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Embracing their place on ‘the fringes,’ queer artists reimagine Jewish ritual garments for all bodies
(JTA) — Binya Kóatz remembers the first time she saw a woman wearing tzitzit. While attending Friday night services at a Jewish Renewal synagogue in Berkeley, she noticed the long ritual fringes worn by some observant Jews — historically men — dangling below a friend’s short shorts.
“That was the first time I really realized how feminine just having tassels dangling off you can look and be,” recalled Kóatz, an artist and activist based in the Bay Area. “That is both deeply reverent and irreverent all at once, and there’s a deep holiness of what’s happening here.”
Since that moment about seven years ago, Kóatz has been inspired to wear tzitzit every day. But she has been less inspired by the offerings available in online and brick-and-mortar Judaica shops, where the fringes are typically attached to shapeless white tunics meant to be worn under men’s clothing.
So in 2022, when she was asked to test new prototypes for the Tzitzit Project, an art initiative to create tzitzit and their associated garment for a variety of bodies, genders and religious denominations, Kóatz jumped at the chance. The project’s first products went on sale last month.
“This is a beautiful example of queers making stuff for ourselves,” Kóatz said. “I think it’s amazing that queers are making halachically sound garments that are also ones that we want to wear and that align with our culture and style and vibrancy.”
Jewish law, or halacha, requires that people who wear four-cornered garments — say, a tunic worn by an ancient shepherd — must attach fringes to each corner. The commandment is biblical: “Speak to the Israelite people and instruct them to make for themselves fringes on the corners of their garments throughout the ages” (Numbers 15:37-41) When garments that lack corners came into fashion, many Jews responded by using tzitzit only when wearing a tallit, or prayer shawl, which has four corners.
But more observant Jews adopted the practice of wearing an additional four-cornered garment for the sole purpose of fulfilling the commandment to tie fringes to one’s clothes. Called a tallit katan, or small prayer shawl, the garment is designed to be worn under one’s clothes and can be purchased at Judaica stores or online for less than $15. The fringes represent the 613 commandments of the Torah, and it is customary to hold them and kiss them at certain points while reciting the Shema prayer.
“They just remind me of my obligations, my mitzvot, and my inherent holiness,” Kóatz said. “That’s the point, you see your tzitzit and you remember everything that it means — all the obligations and beauty of being a Jew in this world.”
The California-based artists behind the Tzitzit Project had a hunch that the ritual garment could appeal to a more diverse set of observant Jews than the Orthodox men to whom the mass-produced options are marketed. Julie Weitz and Jill Spector had previously collaborated on the costumes for Weitz’s 2019 “My Golem” performance art project that uses the mythical Jewish creature to explore contemporary issues. In one installment of the project focused on nature, “Prayer for Burnt Forests,” Weitz’s character ties a tallit katan around a fallen tree and wraps the tzitzit around its branches.
“I was so moved by how that garment transformed my performance,” Weitz said, adding that she wanted to find more ways to incorporate the garment into her life.
The Tzitzit Project joins other initiatives meant to explore and expand the use of tzitzit. A 2020 podcast called Fringes featured interviews with a dozen trans and gender non-conforming Jews about their experiences with Jewish ritual garments. (Kóatz was a guest.) Meanwhile, an online store, Netzitzot, has since 2014 sold tzitzit designed for women’s bodies, made from modified H&M undershirts.
The Tzitzit Project goes further and sells complete garments that take into account the feedback of testers including Kóatz — in three colors and two lengths, full and cropped, as well as other customization options related to a wearer’s style and religious practices. (The garments cost $100, but a sliding scale for people with financial constraints can bring the price as far down as $36.)
Spector and Weitz found that the trial users were especially excited by the idea that the tzitzit could be available in bright colors, and loved how soft the fabric felt on their bodies, compared to how itchy and ill-fitting they found traditional ones to be. They also liked that each garment could be worn under other clothing or as a more daring top on its own.
To Weitz, those attributes are essential to her goal of “queering” tzitzit.
“Queering something also has to do with an embrace of how you wear things and how you move your body in space and being proud of that and not carrying any shame around that,” she said. “And I think that that stylization is really distinct. All those gender-conventional tzitzit for men — they’re not about style, they’re not about reimagining how you can move your body.”
