Uncategorized
An app that can generate 64,000 kosher cheesecake recipes aims to prove AI’s value for Orthodox Jews
(JTA) — Sara Goldstein’s regular cheesecake recipe is like the rest of the kosher food she makes and shares on her Instagram account — “straightforward, and I wouldn’t say too adventurous.”
But she tried something special this year ahead of Shavuot, a Jewish holiday that begins Thursday night, when dairy foods are traditionally on the menu. In honor of the holiday, she whipped up a bourbon caramel cheesecake, with candied pecans on top.
Goldstein’s baking shakeup was spurred by an online tool that, using artificial intelligence, allows users to mix and match ingredients that can be made into more than 64,000 different cheesecake recipes. For Goldstein, a chef and kosher recipe developer who lives in Lakewood, New Jersey, CheesecakeWizard.AI offers a welcome challenge.
“You have to be extra creative in the kosher world because it’s very limited,” she said. “And I think it definitely opened people’s eyes to what’s possible. I mean, saying there’s 64,000 combinations that are kosher — it’s really, really cool.”
The app’s creator, Brooklyn marketing executive Avi Bree, doesn’t just want to push the bounds of what gets served on Shavuot tables. He’s also looking to prove to clients his value in a world of AI-generated press releases — and to show his fellow Orthodox Jews that ChatGPT and other AI tools can be a boon to Jewish observance, not a threat, despite concerns about internet use in his community.
“Not everybody who is going to go to this website is actually going to actually bake the cheesecake,” Bree said. “They’ll futz around with it, and they’ll push a couple buttons and it’ll make us all meshuggeneh trying to come up with the craziest flavor.… While they’re doing it, the company that’s sponsoring it, their logo and their name is there.”
The app asks users to select their crust, filling and topping preferences, then uses artificial intelligence to spit out a recipe to match. An image integration feature called Midjourney allows users to see computer-generated pictures of what their cheesecakes might look like — from carrot-cake crusts to maple and sweet potato filling to savory toppings such as an olive tapenade.
Since its launch last week, Cheesecake Wizard has been used by about 12,000 people to generate 45,000 recipes — though it remains to be seen how many actual cheesecakes result. Bree said that like Goldstein, he had been drawn to the “boozy options” in the Cheesecake Wizard interface and hoped that when the holiday begins Thursday night, he’ll get a chance to partake.
“After a very long week of work, I’d like to sit down on Shavuos eating cheesecake, and having a splash of bourbon on top would definitely, you know, add a little more enjoyment to the holiday festivities,” he said.
Bree’s experiment with AI started last spring, when clients began to drop him because, they said, they could use the new technology to create their marketing materials instead. He decided to explore the new terrain. Passover was approaching, and Bree’s first venture was a day-trip generator, inspired by the hassle Orthodox families can face when deciding what to do in the middle of the weeklong holiday, when Jewish schools and workplaces are closed.
Avi Bree created a cheesecake AI generator to show his Orthodox community the value of AI. (Courtesy Bree)
CanWeGoNow launched on the first day of chol hamoed, the period of the holiday when travel is allowed, and quickly crashed as the link ricocheted across WhatsApp groups that are the primary form of communication for many Orthodox Jews. Bree called his wife from synagogue and said he needed to scrap their own family’s plan to take their six children to an amusement park. He had to spend the time getting the site back up.
“I said, ‘Pessel, the bottom line is I stepped into something that might be amazing,’” he recalled. “I generally don’t work on chol hamoed, but if there’s a loss involved, the rabbinical leaders say you can work. So I said, ‘If I don’t take care of this, the whole thing’s going to fold.’”
Ultimately, 20,000 people generated tens of thousands of trip ideas in the United States, Israel, England, Australia and even Mexico, where hundreds of people at a kosher-for-Passover hotel got wind of the app.
Bree lost money on the venture, but he gained confidence that AI could catch on in his community, despite some of his Orthodox peers’ ambivalence toward new technologies. Now, he has relaunched his marketing firm to focus squarely on using AI to reach Orthodox audiences. (Its name, MarketAIng, makes the gambit visible.)
“The Jewish community is always a little bit behind, let’s just face it,” he said. “Our tradition is what kept us going all these thousands of years, so anytime something new comes into the picture, we’re always a little more wary and always a little more concerned. So AI really hasn’t made inroads yet.”
