Features
“Agent Sonya” – the story of the Soviet Union’s most important female spy
Reviewed by BERNIE BELLAN I happened to have the radio on one Saturday afternoon – more as background noise than anything, when Elanor Wachtel’s CBC program on books, “Writers & Company”, came on. Normally I don’t pay attention to Wachtel’s program because it requires paying complete attention to the radio – something which I rarely do unless I’m out for a walk. However, as soon as Wachtel began to introduce her guest, a writer by the name of Ben Macintyre, the subject matter immediately grabbed my interest. Here is how she introduced Macintyre:
“Mrs. Len Beurton of Great Rollright, a tiny village in the Cotswolds, was an apparently ordinary housewife and mother of three, famous for her home-baked scones.
“In reality, she was Agent Sonya, a top Soviet operative, transmitting plans for the atomic bomb from an outhouse in her Oxfordshire garden. Her real name was Ursula Kuczynski and her intelligence work took her from her native Germany to Shanghai, Japanese-occupied Manchuria, Poland, Switzerland and England.
“Ursula’s eventful life is the subject of Ben Macintyre’s compelling new book. The British journalist is known for his bestselling accounts of international espionage — stories of intrigue, romance, betrayal, war, loyalty and conflicted morality. Over the past 30 years, he’s produced a dozen engaging, authoritative studies of high-profile figures ranging from Britain’s famed double agent Kim Philby to Moscow’s Oleg Gordievsky, who spied for Britain. He is also currently a columnist and associate editor for the Times U.K.”
As I listened with rapt interest to Macintyre describing the life of “Agent Sonya” I was determined to read his book – and I did, in less than a week.
Now, while I have somewhat of an interest in spy thrillers, including several I’ve read by Daniel Silva who features an Israeli spymaster by the name of Gabriel Allon (after being turned on to Silva two years ago during one of the meetings of the book club this paper co-sponsors with the Rady JCC, when our brilliant convener Sharon Freed who, unfortunately died much too young, included Silva’s “Rembrandt Affair” on the reading list that year), I much prefer reading non-fiction accounts of espionage, especially when they’re about the Mossad.
So, when Macintyre began to relate the story of an incredibly successful female spy for the Russians whose story has gone relatively unreported – and then happened to remark that she was Jewish to boot – well, he had me hooked.
Sonya Buerton (born Ursula Kuczynski, a.k.a. Sonya Hambuerger) was one of those rare individuals who not only succeeded brilliantly at her craft, she managed to live out her days dying a natural death in Moscow in the 1970s. That she survived the Stalin era in itself is rather extraordinary as Stalin’s paranoia led him to purge the ranks of his spy network on an ongoing basis – including a good many of the agents who had nurtured Sonya’s own career.
The fact that Ursula Kuczynski was born into an upper class Jewish family in Berlin in 1908 is something that I found most intriguing. The often pivotal roles that many Jews played in the spread of communist ideology in the first few decades of the 20th century is something that is widely known, but reading about someone who came from quite a prosperous family and who chose to commit herself to the pursuit of an ideology that was essentially antithetical to her own upbringing – and remained absolutely committed to that vision throughout her life, is not easy to understand.
Having experienced the chaos of the Weimar Republic in Germany one might well comprehend how someone as intelligent and well-educated as Ursula would have been drawn to communism in her late teens – at a time when Germany was being polarized into two camps – fascist and communist. It doesn’t seem, however, that the Kuczynski family’s being Jewish had much to do with what eventually became a thoroughly unquestioning loyalty to Soviet Communist ideology on the part of everyone of its members, including Ursula’s father, brother, and four sisters. That Ursula remained committed to communism throughout her life, however, despite all the betrayals of its goals perpetrated by Stalin and his disciples, is much more difficult to understand.
Macintryre doesn’t spend much time exploring the lure that communism held for Jews, but what I found particularly unsettling is how each member of this family was able to rationalize Stalin’s atrocities. Further, when the Russian Foreign Minister Molotov and his German counterpart Von Ribbentrop signed their non-aggression pact in 1939, the fact that so many communist sympathizers were able to twist themselves into pretzels defending a total betrayal of everything they had been espousing when it came to fighting fascism is really an indication how easily communist sympathizers could justify a 180 degree reversal in thinking without much compunction.