Artist Julie Weitz ties the knots of the tzitzit, fringes attached to the corners of a prayer shawl or the everyday garment known as a “tallit katan.” (Courtesy of Tzitzit Project)
For Chelsea Mandell, a rabbinical student at the Academy of Jewish Religion in Los Angeles who is nonbinary, the Tzitzit Project is creating Jewish ritual objects of great power.
“It deepens the meaning and it just feels more radically spiritual to me, when it’s handmade by somebody I’ve met, aimed for somebody like me,” said Mandell, who was a product tester.
Whether the garments meet the requirements of Jewish law is a separate issue. Traditional interpretations of the law hold that the string must have been made specifically for tzitzit, for example — but it’s not clear on the project’s website whether the string it uses was sourced that way. (The project’s Instagram page indicates that the wool is spun by a Jewish fiber artist who is also the brother of the alt-rocker Beck.)
“It is not obvious from their website which options are halachically valid and which options are not,” said Avigayil Halpern, a rabbinical student who began wearing tzitzit and tefillin at her Modern Orthodox high school in 2013 when she was 16 and now is seen as a leader in the movement to widen their use.
“And I think it’s important that queer people in particular have as much access to knowledge about Torah and mitzvot as they’re embracing mitzvot.”
Weitz explained that there are multiple options for the strings — Tencel, cotton or hand-spun wool — depending on what customers prefer, for their comfort and for their observance preferences.
“It comes down to interpretation,” she said. “For some, tzitzit tied with string not made for the purpose of tying, but with the prayer said, is kosher enough. For others, the wool spun for the purpose of tying is important.”
Despite her concerns about its handling of Jewish law, Halpern said she saw the appeal of the Tzitzit Project, with which she has not been involved.
“For me and for a lot of other queer people, wearing something that is typically associated with Jewish masculinity — it has a gender element,” explained Halpern, a fourth-year student at Hadar, the egalitarian yeshiva in New York.
“If you take it out of the Jewish framework, there is something very femme and glamorous and kind of fun in the ways that dressing up and wearing things that are twirly is just really joyful for a lot of people,” she said.
Rachel Schwartz first became drawn to tzitzit while studying at the Conservative Yeshiva in Jerusalem in 2018. There, young men who were engaging more intensively with Jewish law and tradition than they had in the past began to adopt the garments, and Schwartz found herself wondering why she had embraced egalitarian religious practices in all ways but this one.
“One night, I took one of my tank tops and I cut it up halfway to make the square that it needed. I found some cool bandanas at a store and I sewed on corners,” Schwartz recalled. “And I bought the tzitzit at one of those shops on Ben Yehuda and I just did it and it was awesome.”
Rachel Schwartz stands in front of a piece of graffiti that plays on the commandment to wear tzitzit, written in the Hebrew feminine. (Courtesy of Rachel Schwartz)
Schwartz’s experience encapsulates both the promise and the potential peril of donning tzitzit for people from groups that historically have not worn the fringes. Other women at the Conservative Yeshiva were so interested in her tzitzit that she ran a workshop where she taught them how to make the undergarment. But she drew so many critical comments from men on the streets of Jerusalem that she ultimately gave up wearing tzitzit publicly.
“I couldn’t just keep on walking around like that anymore. I was tired of the comments,” Schwartz said. “I couldn’t handle it anymore.”
Rachel Davidson, a Reconstructionist rabbi working as a chaplain in health care in Ohio, started consistently wearing a tallit katan in her mid-20s. Like Kóatz, she ordered her first one from Netzitzot.
“I would love to see a world where tallitot katanot that are shaped for non cis-male bodies are freely available and are affordable,” Davidson said. “I just think it’s such a beautiful mitzvah. I would love it if more people engaged with it.”
Kóatz believes that’s not only possible but natural. As a trans woman, she said she is drawn to tzitzit in part because of the way they bring Jewish tradition into contact with contemporary ideas about gender.
“Queers are always called ‘fringe,’” she said. “And here you have a garment which is literally like ‘kiss the fringes.’ The fringes are holy.”
