The crucial role of Orthodox liaisons in New York politics today

Photos: Naftoli Goldgrab

It was about two weeks before the 2013 New York City mayoral election, and Republican nominee Joe Lhota was campaigning in Boro Park. He made his way down 13th Avenue, stopped in at a music store, glad-handed some passersby who grumbled about taxes, and listened as a woman demanded that he inject more “excitement” into his campaign.

On a whim, the campaign decided that Lhota would step into the famed Shomrei Shabbos shul for a quick visit. Because this was during Minchah, three female reporters were denied entry. Things deteriorated quickly.

The three took to Twitter to complain about discrimination, precipitating a mini-crisis for the campaign. Bill de Blasio, the Democratic nominee, dashed off a press release blasting Lhota, who earned a day’s worth of negative press for the move.

It was a lesson for Michael Fragin, deputy mayor of the Village of Lawrence and a storied Jewish liaison for Republican candidates going back a quarter century, including Governor George Pataki. Fragin, 49, was the Jewish campaign liaison who accompanied Lhota on that trip and he recalls the incident ruefully.

“By the time we got to the next stop, everyone was upset that we ‘threw out’ the women,” he says. “That was definitely a mess-up. The lesson I learned is not to take a candidate into a situation where you don’t have total control.”

The institution of a Jewish liaison for a campaign or elected official is relatively recent. While there’s rich historic precedent for the role of “shtadlan,” the current election cycle in New York was the second time — the first being 2013 — when every top-tier candidate for citywide office, as well as borough president candidates in Queens and Brooklyn, maintained a Jewish staffer.

The liaison is usually the first frum Jew the candidate knows up close, and enjoys an extraordinary level of trust from the candidate, who basically relies on him to avert mistakes in a community he knows only from afar.

Operating mostly under the radar, the club is fairly exclusive, with about two dozen people fitting the bill — acting as the candidate’s eyes and ears to the frum constituency, working to secure lucrative endorsements and donors, and protecting the candidate from scammers claiming to represent the community. These liaisons are everywhere substantial Orthodox communities can be found: in Boro Park, Williamsburg, Monsey, New Square, Kiryas Joel, and Crown Heights.

The veil shrouding an industry that mostly operates behind the scenes is rarely lifted, but in a two-hour conversation, three political liaisons — Fragin, Yoel Lefkowitz, and Benny Polatseck — traded war stories and insights to write the playbook for this little-understood position.

“To have a Jewish liaison is not a luxury, it’s mandatory,” declared Lefkowitz, who lives in Williamsburg. “It saves a lot of aggravation and it pays for itself fully, plus.”

Yoel Lefkowitz, whose entire education was in the Satmar network, cut his political chops at his grandfather’s knee. Reb Sender Deutsch, a legend in the Williamsburg political scene, took his grandson along to events and explained the workings of city government.

“Everything happened in his house,” Lefkowitz, 40, recalled. “There were always meetings going on there — with elected officials, rabbanim, rebbes, everybody. He was always ready to answer any questions. When I was a small child, he took me along to every big event.”

Lefkowitz’s first experience as a campaign liaison was Alan Hevesi’s 2002 run for reelection as state comptroller. “I did many campaigns, some for money, some for passion, some successful, some not,” Lefkowitz said.

“I got sucked into it,” said Benny Polatseck, 32, a Monsey communications strategist and videographer who somehow ended up advising candidates on how to approach the Orthodox community for votes. “But I like the work.”

The first time a campaign hired him solely for his credentials and not to liaise with the Jewish community was this year, when he did video editing and communications for Eric Adams, the winner of the Democratic mayoral primary.

His educational background comprises a single line: “Satmar, Satmar, Satmar. Satmar cheder, Satmar mesivta, Satmar yeshivah gedolah, kollel for two weeks — not including sheva brachos.” He is self-taught when it comes to videos and strategy, a result of his father Dovid pushing him to always be curious about the world. “The more you know, the more successful you are,” his father drilled into him.

“Whatever I know,” Polatseck mused, “is because I messed up so many times. When the Adams campaign asked how I know my work without going to college, I said, ‘I went to the college of mess-ups.’ ”

The other Jewish liaisons concede the efficacy of Polatseck’s curriculum. “There is no experience like real-life experience,” he says.