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NYC MAYOR - There comes a point when silence becomes surrender.
For years, Jewish organizations have responded to increasingly incendiary attacks on Israel with press releases, strongly worded statements and expressions of outrage. They condemn. They protest. They issue letters.
Then they move on.
Meanwhile, the accusations grow more extreme, the audiences become larger and antisemitism continues to spread.
New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani has become one of the country's most prominent political voices accusing Israel of committing genocide. This week, he declared that Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu is "a war criminal" and "the architect of a horrific genocide against the Palestinian people."
Those are not ordinary political opinions.
They are among the most serious accusations that can be leveled against any nation or world leader.
So here is the question almost no one seems willing to ask:
Why isn't Zohran Mamdani being sued for defamation?
Whether such a lawsuit would ultimately succeed is another matter. American defamation law sets a deliberately high bar, particularly when public figures and political speech are involved. But the difficulty of prevailing in court does not mean the question should never be asked. At a minimum, it raises an important issue about accountability for public officials making accusations of extraordinary consequence.
For too long, the accusation of genocide has become normalized in public discourse about Israel.
It should never have happened.
"Genocide" is not a political slogan. It is the gravest accusation recognized under international law. It alleges the deliberate intent to destroy a protected group, in whole or in part. Whether that legal standard has been met in Gaza remains the subject of intense international dispute. Governments, legal scholars, military experts and international institutions continue to disagree. It is not an established fact.
Yet many politicians increasingly invoke the term as though the debate has already been settled.
That should concern everyone, regardless of where they stand on Israeli government policy.
There is an enormous difference between criticizing a government's military decisions and accusing it of genocide.
One is political disagreement.
The other is an allegation of one of humanity's worst crimes.
Precision matters.
The same principle applies when politicians describe Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu as a "war criminal." International legal proceedings involving Israel remain contested, and allegations before international tribunals are not the same as final judicial findings. Public officials have every right to criticize Israel's government, but they also have a responsibility to distinguish allegations from established legal conclusions.
Those distinctions are increasingly disappearing.
The consequences extend far beyond politics.
Across the United States and around the world, antisemitic incidents have risen sharply since the war began. Synagogues have increased security. Jewish students report intimidation and harassment on college campuses. Jewish institutions continue to face threats. While no single politician is responsible for every act of antisemitism, public officials should recognize that repeated inflammatory rhetoric can contribute to an already dangerous climate.
Jewish organizations understand this.
The American Jewish Committee recently warned that Mamdani's repeated rhetoric "legitimize[s] the unique demonization of Israel" and contributes to an environment in which violence against Jews becomes easier to justify.
That warning deserves to be taken seriously.
But warnings alone have not changed the conversation.
Every new speech grows louder.
Every new accusation reaches millions.
Every response sounds remarkably familiar.
Perhaps it is time to consider a different strategy.
Perhaps the courtroom—not because victory is guaranteed, but because facts deserve rigorous examination—is where these allegations should be tested.
Imagine requiring every accusation to be defended under oath.
Imagine demanding evidence instead of slogans.
Imagine forcing legal precision where political theater now dominates.
Even if such litigation ultimately failed, it could provide a public forum to examine the factual and legal foundations of allegations as consequential as genocide and war crimes. It would compel a broader discussion about what those terms actually mean and whether elected officials should employ them with greater care and precision.
Democracy depends on free speech.
But free speech does not eliminate accountability.
Political leaders should be free to criticize Israel.
They should be free to criticize Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.
They should be free to criticize any government.
But they should not expect their most consequential allegations to escape rigorous public scrutiny.
As Jews prepare to observe Tisha B'Av, we remember centuries of destruction, exile and persecution. History reminds us that false accusations against Jews have too often fueled hatred, violence and tragedy.
That history is precisely why truth matters.
If the Jewish community believes accusations of genocide are false, reckless and profoundly damaging, perhaps the question is no longer whether another press release should be issued.
Perhaps the question is whether those accusations should finally be challenged where facts carry the greatest weight.
Because if truth is worth defending, it is worth defending with more than outrage.
(Avrohom Moshe is a California-based civic affairs writer and public policy analyst focused on government accountability, fiscal responsibility, and public safety. He also writes on issues affecting the Jewish community, including combating antisemitism and advancing civic engagement.)
