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U.N. exhibit remembers when the world turned its back on stateless Jewish refugees

(New York Jewish Week) — In 2017, Deborah Veach went back to Germany, looking for the site of the displaced persons camp where she and her parents had been housed after World War II. They were in suspension, between the lives her parents led in Belarus before they were shattered by the Nazis, and the unknown fate awaiting them as refugees without a country.

To her dismay, and despite the fact that Foehrenwald was one of the largest Jewish DP centers in the American-controlled zone of Germany, she found barely a trace. A complex that once included a yeshiva, a police force, a fire brigade, a youth home, a theater, a post office and a hospital was remembered by almost no one except a local woman who ran a museum in a former bath house.

“It was sort of an accident of history that we were there in that particular camp in Germany, of all places, with no ties, no extended family, no place to call home,” said Veach, who was born at Foehrenwald in 1949 and lives in New Jersey. Now, “they renamed it. They changed the names of all the streets. There is nothing recognizable about the fact that it had been a DP camp.”

Veach is part of a now-aging cohort of children born or raised in the DP camps, the last with a first-hand connection to the experience of some 250,000 Jewish survivors who passed through them at the end of the war. To make sure memories of the camps survive them, the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research and the United Nations Department of Global Communications have staged a short-term exhibit, “After the End of the World: Displaced Persons and Displaced Persons Camps.”

On display at U.N. headquarters in New York City Jan. 10 through Feb. 23, it is intended to illuminate “how the impact of the Holocaust continued to be felt after the Second World War ended and the courage and resilience of those that survived in their efforts to rebuild their lives despite having lost everything,” according to a press release.

Residents of a displaced persons camp in Salzburg, Austria. Undated, post-Second World War. (YIVO Institute for Jewish Research)

Among the artifacts on display are dolls created by Jewish children and copies of some of the 70-odd newspapers published by residents, as well as photographs of weddings, theatrical performances, sporting events and classroom lessons.

The exhibit is “about the displaced persons themselves, about their lives and their hopes and their dreams, their ambitions, their initiatives,” said Debórah Dwork, who directs the Center for the Study of the Holocaust, Genocide, and Crimes Against Humanity at the Graduate Center-CUNY, who served as the scholar adviser for the exhibition.

“There’s no point where the residents of these DP camps were just sitting around waiting for other people to do things for them,” she told the New York Jewish Week. “They took initiative and developed a whole range of cultural and educational programs.”

As early as 1943, as the war displaced millions of people, dozens of nations came to Washington and signed onto the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Authority. (Despite its name, it preceded the founding of the U.N.) After the war, the British and U.S. military were in charge of supplying food, protection and medical care in hundreds of camps throughout Germany and Austria, and UNRRA administered the camps on a day-to-day basis.

Early on, Jewish Holocaust survivors — some who suffered in concentration camps, others who had escaped into the Soviet Union — were put in DP camps alongside their former tormentors, until the U.S. agreed to place them in separate compounds. Unable or unwilling to return to the countries where they had lost relatives, property and any semblance of a normal life, they began a waiting game, as few countries, including the United States, were willing to take them in, and Palestine was being blockaded by the British.

Abiding antisemitism was not the only reason they remained stateless. “Jews were [accused of being] subversives, communists, rebels, troublemakers, and the world war quickly gave way to cold war, and with it the notion that Hitler had been defeated and what we have to worry about is the communists,” David Nasaw, author of “The Last Million,” a history of the displaced persons, told the New York Jewish week in 2020.

In 1948 and 1950, Congress grudgingly passed legislation that allowed 50,000 Jewish survivors and their children to come to the United States. The rest were eventually able to go to Israel, after its independence in 1948.

The U.N. exhibit focuses less on this macro history — which includes what became another refugee crisis for the Palestinians displaced by Israel’s War for Independence — than on life in the DP camps.

“The exhibition illustrates how the displaced persons did not shrink from the task of rebuilding both their own lives and Jewish communal life,” said Jonathan Brent, chief executive officer at YIVO, in a statement.