Bree’s latest effort hit a turning point while he was in synagogue, which he referred to as “a mini-networking event” that he attends three times a day for prayers. A self-described ultra-Orthodox Jew, he had been casting about for a kosher corporate partner for the cheesecake bot. An acquaintance named Akiva overheard him lamenting his lack of connections to a fellow worshiper after evening services.
Akiva said his wife worked for a kosher dairy-products company called Norman’s. A few WhatsApp messages later, Bree was in touch with executives there — and now the company’s name and logo appear on the website, and its products are inserted into the cheesecake recipes that the tool generates. Goldstein has also promoted the company on her social media posts about Cheesecake Wizard.
The sell wasn’t totally straightforward, Bree said. An executive “was a little bit nervous because of the internet aspect,” he recalled. “Right now in the Jewish community, it’s a weird sort of policy we have, like, we don’t encourage you to use it but if you’re going to use it, have a filter on it.”
Indeed, internet use has been a fraught topic in haredi Orthodox communities, with rabbis warning that online access can be a gateway to inappropriate content that conflicts with and diverts attention from Jewish practice.
Some Orthodox leaders have urged Jews to reject the internet entirely. In 2012, a rally warning of the dangers of the web drew more than 40,000 men to Citi Field in New York; last year, two massive rallies for women urged them to delete their social media profiles and give up their smartphones.
With the abrupt arrival of consumer-facing AI in recent months, the technology has drawn specific attention from some rabbinic leaders for the first time. Last month, a dozen rabbis from the traditionalist Skver Hasidic community, based in New Square, New York, explicitly banned its use.
“It is possible that at this point, not everyone knows the magnitude and scope of the danger, but it has become clear to us in our souls that this thing will be a trap for all of us, young and old,” the rabbis wrote in their decree last month. “Therefore, the use of ‘AI’ is strictly prohibited in any shape and form, even by phone.”
Despite these warnings, many haredi Orthodox Jews use the internet for work, shopping and other activities. But in some communities, users are expected to install “kosher” filters that block content considered inappropriate, and many Orthodox yeshivas require parents to install filters as a condition of enrollment. Bree said his own children’s Brooklyn yeshiva required a phone filter, which he installed, and that he made sure to construct his apps so that they would function on phones whose function is limited to WhatsApp and basic communication tools.
He also said that while Norman’s was persuaded to move forward with the cheesecake app because it had its own website, he was considering adding a disclaimer.
“We might have to actually make a little statement on the website saying something along the lines of, you know, ‘Please abide by your rabbinical guidelines regarding internet use,’” Bree said. “Because people were saying, ‘Oh, what are you pushing internet for?’ We’re not pushing it. If you’re using it anyways, then you could use this.”
Goldstein said she wasn’t sure she would become a regular AI user but thought that Cheesecake Wizard, for which she posted an instructional video for her followers on Wednesday, was a comfortable entry point for her community. “I definitely think it’ll take people a little while, maybe, to warm up to the concept, but it’s a great way to introduce it,” she said.
In her heavily Orthodox town of Lakewood, Goldstein said a wide range of internet uses are tolerated — and that she sees a value in remaining online.
“I’m not telling people to come start using Instagram, start using AI — it’s if you’re here [and] it’s where you’re at, then this is a fun way to make something amazing, to elevate something for chag,” Goldstein said, using the Hebrew word meaning holiday. “For people who are already out there on the internet — whether you need it for work, or just, you’re not at that place yet to completely eradicate internet from your life — here’s a way to take these tools and do something even spiritual with it.”
—
The post An app that can generate 64,000 kosher cheesecake recipes aims to prove AI’s value for Orthodox Jews appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Uncategorized
Was playwright Avrom Goldfaden a Zionist?
זינט די סאַמע ערשטע יאָרן פֿון דער ציוניסטישער באַװעגונג איז דער טעאַטער געװען אַ װיכטיקער מיטל פֿאַרן פֿאַרשפּרײטן אירע אידעען. מען האָט פֿאָרגעשטעלט אױף דער בינע סײַ די ייִדישע פּראָבלעמען — אַזעלכע װי אַנטיסעמיטיזם, דלות, שלעכטע מידות — סײַ די לײזונג: אַ ייִדישע מדינה. צװישן די דראַמאַטורגן זײַנען געװען די אָבֿות פֿונעם פּאָליטישן ציוניזם, אַזעלכע װי טעאָדאָר הערצל און מאַקס נאָרדױ.