—
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Why They Deny the Crimes of October 7
The personal belongings of festival-goers are seen at the site of an attack on the Nova Festival by Hamas terrorists from Gaza, near Israel’s border with the Gaza Strip, in southern Israel, Oct. 12, 2023. Photo: REUTERS/Ronen Zvulun
Even as they recorded their crimes in obsessive detail, the Nazis worked to deny and erase them. As the Shoah unfolded, they worked to conceal evidence: destroying documents, dismantling camps, burning bodies, and erasing traces of mass murder. Yet when the war ended and the scale of the Holocaust became undeniable, Nazis and their ideological fellow travelers did not retreat from denial. They escalated it. They sought to rewrite reality itself by denying, minimizing, relativizing, or distorting the crimes they had committed.
This eventually became a global phenomenon despite the Holocaust being one of the best-documented crimes in human history. Mountains of evidence existed: transport records, photographs, films, camp infrastructure, eyewitness and survivor testimony, perpetrator confessions, and the physical remnants of industrialized murder itself. None of it was enough for the deniers. Because Holocaust denial was never about evidence. It was about rehabilitating the perpetrators, delegitimizing Jewish suffering, and once again recasting Jews as manipulative liars, weaponizing victimhood for sympathy, power, or political gain.
Denial as Ideological Warfare
Today, something disturbingly similar is unfolding around October 7, particularly regarding the sexual crimes perpetrated by Hamas against Israeli women, men, and children.
A major new report by the Civil Commission, led by the inimitable Dr. Cochav Elkayam-Levy, presented what CNN described as “the most comprehensive body of evidence yet” documenting systematic sexual violence during and after the October 7 genocide. The report draws upon survivor testimony, released hostages, eyewitness accounts, forensic evidence, therapists, medical experts, and first responders. Its conclusion is unequivocal: Hamas and affiliated terrorists used sexual violence as a deliberate weapon of war designed to maximize pain, humiliation, and terror.
After more than two years of independent investigation, the Civil Commission has released a comprehensive report documenting sexual and gender-based violence committed by Hamas on October 7 and during hostage captivity.
The report is not only a historical record — it is a call… pic.twitter.com/lqzw168Pip
— The Civil Commission (@theCC07) May 12, 2026
The details are beyond horrifying. Women were raped beside the bodies of murdered friends. Victims were found partially naked, mutilated, tied to trees and poles, shot in the genitals, or executed after assault. Witnesses described gang rapes at the Nova festival. Former hostages spoke of sexual abuse, forced nudity, threats of forced marriage, and prolonged sexual humiliation in captivity.
Hamas terrorists and many Palestinian perpetrators recorded their crimes in sickening detail. Murders, kidnappings, torture, humiliation, and sexual violence were filmed, photographed, celebrated, and distributed online by the perpetrators themselves. In some cases, atrocities were broadcast through the victims’ own phones and social media accounts. Unlike the Nazis, Hamas’ violence was not hidden; it was publicized and glorified.
And yet denial persists.
Almost immediately after October 7, before the bodies were even cold, social media filled with claims that reports of rape were “Israeli propaganda.” Activists and commentators insisted there was “no evidence.” Others claimed Israelis had fabricated the allegations to justify war. Some demanded impossible evidentiary standards that are almost never applied to sexual violence anywhere else on earth. Even now, as testimonies accumulate and further evidence emerges, denial remains deeply embedded within parts of activist, academic, and media culture.
That is because, like Holocaust denial, this is not about evidence. Holocaust denial emerged despite overwhelming proof because the denial itself served a purpose. It protected the moral image of the perpetrators while transforming Jews from victims into deceivers. The denier does not simply reject facts. They reject the legitimacy of Jewish suffering itself. The same mechanism is visible today.
When Jewish Suffering Becomes Inconvenient
For many people invested in a worldview in which Israel represents absolute evil and Palestinians represent absolute victimhood, acknowledging the sexual crimes of October 7 creates tension. Jewish women cannot be permitted to exist as victims because their reality complicates the narrative. Israeli suffering becomes ideologically intolerable. And so it must be doubted, obscured, minimized, or erased altogether. This is why so much October 7 denialism focuses specifically on the sexual crimes.
