At 96, Auschwitz survivor Jerry Wartski is still crisscrossing New York City to lecture crowds about the Holocaust. What he is not doing, he says, is openly signaling that he is Jewish. Wartski told reporters he buttons his shirt all the way up and tucks away a Star of David when he walks around town because he no longer feels safe wearing it in public. His quiet act of self-protection has dropped straight into a bitter local fight over antisemitism and protest politics.
In an exclusive interview, Wartski told The New York Post that he "keeps his shirt closed and does not advertise his Jewish identity," explaining that he hides his Star of David chain under his shirt when he steps out of his Midtown restaurant. According to The Post, he had been delivering a history lesson on antisemitism to local Democrats when he made the remarks and used the moment to criticize parts of the city’s political leadership. The interview became one more example of Holocaust testimony colliding with New York’s charged political climate.
Wartski’s backstory is familiar to many in the city’s Jewish community. Israel National News recounts that as a child he was deported from the Ozorków and Łódź ghettos and sent to Auschwitz, where his mother was murdered in the gas chambers and his father died in the final months of the war. He arrived in the United States in 1949, later built a career in Manhattan real estate, and in recent years has become a regular presence at communal Holocaust remembrance events.
"I hide my Star of David chain under my shirt when I walk outside," Wartski told The New York Post. The outlet also notes his long involvement in Jewish organizations. He is listed as an honorary president of the Israel Justice Organization, which helps organize tributes and testimony events. For many New Yorkers, the image of a man who has spent years publicly reliving the past while privately tucking away a symbol of faith captures a jarring contrast.
Politics And Public Memory
Wartski’s story has surfaced repeatedly in political settings. A transcript of a 2024 campaign event includes a public mention of him, and a recent Manhattan tribute that drew political figures highlighted how survivor accounts are getting pulled into partisan arguments. At the same time, Zohran Mamdani, who was sworn in as New York City’s mayor on Jan. 1, has become a flashpoint in debates over how leaders should handle protests and public safety concerns. The first-term mayor’s historic rise, and ongoing fights over Israel and protest tactics, have pushed questions about antisemitism to the center of city politics. Roll Call and The Washington Post each trace how Wartski’s public appearances and Mamdani’s inauguration have figured into that broader political conversation.
Citywide Spike In Antisemitic Incidents
Wartski’s choice to hide religious jewelry is unfolding against a steady stream of data and viral clips that keep antisemitism in the headlines. NYPD figures cited by The Times of Israel show a spike in confirmed anti Jewish hate crimes in May. A widely shared subway video, in which a rider allegedly shouted "Jews are eating kids" while assaulting another passenger, was covered by outlets including The Jerusalem Post. Community leaders say the mix of vandalism, harassment and outright violence is making visible religious symbols feel like a risk on city streets.
What City Hall Is Doing
City officials argue they are ramping up the response. In May, Mayor Mamdani’s executive budget set aside about $26 million to expand the Office to Prevent Hate Crimes, a significant bump that his administration framed as supporting prevention work, outreach and services for victims. The funding details were laid out in the fiscal year budget rollout, even as some Jewish organizations and elected officials continue to press for more concrete security measures on the ground. The Mayor's Office and reporting by local outlets describe how the spending plan fits into a wider strategy on hate crimes.
Why Survivors Keep Speaking
Organizers and Jewish groups say survivors like Wartski keep taking the microphone because firsthand testimony is still one of the most effective tools against denial and forgetting. That tension, they say, is hard to miss: a man who relives horror in public so others will remember, yet feels compelled to cover up a small emblem of the identity that made him a target. Community advocates argue that the real test for City Hall, law enforcement and institutions will be whether budgets, enforcement and persistent outreach actually translate into a city where people who want to wear their identity openly can do so without fear.
