One of Rabbi Tarlan Rabizadeh’s favorite duties as Vice President, Director of the Maas Center and Miller Introduction to Judaism program at American Jewish University is welcoming newcomers. “Since Oct. 7,” the Los Angeles-born Persian rabbi said, “we have had a huge surge, tons of people super-interested in taking a class. Many always have wanted to learn about Judaism, to take the course, and this propelled them to take the plunge.”
Entering her third year as director, Rabbi Tarlan noted there has been a major change in the typically 70-person group enrolling in the 18-week course. “When this program came into fruition, it was for people who wanted to convert to Judaism before getting married,” she said. “Based on our research, people are taking our class now after they are married but before they have kids.” Even in-laws are taking the course to learn what will be taught to their son or daughter.
When an interfaith couple inquires, the Jewish partner is encouraged to also take the course so the two can talk about it. Regarding laws of Shabbat, the rabbi said, “especially students from a Catholic background, are, like, ‘Oh my gosh, I have to do everything one by one by one.’ And so – the Jewish partner may say, ‘Honey, that’s okay. We don’t do that. We can drive on Shabbat.’ That is part of the conversation they need to have.”
Raised in a home where both of her parents were born in Iran, Rabbi Tarlan is no stranger to pushing back. She prides herself on bringing change to the Introduction to Judaism curriculum. “Originally it was very much a Conservative program,” the rabbi said. “I have opened it up to be more about teaching traditions as they were originally given – but allowing people to do Jewish on their own terms. That is our tagline.” She is proud of the program’s miniscule dropout rate, only one or two per term.
As for distinctions between men and women pursuing conversion, be careful how you address them. “There is no more ‘ladies and gentlemen,’” the rabbi explained. “We have a handful of people who identify as ‘they.’”
Since Oct. 7, there has been an explosion of Jews interested in making aliyah. “It matters if their mother was Jewish,” Rabbi Tarlan said “I was ordained from a Reform seminary (Hebrew Union College) that doesn’t care about those kinds of things. Israel does.” There’s a critical distinction, she explained. “For Israel, anyone who has Jewish blood can make aliyah,” the rabbi said. “But whether they would be considered Jewish and welcomed in Jewish communities is a different matter.” Rabbi Tarlan teaches “the different” kinds.
Stoutly proud of her Persian culture that infuses every pore, it is her guiding light. “I took this job,” she said, “to be a director and an educator, to be sure this curriculum wasn’t just Ashkenazi. It was. There’s a whole recipe section on how to make your bubbe’s babkas.”
Clearly, she loves her chosen path. “I get to teach people not only what it means to be Jewish, but how to do Jewish,” the rabbi said. “I welcome them into the tribe in a way that explains all the nuances, including mother-in-law comments and Jewish guilt. I catch them up in 18 weeks, students from Korea, Japan, Dubai, New York, Arkansas. We do Zoom, in-person at IKAR or Sinai, or online.”
Her goal is to make students from around the world understand there are different ways of being Jewish. Rabbi Tarlan mentioned one of her students from India: “They don’t want to know about the difference between Jesus and God. They want to learn ‘Do I have to put my curry away or can I put it on gefilte fish?’”
When she explains “We are not really boxed in, in the Persian community,” she means, “We don’t speak in terms of Reform, Conservative or Orthodox except maybe to explain to others where we are on the spectrum.”
Rabbi Tarlan attended Stephen Wise Temple’s day school, but the Rabizadehs “didn’t really” go there for services. “When I asked my Dad ‘Why did you send me to a Jewish school,’ he said ‘Your grandpa made me.’” Her grandparents were “quite religious,” she noted. “I asked my Dad why Stephen Wise and not Sinai. He said a couple reasons: It was right next to our house, and he said he loved that they have two and a half hours of Hebrew speaking every other day. He loved the Zionism and the Hebrew, but not halacha in the same way.”
Asked how her parents responded to her deepening religiosity, the rabbi said “I don’t know how observant I am, but I am pretty religious. I don’t think they understand that nuance. When I told them I wanted to become a rabbi, they looked at me and said, ‘You’re a woman.’ They didn’t know Stephen Wise would order non-kosher meat. ‘Who’s going to hire you? You’re a woman.’”
Ordained in 2018, Rabbi Tarlan noted that Rabbi Sharon Brous, founder of the IKAR community, was her 10th grade teacher at Milken Community High School and a powerful influence on a rabbinic direction.
En route to earning two Master’s degrees, Rabbi Tarlan was asked how she ended up at Boston University. “I ran away,” she said. “I looked at a map and saw it was the farthest from L.A., diagonally.”