Sexual violence carries a specific moral weight in contemporary society. To acknowledge that Hamas terrorists and their collaborators committed widespread and systematic acts of rape, mutilation, and sexual torture would require many activists to confront a reality: that individuals and movements they have celebrated, romanticized, excused, or sanitized committed acts of extraordinary brutality.
We should also recognize the profoundly anti-Jewish nature of this phenomenon. Jews are uniquely subjected to suspicion toward their suffering in ways that have become normalized across political and cultural life. The distrust of Jewish testimony has become so deeply embedded that many people no longer even recognize it as prejudice.
The Crime Continued Through Erasure
The tragedy is not only the crimes themselves, but what their denial reveals about the world Jews inhabit. After the Holocaust, many believed humanity had learned something: that there existed a moral obligation to listen to victims, document atrocities honestly, and ensure genocidal violence could never again be erased through propaganda and denial. Yet within hours of October 7, that promise began collapsing in real time.
The lesson of Holocaust denial should have taught us that evidence alone is never enough against ideologically motivated hatred. There will never be enough footage, enough testimony, enough witnesses, enough forensic evidence, or enough reports for those who have already decided that Jewish suffering does not count.
That is the real connection between Holocaust denial and the denial of October 7. Both ultimately rest upon the same underlying premise: that Jews are uniquely unworthy of belief, uniquely suspect in their suffering, and uniquely undeserving of moral sympathy.
Ultimately, when these crimes are denied, minimized, relativized, or erased, the victims are violated a second time. The murdered are stripped not only of their lives, but of the truth of what was done to them. The raped are stripped not only of bodily autonomy, but of the dignity of having their suffering acknowledged. Denial is never neutral. It is the continuation of the crime through erasure.
Founder of the modern Jewish Pride movement, Ben M. Freeman is the author of Jewish Pride: Rebuilding a People (2021), Reclaiming our Story: The Pursuit of Jewish Pride (2022) and The Jews: An Indigenous People (2025). Educating, inspiring and empowering, his work focuses on Jewish identity and historical and contemporary Jew-hatred. A Holocaust scholar for over fifteen years, Ben came to prominence during the Corbyn Labour Jew-hate crisis in the UK and quickly became one of his generation’s leading Jewish thinkers and voices against Jew-hate. The author is a contributor to HonestReporting, a Jerusalem-based media watchdog with a focus on antisemitism and anti-Israel bias — where a version of this article first appeared.
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Remembering Abe Foxman: My Time with a Hero of the Jewish People
Hearing the news that Abe Foxman died last Sunday at the age of 86 triggered a slew of memories about the man now being memorialized as “one of the last great architects of postwar American Jewish public life.”
Historians will surely write books studying Abe and his half-century legacy of fighting antisemitism, including 27 years as national director of the Anti-Defamation League (ADL).
But as Foxman was being eulogized by Jewish and non-Jewish leaders around the world, I recalled the amazing experiences I had with him, as I witnessed his quixotic quest to eliminate the infectious plague of antisemitism from the planet.
I come to this exercise with a unique lens; I may be the only newspaper reporter who both covered Abe, and then later went to work for him as ADL’s Director of Interfaith Affairs.
That history afforded me the opportunity to interact with Abe as both an outsider and an insider.
I experienced the little human asides — the famous hugs, as a reporter being called “tattele,” Yiddish for “good boy” which was somewhat cringeworthy for a journalist, and that time during a black-tie fundraiser in West Palm Beach where he came up to me and whispered, “get me out of here.” (I was never quite sure whether he was joking or not.)
So here I share some highlights of my time with the man that many remember so fondly.
As a young Holocaust survivor from Poland who was rescued, raised, and baptized by his Catholic nanny, Abe fully understood the importance of positive interfaith relations for the long-term health and welfare of the Jewish people.
As a reporter covering religion and interfaith issues, he called me one day and asked if I wanted to go to Rome and meet the Polish Pope, John Paul II. I was sure he was joking. The next thing I knew, I was sitting with him in a large conference room in the Vatican with a small contingent of ADL officials and the Pope. It was clear from their honest, direct, and warm exchange that these two sons of Poland held each other with great respect.
