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July 31, 2025

Where ISIS and the UN Converge: A Jewish Reading of “Fundamentally” by Nussaibah Younis

Long preceding the current war, many Jews felt that the United Nations and its satellite agencies trafficked in bias and injustice; the events and discoveries of the last 21 months cemented this feeling. Perhaps then Jewish Journal readers might appreciate “Fundamentally,” the debut novel of Nussaibah Younis, which satirizes a Middle East-based UN agency and its workers. Called UNDO, short for the United Nations Deradicalisation Organisation, the fictional (but realistic) agency aims to rehabilitate ISIS brides through moderate Islam. Younis holds a Ph.D. in International Affairs and designed deradicalization programs for Iraq, and her protagonist, Nadia Amin, a sweary, godless, South Asian, bisexual former Muslim woman, does something very similar.

The novel revolves around Nadia meeting ISIS bride Sara, in whom she believes she’s found an alternate version of herself, a self that, instead of abandoning Islam for drunken hedonism and higher education, was groomed at fifteen, left school and England, got married off to successive ISIS husbands, and ended up in an Iraqi camp cloaked in a niqab. Nadia and Sara share a similar background and sense of humor. But ultimately, there is a question about whether their worldviews can ever be reconciled.

Meanwhile, in the background, there’s the UN. The people who populate the UN base where Nadia lives and works are caricaturesque in nature: Imagine “Emily in Paris” but with Emily played by an actor who is South Asian and a little zaftig, set in Iraq instead of Paris, and in the UN instead of a marketing company. Nadia sleeps with Tom, whose role is to be gorgeous (like Gabriel, Alfie, and Marcello in “Emily in Paris”), listens to quips by gay Pierre (the exact double of Luc in “Emily in Paris”), and gets everything wrong. At the end, we learn that a lot of UN workers and programs get a lot of things wrong, though they are good at covering up their mistakes. Over drinks and MDMA, fictional UN workers laugh over their fictional mess-ups: One set up a peace committee in South Sudan and gave the participants t-shirts to encourage team spirit only to find they were wearing them as militia uniforms when attacking a rival tribe; one established a female empowerment program in Sierra Leone, and all the participants opened brothels; one helped a local NGO obtain food and medicine in Yemen only to learn they had sold their products at a mark-up and went to live in the Algarve with the profits. I added my own not-so-fictional example in the margins: “One ran an aid agency in Gaza, and several personnel were involved in a murderous invasion of Israel, taking civilians hostage, and even detaining them in UN facilities.” Lol?

At the end, we learn that a lot of UN workers and programs get a lot of things wrong, though they are good at covering up their mistakes.

Further mocking the UN and its out-of-touch sensibility, when Nadia proposes UNDO, she is told that programs should be “inclusive of all genders and none, of all faiths and none, and of all sexualities and none.” Although Nadia explains that ISIS is not particularly diverse in its recruitment of women (“people socialised as women,” she’s corrected) and if they weren’t “cisgendered, straight and Muslim,” they would be beheaded, she’s encouraged to still try to be more inclusive. She agrees, but, she says, “don’t expect me to go searching for gay intersex Jews next time we’re in the camp, because, newsflash, there aren’t any there!

These identities—gay, intersex, Jews—are obviously the most impossible, the most heinous, in ISIS, and, it would seem, Iraq (sad to read, especially as the literary market is surging with the legacies of Iraqi Jews, Linda Dangoor’s cookbook, “From the Tigris to the Thames” the most recent). Israel also takes a few hits in the novel. In another painfully glib moment, the Iraqis and UN workers play the classic icebreaker game of “Two Truths and a Lie,” and the minister comes up with what is apparently a hilarious one (a character laughs so hard, tears run down his face): “Palestine, Palestine, Israel.” If Nadia is also laughing, she doesn’t mention it, but she does say that working in the sanitized world of the UN, she feels out of place and wishes she were back among the people in the demonstrations that had always been part of her life: “ever since I was a toddler … [I was] demanding intervention in Chechnya, cheering on the intifada.” UNDO imports a hippy-convert (“revert”) American sheikh to teach moderate Islam to the ISIS brides; when he admits to having vacationed in Tel Aviv, the camp women toilet paper his cabin. And there’s the rub: On this one issue, it would seem that Nadia’s views and those of Sara, the ISIS bride, might not be so incommensurable.

