Haley Stevens drew a red line on antisemitism, even if Democrats won't - opinion

There is something remarkable about a politician willing to put principle before party, particularly when doing so comes at considerable personal and political cost.

Michigan Congresswoman Haley Stevens has demonstrated what that looks like. 

Her decision to break with her own party over what she considers a fundamental moral issue deserves to be understood in a broader context: the importance of having red lines that transcend partisan loyalty.

Stevens, who narrowly lost the Democratic Senate primary to Abdul El-Sayed, ultimately withdrew her support for the Democratic nominee and endorsed Republican Mike Rogers. The breaking point was not simply a disagreement over Israel policy. It was a series of statements and actions that, in Stevens' view, crossed a line she could not ignore. 

Advertisement invokes antisemitic trope 

Consider the advertisement produced by Rebellion PAC, founded by Cenk Uygur, uncle of political streamer Hasan Piker. The advertisement depicted a couple shopping for groceries, suggesting that they could not afford eggs because they needed to set aside money for "killing Palestinians." 

Its central message was that American support for Israel was responsible for the economic hardships facing ordinary Americans. This was not merely criticism of American foreign policy. It invoked one of the oldest antisemitic tropes: that Jews and their political influence are responsible for the financial hardships of others.

It made the Jewish state a scapegoat for the economic struggles of American families.

In addition to being an antisemitic trope, the claim that American families are struggling to afford groceries because the United States provides aid to Israel is not supported by the economic facts.

In 2025, the United States provided approximately $3.3 billion in aid to Israel, but the federal government spent approximately $7 trillion that same year. That means aid to Israel amounted to less than five-hundredths of one percent of total federal spending. Moreover, the aid was military assistance, not money that would otherwise have been distributed to American households or used to lower grocery prices.

There are legitimate debates to be had about whether American military aid to Israel is justified, but suggesting that it is responsible for the financial struggles of American families is a gross distortion of the economic reality.

Stevens demanded that El-Sayed condemn the advertisement. His initial response was that it was not affiliated with his campaign. But as Stevens pointed out, a disclaimer is not a condemnation. The advertisement was especially troubling because Stevens argued that it did not invent an argument; it amplified one El-Sayed himself had repeatedly made, connecting American economic struggles to financial support for Israel. 

While many Democrats are rightly concerned about the prospect of losing the opportunity to flip the Senate, the outrage directed at Stevens is misplaced. She did not create this rupture; El-Sayed did.

All he had to do was unequivocally condemn an advertisement scapegoating Jews and Israel. Had the same advertisement targeted any other marginalized community, a campaign disclaimer would hardly have sufficed. The political double standard is difficult to ignore.

Graham Platner, a Democratic Senate candidate whose tattoo was identified as resembling a Nazi SS symbol, for example, remained in the race until allegations of sexual misconduct emerged and prompted him to suspend his campaign. It raises an uncomfortable question: Why doesn't antisemitism carry the same political price?

His positions on Israel offered further context for Stevens' concerns. El-Sayed's own campaign released an advertisement featuring Tucker Carlson, who had publicly criticized Mike Rogers.

El-Sayed has also made clear that his opposition to military aid to Israel extends beyond offensive weapons: he opposes US funding for the defensive Iron Dome missile defense system as well.

El-Sayed connects terror attack in US to Israeli airstrikes in Lebanon

Following the terrorist attack on my hometown congregation, Temple Israel in West Bloomfield, El-Sayed had issued a statement condemning the attack but then proceeded to explain it through the familiar refrain that "hurt people hurt people," connecting the attack to the death of the assailant's family members in Israeli airstrikes in Lebanon.

The issue was not whether the attack should be condemned. El-Sayed did condemn it. The issue was why, in the immediate aftermath of a terrorist attack against a synagogue filled with children, he felt compelled to contextualize the attack through the suffering of the terrorist's family.

Months later, El-Sayed apologized to Jewish Democrats, saying he had made a mistake and should have ended his statement with the condemnation. But as his explanation continued, he clarified that he believed the broader context was legitimate.

The problem was that he had introduced it at the wrong moment, before his audience was ready to hear it. For many Jews, that distinction was hardly reassuring.