Several years later, as ADL’s interfaith director, Abe called me into his office after hearing that the Pope had selected Timothy Michael Dolan, the Archbishop of Milwaukee, to be the next Archbishop in New York City.
Abe’s directive was clear: “Find out when he’s coming to New York and make sure we are the first organization to meet with him.” Several frantic phone calls later, I arranged for Dolan to meet with us in Abe’s office a couple of days after he arrived in Manhattan. Dolan was immediately taken by Abe’s charm and thoughtful gift. It was the start of a long and deep friendship for us, that despite various controversies, held fast over the years.
But when it came to defending Jews and their dignity, Abe the charmer became Abe the bulldog. Late one afternoon in February 2012, he summoned me to his office.
He was clearly upset. It was revealed that the names of Nobel Laureate and Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel and his late father had been found in the genealogical database of the Mormon Church, now known as the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, making them available for posthumous baptism. Abe told me he was immediately calling one of the highest officials at church headquarters in Salt Lake City and demanding they remove the names, apologize, and stop baptizing Holocaust victims. Abe had his direct number. The Church Elder picked up the phone and attempted to explain the situation in bureaucratic terminology. But Abe wasn’t having it, holding fast to his demand. Within a few days, the church apologized stating this was not their policy. Abe tasked me to work with their interfaith director to monitor the situation and make sure they kept their word.
Abe also dedicated himself to defending others — embodying ADL’s mission statement “to stop the defamation of the Jewish people and secure justice and fair treatment for all.” When it became clear that local elected officials around the country were blocking Muslim communities from building or expanding their mosques by using questionable legal loopholes, Abe quickly approved my proposal to create an interfaith task force, ICOM, to support the rights of Muslim Americans to build their houses of worship. In addition, ADL’s civil rights division would file amicus briefs on behalf of the Muslim communities.
When it came to responding to haters of Jews and Israel, Abe generally criticized them with equal force, no matter the political party or the prominence of the person. In this age of polarization, this perhaps is the most important lesson to recall.
At his funeral at the ornate Park Avenue synagogue in Manhattan on Tuesday, more than 500 family, friends, current and former ADL officials, and New York and national Jewish leaders gathered to say goodbye to Foxman.
The funeral included video eulogies by Israeli President Issac Herzog, and Ambassador Susan E. Rice, who served as President Barack Obama’s National Security Advisor, who said she loved Foxman, and that he always had her back. Sara J. Bloomfield, the longtime director of the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C., consistently referred to Foxman as “a giant.” New York Times Columnist Tom Friedman, who first met Abe in summer camp when he was a teenager and Foxman was his camp leader, called him a “modern Maccabee.”
Foxman was also remembered as “a man of gravitas and humor” and as a “person of consequence” — respected and listened to by presidents, prime ministers, and popes.
He especially was remembered as a man who put family above everything, as testified by his two children and four grandchildren, who provided many touching details of his love and devotion to each one of them, being in touch every day with a call or an email, and ending his messages with “LOL” — which despite their corrections, Foxman insisted meant “lots of love.”
His daughter Michelle even located her father’s 1958 high school yearbook from Yeshivah of Flatbush High School in Brooklyn. Standing on the bimah or platform in front of the synagogue pews, she read his moving essay about the importance of the State of Israel to the Jewish people after the Holocaust, and his “secret mission” — conceived as an 18-year-old — to spend his life defending it.
Park Avenue Senior Rabbi Elliot Cosgrove, who led the service, stated that with Foxman’s passing, it was now the obligation of the leaders in the room, and future generations, to continue the fight against exploding violent antisemitism and anti-Israelism, and the protection of American democracy.
Rabbi Eric J. Greenberg is ADL’s former national Director of Interfaith Affairs and Outreach, and a national award-winning journalist.
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The Media Keeps Treating Terrorists as Civilians — Here’s the Proof
Since October 7, 2023, the media has worked tirelessly to accuse Israel of deliberately targeting civilians.
