Chen Pundak

In Philadelphia, a city that prided itself on welcoming everyone, a 'boycott ride' by bicycle was planned to target restaurants owned by Jewish proprietors around Rittenhouse. On the eve of the anniversary of Kristallnacht, the organizers singled out places such as Mac Mart, Huda, Goldie, Dizengoff, K’Far Café, and Schlesinger’s solely because their owners are Jewish or have ties to Israel, using language that called for these 'Zionist establishments' to leave the city and described the owners as “disgusting humans.” Seeing officials—from Mayor Cherelle Parker to Governor Josh Shapiro—reject this boycott outright, stressing that freedom of speech does not include the right to make Jewish businesses feel unwanted, was important. But what mattered even more was what ordinary citizens of Philadelphia and other cities chose to do. Instead of empty tables, the restaurants received an extraordinary wave of support. People lined up for the solidarity food crawl, ordered takeout, bought gift cards, and filled social media with messages of solidarity. The owners described the response as overwhelming—phone calls, emails, and in-person visits that drowned out the hostility. JewBelong posters scattered across the city put it plainly: 'Running over Jewish businesses isn’t a peace plan. Boycott the boycott ride'. Neighbors, business associations, and Jewish community organizations stood with the restaurants, making clear that the most powerful response is simply to show up, eat, and refuse to let these spaces become isolated. Today, as the bicycle route and the response gatherings unfold, what one sees are full restaurants and a city that, for the most part, rejected the premise of the boycott. There were confrontations and the police were present, but the dominant story is the number of people who decided that businesses owned by Jewish proprietors belong in Philadelphia and that attacking them on the basis of identity has no place here. In a moment that could have been one of isolation, the response was the opposite, a visible, practical, and deeply personal demonstration that these restaurants and the communities that sustain them are not alone.