Ursula’s life, as told by Macintyre, was thoroughly documented throughout her lifetime, by her and by others, who kept detailed accounts all through the 1920s, 30s, and 40s. It turned out that Ursula was actually an excellent writer and her journals were not only detailed and very readable, when she eventually managed to escape to the Soviet Union shortly after the end of World War II, she managed to turn her fine writing talent into a craft as a writer of spy thrillers under the pen name “Ruth Werner”. (Her books, written in Russian and translated into several languages, actually sold quite well. As Macintyre notes, Ursula was merely one more former spy who was able to use their own experiences in order to turn out masterful spy novels. Included in that group also were Graham Greene and John Le Carré.)
Yet, as much as Ursula’s being Jewish does not play a central role in “Agent Sonya”, consider this: Her first marriage was also to a fellow Jew, an architect by the name of Rudolf Hamburger. Hamburger himself had no interest in Ursula’s communist leanings early on, and he was rather successful as an architect. But, in one of the most surprising twists in the story, once he and Ursula moved to China, where he helped to design some of the famous buildings along Shanghai’s Bund, and Ursula was first approached with the idea of becoming a Russian spy, even all the while that their marriage was falling apart, Hamburger was gradually transforming into a communist himself.
Further, even after Ursula left him – and the child that she bore while married to him, Hamburger became convinced that he too had to become a Russian spy! All the while he still loved Ursula too, even after he learned that she had become pregnant by another man and then again, by yet a third man.
It was in China that Ursula became a full-fledged Russian spy – with a change of name to Sonya. Several characters played key roles in leading to Ursula’s gradual induction into the world of Soviet espionage, including an America writer by the name of Agnes Smedley – a larger than life character who eventually became a leading apologist for Mao Tse Tung’s totalitarian rule.
The cast of characters in “Agent Sonya” is riveting. What Macintryre does so brilliantly is describe how ordinary individuals who would not stand out in any exceptional way possess the key ingredients that it takes to be a successful spy, including, among others: resourcefulness, an exceptional ability to lie one’s way through any situation, and what Ursula Kuczynski apparently possessed in spades: an ability to thoroughly compartmentalize one’s life.
Here we have a woman who, on the one hand, is a capable housewife – and mother – to three different children, by three different men no less! (and the children actually move with her from time to time as she’s relocated by her Soviet spymasters to different locations around the world, including Manchuria, Poland, Switzerland, and finally Britain), at the same time as she is able to insinuate herself into the upper echelons of enemy administrations wherever she is based.
In one passage that I found particularly compelling, “Sonya” describes how difficult it often was for her to sleep – and dream, without finding all the contradictory aspects of her various secret lives running up against one another. All the while she did this without resorting to alcohol or drugs – which is what almost inevitably become the crutches upon which spies lean. That she was also able to move from relationship to relationship with different men – twice at the order of her Soviet spymasters, and actually have honestly warm relationships with them to the point where she did love them yet, when ordered to leave those men, embark on a new assignment, is testament to her total acceptance of her role.
Here’s another interesting note about Sonya: As much as the intelligence she provided about various enemies, including: Chinese Republicans in Shanghai, Japanese occupiers in Manchuria, and German Nazis in Switzerland, was of great value to Russian intelligence, it was when she was able to move to England in 1941 that her greatest espionage coup was to come.
Living in a nondescript farmhouse in an out of the way village not too far from Oxfordshire – and by this time her name was now Sonya Buerton (the last man to whom she was married was also a spy by the name of Len Buerton), she was put in touch with a German-born scientist by the name of Klaus Fuchs. Fuchs was a brilliant physicist who was working on Britain’s own plan to develop an atomic bomb – separate and apart from what the Americans were doing at the same time. He was, however, a devout communist and determined to share whatever secrets he could with the Russians.
Sonya became his intermediary through which he was able to pass along reams of information to the Russians that proved to be of incalculable value in helping the Russians to leap frog what would undoubtedly have taken them years more to acquire on their own. Later, he moved to the U.S. to work on the fabled Manhattan Project. It was while he was in the U.S. that he had a change of heart, however, and turned himself in as a spy to the Americans. At the same time, though, he never betrayed Sonya.