As a American native, Rabbi Tarlan has one problem with her country. “We are a little isolated,” she said. “We don’t have enough neighbors except for Canada and Mexico. We are isolated from cultures. When you live in Italy, you have neighbors like Germany and France not so far away.”
Rabbi Tarlan hopes to start a synagogue “just like my inspiration, Rabbi Brous, did at IKAR – but for the Persian Jewish community.”
Fast Takes with Rabbi Tarlan
Jewish Journal: Your favorite place to travel?
Rabbi Tarlan: Israel. That is not an obvious answer. You have rabbis who don’t want to go to Israel. I shop. My Dad used to say, ‘If you’re going to waste my money, I prefer you waste it in Israel.’ I shop a lot.
J.J.: What do you do in your spare time?
RT: Sleep. And I see my friends. I am also starting to paint again, portraiture.
J.J.Your favorite Shabbat meal?
RT: Persian Jews make many special dishes on Friday night. My favorite is ghormeh sabzi (Persian herb stew).
“How dare you go to war when all conditions are now against us? How dare you?! No power will support us … We will have to fight on two fronts and maybe three. Even the United States does not support us … we will have no weapons supply if we run into shortages during the war.”
The speaker: The leader of the religious Zionist Party, Moshe Haim Shapira. The reprimanded officer: Chief of Staff, Yitzhak Rabin. The time: The so-called “waiting period,” a tense three weeks between the time in which Egyptian forces crossed the Suez Canal and the breakout of the 1967 Six Day War.
Israel was under pressure; the Chief of Staff was under pressure. Historians have more than one interpretation concerning Rabin’s eventual “collapse” under pressure. There was Rabin’s version, and there was Air Force Chief and future president Ezer Weizman’s. The short biography on Rabin written by Prof. Itamar Rabinovich, undoubtedly a very sympathetic writer (he was a close advisor to Rabin in his second term as Prime Minister), beautifully describes the increasing burden on Rabin. Former PM David Ben-Gurion shouts at him; Defense Minister Moshe Dayan makes life difficult for him; Shapira presses him. When politicians are under pressure, they tend to pass it on to those in charge of military affairs.
Kibbutz member Kenny Feinstein inspects his car that was damaged after a drone attack on July 11, 2024 in the Galilee region of Israel. (Photo by Amir Levy/Getty Images)
“The three meetings took a heavy toll on Rabin,” Rabinovich wrote. He tends to accept Rabin’s version. His wife Leah, believing her husband must get some rest, called a medical officer who sedated Rabin. He slept for the next 24 hours, and then went back to work. The waiting period was tense. In retrospect it turned out that Israel’s anxieties were overstated. Within six days it defeated its enemies. Of course, the parallels stop here. No one expects such a rapid victory in a war against Hezbollah, Yemen and Iran, which would be an unwelcome addition to the war with Hamas. As I write these words, a war hasn’t started. By the time you read them, who knows what’s going to happen.
As I write these words, a war hasn’t started. By the time you read them, who knows what’s going to happen.
Back in 1967, Israel had a cautious political leadership and an energetic military leadership. General Ariel Sharon hoped that a war would convince the Egyptians not to fight Israel “for the next 10 or 20 years” (as described by historian Tom Segev). Sharon was right in his realization that Israel can bring about “the total destruction of the Egyptian forces.” Sharon was wrong in his assessment that a heavy blow, such as the one delivered by Israel in the Six Day War, would indeed deter the Egyptians for 10 or 20 years. It deterred Egypt for no more than two. Which tells us something about the limits of two common clichés that we hear a lot these days – that restraint is a positive attribute of policy, and that deterrence is an effective tool of policy.
Smoke rises over the Gaza Strip after an Israeli bombardment as seen from a position on the Israeli side of the border on July 3, 2024 in Southern Israel. (Photo by Amir Levy/Getty Images)
Would it have been better for Israel if the days of that long waiting period, on the eve of the Six Day War, had been used to prevent the war? Would the situation in the Middle East have been better if the Johnson administration had been more resolute, more determined, in its dealings with the Egyptians and the Syrians? Alternative history is fun, but not quite serious fun. The war would not have broken out, Israel would not have won – with alternative history, all bets are off. Perhaps the future would have progressed in the direction of reconciliation and peace, perhaps the continuation would have been a more difficult war under more difficult conditions a few years later. And here, trying to draw a parallel is possible. It is difficult to say emphatically what would be more beneficial to Israel: A major flare-up that would reshuffle all the cards in the Middle East, or maybe Israel’s interest is to have a limited exchange of blows, the result of which would be the preservation of the existing balance of power?