This book will likely cut close to the bone for many Jewish readers, even as it entertains. I am not sure it’s for everyone. I read it with my book club (white, British women, of Christian or no faith), and they found the characters too one-dimensional and unlikable, the story unoriginal (“I already read all about Shamima Begum in the papers!”), and the ending unsurprising. One even took umbrage at the fact that Nadia devours a Milk Tray—a classic big variety box of British chocolates—and then regrets having too many hazelnut swirls (“There are only two in a box of thirty-six!” raged my friend). Personally, I found it funny, even when it was uncomfortable, and very timely.


Karen Skinazi, Ph.D. is Associate Professor of Literature and Culture and the director of Liberal Arts at the University of Bristol (UK) and the author of “Women of Valor: Orthodox Jewish Troll Fighters, Crime Writers, and Rock Stars in Contemporary Literature and Culture.”

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Indie Rocker Alyssa Joseph on Music, Mental Health and Making It on Her Own Terms

“I Wanna Feel Good,” Indie singer Alyssa Joseph’s new single, captures the daily pressure she faces “from society, my unconventional career path and my perfectionism.” she said, describing it as a “‘fake it till you make it’ song about manifesting what I want while navigating how hard it is to get there.”  Her voice carries the grit and raw emotion that made rock legends like Joan Jett iconic, but with a modern indie edge. Like Jett, Joseph delivers her lyrics with fearless intensity, blending vulnerability with strength.

Joseph, who grew up in Voorhees, New Jersey, is the middle of three siblings and attended Temple Beth Sholom. She also founded the South Jersey BBYO chapter, Tovah BBG.

In an interview with Jewish Voice NJ, Joseph shared that her older brother Mitchell’s special needs played a significant role in drawing her to music. Mitchell lives with Familial Dysautonomia, a rare genetic disorder that prevents him from producing tears, sensing pain or temperature, and regulating his blood pressure. “Because of my brother, I know firsthand the impact that music has on people,” she explained.

She recently moved to Nashville in order to pursue her music career. 

The Journal sat down with her for a candid conversation about her journey and the music that fuels it.

How has moving from New Jersey to Nashville influenced your sound and the way you write?

“South Jersey was a lot of coffee-shop open mics, which honestly was a really beautiful way to grow up as a young songwriter. It was such a safe space to try things out, share new songs and listen to better writers, to inspire me to work on my craft. Then I moved to Philly and got into the basement show scene, which was a whole different energy, super raw and DIY, but really fun. And now being in Nashville, it’s really about the songwriting and professionalism, which has definitely sharpened my skills in a new way. Each place has shaped how I write and how I think about music. It’s like I picked up little pieces from every stop along the way.”

“I Wanna Feel Good” feels deeply personal yet widely relatable. Was there a specific moment or experience that sparked it?

“I actually started writing this song a few years ago when I was in a pretty intense cycle of being way too hard on myself. I have this massive drive, but sometimes I forget that it’s not just about the end goal. It’s about actually feeling good while you’re trying to get there. So, this song came from a place of trying to find that balance between wanting more and learning how to enjoy where I am right now, even with all the external and internal pressures to “make it.”

You’ve mentioned that the song reflects the mental gymnastics many women go through just to appear “okay.” Why do you think that pressure still exists so strongly in our culture?

“Yeah, it’s wild to me that we’re still here, but for some reason, women are still treated as inferior. Women constantly need to prove themselves, that they deserve to be there, that they’re capable. That’s been my experience at least, from being a woman and watching the women in my life.

“And if you’re someone who wants kids someday, especially as a woman in music or any entertainment industry, that pressure gets even louder because the window for ‘making it’ feels so much smaller. How many women do you know who had a big break after they had kids? How society views moms is a whole other conversation. It’s exhausting. And I want to talk about it – in spaces like this and in my music.”