Macintyre asks repeatedly how it was that Sonya was never caught by British intelligence, despite all the evidence that had been pointing for quite some time in her direction. Although he doesn’t arrive at a definitive conclusion, he suggests that more than anything, it was the total incompetence of the head of MI5 (Britain’s internal intelligence service), someone by the name of Roger Hollis, that led to Sonya’s being able to evade arrest.
At the time there was only one woman in a senior position in MI5, whose name was Millicent Bagot. Bagot was a dedicated – and thoroughly competent spychaser, far better qualified in her position than Hollis, who never believed that a woman could be a successful spy. Bagot was actually convinced early on that Sonya was a Russian agent and she bitterly fought to keep her from being allowed to enter Britain in 1941.
There is more than a little irony in the fact that one of Russia’s most successful spies of all time was a woman who was able to carry on her espionage precisely because she was a woman, while the one individual who would undoubtedly have been able to expose Sonya was also a woman but whose abilities were constantly underestimated, just as Sonya’s were, surrounded as she was by thick headed men.
“Agent Sonya” is a thoroughly compelling read. While the fact that Sonya was Jewish may be regarded as largely irrelevant to what became the story of her life since it never seemed to play any role in what ultimately ensued, I’m sure that for Jewish readers of this book the awareness that the person they are reading about was Jewish will lead to one’s wondering whether her being Jewish played a much larger role in her story than perhaps even Sonya herself was aware.
Here’s what Macintrye himself has to say in summing up Ursula’s life toward the end of his book: “If you had visited the quaint English village of Great Rollright in 1945, you might have spotted a thin, dark-haired and unusually elegant woman emerging from a stone farmhouse called The Firs, and climbing on to her bicycle. She had three children and a husband, Len, who worked in the nearby aluminium factory. She was friendly but reserved, and spoke English with a faint accent. She baked excellent cakes. Her neighbours in the Cotswolds knew little about her.
“They did not know that the woman they called ‘Mrs Burton’ was really Colonel Ursula Kuczynski of the Red Army, a dedicated communist, a decorated Soviet military intelligence officer and a highly-trained spy who had conducted espionage operations in China, Poland and Switzerland, before coming to Britain on Moscow’s orders. They did not know that her three children each had a different father, nor that her husband was also a secret agent. They were unaware that she was a German Jew, a fanatical opponent of Nazism who had spied against the fascists during the Second World War and was now spying on Britain and America in the new Cold War. They did not know that in the outdoor privy behind The Firs, Mrs Burton had constructed a powerful radio transmitter tuned to Soviet intelligence headquarters in Moscow. The villagers of Great Rollright did not know that in her last mission of the war, Mrs Burton had infiltrated communist spies into a top-secret American operation parachuting anti-Nazi agents into the dying Third Reich. These “Good Germans” were supposedly spying for America; in reality, they were working for Colonel Kuczynski of Great Rollright.
“But Mrs Burton’s most important undercover job was one that would shape the future of the world: she was helping the Soviet Union to build the atom bomb.
“For years, Ursula had run a network of communist spies deep inside Britain’s atomic weapons research programme, passing on information to Moscow that would eventually enable Soviet scientists to assemble their own nuclear device. She was fully engaged in village life; her scones were the envy of Great Rollright. But in her parallel, hidden life she was responsible, in part, for maintaining the balance of power between East and West and (she believed) preventing nuclear war by stealing the science of atomic weaponry from one side to give to the other. When she hopped on to her bike with her ration book and carrier bags, Mrs Burton (or, more precisely, Beurton) was going shopping for lethal secrets.
“Ursula Kuczynski was a mother, housewife, novelist, expert radio technician, spymaster, courier, saboteur, bomb-maker, Cold Warrior and secret agent, all at the same time.”
“Agent Sonya” – the story of the Soviet Union’s most important female spy
“Agent Sonya”
By Ben Macintyre
354 pages
Published Sept., 2020
Available on Amazon
Uncategorized
Why NBA Teams Start Defending Before Half Court
An NBA defender who meets a ball handler near the opposite baseline is trying to interfere with the possession before the offense gets organized. The immediate reward need not be a steal. Making a guard change direction, protect the ball, or find another receiver can interrupt the route into a play. But pressure has several possible results, and slowing that first journey does not necessarily slow the whole game.
In Logan Murdock’s November 2025 report on full-court defense, Phoenix Suns guard Jordan Goodwin described his aim: “Try to make them take at least six seconds off the clock.” That was his target, not a measured average. Indiana Pacers coach Rick Carlisle described another purpose: getting opponents to play faster than they prefer. Both approaches interfere with timing, though one delays the setup while the other hurries decisions.