Would it have been better for Israel if the days of that long waiting period, on the eve of the Six Day War, had been used to prevent the war?
The existing balance of power is unstable. Sticking to it probably means more rounds of violence in the future, perhaps on better terms for Israel, perhaps not.
Shortly after the Oct. 7 attack, the Israeli cabinet faced a dilemma. Israel’s north was evacuated because of the understandable fear of a massacre of Israelis who live by the Lebanese border. Israel’s troops were facing south, as the need to fight Hamas was obvious. Hezbollah – warned and undeterred by President Biden’s “don’t!” speech – assessed that it could act with relative impunity against Israel.
Defense Minister Yoav Gallant smelled an opportunity. Hamas is a small player. Hezbollah is the much larger fish. Maybe Israel ought to turn a calamity into an opportunity and attack in the north rather than the south?
Prime Minister Netanyahu and the cabinet debated and rejected Galant’s proposal. The other ministers had three main objections: One – Hamas was the enemy that Israelis wanted to fight, and fighting on two fronts is a challenge. Two – Hamas is the enemy whose defeat seemed more realistic, and Israel wanted a clear show of its ability to eliminate an enemy. Three – fighting Hezbollah could mean a flare-up of a regional war, and the U.S. put immense pressure on Israel to not act in a way that would increase the likelihood of such a war.
Mourners attend a funeral for ten of the victims of the rocket attack in Majdal Shams, Golan Heights. (Photo by Amir Levy/Getty Images)
And so, a status quo emerged: Hezbollah barraged Israel daily, in a fashion reminiscent of the war that came after the Six Days War – the 1969-1970 War of Attrition. With time, Yemenite radicals joined the party and contributed their rockets. And in April, Iran took the most visibly aggressive step against Israel in its history and sent hundreds of flying explosive devices to Israel. Israel’s response on all fronts was limited. It aimed to contain the violence and focus on Hamas.
A status quo emerged: Hezbollah barraged Israel daily, in a fashion reminiscent of the war that came after the Six Days War – the 1969-1970 War of Attrition.
Was this decision, to refrain from igniting a broader flareup, a mistake? Again – we can toy with alternative histories, but it all leads to dead ends. The downside of the current situation is clear: Hezbollah and Iran are exactly where they want to be. They can harass Israel without the need to worry about grave consequences. Israel does not want a larger war; they don’t want a larger war. But that’s just a headline below which a sub-headline is necessary:Israel doesn’t want a larger war – and expects hostilities to end. Iran and Hezbollah do not want a larger war – and aim for hostilities to continue. Israel’s hands are tied — by operational limits, by its need to remain focused on Gaza, by its allies. The hands of its enemies are relatively free. They need to make sure of just one thing: To keep their action under a certain unspecified level of violence. Killing twelve boys in the Golan Heights – that’s the kind of error they want to avoid, as it forces Israel to respond more vigorously to the attacks, and forces them to respond to the response, and could force Israel to reconsider the status quo of harassment.
The downside of the current situation is clear: Hezbollah and Iran are exactly where they want to be. They can harass Israel without the need to worry about grave consequences.
What does Israel really want? I’m going to take a short detour before we conclude.
There are two competing historical narratives describing the actions of King Henry VIII (the one known for his six wives). One presents him as a hedonistic and shallow king, manipulated by advisers, “inept,” torn between competing factions; the other presents him as cunning, as “the motivating force behind all important policies.” Each of them is based on documents and testimonies. Each of them depends, in the end, on the decision of whoever writes the history of Henry VIII’s reign in the 16th century.
Historian Lucy Wooding, whose book on the King I am reading during the 2024 Waiting Period, ruled in favor of the king. That is, she argues that Henry was “making use of factions, rather than factions making use of the king.” Wooding believes that presenting Henry as a puppet of his advisors was mainly due to political or propaganda needs. When he did something unpopular, it was convenient to blame someone else. It’s not his fault — it’s Anne Boleyn’s. It’s not his fault — it’s Thomas Cromwell’s.
You can read this biography and reflect on Benjamin Netanyahu’s image. After all, there are also two similar narratives about his actions and decisions in recent weeks and months. And if I may guess, these two interpretations will continue to resonate in future histories of Israel. The historian of year 2524 is going to have to weigh them. One contends that Netanyahu is the leader whose wishes are decisive, the one who steers the country in the direction he is aiming for. The other contends that the PM is a puppet, manipulated by his much more radical coalition partners, Bezalel Smotrich and Itamar Ben-Gvir. They control him, because of their power to maintain or overthrow the coalition.