This single marks the start of a new creative era for you. What does this new chapter mean to you personally and musically?

“This is definitely the best music I’ve ever made. I started working with Jared Corder (of *repeat repeat) at Polychrome Ranch, and it’s honestly the first time I’ve really let go of some creative control. But working with the right people changes your music, in the best possible way.”

What are some of the biggest lessons you’ve learned trying to build a sustainable career in such a challenging industry?

“Financial sustainability is honestly the biggest lesson that I am still learning. It’s tricky to carve out time for creativity while also making enough money to live and then somehow also having money to invest back into making and releasing music. It’s something I have yet to crack the code on.”

Do you find songwriting to be more of a therapeutic outlet, or a way to reach and support others? 

“When I’m actually writing a song, it’s definitely more of a cathartic thing. It usually starts because I need to get something off my chest. But when it comes to recording and releasing music, that’s when it becomes about connection. I want to be an honest voice that people can relate to, especially around the stuff that tends to make us feel the most alone. That’s really the goal for me: to make music that can sit with people through the hard stuff whether that’s grief, anger, anxiety, heartbreak.”

In a world full of social media filters and “highlight reels,” how do you personally define success as an artist?

“Success is different for everyone. For me, it’s about being able to consistently do the creative work I love and make a living from it – being financially sustainable without losing the joy or authenticity in what I create. It means having the freedom to express myself honestly, even if it’s not always perfect or polished for social media. At the end of the day, success feels like growth, connection, being true to who I am as an artist, and being able to pay all my bills.”

How do your values — like mental health advocacy, veganism and authenticity — shape your creative work?

“A lot of my songs come directly from my own experiences with anxiety and depression, so mental health is definitely a big part of my music. My veganism might not show up explicitly in the lyrics, but it’s there behind the scenes, in the way I approach everything I buy for my craft, always trying to be mindful and sustainable. That value extends to my merch, too. For example, for my song ‘another year,’ I created merch that included seeds from my garden, which ties into my value of sustainability. Gardening has been a big part of my life for the past few years, and it’s really shaped how I think about care, growth, and authenticity in everything I do.”

Indie Rocker Alyssa Joseph on Music, Mental Health and Making It on Her Own Terms Read More »

Faith, Film and Firearms: Mark Feuerstein on Jewish Pride in the Age of Antisemitism

In the new film, “Guns & Moses,” which was recently released, Mark Feuerstein delivers a powerful performance as Rabbi Mo Zaltzman. He lives with his family in a small, peaceful desert town—until one day, his congregation is attacked. The police quickly arrest a young white neo-Nazi who had previously threatened them, but Rabbi Mo isn’t convinced they’ve caught the right person. With no one else willing to dig deeper, he takes matters into his own hands. Forced to confront rising danger, the rabbi arms himself and sets out to protect his community from the real enemy.

Last week, as the first showing of the film at the Laemmle in Encino played to a packed house, Feuerstein sat in the aisle, watching the film with his wife and kids. Not that he minded, of course. There’s no greater pleasure for an actor than seeing a packed theater at their screening. 

“My son kept guessing all the different potential killers and had so much fun with the ‘whodunit’ aspect of the movie,” Feuerstein said. “He really liked it, and so it made me feel so good to watch it with him. The crowd applauded when I had my montage shooting the gun, and then they applauded when I killed the bad guy. It was great and so much fun.”

Feuerstein, who is known for his role in “Royal Pains” and many other TV series and films, sat with The Journal for a conversation about the film and life as a Jew post–Oct. 7.

After receiving the script from his agent, he immediately knew he wanted to play Rabbi Mo. “When you get a script of an indie film, you don’t know what you’re going to get, but then as I was reading it, I was like ‘sign me up.’ How could you not want to play the part of Rabbi Mo? He is a role model, Talmudic scholar, funny, dramatic and he’s an action star.”

He met with director Sal Litvak and his co-screenwriter Nina Litvak in their sukkah — “you know, where all important Hollywood meetings take place — and I expressed how much I enjoyed the script,” he said.