אַבֿרהם גאָלדפֿאַדן (1840־1908), דער „פֿאָטער פֿונעם ייִדישן טעאַטער“, איז ניט געװען קײן פּאָליטישער דענקער. בײַ אים איז דער טעאַטער געװען אַן אָרט, װוּ אַ ייִד „זאָל האָבן װוּהין צו אַנטלױפֿן אױף עטלעכע שטונדן פֿון זײַנע ביטערע דאגות, װאָס פֿאַרפֿאָלגן אים אַ גאַנצן טאָג.“ דערפֿאַר, זאָגט ער װײַטער, „איז געװען שטענדיק מײַן פּלאַן צו פֿאַרפֿאַסן נאָר קאָמישעס מיט געזאַנג און טאַנץ, װאָס ס׳הײסט אָפּערעטע.“
אָבער אין דער אמתן זײַנען װײַט ניט אַלע פּיעסעס זײַנע געװען קאָמיש און לײַכטזיניק. װי עס באַװײַזט די דײַטשישע פֿאָרשערין מעלאַניע דאָריס ליקאַס (אוניװערסיטעט פֿון געטינגען) אין איר בוך „דער ייִדישער טעאַטער צװישן ציוניזם און ייִדישער אַסימילאַציע אַרום 1900“, איז דער ייִדישער טעאַטער געװען „אַ שפּיגל פֿון יענער צײַט“. אין זײַנע דראַמאַטישע װערק האָט גאָלדפֿאַדן באַהאַנדלט די װיכטיקסטע סאָציאַלע און פּאָליטישע פּראָבלעמען פֿון ייִדישן קיום אױפֿן שװעל פֿונעם צװאַנציקסטן יאָרהונדערט.
כּדי צו אַנטפּלעקן געזעלשאַפֿטלעכע און פּאָליטישע טענדענצן אין גאָלדפֿאַדנס שאַפֿונג מאַכט לוקאַס אַ פּרטימדיקן אַנאַליז פֿון די טעקסטן. זי באַטראַכט ניט נאָר די באַקאַנטע װערק װי „שולמית“, „בר־כּוכבא“ און „משיחס צײַטן“, נאָר אױך דאָס לעצטע װערק זײַנס, „בן עמי“ (1906), װאָס איז אױפֿגעפֿירט געװאָרן אין ניו־יאָרק. דער טעקסט איז קײן מאָל ניט געדרוקט געװאָרן אָבער אַ כּתבֿ־יד האָט זיך אָפּגעהיט אין ייִװאָ.
גאָלדפֿאַדן האָט באַשריבן „בן עמי“ װי אַ „נאַציאָנאַל־פּאַטריאָטישע מוזיקאַלישע דראַמע“, װאָס איז „ספּעציעל געשריבן געװאָרן פֿאַר מײַן ייִדישן פֿאָלק“. די פּיעסע ברענגט צונױף די פּראָבלעמען פֿון יענער צײַט: רעװאָלוציע און פּאָגראָמען אין רוסלאַנד, אַסימילאַציע, שמד, עקאָנאָמישע סתּירות. זײ װערן פֿאָרגעשטעלט דורך ליבע־באַציִונגען, משפּחה־קאָנפֿליקטן און פּאָליטישע װיכּוחים.
װי עס איז טיפּיש פֿאַר גאָלדפֿאַדן, װערן רעאַליסטישע געשעענישן געמישט מיט ראָמאַנטישע פֿאַנטאַזיעס: אַ גוטהאַרציקער קריסטלעכער באַראָן, װאָס האָט געראַטעװעט אַ ייִדיש מײדל רחלע פֿון אַ פּאָגראָם, האָט זיך אַנטפּלעקט װי אַ געהײמער ייִד. דער סוף איז גוט, דער באַראָן האָט חתונה מיט רחלען, און די אַסימילירטע העלדן טוען תּשובֿה.
דער תּמצית פֿון דער פּיעסע װערט אױסגעדריקט אַלעגאָריש אין אַ ליד אינעם פּראָלאָג. אַן אַלמנה זיצט „בײַ דער כּותל־מערבֿי אין גאַנץ טיפֿן טרױער“ װעגן דעם ביטערן מצבֿ פֿונעם ייִדישן פֿאָלק. זי װערט געטרײסט דורכן כאָר, װאָס זאָגט צו, אַז אָט־אָט, וועלן די קינדער אירע „אַלע צוזאַמען /קומען צו דער מאַמען / זי זען אין אַמאָלעדיקער פּראַכט.“ אַזױ, האַלט לוקאַס, מאַכט גאָלדפֿאַדן קלאָר די אידעע פֿון זײַן דראַמע: ייִדן װעלן זיך אומקערן קײן ארץ־ישׂראל און אױפֿבױען דעם נײַעם בית־המקדש.