The one side contends that Netanyahu is a decisive leader who steers the country in the direction he desires. The other contends the PM is a puppet, manipulated by his much more radical coalition partners, Bezalel Smotrich and Itamar Ben-Gvir.
Does Netanyahu want an end to the war, a hostage deal, a cessation of hostilities? Or does he not want a hostage deal, want to escalate the war, believe that the battle must continue? We know what Netanyahu says, we see what he does, we hear what his coalition partners advise or pressure him to do. But with all this evidence the debate could not be resolved. Much like the case of Henry VIII, there’s Wooding’s argument for Netanyahu as the master of strategic goals, and there’s a competing case for Netanyahu as the puppet of political considerations. Netanyahu’s heart and mind are a black box. None of those who look at him from the outside know for certain what he is thinking, what considerations really motivate him.
Netanyahu’s heart and mind are a black box. None of those who look at him from the outside know for certain what he is thinking, what considerations really motivate him.
Netanyahu’s opponents, his many critics, believe that he is motivated by political reasons. He wants to calm down Ben-Gvir. He wants to prolong the war to postpone elections. He wants to take a position that suits the political “base.” The opponents believe – and this is the harshest verdict a public can reach concerning a leader – that the PM deliberately and mischievously prolongs the war, not for the strategic reasons he keeps voicing, but for purely political reasons.
Of course, Netanyahu’s supporters vehemently disagree with such allegation or conclusion. They see substantive reasons for his actions and decisions. Netanyahu insists on victory, while his opponents are getting ready to cave. Netanyahu resists U.S. pressure to stop short of achieving Israel’s objectives, while his opponents are quick to accept unreasonable demand.
A woman lights a candle at a memorial site for her son on July 17, 2024 in Meflasim, Israel. (Photo by Amir Levy/Getty Images)
It is difficult for both sides to admit that, indeed, there are two types of reasons for doing what the government does. It is difficult for both sides to admit that indeed, there is no way to know which of the two is the decisive one in Netanyahu’s mind. Israelis’ position is determined not by the evidence, but rather according to their predetermined position: those who are suspicious of the PM assume that his main objectives are political. Those who are less suspicious of him accept his strategic arguments.
Israel is kicking the can down the road. The U.S. is kicking it down the road. The world is kicking many cans down the road.
The “can” was Hamas – it was kicked down the road from 2007, when it took over Gaza, to 2024.
The “can” is Hezbollah – it was kicked down the road from the 2006 Lebanon war, to 2024.
The “can” is the Houthis in Yemen, and it is the belligerent, revolutionary, Iran.
Kicking a can down the road tends to be used as a negative description of inaction. Instead of deciding, one kicks the can. Oftentimes, the result is calamity, because problems don’t just disappear when countries and leaders ignore them. Israel decided that Hamas in power could be contained by a mixture of deterrence and bribe. It decided not to launch a costly preventive war to stop Hamas from becoming more powerful. In retrospect it is easy to see that Israel was wrong to make this calculation. But imagine the opposite policy. Imagine Israel deciding, in 2009 or 2016, to go to war whose aim is to uproot Hamas. Would Israelis support it? Would the international community support it? And just remember, this is the same international community that never took the extra step necessary to prevent Iran from having a nuclear weapon. It is the same international community that lets the Houthis terrorize passing cargo ships.
Members of Magen David Adom ambulance services conduct a drill for handling war situations in the north amid cross-border hostilities between Hezbollah and Israeli forces, on July 31, 2024 in Afek, Israel. (Photo by Amir Levy/Getty Images)
Kicking the can has a bad name, but not bad enough to make it disappear as a policy, because it’s convenient for leaders and publics, because it’s easier to sell, because sometimes it does work. Sometimes buying time is the best option one has. And sometimes – if rarely – challenges are indeed resolved by the mere passage of time. Since no one seems to want a war, and until someone decides to risk a war, the noise you hear, it is just an empty can.
Shmuel Rosner is senior political editor. For more analysis of Israeli and international politics, visit Rosner’s Domain at jewishjournal.com/rosnersdomain.
During a few summers in the early 1960’s, my family and I would spend a fun-filled week at an all-inclusive resort in the Catskill Mountains of New York. My mom would pack our suitcases with items ranging from bathing suits to formal wear and everything in between. We loaded up my dad’s Mercury Monterey convertible and we drove the seven-hour long journey from Montreal along the Northway toward the town of Ellenville, New York. Just a mile or two before Ellenville was the beautiful Nevele resort. The entrance was marked with a gigantic archway inscribed with the name of the hotel.