The Litvaks’ inspiration for the story was a shooting that took place at Chabad of Poway, a city that borders the north side of San Diego. The rabbi ran at the shooter — losing a finger in the process — but managed to save the people who came to pray that morning. One person was killed in the attack. The rabbi was hailed as a hero.

“This is what our community believes in,” said Feuerstein. “You don’t think — you act. And I think there’s something very smart about that. You know, yesterday, my son — who became a lifeguard at the Y — saw a seven-year-old girl starting to drown. She was treading water and panicking. He saw the instructor was at the other end of the pool, and without thinking twice he jumped in and grabbed her. Thank God he took action. I’m not saying he was inspired by ‘Guns & Moses,’ but when it was crucial to take action, he did, and I’m proud of him.

“There is a great line in the movie by Rabbi Hillel, who said, ‘In a town where there is no man, be the man.’ That’s the message of this movie, and it’s such a perfect message — especially in our time, when it seems that each group is just looking out for itself and not standing up for our best values.”

Feuerstein had never used a gun before playing this rabbi-turned-action-hero, so for the role, he practiced shooting with Rabbi Yossi Eilfort of Magen Am. After October 7, many in the Jewish community rushed to purchase firearms and enrolled in training sessions, afraid for their security.

Though witnessing the rise in antisemitism in the U.S. hasn’t made him want to own a gun, Feuerstein said he came to realize that Jews need to protect themselves and one another — because no one else will.

“We don’t have as many friends as maybe we thought we had in the world,” said Feuerstein. “I’ve become a bit of an activist — both on my Instagram and at my children’s school — and I take great pride in being Jewish and standing up against any antisemitism wherever it is. Not that I see it on a daily basis, but I see it in the world.”

The actor is deeply involved in both his children’s school and the Jewish community. Feuerstein and his wife, Dana, have three children — Lila, 19; Frisco, 17; and Addie, 15. He said it’s important to him that his kids embrace Jewish values and celebrate Shabbat and the holidays together.

“My kids have all had their bar and bat mitzvahs, my daughter just went on a Birthright trip to Israel, and I hope they go on to live Jewish lives,” Feuerstein said. 

Feuerstein said he’s always taken great pride in Israel. “That we have a homeland, a place where it’s safe to be Jewish,” he said. “I will say and do what I can to ensure that we have a homeland and to support Israel from the diaspora, because I think it’s so important for our people.”

He referenced the story of the St. Louis, the ship carrying Jewish refugees during the Holocaust that was turned away from U.S. shores. “Those people went back to Germany and into Auschwitz and died,” he said. “They didn’t have a place to go.”

The atrocities of Oct. 7, he added, made the need to defend Israel and fight antisemitism even more urgent. “The journey of learning about the truth of Oct. 7 — the violence, the need to defend ourselves, and the need to fight against antisemitism — became very clear to me.”

Today, Feuerstein is working on many projects, including a “Royal Pains” reboot, that will make the fans of the comedy-drama series, which ran from (2009-2016) very excited. He is also writing a show for HBO, working on a comedy, “Hollywood Dog Park,” and more. 

Since Oct. 7, Feuerstein has also taken on a new habit: wearing a Magen David around his neck — something he didn’t used to do. 

“There’s a history of assimilation in this country,” he said. “Even the great Jews who founded Hollywood weren’t necessarily religious. They found ways to join country clubs and live the kind of American life that everyone else had. But it can go too far — where we dilute the population and identity of Jews in America.”

He reflected on how quickly support for Jews can fade in moments of crisis, and how that realization has deepened his connection to his roots. 

“When you see just how easily our popularity and our support can wane — when you realize that we can’t necessarily count on the people we thought we could — you start to think differently. We have to make sure we take care of our own and protect and honor this identity that I’m so proud of.”

For Feuerstein, that identity includes everything from the values of the Torah to Jewish food, humor, and intellectual tradition — but especially the spiritual dimension. 

“Wearing a Jewish star on my neck is a way to honor that,” he said. “It’s my way of saying I won’t be the Jew who holds his head down and tries to pass. I’m a Jew — and I’m proud of it.”

