We have seen this movie before. Different costumes, same plot. A loud outsider storms the stage promising redemption without repentance, power without responsibility, miracles without morals. The Jews, exhausted by history and bruised by exile, are told once again: This one will save you. And once again, too many are tempted to believe it. Just what the Jews needed—another false messiah. This time in a red tie, not sandals. His name is Donald Trump.

Judaism has an ancient allergy to messianic shortcuts. We are the people who buried Shabbatai Tzvi under layers of trauma, who learned—painfully—that charisma is not prophecy and power is not holiness. The Rambam warns that messianism is not proven by spectacle but by substance: justice, humility, wisdom, restraint. And yet here we are, watching Jews—especially religious Jews who should know better—suspend 3,000 years of theological caution for a man whose defining traits are vulgarity, cruelty, and self-worship.

Trump is not a messiah. He is not even a kosher strongman. He is a mirror, reflecting back our worst instincts: fear masquerading as faith, tribalism masquerading as Torah, and political idolatry masquerading as gratitude.

Yes, he moved the embassy. Yes, he said nice things about Israel. Yes, he weaponized evangelical love for........

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