As we drove up to the main entrance, bellhops and car valets were already waiting for us. They unloaded and parked the car and brought our suitcases to our room. All the while, my father was busy peeling off five-dollar bills from his billfold to ensure that all the service people received a proper tip. It didn’t take very long after we checked in for our mother to enroll us in the “Kids Camp.” This way, our parents could spend their vacation lounging at the pool, playing mahjong and enjoying their lavish meals without their annoying offspring hanging around.
The kids had their own club house and their own swimming pool. There were counselors to look after us and plan our social activities. My sister and I were the only Canadians and we had to learn the American pledge of allegiance – I still remember it to this day. We swam, played mini-putt, rode bikes, went on hikes and rehearsed for the weekend talent show.
We had our own dining room, and the food was incredible. For breakfast, there was a choice of a dozen different cereals that were mostly unavailable in Canada, bagels and lox, pancakes with maple syrup, toast, rolls, Danish pastries, and piping hot oatmeal. Lunch was a cornucopia of cold cuts, egg, tuna and salmon salads and hot dishes like spaghetti, lasagna and chicken cutlets.
One day, after a satisfying bowl of spaghetti for lunch, the waiter brought out “Banjo” bars for desert. These were made with vanilla ice cream on a stick covered with a hard chocolate shell. We could eat as many as we wanted, and, well as boys being boys, we decided to have a Banjo-eating contest. I devoured 47 of those delicious treats, but I lost to a guy named Stevie Lesinger from New York City who was able to consume over 50 bars.
Thinking back about those vacations in the Catskills brings back fond memories. A few weeks ago I heard about an event that was taking place in Ellenville on the weekend of July 27. It was called the Borscht Belt Festival – a happening that promised to bring back the feelings of the Catskill Mountain Resorts. The festival promised a street fair with Jewish food including the infamous borscht with sour cream, potato knishes, pastrami sandwiches, pickles, bagels with a shmear and the Brooklyn Egg Cream. The soundtrack was provided by a wonderful live Klezmer band.
The festival also included over 25 shows and conferences beginning with an open-mic night and comprising events like “My Daddy, The Comedian” featuring the children of iconic Borscht Belt comics sharing their personal stories; “Immigrant Jam” – performances by some of New York’s funniest first-generation comics; “The Shtetl Kitchen” – exploring the history of today’s favorite Jewish recipes; an inside look at the making of “Dirty Dancing” featuring veteran New York DJ Cousin Brucie; “Borscht Belt Serenade” – a collection of someof the hits performed by Borscht Belt crooners; and to top things off, “Jackie Mason – The Musical” – the life of comedian Jackie Mason in song.
At the center of the festival stands the Borscht Belt Museum, a permanent tribute to all things Catskills. The museum, situated in the building that was once the Home National Bank (the vault now contains a model of a typical Borscht Belt hotel room) is dedicated to preserving the history of the Borscht Belt as a haven from bigotry, a birthplace for stand-up comedy and “a cultural catalyst that left deep imprints on America.”
At the vortex of the festival stands the Borscht Belt Museum, a permanent tribute to all things Catskills. The museum, situated in the building that was once the Home National Bank (the vault now contains a model of a typical Borscht Belt hotel room) is dedicated to preserving the history of the Borscht Belt as a haven from bigotry, a birthplace for stand-up comedy and “a cultural catalyst that left deep imprints on America.”
The museum contains memorabilia and photos from many of the Borscht Belt hotels. Visitors can watch videos that explain the origin of the Catskills as a Jewish tourist destination. There is a model hotel room and an example of the “bungalow” kitchen. An exhibit aptly titled “And Such Small Portions!” displays the menus from various hotels including Brown’s, The Nevele, Kutcher’s and Grossinger’s. One visitor describes spending Yom Kippur at Grossinger’s – “After the fast ended, there was a complete breakfast with bagels, lox, four types of herring, pancakes, eggs, hot and cold cereal and fruit bowls. A couple of hours later, the hotel served its usual roast beef dinner to a full dining room.”
Visitors to the museum can have their own Catskill stories recorded for posterity in audio or written formats. During our visit we met many couples from New York, New Jersey and Philadelphia who all had wonderful tales about their experiences in the Catskills. By the end of the 1960’s, the Borscht Belt lost its luster as a vacation spot. One of the organizers explained that this was an effect of “The Three A’s – Air Conditioning: People no longer had to escape to the mountains to cool off in the summer; Airplanes: Airfares were becoming more affordable and people could fly to more exotic destinations; and Assimilation: American Jews were becoming a part of mainstream America and no longer felt the need to escape from antisemitism.”