Faith, Film and Firearms: Mark Feuerstein on Jewish Pride in the Age of Antisemitism Read More »

OBKLA Marks Milestone, Huckabee Visits Israel, ‘Guns and Moses’ Opens at Laemmle

Our Big Kitchen Los Angeles (OBKLA) celebrated a major milestone: its 1,000th community cooking session. Held at the organization’s Pico Boulevard kitchen, the evening brought together adult volunteers for a night of service, connection, and celebration, all while preparing 1,000 kosher meals for those in Los Angeles experiencing food insecurity.

The session kicked off with opening remarks from Executive Director Yossi Segelman.

“When you signed up today, you thought it was just going to be a regular session. But what you probably didn’t know is that today, it’s our 1,000th session—and we’re going to be making 1,000 meals,” he told the crowd during the July 23 gathering.

OBKLA volunteers. Courtesy of Our Big Kitchen Los Angeles

Volunteers suited up in aprons, hats or hairnets, and gloves before getting to work. The kitchen was divided into two teams: one shaping trays of seasoned meat into meatballs, the other chopping fresh vegetables including bell peppers, carrots, and zucchini. Upbeat music and a cocktail bar set a festive tone, with gold “1,000” balloons floating to celebrate.

Throughout the evening, the room buzzed with laughter, conversation, and a shared sense of purpose. Whether people came together or met for the first time in the facility, there was a strong sense of community with everyone working side by side. Once the food was prepared, volunteers carefully packaged each meal in plastic containers, hand placing every sticker and adding a personal touch to every box.

“I am grateful for each of you who allows us to change the way that people are fed, to be fed with dignity. And because of you, over 1,000 people will be eating” Chani Lazaroff, program leader at OBKLA, said.

Before the night ended, Segelman shared the story of OBKLA’s beginnings: him, his wife Chaya, and a handful of volunteers packing and delivering meals by hand. At the end, he personally thanked each team member and ambassador by name and all of the volunteers for being part of the journey. He surprised the room by bringing out a celebratory “1,000” vanilla strawberry cake, met with cheers and applause as a perfect end to the celebration.


Rabbi Dovid Hofstedter of Dirshu and U.S. Ambassador to Israel Mike Huckabee. Courtesy of RocketshipPR

U.S. Ambassador to Israel Mike Huckabee recently met face-to-face with the heads of the Moetzes Gedolei HaTorah in Bnei Brak, a rabbinical policy-making council based in one of the centers of the Haredi movement. Those who organized the meeting described it as “unprecedented spiritual diplomacy” as Huckabee “stepped into the heart of Israel’s Torah world.”

Rabbi Dovid Hofstedter of Dirshu, an Orthodox Jewish organization that aims to strengthen Torah study, orchestrated the visit, which offered a glimpse into how American conservatives are standing with Torah leadership in a new way. Hofsteter, based in Toronto, is the founder of a real estate investment and property management firm. He’s the son of Holocaust survivors.

Huckabee, a longstanding supporter of the State of Israel, formerly served as the governor of Arkansas and is a former presidential candidate who ran in the Republican primary. He was nominated by President Trump to be ambassador to Israel, and he has served in the role since April.


Actor Mark Feuerstein (second from right) speaks at the Q&A following a screening of “Guns and Moses” at the Laemmle in Encino. Photo by Matthew Deere

“Guns and Moses,” a new action-thriller from writer-director Sal Litvak, enjoyed a successful opening weekend at the Laemmle in Encino, beginning July 18.

Litvak, a regular contributor at the Journal, co-wrote the film — his third feature-length movie — with his wife, Nina. The two set out to make the film following the deadly shooting at the Chabad of Poway in April 2019 and sought to depict Jews different from typical Jewish characters onscreen. On July 20, following each of the screenings at the Laemmle, the two participated in Q&As about the film along with actors Mila and JuJu Brener, real-life sisters who portray sisters in the film.

The film, which premiered at the Los Angeles Jewish Film Festival last year, follows a gunslinging rabbi who seeks out the truth following the deadly shooting of one of his congregants. Actors Mark Feuerstein, Christopher Lloyd, Neal McDonough, and Alona Tal co-star.