Among those rebuilding their lives were Max Gitter and his parents, Polish Jews who had the perverse good luck of being exiled to Siberia during the war. The family made its way to Samarkand, in Uzbekistan, where Gitter was born in 1943. After the war ended, his parents returned to Poland, but repelled by antisemitism sought refuge in the American zone in Germany. They spent time in the Ainring DP camp, a former Luftwaffe base on the Austrian border, and at a small camp called Lechfeld, about 25 miles west of Munich.

Dolls made by stateless Jewish children residing in a DP camp near Florence, Italy, known as “Kibbutz HaOved.” The dolls are attired in local costumes based on the districts of the Tuscan city of Sienna. (YIVO Institute for Jewish Research)

“I was there until we came to the United States when I was six and a half, so I have some very distinct memories and some hazy memories,” said Gitter, emeritus director and vice chair of the YIVO board. One story he hasn’t forgotten is how his father and a friend were walking through the camp when they came upon a long line of people. “They were from the Soviet Union, so they knew that when there’s a line that it might be of interest.” It turned out to be a line for the lottery that would allow them to get into the United States under the Displaced Persons Act of 1948.

The family came to the United States in 1950, to “pretty shabby lodgings” in the Bronx, before his father bought a candy store and moved to Queens. Max went on to attend Harvard College and Yale Law School, and became a corporate litigator.

Gitter’s brother was born in one of the camps, and the exhibit includes a poster depicting the population increase between 1946 and 1947 at the Jewish DP center Bad Reichenhall. The birthrate in the camps has often been described as evidence of the optimism and defiance of the survivors, but Dwork said the truth is somewhat more complicated.

“There was a very high birth rate among the Jews in DP camps. This is the age group of reproductive age, at 20 to 40,” she said. “However, this image of fecundity hides what was rumored to be a significant abortion rate, too. And women had experienced years of starvation. Menstruation had only recently recommenced. So many women, in fact, miscarried or had trouble conceiving to begin with.”

A chart by artist O. Lec depicts the natural population increase of the Jewish Center Bad Reichenhall, Germany, 1946-1947. There was a very high birth rate among the Jews in DP camps. (YIVO Institute for Jewish Research)

“There is no silver lining here,” she added. “People live life on many levels. On the one hand, DPs look to the future and look with hope; at the same time, they carry tremendous burdens of pain and suffering and trauma and trepidations about the future.”

Veach, a member of the YIVO board, hopes visitors to the exhibit understand that such trauma is hardly a thing of the past.

“I think the real lesson is that history keeps repeating itself,” said Veach, growing emotional. “Basically we have DPs on our border with Mexico, you have DPs from Ukraine. I don’t think people realize the repercussions for these people who are trying to find a place to live. These are good people who are just placed where they are by history.”

Gitter, who like Veach will speak at an event Jan. 24 at the U.N. marking the exhibit, also hopes “After the End of the World” prods the consciences of visitors.

“A lot of the countries, a lot of places, including the United States, would not accept Jews after the war,” he said. “The issue of memory, the issue of statelessness, the issue of finally there was some hope for the Jews in their immigration to Israel and the United States — that part of the story also needs to be told.”

“After the End of the World: Displaced Persons and Displaced Persons Camps” is on view from Jan. 10-Feb. 23, 2023, at the United Nations Headquarters, 405 E 42nd St, New York, Monday-Friday, 9:00 a.m.-5:00 p.m. Entrance to the United Nations Visitor Centre in New York is free, but there are requirements for all visitors. See the United Nations Visitor Centre entry guidelines.

—
The post U.N. exhibit remembers when the world turned its back on stateless Jewish refugees appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.

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The ‘Seinfeld’ cast reunites (but not really) to address Israel’s elections

Jerry Seinfeld, Elaine Benes, George Costanza and Cosmo Kramer are weighing in on next week’s Israeli elections.

AI deepfakes of them, that is, who appear in a new, three-minute clip, looking and sounding almost exactly like they did on the classic TV show.