Our accommodation for the festival was a refurbished hotel that sat just next to the Nevele. The entrance still displays the Nevele logo (missing the letter V). How sad it was to see the Nevele grounds, with boarded-up windows, overgrown lawns and abandoned swimming pools. The Borscht Belt Festival, now in its second year, has successfully managed to bring back some of the wonderful nostalgia that was the Catskill Mountains.
Paul J. Starr is a recently retired systems analyst who has lived his entire life in Montréal, Canada. On Sunday mornings he is “living the dream,” hosting a two-hour Internet radio show featuring music from the 50s and 60s called “Judy’s Diner.”
As we witness a dramatic increase in antisemitic sentiment and behavior, shared without inhibition or fear of consequences, we may feel we are living in a once-unimaginable reality. Although this may not surprise those with an awareness of history and Jews who have been affected directly by hate, data demonstrate that many non-Jews fail to identify Jew-hatred in its contemporary forms. The hatred targeting the Jewish community today cannot and should not be addressed only by Jewish advocacy organizations that have a clear mandate to confront Jew-hatred. Especially at a time when all aspects of the Jewish community are being impacted, all Jewish communal leaders have a responsibility to step up and lead.
Recently, 50 executives and senior leaders from across the Jewish Community Center (JCC) Movement attended “Navigating Israel and the Rise of Antisemitism” at Brandeis University. It was an intense four days where we engaged with experts on the subject, heard from practitioners who shared skills and tools necessary to confront Jew-hatred, and created a cohort experience of JCC executives and senior leaders to lead effectively in this moment. The gathering, created from a partnership among Brandeis University, Boundless, and JCC Association of North America, was developed to strengthen our movement’s leadership amidst growing Jew-hatred and anti-Israel sentiment.
JCC Association staff and JCC leaders from across North America did not fly to Boston merely to learn, live in a dorm, and eat cafeteria food. We came to explore important research findings from Boundless, learn to lead effectively in the face of these issues, and facilitate change for our communities and the Jewish people. As JCC professionals, we understand that one antidote to antisemitism is to demonstrate visible, joyful, robust, strong, meaningful, proud and unapologetic connections to Judaism and Zionism. Given the precipitous increase in antisemitism in our communities, we also recognize the need to sharpen this approach.
As JCC professionals, we understand that one antidote to antisemitism is to demonstrate visible, joyful, robust, strong, meaningful, proud and unapologetic connections to Judaism and Zionism. Given the precipitous increase in antisemitism in our communities, we also recognize the need to sharpen this approach.
The JCC Executive Seminar included practical learning, real-life case studies, and 12 world-class scholars and practitioners. They presented us with significant data about how Jews and non-Jews in America understand the ongoing increase in antisemitic sentiment and behavior. For example, Professor Eitan Hersh from Tufts University and Professor Leonard Saxe from the Cohen Center for Modern Jewish Studies at Brandeis highlighted data from their research indicating that most Jewish college students identify “Globalize the Intifada” and “From the River to the Sea” as antisemitic tropes along with the notion that Israel has no right to exist as a Jewish state. Young American Jews generally consider such language and positions to be Jew-hatred.
At the same time, Boundless shared its 2024 study on antisemitism, which focused on non-Jews, particularly 18-to 34-year-olds, and demonstrated that most non-Jews do not identify the aforementioned phrases or ideas as antisemitic and, most importantly, are unclear about why these chants and positions make Jews feel threatened and vulnerable. The data provide a point of reference that is necessary to inform leaders’ understanding in developing interventions and initiatives, both within and beyond the Jewish community. Words and ideas matter, and we must think creatively about how to educate our families, teens, young adults, community leaders and elected officials about these issues. During our time at Brandeis, we gained a better sense of language we can use to educate and promote understanding about Jew-hatred, including both antisemitism and antizionism. Perhaps most important of all, we learned that we must not be afraid to lead with confidence. This is our responsibility.
The JCC Movement is uniquely positioned to meet this moment. As the largest platform for Jewish engagement in North America, JCCs collectively welcome one million Jews and 500,000 people of other faiths (and no faith) to our facilities and online programming each week. Through our camps, early childhood education programs, health and wellness facilities, and partnerships and collaborations with other organizations, JCCs touch a broad spectrum of Jews, many of whom are not affiliated with a synagogue or any other Jewish communal organizations. JCCs are a central address for living Jewishly with pride and joy, and we all have an opportunity — and a responsibility — to truly humanize Jews, Judaism, and the Jewish state among our non-Jewish members and throughout the community at large.