The shot clock helps explain the difference. In a normal NBA possession following a made basket, the offense has 24 seconds, with the countdown starting when the inbound pass is legally touched on the court. It must also advance out of the backcourt within eight seconds. Crossing half court does not start a fresh shot clock. Time spent getting there leaves less time to create a shot. A defensive deflection that stays inbounds does not restart the countdown.
Defensive pressure also needs careful interpretation in basketball betting. An NBA matchup on the Bovada website cannot be reduced to whether one team presses: the combined score depends on how often both sides get the ball and what they do with their chances. A defender delaying the first pass into an offense can leave less time for a good attempt. A turnover followed by a quick basket has a different effect.
Those possibilities make defensive intensity an incomplete description of a scoring outlook. A team can force its opponent to work harder while creating quick attacking chances for itself. It can also concede an easy chance when pressure fails. Understanding the tactic means separating its purpose from its outcome, rather than treating an aggressive defender as evidence that the game must produce fewer points.
Pressure does not always mean a trap
One defender following the ball is different from two defenders closing around it. The first can contest the dribbler while teammates remain with their own assignments. A trap commits another player to the ball, so teammates elsewhere must cover the passing options and protect the basket.
A stopped dribble changes the contest. Once a player voluntarily picks up the ball, he cannot simply start dribbling again. He can still pivot, pass, or shoot, but moving away from pressure with another dribble is no longer an option. A defender can therefore restrict movement without taking possession. This is also why a guard’s choice to keep the dribble alive deserves attention: it preserves a way to move while searching for a pass.
Watch where the ball goes next. A trap can succeed by forcing an awkward pass that another defender intercepts. The players surrounding the ball do not have to be the ones who take it away. Reaching for a steal also differs from keeping the ball handler contained; abandoning position can give the guard a route past the pressure.
The offense has answers. In the Murdock report referenced earlier, Golden State guard Brandin Podziemski described using his body to shield the ball against smaller defenders and quickness to get beyond longer opponents. Beating the first defender can leave that player trailing, creating a temporary advantage farther upcourt. The remaining defenders then have to respond to an attack before their teammate has time to recover.
The work before a highlight
Former NBA guard Keith Bogans gives a defender’s perspective in his conversation with Vernon Maxwell. Discussing Jaden McDaniels, Bogans says that seeing a defender pick up a superstar across the court gets him excited in the way a dunk or crossover excites other viewers.
*
His reaction focuses on the challenge being accepted. The scorer has someone to deal with before reaching a preferred attacking position. Bogans also describes the recognition that such defensive work receives from teammates and coaches, even when it attracts little attention elsewhere.
The assignment does not end when the scorer passes. The defender still needs to follow the play and be ready for the ball to return. Early pressure can force a star to give up the ball without removing him from the possession. Watching the next pass shows whether the defense has actually disrupted the attack or merely moved it.
When defense creates offense
Indiana scored 19 points off turnovers in Finals Game 6 against Oklahoma City on June 19, 2025. The figure does not isolate full-court pressure.
A change of possession ends one team’s opportunity and begins another’s. The team winning the ball can attack immediately or organize its offense, depending on the space and defenders ahead. Pressure therefore cannot be assessed only by the time an opponent spends bringing the ball forward.
Look beyond the pickup point. Does the offense arrive late but still organized? Does it make a hurried pass? Does the ball handler escape and make the remaining defenders cover extra ground? The first defender can use up time without winning the ball. If the guard gets past him, watch whether the other defenders can stop the drive without leaving someone open.
Features
In new ‘Fauda’ season, the aftershocks of Oct. 7, without a thought for Gaza
By PJ Grisar September 8, 2026
This story was originally published in the Forward. Click here to get the Forward’s free email newsletters delivered to your inbox.
When Fauda Season 4 ended an eternity and a devastating war ago, our hero was at death’s door, reciting both the central prayer of Judaism, the Shema, and the Muslim Fatiha.
It was a cliffhanger with monumental implications for Doron Kavillio (Lior Raz), an Israeli Jew who spent his days undercover as a Muslim Arab — an identity crisis long in coming. Zoom out and you can see the doomed duality of Israel and Palestine, Jew and Muslim, connected in a cycle of death and more alike than they may seem.