But unlike the torrent of noxious fakes from Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and his allies, this one is a force for good: smart satire that captures the urgency of this moment for Israeli democracy, and the hope and anxiety bubbling up among all those who fear for it, including me.

Researchers at the Open University of Israel’s “Ze Be AI” project have identified thousands of AI-generated posts by Israeli parties and politicians, with Netanyahu’s Likud responsible for more than any other.

For example, Netanyahu posted an AI ad showing Gadi Eisenkot, his chief political rival, shunning a young man resembling Eisenkot’s son Gal, killed in Gaza, to instead embrace Arab leader Mansour Abbas. National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir shared an AI video depicting emaciated Palestinians in what looks like a concentration camp. Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich’s party circulated AI scenes of Israel’s Supreme Court president and attorney general being dragged through burning streets.

These videos put real people in scenes that never happened. They depict violence and turbocharge hatred against Arab citizens of Israel and Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza. They are designed to mislead and incite, many times with no disclosure to viewers that what they are watching is fake.

The Seinfeld clip is different.

In it, Jerry, Elaine, George and Kramer sit around their diner booth discussing Elaine’s latest boyfriend — who happens to be a big fan of Bibi.

“Elaine, you can’t rule a guy out just because he’s pro-corruption, the establishment of a messianic dictatorship, and dismantling the only Jewish state in the world,” says Kramer.

When Elaine balks at voting, Jerry tries reverse psychology: “Don’t vote, Elaine. Fine by me. But later, when the dictatorship starts, don’t come crying to us.”

The group rattles off the complaints they predict are imminent. Some are absurd: “Why can I only ride on a kosher bike?” Others describe what Israel is already becoming: “Why can’t I say what I think?” “Why is everyone relocating? Why are there no doctors?”

Elaine relents — “I’ll vote, you nudniks” — but when Jerry mentions the date of the elections, it turns out Elaine won’t be in the country. She’ll be in Berlin, at a conference.

The topic? The collapse of Western democracies.

All of this is classic Seinfeld: Kramer’s grandiose pronouncements, the petty grievances, the ironic twist with the Berlin conference.

Yes, it’s a deepfake of beloved characters. The lack of an AI label for the entire duration of the clip may violate Israeli election rules. A caption toward the end implores Israelis, “You Have a Country to Save. Move Your Tuches. Go Vote,” but omits the creator. More transparency would have been better.

But no one watching is meant to think Kramer has views on Israeli coalition politics. These are characters from a decades-old show talking about Israeli elections today. It includes an explicit note that it’s satire. And whereas the Israeli right’s videos depict things that didn’t happen, the references in the clip to crackdowns on speech and mass emigration are all verifiable.

Though no creator for the Seinfeld video is formally listed, it resembles the work of Hagai Lapid, a Tel Aviv–based director and comedy writer who previously spent 14 years at Keshet 12, Israel’s most-watched TV channel, and co-created a string of mockumentaries and wrote for the satirical puppet show Chartzufim. At least one Facebook post credits Lapid as the Seinfeld clip’s creator. Lapid recently posted a viral AI deepfake of British actor Gary Oldman, in character as Jackson Lamb from Apple TV’s Slow Horses, urging Israelis to vote.

Both the Slow Horses video and the Seinfeld clip feel different from AI slop flooding the web because the scripts are well-written and use levity as a lead-in to more serious claims and demands. They can flit across WhatsApp groups and social media in a way that no stern warning about authoritarianism can.

The entire election may hinge on a few votes. Tens of thousands of Israeli expats are planning to fly back to head to the polls. As they prepare to travel to Israel, friends who live there are planning moves abroad should the election leave the far right in power. The Seinfeld clip is aimed at all of these voters.

Seinfeld has been famously described as a “show about nothing,” less a verdict on its quality and more a nod to the way the show finds depth in the mundane. Larry David, Seinfeld’s co-creator, had a core rule : “No hugging, no learning.” Seinfeld’s characters were written to be self-interested, oblivious to the impact they have on the world around them.