די געשטאַלט פֿון דער אַלמנה בת ציון, װאָס זיצט „אין דעם בית־המקדש / אין אַ װינקל חדר“ געפֿינט מען שױן אין „שולמית“ אינעם באַרימטן ליד „ראָזשינקעס מיט מאַנדלען“. דאָרט איז דאָס אַן אַלעגאָריע פֿונעם ייִדישן פֿאָלק װאָס בענקט נאָך זײער הײמלאַנד. אין „בן עמי“ איז דאָס פֿאָלק שױן גרײט אַראָפּצוברענגען די גאולה.
עס איז טשיקאַװע צו לײענען װי גאָלדפֿאַדנס אַ פּערסאָנאַזש אין דער פּיעסע האָט זיך פֿאָרגעשטעלט דאָס אומקערן פֿון ייִדן אין ארץ־ישׂראל. דאָס װעט פֿאָרקומען „דורך רעװאָלוציאָן אין אַ גינסטיקער צײַט און געלעגנהײט“. די דאָזיקע רעװאָלוציע דאַרף זיך אָנהײבן אין דער טערקישער אימפּעריע, „װען די טערקישע געבילדעטע יוגנט װעלן זיך רעװאָלטירן אַראָפּצוּװאַרפֿן פֿון זיך דעם דעספּאָטישן יאָך“.
דעמאָלט װעט די ייִדישע יוגנט אין ארץ־ישׂראל „אױך קענען אױפֿהײבן די פֿרײַהײט־פֿאָן און מיט װאָפֿן אין די הענט אַרױספֿאָדערן זײער גערעכטלעכע הײמאַט [היימלאַנד].“ די ייִדן אין אַנדערע לענדער דאַרפֿן דערבײַ „בלײַבן טרױ זײערע רעגירונגען“, אָבער „שטײן פֿאַרטיק בײַם ערשטן סיגנאַל פֿון דאָרטן זיך אָפּרופֿן מיט מאַטעריעלער און פֿיזישער הילף, זײ צו שיקן געלט און אײגענע סטראַטעגיקער, װאָס האָבן גענאָסן זײער בילדונג אין ציװיליזירטע לענדער און דאַן — איז דער זיג געװוּנען.“ װי אין אַנדערע ציוניסטישע פּראָיעקטן פֿון יענער צײַט, װערט די אַראַבישע באַפֿעלקערונג ניט דערמאָנט.
להיפּוך צו גאָלדפֿאַדן, האָבן די דײַטשיש־שפּראַכיקע ציוניסטישע מחברים טעאָדאָר הערצל און מאַקס נאָרדױ ניט קײן אינטערעס צו ארץ־ישׂראל. זײער דאגה איז דער אַנטיסעמיטיזם, װאָס לאָזט ייִדן ניט אינטעגרירן זיך אין דער מאָדערנער געזעלשאַפֿט אין דײַטשלאַנד און עסטרײַך. דער קאָנפֿליקט צװישן ייִדן און קריסטן אין הערצלס דראַמע „דאָס נײַע געטאָ“ (1895) שפּילט זיך אַרום עקאָנאָמישע און סאָציאַלע ענינים.
הערצל װײַזט, אַז אַפֿילו װען ייִדישע געשעפֿטסלײַט באַמיִען זיך צו פֿאַרבעסערן די עקאָנאָמישע לאַגע פֿון קריסטלעכע אַרבעטער, װערן זײ סײַ װי ניט באַהאַנדלט װי גלײַכע מיט די קריסטן. ניט געקוקט אױף דער קולטורעלע אַסימילאַציע און דעם עקאָנאָמישן דערפֿאָלג געפֿינט זיך די ייִדישע בורזשואַזיע אין אַ נײַעם געטאָ מחוץ דער קריסטלעכער געזעלשאַפֿט. סימבאָליש װערט דאָס פֿאָרגעשטעלט דורך אַ דועל, אין װעלכן אַ ייִד װערט פֿאַרװוּנדעט דורך אַ קריסט.