Season 5 begins bilingually, with Hebrew and Arab definitions of the Arabic word Tha’r, blood revenge, “restoring violated honor or avenging injustice.” This concept is now the point of commonality — not how men pray, but how they seek revenge.
Welcome to a post-Oct. 7 Israel. Doron is in therapy, struggling to recall eight missing hours of his life on the day of Hamas’ attack on the Gaza envelope.
Comrades have left the country — Steve (Doron Ben-David) is protecting oligarchs in London, Sagi and Nurit are in Australia. Eli (Yaakov Zada-Daniel) is now Orthodox, living in a settlement and reeling from the murder of his wife and stepchildren at his now-torched kibbutz. When a Bedouin friend, Salem (Bian Anteer) who lost his son in the raid on Eli’s home, approaches him with a tip on the Nukhba fighter responsible, they depart for Marseille to answer the call of Tha’r.
It would hardly be Fauda if this act of vengeance didn’t give way to a much larger plot. Marseille is the staging ground for Saeed el Hatib (French-Algerian actor Hakim Djaziri), “the Sinwar of Europe,” who is recruiting sympathetic, white continentals for a fresh massacre in Israel.
Fauda has always made some viewers uncomfortable. Massively entertaining, bingeable to those of us who stream it in the Netflix aftermarket, its existence was premised on ongoing injustices in the West Bank and Gaza and the violence that bursts through their borders. (The BDS movement labelled it a “war-crimes glorifying” series;” Haaretz called it “morally dubious.”)
And yet as late as the last season it contained very real criticism of Israel’s conduct, including its costly campaigns to recover captured soldiers and the torture used to extract information on their whereabouts. The show always alluded to real operations — Cast Lead, Brother’s Keeper — in dialogue. But because it can’t merely mention an attack as raw and monumental as Oct. 7, and because it has no desire to question the response to it, it chooses to recreate its savagery.
Episodes 7 and 8, flashbacks to that day, are front-loaded with a trigger warning and a disclaimer that you can skip them and still be able to follow the main plot.
It’s hard for me to recommend those episodes. If not exactly atrocity porn, their central, race-against-time set piece is too anchored in recent events and constructed too much like an action movie. It feels in a sense exploitative, even if intended as a tribute. (To give them credit, both Lior Raz and his co-creator Avi Issacharoff, who said they “wrote from their trauma,” were on the ground helping the south of the country evacuate in the aftermath.)
The new season starts with the promise of complexity. It opens on a grieving Muslim father and shifts to a milksop accountant who worked for Hamas, seemingly tortured by Eli in a blind rage for a crime he didn’t commit. Could an excessive devotion to Tha’r, a tribal code of retribution, be the diagnosis of the show’s creators of Israeli society at this moment?
If it is, it’s not a critical one. The villains are the villains, and, most revealingly, they now number people with no connection to the conflict.
Hatib’s enlistment of white Europeans for a mass-casualty terror attack services a trite narrative of postcolonial guilt finding an outlet in the pro-Palestinian cause. It works on another level too: This fighting force is squaring off against Doron’s corps of Mizrahi Jews, whose mere presence dismantles the lie that Israelis are themselves all white colonizers, and that Israel and the European empire of yore are in any way analogous.
When, back at mission control, the counterterrorists speak of “suspicious-looking Europeans” who are “in their 30s,” the derision for this type of fellow traveller is palpable. Their standard bearer, Mélanie Laurent, formerly Tarantino’s “face of Jewish vengeance,” plays Anne, a blonde, “high middle-class Catholic French woman” who straps up with C-4, a keffiyeh ever-draped around her neck. Through her, and in a quite literal way, the show suggests the Western love affair with Palestinians — which in this season’s logic means Hamas — is misguided.
All the while, we never see Gaza, where much of Season 3 was set, with some among its population humanized. We never reckon with the destruction there. We hear about it, and a kind of lip service is paid to the crime of collective punishment — the sort that we hear at the end of almost every season — but it’s secondary to storytelling as elegy and justification. One could just have easily placed the Hebrew word Zachor before that first cold open: Remember what they did to us.