The JCC Executive Seminar introduced a model by which we can strengthen the relationships and information flow of knowledge and insight among funders, researchers, practitioners, and evaluators dedicated to combating antisemitism. An idea is only as good as its implementation, and we are eager to elevate what we learned. We are in a moment in time in which history is being written and in which the Jewish people are counting on us to lead. We have the knowledge, we have the data, we have the skills, and we intend to lead boldly.
Rachel Fish, Ph.D., is special advisor to the Brandeis University Presidential Initiative to Counter Antisemitism in Higher Education and co-founder of Boundless. Daniel Klein is CEO of Jewish Silicon Valley.
House Republicans Question UCSF Over Handling of Antisemitism, Threaten to Revoke Federal Funding
The chairs of three U.S. House committees sent a letter to UC San Francisco (UCSF) on July 31 questioning the university on its handling of antisemitism and threatening to revoke federal funding from the university if it doesn’t ameliorate the situation.
The three House chairs who penned the letter, which was obtained by Jewish Insider, were Committee on Energy and Commerce Chair Rep. Cathy McMorris Rodgers(R-Wash.), Subcommittee on Oversight and Investigations Chair Morgan Griffith (R-Va.) and Subcommittee on Health Chair Rep. Brett Guthrie (R-Ky.). The letter highlighted how at UCSF Health, “patients walking to the medical center see and hear pro-terror and pro-violence statements and symbols, including Hamas symbolism, at the nearby encampment.” Additionally, “there have been numerous antisemitic public statements by faculty, staff, and students at UCSF and/or UCSF Health, such as assertions that patients should fear Jewish doctors, false claims that Israel trains U.S. police to brutalize people of color, or statements that Israelis in the U.S., including students at U.S. universities and medical schools, in service with the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) should be tried for war crimes. At least one medical professional at UCSF Health supported and called for the blockade of the Bay Bridge to protest Israel, which delayed the delivery of multiple organs en route for transplant, endangering the lives of patients.” The letter stated that anti-Israel protests “caused disruption to the learning process for students and faculty, with protestors stealing construction equipment and damaging university property.”
The letter asked the university to repsond to a series of questions on the number of antisemitic complaints they have received and exactly they have done about it. The letter also noted that “failure to respond appropriately to and prevent harassment and discrimination … may be grounds to withhold federal funds from the university and its associated medical centers.”
UW-Milwaukee Suspends 5 Anti-Israel Groups Over Social Media Post
The University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee (UWM) announced on July 31 that five anti-Israel groups have been suspended over a social media post stating that “any organization or entity that supports Israel is not welcome at UWM.”
The July 19 Instagram story in question, which came from the uwm4palestinecoalition, stated in part, per Campus Reform: “We will no longer normalize genocidal extremists walking on our campus. Any organization or entity that supports Israel is not welcome at UWM. This includes the local extremist groups such as Hillel, Jewish Federation, etc.” The university said in their July 31 announcement that the story “included intimidating language aimed at Jewish community members and organizations that support Israel. UWM strongly denounced the post, and any form of antisemitism. A subsequent Instagram post by the coalition reaffirmed their original message.” As such, the university is temporarily suspending “five student organizations associated with a coalition that posted alarming messages on Instagram” and is investigating the matter.
Report Highlights Anti-Israel Radicalism in Teachers Unions
The Jewish Institute for Liberal Values (JILV) released a report detailing anti-Israel radicalism within teachers unions.
According to Jewish Insider (JI), the reported noted that the two largest teachers unions in America passed anti-Israel resolutions at their respective conferences. One resolution denounces “the weaponization of accusations of antisemitism in campaigns to censor dissenting views of the war” and another resolution called the Israeli government’s methods in the ongoing war in the Gaza Strip “unjust,” though it did call the “initial cause” for the war just.
The report also highlighted “the anti-Israel network in teachers unions” in which various “far-left groups” have provided them with resources to use in classrooms.
CUNY Profs Request SCOTUS Take Up Lawsuit Against NY Law Forcing Them to Be Members of Anti-Israel Union
Six professors at the City University of New York (CUNY) are asking the Supreme Court to take up their appeal against a state law requiring them to be members of their union.
The six professors, all but one of whom are Jewish, resigned from the Professional Staff Congress (PSC) union after it had passed a resolution in 2021 denouncing “the continued subjection of Palestinians to the state-supported displacement, occupation, and use of lethal force by Israel.” But under the “Taylor Law” in New York, each of these professors are required to continue paying membership dues to the union regardless. According to The Algemeiner, a state judge ruled against the professors, concluding that past precedent shows that such a law is constitutional.
