? “Not Jew.”

Years later, when my ex-Mormon wife heard about this game, she looked at me and said, “You know, anti-Semites also play that game, but they mean something else.” 

Point taken. We don’t need to go back in time and cancel my family’s 1993 dinnertime conversation; lots of people in a multicultural society have a healthy interest in which famous people are also part of their community. It is a very different thing when people outside the community start asking the same questions in public. 

Case in point: former president Donald Trump, who has been pursuing the American Jewish vote by casting doubts on the Jewishness of public figures. Trump himself has Jewish grandkids, so how Jewish is this 2024 GOP version of Jew or Not Jew? And should we care? 

For the past few months Trump has been making an effort to woo Jewish voters based on his support for Israel and Biden’s (presumed) lack thereof. In the weeks after Harris replaced Biden on the ticket Trump has intensified his efforts. At a rally Trump informed supporters that Harris is “totally against the Jewish people.” (Harris is married to a Jew.) On a radio show, Trump declared “If you’re Jewish, if you vote for a Democrat, you’re a fool.” The host, Sid Rosenberg then said Harris’s husband (Doug Emhoff) was a “crappy Jew.” Trump agreed. 

Trump also told rally-goers how he feels about Jews who vote Democrat: “It amazes me how Jewish people will vote for the Democrats when they’re being treated so disrespectfully and badly. . . . It amazes me. It’s shocking.”

Trump likely does not know what he is doing, as is often the case. He simply says whatever comes into his mind. But the rest of us should be aware of what’s happening: Trump and the GOP have shifted from swaying Jewish voters to blaming Jewish voters.

He is not saying that he loves and respects Jewish voters and thinks they should vote GOP as a show of support to Israel. He is saying that some Jews are good Jews and some Jews are “crappy Jews,” and that the crappy Jews are insane. 

Jews who vote for Democrats, Trump said, “hate Israel” and hate “their religion.”

Pundits have weighed in on the strangeness of Trump’s rhetoric, especially given that when rapper Ye offered up a stream of virulent anti-Semitic statements in 2022, Trump’s response was to invite Ye to dinner. And Ye even brought another anti-Semite along with him—Nick Fuentes, who is known for nothing except hate speech. Commentators’ heads are spinning: Trump literally dines with avowed anti-Semites and he expects to get the Jewish vote? 

But this round of Jew or Not Jew isn’t intended for Jews at all. 

Trump’s rhetoric is an effort to remind evangelicals of his strong support for Israel by blaming the crisis there on the “bad Jews.” Despite the fact that an authoritarian Gaza regime carried out the Oct. 7 attacks, and that this security failure occurred under the oversight of the most right-wing Israeli government in history, the violence in the Middle East is Biden’s fault. For Jews then to vote Democrat is a betrayal of Israel. 

In other words, Trump is telling evangelicals that Jews themselves can’t be trusted with the security of Israel. It’s not a misstatement or a goof. Trump really believes that Jews who don’t vote for him are “crappy Jews”—not real Jews at all. By extension, evangelical Christians who support Israel must vote for him to protect Israel—and to defeat the false, crappy Jews. 

When Pennsylvania’s Gov. Josh Shapiro addressed the Democratic Convention last week, Trump posted that Shapiro was a “highly overrated Jewish Governor” who had done nothing for Israel. Shapiro’s speech to the convention wasn’t about Israel. It didn’t even mention Israel. Trump’s response was to remind voters that the Jews—unreliable Jews—didn’t support him. 

Maybe it wasn’t even that. Maybe it was just Trump pointing his finger and saying “Jew.”   

Trump’s rhetoric is not designed to win Jewish votes. It is designed to fan the flames of Christian anti-Semitism—to encourage voters already committed to voting for Trump to think of bad Jews as part of the vague conspiratorial mass he rails against so frequently. Again, Trump is probably unaware of the effects of his unhinged rhetoric—but he is surely signaling the anti-Semites that he too understands that Jews cannot be trusted.  

Nor is this game limited to Jews. When a group dubbed Evangelicals for Harris held a Zoom call on August 14, numerous Trump supporters attacked the group as un-Christian. Denny Burk of the Council for Biblical Manhood and Womanhood called support for Harris “a betrayal of the gospel.” Franklin Graham objected to the group, even though his niece (Billy Graham’s granddaughter) affirmed her support of Harris. 

This is not just a game about the Jews: It’s a GOP effort to make religious commitment secondary to political votes. If someone is a crappy Jew (or a crappy Christian), they are not siblings or fellow travelers. They are enemies. This game will begin with public declarations by leaders about who is a real Jew. It will spread. Louisiana’s GOP has already mandated that the Ten Commandments be posted on every school wall. Political leaders on the right are actively dictating what kind of religion is acceptable.   

This is now a game that evangelicals will have to decide whether or not to play. Should Christians be in the business of telling Jews who is and is not a real Jew? Or more specifically: Is it necessary for Christians who support Israel to also criticize Jews as part of the anti-Israel coalition? Trump is inviting evangelicals to embrace anti-Semitism. Evangelicals, in word and deed, should resist.   

Adam Jortner is the Goodwin-Philpott Professor of History at Auburn University, and the author of Audible’s anniversary series, The Hidden History of the Boston Tea Party.  

_{Image: Stained Glass Museum, Chicago}