At one point, after a shootout with more blood spatter than I ever recall seeing on the show, Doron empties his clip into an enemy with the words “this is for October 7.” Seconds later, in a Shin Bet command room his handler Gabi (Itzik Cohen, whose between-seasons weight gain is a running joke) quips, a la Danny Glover in Lethal Weapon, “I’m too old for this.”
He’s not the only one.
In the past week I’ve chatted with some folks older than me — they don’t know each other and are largely to my right on Israel — who don’t relish the thought of another season. Not just because they don’t want to watch Oct. 7 reenacted, but because following the exploits of Israeli security agents has vastly different optics after the Hamas-Israel war, unprecedented settler violence and National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir’s recently-stated ideal scenario of killing “30 or 40” Palestinians in Gaza each night.
This may well be the privilege of the diaspora, but the fatigue points to a shift in attitude that’s worth paying attention to. If these horrors are out of sight, out of mind this season, they’re top of mind to many who are watching — and many others who might have once tuned in.
PJ Grisar is a Forward culture reporter. Read full bio →
This story was originally published on the Forward.
Features
“Jerusalemites” – Photographer Sharon Gabay talks about his new book in a spectacular photo essay
By JOANNE PALMER (reprinted with permission from the New Jersey Jewish News and the Jewish Standard) If every person is a world, as our tradition tells us, then a city is filled with so many worlds that it’s impossible to imagine all those rubbing-together universes.
That’s particularly true of Jerusalem, one of the world’s oldest cities, at just about 5,000 years old, give or take; a recent demographic study, done in 2026, estimates its population at around 1,181,760. It has grown remarkably quickly; maybe people are drawn by its ancient, stony beauty, or by the history and other-worldliness that shimmers around it, or by the vibrant, modern cacophony of its diverse residents.
For the last 15 years, Sharon Gabay, a highly successful professional photographer whose bread-and-butter is stunning headshots, party pictures, and portraits of politicians and other social and legal strivers, has wandered through the city, just looking and taking pictures. He’s a 15th-generation Yerushalmi, and although now he lives in the Judean hills, in Moshav Nes Harim, near Ein Kerem and Beit Shemesh, he goes to Jerusalem every week to photograph what he sees.
He’s published six books of photography about Jerusalem. All are both beautiful and emotional. The most recent of them, “Jerusalemites,” is the newest and perhaps the most emotional, created with love, gestated in fear, and now born into a world that perhaps surprisingly radiates with hope.
Okay. What could that possibly mean?
It means that on October 11, 2023, Mr. Gabay went to Kfar Aza. “Everybody who could do anything did something, and I wanted to do something too,” he said. Some kind of response to the barbarism and terror and grief of the Hamas attack. Kfar Aza, one of the southernmost kibbutzim in Israel, was one of the hardest hit. “Because I am a documentary photographer, I asked to join Zaka,” Israel’s emergency response, rescue, and recovery nonprofit organization, “the first time they went in. I went in with them.
“I took pictures. I had two exhibitions using these pictures” — one of them “Holocaust in the Village,” is online — “but it hurt my mind. It was a trauma for me. And I didn’t touch my camera for two years. I just stayed in my studio in Nes Harim, taking psychiatry pills and trying to forget what I saw.
“And during this time I decided to make this book. I sat on it for two years, just learning how to do it effectively.
“There are almost no words in this book. Only pictures. And this is the message: We all live together 99 percent of the time. What the world sees about Jerusalem in the news is what happens maybe three or four percent of the time. All the rest of the time, all 99 percent of the people, other people around the world don’t know about. So I decided to make this book.
“The little text that I do have is in three languages — Hebrew, English, and Arabic. The languages spoken by the people of Jerusalem.”
The small number of Hebrew words in the text are written in a font created from the handwriting of Aner Shapira, who was 22 when he went to the Nova music festival in southern Israel on Simchat Torah — October 7, 2023. He took cover in a shelter with a group of other young Israelis, and he saved many of their lives by throwing seven explosive grenades that Hamas operatives threw into the shelter back out at the terrorists. The eighth exploded in his hand and killed him.
When Aner died, “he left behind a lot of songs that he wrote. They took his handwriting and made a font of it, and I chose to use it for the text.
“He was a Yerushalmi and he loved the city. He wrote about the diversity inside the city, and how you can see everything there. So I decided to put the text in his handwriting as a memorial to him.
