Remarks by the Second Gentleman at a Campaign Event in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

[As Prepared for Delivery]

SECOND GENTLEMAN DOUGLAS EMHOFF: Thank you, Meryl and Yoni, and thank you Pittsburgh. You've welcomed me many times to mourn, to remember, and to rededicate ourselves to living proudly as Jews.

Thank you for opening your doors and arms once again, at this critical moment.

We have one week to go. One week to turn the page, chart a new way forward, and elect Kamala Harris.

I am so proud of the way she has stepped up, shared her vision, and prosecuted the case against Donald Trump's unhinged view of America and of our fellow Americans.

Kamala brings both joy and toughness to everything she does – and this campaign is no different.

Yesterday we marked the anniversary of the deadliest antisemitic attack in American history, a massacre at Shabbat services not far from where we gather right now.

And one year after the October 7 Hamas terrorist attacks against Israel, we are all still reeling.

So I want to talk about how we feel when we wake up, walk through the world, and stare at the ceiling at night:

It is an uncomfortable and unsettling time to be Jewish. These are hard days.

There is pride in our people, but also a deep sense of insecurity.

Like you, I know people who think twice about wearing a kippah or a Star of David.

Parents who are worried sick about their kids' safety on college campuses.

Young people who aren't just afraid that they're going to grow up with fewer rights than their grandparents, but who are being targeted for being Jewish in ways we thought only happened in our grandparents' time.

Everywhere I go, people tell me they also feel something else: loneliness.

In the rooms where you used to feel safe, you no longer feel welcome. It didn't always feel this lonely to be Jewish in America.

Like many of you, my family came to this country to escape these very fears. To feel this way in 2024 is disorienting and disconcerting.

But I'll tell you one place I've never felt that – where I've actually felt the opposite: the home I share with Kamala.

When we're shaken, we go home and talk to the people we love.

After Charlottesville, after Tree of Life, after October 7, the person I turned to and talked to was my wife.

After Hamas executed Hersh and the other hostages, she and I grieved together.

When we see the antisemitic attacks that are happening week by week in America – like the students wearing kippot who were assaulted while walking to the Hillel on this very campus, like the Federation building in Detroit that was vandalized on the anniversary of October 7, like the historic synagogue in Philadelphia that was defiled just last week, like the man who was shot in Chicago while walking to Shabbat services two days ago – Kamala and I recommit ourselves to extinguishing this epidemic of hate.

And let me make something else clear: we do not cower.

We take inspiration from communities like this one, which came together as one after Tree of Life – and from those Pitt students, who say they wear the signs of their Judaism even more proudly since being attacked.

We heard the antisemitic and racist speeches at Trump's Madison Square Garden rally yesterday.

It's appalling to hear those slurs, especially in the closing days of a campaign – and even more painful to hear them on the anniversary of the massacre at Tree of Life.

But nothing will stop me from living fearlessly as a Jew. Nothing will stop Kamala and me from speaking out. Nothing will take away our joy or our faith in America.

Kamala is someone whose conviction and compassion is driven by empathy as well as experience.

She hears the stories of people who practice a different faith – and especially those who are targeted because of it – and comes away with a sense of personal responsibility.

She knows how deeply our community has been re-traumatized and our fears about the future.

So this is not a footnote in her agenda. Bringing us together, defending those who are wronged, disparaged, and excluded is the essence of her life and her leadership.

And that is what we need in the Oval Office.

Now, anybody can say the right things on the campaign trail, and then go home and turn it off. Not Kamala.

Because when Kamala walks through the door at the end of the day, that door has a mezuzah on it.

And three months from now, with your help, the White House residence could have a mezuzah on its doorpost.

Let me be direct and answer the question that Jews have asked for generations: Yes, she feels it in her gut. Kamala feels it, as we say, in her kishkes.

Her commitment to the security of Israel is unwavering. I know this not just because of what she's said publicly – though she has said it consistently her entire career – but also by what she does and says when it's just us.

I've talked to her before and after her calls with Israel's leaders and diplomats.

She takes seriously her pledge – and I'm going to quote Kamala here – to "always ensure Israel has what it needs to defend itself from Iran and Iran-backed terrorists."

I saw her determination earlier this month after she spent hours in the Situation Room, coordinating in real time with our military to shoot down the missiles Iran launched into Israel's skies.

I've been next to her as she's steeled herself, with such care and compassion, to meet the hostage families.

And I've seen how those conversations both break her heart and strengthen her resolve.

I know what's in her soul. She feels what you and I – and Jews across America – are feeling today. She gets it.

And to tell you the truth, it's not because she married a nice Jewish boy. To be honest, she's been working on this longer than I have.

Growing up, she collected donations, in those iconic blue-and-white tzedakah boxes, to plant trees in Israel.

As District Attorney of San Francisco, she prosecuted antisemitic attacks as hate crimes.

As Attorney General, she published an annual report on hate crimes.

As a U.S. senator, the first resolution she passed – the very first – was to speak out against antisemitism.

Throughout her career, Kamala has strengthened the bonds between the United States and Israel, between the Israeli people and the American people.

She knows those bonds must remain strong regardless of which administration or leader is in power.

Over the last year, Kamala has worked every day for a deal to bring the hostages home and for a ceasefire – to protect innocent civilians in Gaza and make sure aid gets to those in need – and for a reality in which Israel is secure and Palestinians know the dignity, freedom, and self-determination they deserve.