OBKLA Marks Milestone, Huckabee Visits Israel, ‘Guns and Moses’ Opens at Laemmle Read More »

The Shadow of Babi Yar: How the Soviets Taught the West to Erase the Jews

In the 1944 official report of the Extraordinary State Commission on Babi Yar—the site of a Holocaust massacre of Jews—Soviet documents stated that “the Hitlerist butchers marched them to Babi Yar, took away their belongings, and shot them.” Although it was widely understood that “them” meant Jews, the wording reflects a deliberate, state-sponsored effort to obscure the identity of the Holocaust’s primary victims. Soviet-Russian poet Yevgeny Yevtushenko confronted this absence in his 1962 poem Babi Yar, opening with the line “No monument stands over Babi Yar”—a statement that both acknowledged the obvious and exposed the regime’s intentional distortion of Holocaust memory. Even when a state monument was finally erected in 1976 at Babi Yar, the inscription honored the “peaceful Soviet people,” thus continuing the systemic erasure of Jews from historical memory.

And though the Soviets played a central role in defeating fascism and winning the Second World War, the government turned vehemently against its own Jews in a sophisticated antizionism campaign that now finds renewed life in the West, and more disturbingly, within a discipline whose aim is to “champion justice and excellence in public education:” the discipline of teaching. What then does the national teachers’ union in 2025 that represents over 3 million public school teachers, staff, and faculty at colleges and universities, have in common with a brutal country that no longer exists? Everything it seems, as this week the National Education Association (NEA) published a 2025 handbook for teachers with resources on the Holocaust. 

The Babi Yar Massacre, World War II, Poland, 1941 (Photo by Hulton Archive/Getty Images).

Describing the Holocaust as having “12 million victims from different faiths, genders, and religions,” the NEA faultlessly repeated a tactic of erasure and inversion practiced in the Soviet Union. Indeed, the Soviet genealogy of this type of Holocaust perversion reveals how on the political left, unlike the political right, the Holocaust is not denied but rather purged from reference to Jews. Because the NEA’s framing of the Holocaust is not a misstep but the echo of a Soviet blueprint, it is also the reason why antizionism, a Soviet invention, thrives in left-wing spaces, and why in the 2025 handbook the NEA “will use existing digital communication tools to educate members about the difference between anti-Zionism and antisemitism.”  

Describing the Holocaust as having “12 million victims from different faiths, genders, and religions,” the National Education Association faultlessly repeated a tactic of erasure and inversion practiced in the Soviet Union.

Although this destructive Holocaust education material was eventually scrubbed from NEA’s official website, understanding why and how the Soviets turned against their Jewish population in the immediate postwar years sheds light on current and emerging patterns of Jew-hatred within left-wing spaces. The first question we must ask, therefore, is why did the Soviets turn on their Jews so soon after the Holocaust? Given the global backlash against Jews following Hamas’ brutal massacre and kidnappings on October 7, this question feels less perplexing today. While there is never a justification for inciting hatred, especially against a people who have just suffered immense trauma, the history of Soviet antisemitism—antizionism—offers critical insight into what we are witnessing today in our educational institutions.

The history of postwar Jew-hatred in the Soviet Union drew not only on longstanding antisemitic attitudes among the Russian-speaking population, but more significantly, on a combination of Joseph Stalin’s paranoia and the Soviet Union’s growing anti-Western and anti-American campaign. Regardless of which factor played the dominant role, one thing is certain: postwar antisemitism had to be concealed and carefully repackaged. After all, it would be difficult to openly attack a people who had just emerged from gas chambers, ovens, and mass shooting fields of the Holocaust. To do so required crafting a campaign that bore no resemblance to medieval or Nazi antisemitism, but instead took the form of a political struggle framed as a defense of a higher cause—namely, the preservation of Soviet Marxism, Stalinism, and, after 1967, the protection of Soviet geopolitical power. Because at its core, Jew-hatred is not simply about viewing Jews as the “other,” but as the mega-villain—an obstacle to one’s own pursuit of moral righteousness.This is what makes it both seductive and so difficult to eradicate. 