When he began to make the book, Mr. Gabay had to look through the enormous archive he’d created. For 15 years he’s roamed the city. His camera is small, old, and unthreatening, a beaten-up Fuji with a visible crack on the case. He takes pictures unobtrusively, he said. He doesn’t ask permission. He just shoots. Usually people don’t even know they’ve been photographed. Sometimes they come across pictures of themselves in his work, and sometimes they email or message him, asking for a copy. Of course, he said, he always sends one.
Culling his vast collection of images was not easy, Mr. Gabay said. Putting it together “made me go out on the streets again.” The vast majority of the photos in the book were taken before October 7, but he took some later, to fill in logical gaps. Even now, with the book finished, he wanders the city’s streets one day every week, camera in hand.
As he prepared the book, he winnowed the vast library of images to 2,000, and from there he whittled it down to 300. For that first cull, “I went through them one by one, me and my cat, hiding from the missiles when they came in, because this is the Middle East. I did it day by day by day by day, until I managed to take it from one and a half million to 2,000.”
The second selection process “was much easier, because by then I knew how I wanted to do it. It is not a random collection of pictures. It is a story, from beginning to end; it is the long story of a city. So there is always a connection from each picture to the picture before and the picture after. But this took a long time.”
“The book turned out to be very successful. I sold all the copies before I launched it. One museum in Israel took 1,000 copies. It got to Herzog”— Israeli President Isaac Herzog —“and Huckabee” — Mike Huckabee is the U.S. ambassador to Israel — “and they both wrote letters about the book.
“Now I am working on the second edition. I want to distribute it to all the Jewish communities and Christian communities and Muslim communities that don’t hate us. There are no politics in this book. It is just people. The background to the pictures is all black because the only light we have in Jerusalem is the people.”
His message, Mr. Gabay said, is that “Jerusalem is not an apartheid city. Everyone lives here.
“I was raised in Jerusalem,” he said. “When we were little, my friends and I went to the Muslim quarter. Nothing happened. Once in a while there’d be some trouble, but most of the time we lived together with no trouble. My family has been here for more than 300 years. I have a picture of my great-great-grandpa in the Old City of Jerusalem. We are connected to the city, all my family is, and we really love it.
“Jerusalem should have tourists the way Vatican City does. People don’t come to Jerusalem.” His attempt to cure that problem is to show the city’s glories on social media. “I have more than 100,000 followers, and they are from all over the world,” he said. “I have Iranian followers and Saudi followers. Suddenly they see the city and they are surprised. They want to come to visit. They all of a sudden see that if they come here, they won’t be arrested because they are Muslim.
“I want to dedicate my work to telling the truth about Jerusalem.”
Mr. Gabay still takes pictures in Jerusalem because “I always go out to see if there is something new, because there is always something new to take pictures of in Jerusalem.”
He also takes pictures of politicians, and that’s a particularly busy area now because of the Israeli election set for October 27. “Today I had a member of the Knesset from Ram, the Muslim party. Mansour Abbas’s party. They want to participate in Israeli politics. They say, ‘We have a life here, and we want to live.’ And on the other side, I did a lot of people from the government we have now. Which, you know, is not the best government we’ve ever had.
“I tell them to their faces what I’m thinking. They know me. They know that I have a big mouth, and that I never, ever lie. So every politician from every side, even the one who was here today, sees the book. And I’ve never had anyone ever say that it’s one-sided or that it doesn’t tell the truth. It’s about all the tribes of Israel.
“I’ve put all my knowledge about Jerusalem and its people in the book, and I try to bring in exactly what happens in real life. I don’t try to stage anything. I am a viewer. I come. I see. I take a picture, and I save it. And people can see what life is like in Jerusalem.
Mr. Gabay also spends a great deal of time doing pro bono work. He takes photos for “At Eye Level,” a nonprofit that works with people with autism. His website showcases much of who he is and what he does; readers can learn more about his book here.
He has a traveling exhibit for the book; the photos can be printed locally so there are no shipping or customs costs, and he often comes to speak in the United States, talking about “Jerusalem and its unique human diversity.
“This book, ‘Jerusalemites,’ is about hope,” he said. “It tells people around the world that what you know about Jerusalem isn’t right. We live together, day by day, all of us, everyone. Yes, we have been at war for three years, but Jerusalem is still vibrating.
“Jerusalem is a hope that if you let people just live, they can live together, and they can make it a great city.”