אַן ענלעכע פּראָבלעם װערט פֿאָרגעשטעלט אין נאָרדױס דראַמע „דאָקטער קאָן“ (1899). דער העלד איז אַ באַגאַבטער מאַטעמאַטיקער, װאָס װיל באַקומען אַ פּראָפֿעסאָר־שטעלע כּדי צו מעגן חתונה האָבן מיט אַ פֿרױ פֿון אַ פֿאַרמעגלעכער קריסטלעכער משפּחה.
אָבער די אַנטיסעמיטישע אַדמיניסטראַציע פֿונעם אוניװערסיטעט גיט אים ניט קײן שטעלע, און די משפּחה װיל אים ניט האָבן פֿאַר אַן אײדעם. װי אין הערצלס פּיעסע פֿירט דער קאָנפֿליקט צו אַ דועל, דאָס מאָל צװישן קאָן און דער פֿרױס ברודער. קאָן װערט שװער פֿאַרװוּנדעט און שטאַרבט.
הערצל און נאָרדױ זײַנען בײדע געװען די פֿירנדיקע ציוניסטישע פּאָליטיקער פֿון יענער צײַט, אָבער אין זײערע דראַמאַטישע װערק איז ניטאָ קײן שפּור פֿון אַ פּלאַן צו האָבן אַ ייִדישע מלוכה, שױן אָפּגערעדט פֿון װידער אױפֿבױען דעם בית־המקדש. אין זײערע פּיעסעס האָבן די מאָראַלישע קאָנפֿליקט און סאָציאַלע פּראָבלעמען פֿון ייִדן אין דער קריסטלעכער געזעלשאַפֿט ניט קײן לײזונג.
לוקאַסעס פּרטימדיקער פֿאַרגלײַכיקער אַנאַליז אַנטפּלעקט דעם װיכטיקסטן חילוק צװישן גאָלדפֿאַדן און די דײַטשיש־שפּראַכיקע מחברים. גאָלדפֿאַדן האָט זיך געװענדט צו דעם ייִדישן עולם און געקענט קונציק צופּאַסן ערנסטע פּאָליטישע טעמעס צום לײַכטן סטיל פֿון זײַן באַליבטן זשאַנער פֿון אָפּערעטע. הערצל און נאָרדױ האָבן געשריבן פֿאַרן ברײטערן דײַטשישן עולם, װאָס האָט ניט געהאַט קײן אינטערעס צו דער ציוניסטישער פּאָליטיק. די פּראָבלעם פֿון זײערע העלדן איז געװען אַנטיסעמיטיזם, ניט דאָס אױפֿבױען אַ ייִדישע מלוכה.
The post Was playwright Avrom Goldfaden a Zionist? appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
Forever curious, never daunted, Frederick Wiseman sought to repair the world through film
Frederick Wiseman, whose 60-year project of quietly asking America to look at itself — without sermon or embellishment, yet wielding the camera with an ethical ferocity‚ has died at the age of 96. Wiseman was a documentarian par excellence, but — as his year-long 2010 MOMA retrospective and his winter-long 2025 Lincoln Center appreciation show — he was more than a filmmaker and more dynamic than the institutions he critiqued. The 45 films he made between 1967 and 2023 embody the very process of American self-reflection.
Born Jan. 1, 1930, in Boston, Mass., Wiseman grew up in a Jewish household that never made a big show of its Jewishness, yet never let it slip from mind. His father, Jacob Leo Wiseman, was an accomplished lawyer; his mother, Gertrude Leah Kotzen, had a number of jobs but Wiseman once told the Forward that “not being able to study acting was her life’s regret.” In countless interviews, Wiseman described his upbringing as secular but culturally Jewish — one with plenty of Yiddish and the Forverts on the kitchen table. It was a childhood that inculcated a moral restlessness that he would spend his entire creative life channeling through film.
Before the camera, there was the classroom: Williams College, then Yale Law School. Law was his first chosen arena, and there is something telling in that. To make a good lawyer, you need curiosity, patience and the stamina to sit with contradiction. Wiseman found the law constricting and he turned, gradually and then completely, to filmmaking, where the rules were up for grabs but the moral stakes were never abstract.