Soviet antizionism, which began with erasing Jews from Holocaust memory, paved the way for one of the most pernicious lies: that Zionists are Nazis. Understanding that accusing Jews of being Nazis would not only be poorly received but ultimately self-defeating, Soviet propaganda masters shifted the terminology from “Jew” to “Zionist,” and reframed their accusation—branding Zionists as fascists instead. A reproduction of a 1970 poster, titled “Zionism is the Fascism Today,” depicts a swastika sign consisting of an Israeli general with bomb and ax, chopping up Arabs in lockstep with the skeleton of Hitler.

Indeed, the equation of Zionism with fascism was a frequent leitmotif in official Soviet media. Articles such as Vladimir Bolshakov’s “Fascism and Zionism: the Roots of Kinship” which appeared in a January 1984 issue of Pravda provided the necessary imprimatur to enact a libelous campaign against the Jewish people. 

Critically, what Soviet antizionism teaches us is that erasure of Jews from the Holocaust is the necessary precondition to then turn against Jews by accusing them of the very crimes committed against them. And this, of course, is exactly what has already been unfolding in higher education and on our streets: accusing Israel of Nazi crimes. 

But today’s antizionists in the West have outdone their Soviet progenitors as they not only repeat the lies and libels in order to demonize Jews and Israel, but divorce antizionism from antisemitism. In fact, the NEA’s teachers’ resource, the very same document that erased Jews as the primary victims of the Nazi genocide, included a paragraph in which NEA “will be using existing… tools to educate members about the difference between anti-Zionism and antisemitism.” This tactic of disconnecting Zionism from Judaism is another form of erasure: erasing Jewish collective memory for the Jewish people have, for centuries, longed to return to Zion, Israel. 

And like erasing Jews from the Holocaust is the necessary perquisite to then wage the accusation of genocide and Nazism against Zionism and Israel, so too divorcing Zionism from Judaism is a key ingredient to not only providing legitimacy to the argument that antizionism is not antisemitism but continuing to practice institutional Jew-hatred. This the Soviets did not do perhaps because, unlike antizionists in the West, they felt no need to convince their citizens that they weren’t anti-Jewish. To be sure, no one in the Soviet Union wondered whether antizionism was antisemitism. Everyone knew. 

Nothing is sacred anymore. If before we could not believe that Israel was being erased on world maps and replaced by Palestine instead of “Israel,” now the Jew is being erased from the Holocaust itself. But it makes sense. The reason the NEA is able to erase Jews from the Holocaust is that, for the past two decades, if not more, there has been a concerted effort to demonize Jews. It does not, of course, begin with demonization. It begins with lies, libels, and erasure, all of which leads to demonization. This final step, the stage of demonizing, allows the world to dispense with the Jew—to do unto the Jewish people what you accuse them of doing. And make no mistake about it: the final stage, always, is annihilation. 

How to fight a hatred crafted by a regime that no longer exists? Significantly, when the Soviet Union collapsed, the phantom legs of antizionism likewise disappeared, thus proving that this hatred largely depends on certain conditions. What are these conditions? As I have written elsewhere, antizionism thrives in left-wing spaces and discourse. To effectively counter antizionism, a two-pronged strategy is essential. First, directly challenge the intellectual foundations that sustain it—namely the Frankfurt School, post-colonial theory, and spaces that elevate intersectional identity as the primary mode of existing. Second, reject the impulse to apologize for Jewish power. 

These two components are deeply interconnected. While the ideological left often demonizes power and casts Zionists as its ultimate embodiment, capitulating to this framework only reinforces its premises. We must not be ashamed of Israel’s strength. Yes, Israel is a military and economic superpower in the Middle East. Yes, it possesses a functioning state and a standing army, while the Palestinian Arabs do not. Attempts to recast Israel as an underdog—through rhetoric such as “Jews of color” or “Israel is made up of brown Jews”—fail because they operate within the same victimhood paradigm that antizionism exploits. Appeasing that narrative only strengthens it.


Naya Lekht is currently the Education Editor for White Rose Magazine and a Research Fellow for the Institute for Institute for the Study of Global Antisemitism and Policy. 

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