Yet despite Israel’s extensive efforts to minimize civilian harm, the terrorist organizations it is fighting have systematically worked to ensure the opposite outcome.
Hamas, Islamic Jihad, and Hezbollah have embedded themselves deeply within civilian society, inflating casualty figures while obscuring the military identities of many of those killed.
In both Gaza and Lebanon, this strategy has produced what researchers describe as a “resistance society” — a system in which operatives simultaneously hold civilian professions that provide both legitimacy and operational cover.
Journalism is among the most visible examples.
In Gaza alone, more than 100 terrorists operating under the cover of journalism have reportedly been killed by the IDF since October 7. Meanwhile, Hezbollah-affiliated media figures in Lebanon are routinely portrayed by international outlets as innocent civilians or independent reporters.
But the evidence does not come solely from Israel.
Again and again, Hamas, Islamic Jihad, and Hezbollah themselves publish martyrdom posters identifying deceased operatives not only by their military affiliations, but also by their civilian professions.
The pattern is striking: terrorists simultaneously serving as doctors, teachers, paramedics, police officers, lawyers, musicians, and journalists.
Hospitals as Operational Cover

International media coverage has consistently framed Israeli military operations near hospitals as attacks on civilian medical infrastructure. But Hamas and Islamic Jihad have repeatedly embedded operatives inside those facilities, stripping them of protected civilian status under the laws of armed conflict.
Hospitals in Gaza have allegedly functioned not only as treatment centers, but also as operational hubs, weapons storage sites, and cover for terrorist activity. Many individuals publicly described as “medical workers” were later identified by terror organizations themselves as operatives.
One prominent example is Marwan Al-Hams, identified as a Hamas operative who was detained in July 2025 over suspected knowledge regarding the whereabouts of fallen IDF officer Lt. Hadar Goldin.
Palestinian and pro-Palestinian media initially portrayed his detention as the “abduction” of a medical professional — coverage that largely disappeared once his Hamas affiliation became public.
Not only is Hams a member of Hamas, he is also a doctor. He was captured in July 2024. Palestinian media decried the incident as an abduction of medical personnel by Israel. https://t.co/aOO6D9nLPW pic.twitter.com/3PPXBuY3Bi
— Joe Truzman (@JoeTruzman) November 20, 2025
Other documented cases include:
- Ayman Abu Teir, identified as an Islamic Jihad commander.
- Khaled Al-Rakiei, who led the Islamic Jihad in the western Gaza Strip while working as a doctor in Al-Nasr Children’s Hospital.
- Murshid Abu Abdullah, identified as a commander in Islamic Jihad’s Khan Younis Brigade and the managing director of the al-Baraka Specialized Health Center, as well as a radiology technician at al-Shifa Hospital in Gaza City.
- Rami Talal Mohammed Jarghoun, a commander in Islamic Jihad’s al-Balad Battalion’s Support Unit within the Khan Younis Brigade and an administrative supervisor at the European Hospital in Khan Younis.
- Najm Abu al-Jibeen, a Qassam commander who worked as a nurse.
- Salem Juma Ishaq Sharab, a commander in Islamic Jihad’s Military Ambulance Unit in the Khan Younis Brigade, a nurse at Nasser Hospital, and treasurer of the Palestinian Nursing Association.
- Diaa Nafez Abdulhadi Felfel, a commander in Islamic Jihad’s Military Ambulance Unit in its Northern Brigade, and a nurse and the emergency room supervisor for the Indonesian Hospital in north Gaza.
Ambulances and Emergency Services
The same pattern extends to paramedics and emergency medical services.
Hezbollah operates its own medical infrastructure through the Islamic Health Authority, whose personnel have been identified as Hezbollah operatives.
Hezbollah announces the deaths of two paramedics of their Islamic Health Authority, killed in an Israeli strike in southern Lebanon. pic.twitter.com/NrSkke81bp
— Emanuel (Mannie) Fabian (@manniefabian) January 11, 2024
Evidence has suggested that the ambulances are used to transport terrorists between locations discreetly. The IDF has additionally released videos displaying weapons in ambulances.