After helping to produce Cool World, a 1965 feature about drug addiction, violence and economic hardship set in Harlem, Wiseman bought a 16mm camera and went to Bridgewater State Hospital to film Titicut Follies. His first film remains one of his most notorious, not least for influencing Miloš Forman’s 1975 One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. The state hospital for the criminally insane becomes, through Wiseman’s lens, both theater and trial. The patients are on display for us as are the guards but we, the audience, are on trial too: How do we treat the weakest among us? How do we look away?
Although the film represents an early example of his unobtrusive style, it was so uncomfortably honest that the Massachusetts government succeeded in banning it from general American distribution for 20 years. It was the first known film to be censored for reasons other than obscenity, immorality or national security. This is where his Jewishness lived — in the refusal to flinch from the unspeakable. Wiseman spent six decades getting us to see what we really mean by the places we build, the rules we enforce, and sometimes the people we push to the margins.
His “reality fictions,” as he preferred to call them, are quiet but not passive. They have no narration — no voice-of-God explanations or neat moral conclusions. The camera simply sits, bearing witness to public housing in Chicago, an inner-city high school in Philadelphia, Boston city government, a Dallas department store, a welfare office, a library in Queens, smalltown Indiana, and two views of domestic violence in Florida. What emerges is an archive of American power and American fragility.
Even more than his contemporaries D.A. Pennebaker and the Maysles brothers, Wiseman avoided tying his stories into a single ideological bow. But, just like his friend and follower Errol Morris, he never stopped asking questions. He once said he disliked the word “documentary” because it suggested a neatness and authority that reality refuses to offer. Like a scribe working on a Torah scroll, Wiseman would spend a year or more in his editing room shaping hundreds of hours of footage into a final cut.
Every editing choice was an act of interpretation, and every interpretation was a kind of moral accounting. To watch a Wiseman film is to practice a secular version of cheshbon nefesh — an accounting of the soul. We see the small humiliations of bureaucracy, the quiet heroism of nurses, the petty tyrannies of principals, the warmth and indifference that coexist inside every institution. His films remind us that institutions, including marriage, are made up of people, and people are both better and worse than the systems they create.
Though Wiseman never foregrounded his Jewishness in public, it filtered through his choice of subjects — and his abiding belief in the dignity of ordinary lives. He loved the messy, pluralistic, contradictory spaces where authority and people meet, like a library, a community center, a city council meeting. He loved making films and was annoyed not to be able to film or edit after his 2023 feature, Menus-Plaisirs – Les Troisgros, about a Michelin three star-restaurant and the family that runs it.
He once called his films “epic poems,” but they are also commentaries, in the rabbinic sense: teasing out what is hidden in plain sight, turning it over and over until it yields something that might help us live with ourselves. Wiseman was excited in 2025 when a group of archivists finished the process of restoring and digitizing 33 of his films so that his entire oeuvre can be more easily examined for years to come.
Wiseman’s focus was mainly on the United States, though he did film elsewhere — especially in Paris where he filmed at a strip club and a dance rehearsal at the Paris Opera Ballet. In later years, when asked how he chose what to film, he said simply: “Curiosity.” But curiosity, for Wiseman, was never passive. It was a demand to see. In this, he practiced a form of tikkun olam — repair of the world — that was all the more radical for being so understated. He didn’t shout. He didn’t score cheap points. He invited us to do the hard work ourselves.
He was honored, eventually, by the very institutions he made his life’s work dissecting. A MacArthur “Genius Grant,” a Guggenheim Fellowship, an honorary Academy Award, the Golden Lion for Lifetime Achievement in Venice. Yet he remained — in temperament and in practice — the same outsider who first brought his camera to that state hospital in 1967, sure only that the camera should watch and listen, and that we should, too.
Wiseman’s wife Zipporah Batshaw passed away in 2021 but he is survived by his two children and a generation of filmmakers who learned from him that moral clarity need not come at the expense of complexity. They carry forward the project of asking the unasked questions, of looking at what we’d rather ignore. In that way, his legacy is not a monument but a living tradition — an ever-expanding conversation about what it means to be human, to be responsible for each other, and to stand, clear-eyed, in the face of the world as it is.
May his memory be a blessing, and may we, like him, never stop seeing.
The post Forever curious, never daunted, Frederick Wiseman sought to repair the world through film appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
US Ambassador Urges Belgium to Drop Charges Against Mohels, Warning Case Threatens Religious Freedom
A Orthodox Jewish man is seen in the city of Antwerp, Belgium. Photo: Reuters/Belga Photo Dirk Waem
US Ambassador to Belgium Bill White has urged local authorities to drop all charges against three trained circumcisers known as mohels whose homes were raided last spring amid a government probe into illegal circumcisions — with Jewish and political leaders warning the case is a direct threat to religious freedom.