Stevens was being asked to overlook not merely one unfortunate statement, but a pattern of rhetoric and responses that raised legitimate questions about whether Jewish concerns were being taken seriously.

Consider the way Democrats responded to Liz Cheney.

For years, Cheney was one of the most conservative Republicans in Congress. Democrats disagreed with her on virtually everything. Yet when she chose to stand up to Donald Trump, challenge his false claims about the 2020 election, and participate in the investigation of January 6, many Democrats celebrated her as a profile in political courage.

In October 2022, Cheney went a step further, formally endorsing Democrat Elissa Slotkin in her Michigan reelection campaign and subsequently campaigning with her. They understood that there are moments when principle must supersede party loyalty.

Cheney was willing to sacrifice her political future rather than remain silent about something she believed threatened American democracy.

Why should the standard be any different for Haley Stevens? If Democrats can recognize moral courage in a Republican who challenges her own party, they should be able to recognize it in a Democrat who does the same.

Political courage cannot be something we celebrate only when it serves our own political interests. It is easy to challenge the other side. It is considerably harder to challenge your own.

What’s encouraging is that Stevens is not alone.

John Fetterman has repeatedly challenged his own party over its treatment of Israel and the Jewish community, declaring that Israel and American Jews deserve better from Democrats.

Ritchie Torres has refused to subordinate his convictions about Israel to the prevailing orthodoxy of the progressive movement.

Josh Gottheimer and Jared Moskowitz have publicly challenged their fellow Democrats over what they see as a double standard in confronting antisemitism.

On the Republican side, Randy Fine and Ted Cruz have confronted antisemitism within their own political movement, including the influence of Tucker Carlson.

In November 2025, Josh Hawley directly condemned Nick Fuentes's antisemitism and warned against allowing such figures to define the Republican Party. He made clear that antisemitic hatred and tropes have no place in conservatism.

These politicians do not agree on much. They do not share a political ideology. But they demonstrate something essential: the willingness to defend a principle even when doing so makes life more difficult within one's own political party.

The Democratic Party has long presented itself as a coalition committed to protecting marginalized communities. That commitment must include Jewish Americans.

Jewish safety should not be treated as a competing political interest, or as an inconvenient exception to the party's broader commitments.

Jewish Americans deserve the same consideration afforded to Black Americans, LGBTQ Americans, immigrants, and every other community whose safety and dignity are at stake.

If Democrats are willing to overlook serious concerns about a candidate's rhetoric and positions because defeating a Trump-endorsed Republican is considered more important, what message does that send to Jewish Americans?

If the party concludes that Jewish voters will remain loyal regardless of how dismissively their concerns are treated, it has little incentive to change.

There must be political consequences when a party fails to uphold the values it claims to represent.

Jewish voters should not be expected to provide unconditional loyalty while being told that their concerns are secondary to the larger political objective.

A party that wants to retain the trust of Jewish Americans must put forward candidates who understand that protecting Jews is just as much a part of its moral commitments as protecting any other vulnerable community.

What deserves recognition in Haley Stevens' decision is not necessarily the political outcome it produces, or even the candidate she has chosen to support.

We should not have to agree with every political decision she has made to recognize the significance of this one. Nor does commending her require endorsing Mike Rogers.

This is not an argument about how anyone should vote. It is an argument about what we should expect of our elected officials: the willingness to draw a line when something violates their conscience, even when doing so threatens their standing within their own party.

We often speak about political courage as though it belongs exclusively to those who challenge the other side. But the more meaningful test comes when the challenge is directed inward, when a politician risks the support of allies, donors, colleagues, and voters rather than remain silent for the sake of party unity.

Political parties are coalitions, not moral authorities. They deserve our support when they uphold our values, and our criticism when they fail to do so.

We may debate Stevens' judgment, her politics, or the consequences of her decision. But we should not overlook what it takes to make it. In a political culture that too often rewards loyalty over principle, Stevens has reminded us that conscience must sometimes come before political convenience. That deserves our respect.

Olivia Brodsky, a native of West Bloomfield, Michigan, is the Cantor and Co-Clergy of East End Temple in Manhattan.