The National Right to Work and the Fairness Center, which filed the appeal on behalf of the professors, argued in their July 21 petition: “Can the government force Jewish professors to accept the representation of an advocacy group they rightly consider to be antisemitic? The answer plainly should be ‘no.’ The First Amendment protects the rights of individuals, and especially religious dissenters, to disaffiliate themselves from associations and speech they abhor.”
A friend reached out to me last Tuesday evening with a rabbinic question soon after the news broke that Ismail Haniyeh had been killed in an explosion in Tehran: “Is it OK to be happy that he’s dead? Not just relieved but happy?”
And it’s not just the death of the Hamas leader that sparks this question. In the span of just a few days, three terrorists with the blood of tens of thousands of innocents on their hands were killed. In bus bombings, in cafes and at U.S. Marine barracks in Beirut, these men were responsible for unspeakable violence including the murder, rape, torture and kidnappings of October 7.
The classic text on the matter is found in Proverbs 24:17: “Rejoice not when your enemy falls and let your heart not be glad when he stumbles.”
The answer seems clear: Al tismach, rejoice not!
But this teaching seems to be at odds with a Jewish custom that we joyfully encourage even our littlest ones to observe: On Purim we boo with glee every time we hear Haman’s name. We celebrate, often with excessive joy, not only our deliverance but surely also the downfall of our enemies.
The rabbis of the midrash writing 1,500 years ago playfully imagine Haman himself making the case against our rejoicing. When Mordechai seems to delight in our would be persecutor’s humiliation, even using him as a footstool on which to mount his horse, Haman cries out: “What are you doing? Doesn’t your own Torah teach: ‘Rejoice not when your enemy falls?!?’”
Mordechai responds: “That verse doesn’t apply to you.”
When the truly wicked are laid low, we are permitted to rejoice. Normal rules no longer apply.
When the truly wicked are laid low, we are permitted to rejoice. Normal rules no longer apply.
The other classic source is the famous passage in the Talmud about the angels celebrating when Pharaoh’s army is swallowed up in the Sea of Reeds. God rebukes them saying, “The work of My hands is drowning in the sea, and you are reciting a song?”
Wicked and cruel though they were, the Egyptian soldiers were still, for God, ma’asei yadai — “the work of My hands,” God’s children. As a matter of simple justice, they deserved to drown but it wasn’t appropriate for the angels to sing in joy.
Many years ago I came across an extraordinary commentary on this Talmudic passage that poignantly and perfectly captures the way I think many of us are feeling right now. It’s taught in the name of Rabbi Kalonymous Kalman Shapira. He explains why the angels were rebuked while Moses, Miriam and the children of Israel—who, according to the Torah itself, sang and danced at their deliverance—were not.
It all comes down to suffering. Here’s how Rabbi Shapira puts it:
“But were the angels ever subjected to beatings and whippings by the Egyptians? Were any of the angels ever murdered by the Egyptians? Were they humiliated? No. But we were. Therefore, since the Angels did not suffer at the hands of the Egyptians, they weren’t permitted to rejoice. But we did suffer — we suffered greatly — and so when we were redeemed, we sang a song of rejoicing. And Miriam and the women took up their timbrels and sang and danced in joy as the Egyptians drowned in the sea.”
It’s a deep insight. The angels are forbidden to rejoice because it wasn’t personal for them. They didn’t suffer. But the Israelites, our ancestors, did, and so it was permitted for them to sing a happy song even as their enemies drowned before them.
Here’s what you need to know about Rabbi Kalonymous Kalman Shapira. He was the Grand Rabbi of Piaseczno, a town about ten miles south of Warsaw. During World War II, he was interred in the Warsaw Ghetto and worked tirelessly to bring comfort and hope to those who suffered there alongside him. After the ghetto was liquidated, he was sent to the Trawniki Labor Camp where he was murdered in 1943.
He knew all too well what suffering was. He could imagine what it might feel like to see his oppressors stumble and fall, to see them receive the punishment they deserved.
Rabbi Shapira understood that human beings are far from angels. We hurt. We weep. We witness the humiliation and suffering of those we love.
If we were purely righteous, tzadikim g’murim, perhaps we could aspire to be like the angels, above it all.
But we are all too human and when we see the truly wicked among our enemies — those who terrorized us and others, those who planned and executed acts of unspeakable cruelty, those who tore parents from their children and children from their parents — when we see them brought to justice, we can breathe more than a sigh of relief. We can rejoice.
Rabbi Yoshi Zweiback is the Senior Rabbi of Stephen Wise Temple in Los Angeles, California.