The US diplomat slammed the Belgian government’s legal action against the mohels as a “ridiculous and antisemitic prosecution.”
“Antisemitism is unacceptable in any form, and it must be rooted out of our society,” White wrote in a social media post on X.
The mohels “are doing what they have been trained to do for thousands of years,” he continued. “Stop this unacceptable harassment of the Jewish community here in Antwerp and in Belgium.”
White also called on Belgian Minister of Health Frank Van den Broecke to deregulate the Jewish ritual, effectively lifting government restrictions and allowing it to be practiced freely.
“It’s 2026, you need to get into the 21st century and allow our brethren Jewish families in Belgium to legally execute their religious freedoms!” the US diplomat said. “It’s disgusting what’s happened to these fine men and their families because of your inaction.”
Anti Semitism is UNACCEPTABLE in any form & it must be rooted out of our society.
President TRUMP @POTUS @realDonaldTrump @JDVance @VP @SecRubio @StateSEAS @DeputySecState and I call upon all of Belgium to do a much better job on this subject !
TO BELGIUM,
SPECIFICALLY YOU…
— Ambassador Bill White (@BillWhiteUSA) February 16, 2026
In May last year, Belgian police raided three locations in the Jewish Quarter of Antwerp, a northern Belgian city, seizing circumcision tools from several mohels after a local anti-Zionist rabbi filed a complaint accusing them of performing unauthorized or illegal circumcisions.
A mohel is a trained practitioner who performs the ritual circumcision in Jewish tradition known as a bris.
Among the homes raided by the Belgian police was that of Rabbi Aharon Eckstein, a highly experienced mohel and a prominent leader within the Antwerp Jewish community.
According to a police report, the searches had been ordered by a judge following a complaint filed in 2023 by Rabbi Moshe Aryeh Friedman, an anti-Zionist activist previously accused of Holocaust denial, against Eckstein and other mohels within the Jewish community.
Since 2024, prosecutors have been investigating illegal circumcisions in the country amid concerns from local authorities that some Jewish circumcisions were being performed by individuals without proper medical training.
Now, the three mohels face charges for performing a medical procedure without a license, with prosecutors saying they have gathered enough evidence to secure a conviction, Belgian Member of Parliament Michael Freilich, the country’s only Orthodox Jewish lawmaker, told The Times of Israel.
However, a trial date has not yet been set and could take several months to schedule.
In his complaint, Friedman had accused six mohels, whom he identified to the police, of endangering infants by performing the metzitzah b’peh ritual, in which the mohel uses his mouth to suction blood from the circumcision area.
Eckstein and other rabbis, along with parents of children circumcised by them, have denied such accusations, insisting that they do not perform this practice.
In Antwerp, Friedman is known for publicly criticizing several customs that are important to ultra-Orthodox Jews, who represent the majority of the city’s 18,000 Jewish residents.
At the time, Jewish and political leaders accused local authorities of using the raids as part of a broader effort to intimidate religious figures in Belgium.
Ralph Pais, vice-chair of the Jewish Information and Documentation Centre (JID), commended White for his efforts, emphasizing the message of solidarity it sends to the local Jewish community.
“America continues to honor a commitment that Europe has also vowed to uphold: protecting Jewish life and ensuring that Jews can live openly and safely,” Pais said in a statement. “We expect Belgium to fully comply with the very principles and democratic values it claims to defend.”
Last July, dozens of European Jewish leaders called on the European Union to take action against Belgium, arguing that the Belgian police’s actions “represent a breach of an EU fundamental right, that of freedom of religion” and warning that this “echoes one of the darkest chapters in European history.”
Despite several attempts to ban the Jewish tradition cross Europe, ritual circumcision remains legal in all European countries, though many — including Belgium — limit the practice to licensed surgeons and often perform it in a synagogue.
In 2024, the Irish government arrested a London-based rabbi for allegedly performing a circumcision without the required medical credentials, marking the first arrest of a rabbi in Europe in years related to a bris.
The Conference of European Rabbis, through its Union of Mohels of Europe, is working to create a system of self-regulation and licensing for mohels, aiming to reduce the need for government oversight.