Hamas has similarly exploited ambulances. Ibrahim Abu Tzakar, a Hamas-affiliated terrorist who participated in the kidnapping of an Israeli civilian, also worked as a paramedic.
The Classroom-to-Terror Pipeline

While Israel has been accused of “scholasticide,” mounting evidence points to extensive terrorist entrenchment within Gaza’s educational infrastructure.
Teachers and professors have repeatedly been identified as Hamas, Islamic Jihad, or Hezbollah operatives. Some UNRWA-affiliated teachers were allegedly involved in the October 7 attacks themselves.
A second recording published by the IDF is a conversation in which an Islamic Jihad terrorist employed as a teacher in an UNRWA school states that he is inside Israel during the October 7 Hamas-led terrorist attacks. pic.twitter.com/wwh69m13o8
— Joe Truzman (@JoeTruzman) March 4, 2024
Among the documented examples:
- Muhammad Ghafour, an Arabic teacher in an UNRWA school and a Hamas member.
- Fathi al-Sharif, a Hamas commander in Lebanon who also headed UNRWA’s teachers’ union there.
- Dr. Riyad Abu Hashish, a university history professor, and Mahmoud Ahmed Abu Shamala, a physics teacher, were senior Islamic Jihad terrorists.
- Ali Jaafar Marji, a Hezbollah operative, also worked as a physics teacher in Hezbollah’s independent education system.

The consequences extend beyond staffing.
Children as young as 13 have reportedly appeared in the ranks of Hamas and Islamic Jihad, underscoring the extent to which extremist ideology has permeated educational and social systems.
Hamas and Gaza’s Security Apparatus

Hamas’ integration into civilian institutions extends deeply into Gaza’s police and internal security infrastructure.
The terror group has reportedly sought to incorporate 10,000 police officers into a future governing framework in Gaza despite many officers maintaining affiliations with Hamas or other terror factions.
This overlap helps explain why Israel has repeatedly targeted police infrastructure during the war.
This is Mohannad Tafesh, a Hamas member who was killed during the October 7 attack. His death isn’t notable per se.
What is notable is that he was also a police officer. It adds to the mountain of evidence that Hamas has ties to all security bodies in Gaza. pic.twitter.com/PgECqI41s9
— Joe Truzman (@JoeTruzman) May 6, 2026
Cases cited include:
- Ahmed Hanafi Ahmed Abu Tarabish, who was an Islamic Jihad commander in the Northern Brigade’s Surveillance Unit and also a police captain.
- Muhammad Abdul Rahman, who was a member of another security body that operated under Hamas’ Ministry of Interior.
- Sabri Mutawaq and Mohannad Tafesh, who both took part in the attacks on October 7, 2023, were police officers.
Terror Embedded Across Civil Society
The phenomenon is not confined to healthcare, education, or policing.
Terror organizations also benefit from embedding operatives in professions that carry social legitimacy or cultural influence.
Examples include:
- Hussein Osama Hussein Nasir, who was a Hamas field commander and lawyer.
- Ahmed Akram Saeed al-Haitham and Mahmoud Mohammed Shehadeh Khattab, who were Islamic Jihad platoon commanders and lawyers.
- Ahmad Allawiya, who was a Hezbollah operative and lawyer.
- Hamza Abu Qenas, who was a musician and a Qassam Brigades terrorist.
- Ali al-Mahoozi, who was a Bahraini sheikh fighting as a Hezbollah operative.
These dual identities help terrorist organizations blur the line between civilian and combatant while strengthening their entrenchment inside society.
When terrorist organizations systematically embed themselves within civilian infrastructure, that fact is not incidental — it is central to understanding the conflict.
Much of the evidence documenting these affiliations comes directly from Hamas, Islamic Jihad, and Hezbollah themselves. Their own martyrdom announcements repeatedly reveal that many individuals later described internationally as “civilians” were active members of terror organizations leading double lives inside civilian society.
The question is whether international media outlets are willing to acknowledge the pattern — or whether they will continue reporting only half the story.
The author is a contributor to HonestReporting, a Jerusalem-based media watchdog with a focus on antisemitism and anti-Israel bias — where a version of this article first appeared.



