10 Feb SUPER BOWL 2026: SYMPATHY OR STEREOTYPE?

This year’s Super
Bowl commercial
focuses on
combating
antisemitism.
The ad portrays a
young Jewish teenager named David
walking through a public school hallway,
where two bullies shove into him from
both sides. Other students are shown
giggling at his expense. When David
reaches his locker and takes off his
backpack, he discovers a sticky note with
the words “dirty Jew” written on it.
At that moment, a Black student
approaches him and places a blank blue
sticky note over the offensive message,
telling David not to pay attention to it and
that he knows how he feels. As David
turns around, ready to confront whoever
may have put it there, the other boy stops
him and tells him that they are not worth
it. The two then shake hands and walk
away together. The commercial ends
with the message that two out of three
Jewish children experience antisemitism.

Although the idea of combating
antisemitism is necessary and
praiseworthy, in my opinion this
commercial may produce the opposite
effect. At first glance, its message seems
simple: raise awareness of antisemitism
and hope that by exposing it, society will
address or reduce it. But history
repeatedly teaches us that appealing for
pity and showing vulnerability rarely
brings positive results.
People rarely feel genuine sympathy for
the weak Jew as a victim; on the contrary,
they tend to respect and support us when

we are strong, successful, and self-
assured. Pleading for pity from the world

has never worked, and it will not work
now. I recall Rabbi Avigdor Miller once
saying that when we advertise to the
world the crimes committed by the Nazis
against helpless Jews, the outcome is not
universal sympathy. Instead, we
unintentionally provide ideas and fuel for
those who already wish us harm.
Yes, of course, many Americans may

resonate with the
message of the
commercial and feel
concern or empathy.
But this is only part
of the audience. For
others, portraying
Jews primarily as
weak victims
reinforces the
stereotype of
vulnerability, rather
than inspiring
admiration, respect, or protection. The
lasting lesson of history is clear: our
safety and dignity have always come
from strength, resilience, and visible
capability, not from seeking pity.
In short, while the intent of the ad is
noble, its approach may inadvertently
undermine the very goal it seeks to
achieve. It risks sending the wrong
message about Jewish identity and how
the world perceives us.
This commercial actually illustrates my
point in a subtle way. When the boy
places a blue sticky note on top of the
offensive one, what does that really
accomplish? The hateful note is not
erased; it merely gets covered,
temporarily hidden. This action
symbolizes the nature of such
“solutions”—like placing a bandage on
a wound that doesn’t heal, or taking
Tylenol when sick, which masks the
pain for a short time but does not address
the underlying illness. In some cases,
the problem even resurfaces with greater
force.
Similarly, showing a Jewish child being
bullied or humiliated does not solve the
problem of antisemitism. Instead, it
risks reinforcing the perception of Jews
as weak or vulnerable, potentially
making them a target rather than
inspiring respect or understanding.
History teaches that our safety, dignity,
and influence have always come from

visible strength, resilience, and self-
assuredness—not from asking for pity.

If we want to connect this to the Torah
portions we have been studying lately,
we can see the same principle in the
story of Pharaoh. As long as the Jews
were weak, he enslaved them and killed
their children. But when Hashem
revealed their strength, Pharaoh came to

respect them and ultimately freed them.
The same lesson appears with Amalek,
who attacks only the weak—those whom
the clouds did not protect. Similarly, in
the story of Purim, which we will soon
celebrate, Haman and the enemies of the
Jews were ready to carry out their “final
solution” when the Jews were defenseless.
But as soon as the Jews gained permission
from King Achashverosh to defend
themselves, the enemies retreated. This
teaches us that strength, courage, and the
ability to defend ourselves are what
ultimately earn respect, protection, and
survival.
Moreover, we can learn this very idea
from recent events. When Israel was
attacked on October 7, the bullies of the
world celebrated and openly vowed to
join in and take part in its destruction.
But as soon as Israel fought back with
determination and defeated its many
enemies, the tone began to change.
Strength commanded restraint, and
resolve forced reconsideration. Once
again, reality demonstrated that weakness
invites aggression, while strength deters
it.
Even though everything Israel has done
since then is fully justified, on a personal
level, when I walk the streets of New
York, I would much rather be seen by my
enemies as an aggressor than as a victim.
I would rather be blamed for being strong
than pitied for being weak. I would rather
see buildings lit in Palestinian colors out
of sympathy for them than see Israeli
flags projected out of sympathy for us, as
happened after October 7.
As Rabbi Meir Kahane once said, he
would rather be hated by the world when
we are victorious than receive the world’s
sympathy after catastrophe, as happened
following the Holocaust.