Throughout her career, Kamala has been crystal clear in pledging – again, I'm going to use her words – to "always work to ensure the safety and security of the Jewish people here and around the world" and "support the existence of a secure, democratic homeland for the Jewish people." Those are direct quotes.

When Kamala is President, she will continue to stand with Israel and with the Jewish community – our community. She will reject antisemitic hate and the notion that Israel does not have the right to exist.

Kamala also knows that the justice Judaism commands us to pursue is not only about foreign policy.

It is also about ensuring everyone is respected, every vote is counted, and every woman has the freedom to make decisions about her own body.

Like some of you, I have walked along the train tracks that led into, but not out of, Auschwitz.

I have spoken to Holocaust survivors who hear in the present-day propaganda and intolerance the echoes of the 1930s – and warned us what was heading for America.

Last year, I met with a survivor who escaped to present-day Ukraine from Germany – but who now has been forced, in her advanced age, to escape to Germany from Ukraine.

And I went with Kamala to visit Yad Vashem. Before we left, Kamala wrote a note to share how devastated she was by – as she put it – "the silent testimonials of those who perished in the Shoah."

Kamala hears the silence of those we lost – she hears the silence of those who look the other way – and she urged me to use my voice. That is why I have used this role to do this work of fighting antisemitism and hate.

That's right: it was Kamala who encouraged me to take up this mission as Second Gentleman.

I am so proud to have helped the President and Vice President establish the first-ever National Strategy to Counter Antisemitism, mobilizing the full force of the federal government to protect Jewish communities.

One thing we know about antisemitism is that those who discriminate against us discriminate against all of us. There are many Jews far more religiously observant than I am – but as I said to an Orthodox rabbi, they hate us all equally.

Another thing we know is that anti-Semites usually don't stop there.

Those who hate Jews often hate Muslims, hate people of color, hate LGBTQ people, hate anyone who doesn't look or pray or think like they do.

And a third thing we know about antisemitism is that whenever chaos and cruelty are given a green light, Jew-hatred is historically not far behind.

That matters today because Donald Trump is nothing if not an agent of chaos and cruelty.

People run for office for one of two reasons: to hold power or to lead people.

And when you look at the candidates on your ballot, that is the choice.

He is running for himself. She is running for you – for us. In fact, that distinction has been the driving force for each of them throughout their very different careers.

He is a conman and a convicted criminal who tears others down. She is a prosecutor and a public servant who lifts people up.

He has lost the support of those who worked with him the closest. She proudly accepts their endorsements.

He demeans immigrants with the same hateful slurs hurled at our ancestors – "vermin" and "animals" who "poison the blood of our country."

He scapegoats Jewish voters to our faces, saying that if he loses, it will be the fault of the Jews.

He looks at Adolf Hitler's generals and sees something to admire.

Let that sink in.

You do not reward someone like that with a platform – or with power – and never again with the Presidency.

Now, you and I have heard the arguments that give Trump the benefit of the doubt despite all his nonsensical, hateful rhetoric; despite his takeover of the Supreme Court; despite his insurrection at the Capitol; despite his promise to be a dictator on day one.

But this is different. Last time, there were people around him who checked his worst instincts.

If there is a next time, they won't be there. The people who know that Trump should be nowhere near the Situation Room are the ones who will be locked out.

Just listen to his own Vice President, his own Chief of Staff, his own Defense Secretary, his own National Security Advisor.

Donald Trump demands loyalty – but he is loyal to nothing but himself. If it suited his selfish interests, Trump would turn his back on Israel and the Jewish people on a dime.

Whenever antisemitism rears its ugly head in this country, we should never have to wonder where our government stands.

We should never have to wonder whether our leaders are praising Nazis behind closed doors.

When I used to speak to a jury at the end of a trial, I would often say to them: Believe what you see. Trust the facts staring you in the face.

So when Donald Trump says something unhinged, do not roll your eyes. Roll up your sleeves.

Let me finish where I started: this has been a heartbreaking year to be a Jew in America.

The question is: will next year be even harder – for us and for Americans of every background, for all of us who believe in freedom?

The answer is in our hands. The answer is on our ballots.

How many times have you read our history and asked: What were they thinking? Why didn't they stop it? Why didn't they act?

Embedded in that question is this truth: we have a choice.

There is a fire in this country. Either we pour water on it, or we pour gasoline.

That is the choice every one of us faces right now. Because fighting antisemitism and all forms of hate is the responsibility of every American.

Kamala and I planted a pomegranate tree at the Vice President's residence this past October 7.

It commemorates both the pain and the perseverance of the Jewish people.

We pray that this symbol of hope will grow into a tree of life, reflecting the resilience of the congregation here in Pittsburgh of the same name.

Our Proverbs liken the Torah to a Tree of Life. But there's an important condition attached. The full verse says it is "a tree of life – for those who hold fast to it."

In other words, it is only a source of goodness if you choose to honor it.

That is the story of America, too.

Our Constitution only works if we choose to respect the rule of law.

Our democracy only works if we choose to respect one another – and if we elect leaders who serve us rather than themselves.

As Ben Franklin famously said here in Pennsylvania, it's only a republic if we can keep it.

This is the most important election in our lifetimes – and as Kamala says, the most important election in the lifetime of our nation.

We're being asked whether we will protect America's promise as a welcoming society – for Jews and for everyone. A nation where no one ever feels attacked or alone.

There is only one candidate in this race who will bring us closer to that reality.

In your gut – in your kishkes – you know that's true. And you know what we need to do to elect her as our next President.

Thank you.