This clip violates that rule. It is a call to action, delivered with the best of Jewish gallows humor, the kind that laughs as it sees the axe that may fall, but contains a seed of hope that things may just yet go the other way. Towards the end, a fictional Jerry breaks the fourth wall to plead with the audience:

“What you just saw was satire. Obviously, we don’t vote in Israeli elections. But you Israelis, if you don’t want to turn into a Jewish version of Iran, or collapse and vanish like Nokia or Crocs, all you have to do is move your tuches off your couch and go vote.”

 

The post The ‘Seinfeld’ cast reunites (but not really) to address Israel’s elections appeared first on The Forward.

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The latest issue of the Hasidic magazine ‘Chvalyes’ discusses psychedelic drugs

ערגעץ װוּ אױף דער ייִדישער װעלט, אָדער דער ייִדיש־װעלט, דאַרף זיך געפֿינען אַ פֿאָרשער װאָס זאָל זיך אָפּגעבן מיט דער נײַער געשיכטע פֿון דער חסידישער ליטעראַטור, בפֿרט מיט אירע עליות און ירידות, די פּערזענלעכקײטן און אַנשטאַלטן.

אַ נײַע און פֿאַרכאַפּנדיקע חסידישע אױסגאַבע איז תּמיד אַ סיבה זיך צו אַנגזאַזשירן מיט דער דאָזיקער געשיכטע, צו פֿאַרשטײן פֿאַר װאָס ס׳איז כּדאַי דאָס צו לײענען מיט קאָפּ.

טאַקע דערפֿאַר וועל איך הײַנט שרײַבן וועגן „כוואַליעס“  — אַ נײַעם זשורנאַל, וואָס איך האָב הײַיאָר מיטגענומען אין שיל אַרײַן װי לײענװאַרג בעת די לאַנגע יום־טובֿ־דרשות.

ס׳איז פֿאַראַן אַזאַ סטערעאָטיפּ בײַ ייִדישיסטן (און מיט דעם בין איך אױסן נישט־חסידישע ייִדיש־רעדערס און ליבהאָבערס פֿון ייִדיש), אַז חסידיש ייִדיש האָט נאָר צו טאָן מיט גאָר פֿרומע זאַכן, נאָר טעמעס װאָס גוטע פֿרומע לײַט װאָלטן אָנגענומען.

ס׳איז אָבער נישט אַזױ. דורך די אַלע גילגולים פֿון דער אַמעריקאַנער חסידישער ליטעראַטור — זאָל זײַן בלאָגס, װעבזײַטלעך (צום בײַשפּיל „אײַװעלט“ אָדער דער שױן אונטערגעגאַנגענער „קאַװע־שטיבעל“), אָדער אין אַ רײ קורציאָריקע אָבער דאָך לעבעדיקע זשורנאַלן — איז דער אינטערעסאַנטסטער אינהאַלט, לױט מײַן מיינונג, נישט די עסײען װעגן דער חסידישער געשיכטע, אָדער מעשׂיות פֿון צדיקים און רביים, נאָר דװקא די גבֿית־עדותן פֿון טאָגטעגלעכע קאָנפֿליקטן.

געװען אַ מאָל „װעקער“ (דאָרט האָב איך אָפּגעדרוקט אַ פּאָר שטיקלעך, װאָס דאָס איז אַלײן אַ סימן פֿון אָפֿנקײט — װי אָפֿט לײענען די ייִדישיסטן און די חסידים אײנער דעם צװײטן?), און דערנאָך איז מען אַריבער אױף אַ נײַער פּובליקאַציע, „כװאַליעס“.

סײַ „װעקער“ סײַ „קאַװע שטיבעל“ זײַנען צום באַדויערן מער נישטאָ — דאַכט זיך, מער צוליב פֿינאַנציעלע װי אידעאָלאָגישע סיבות. אַ דאַנק דער מי, און מסתּמא דעם כּוח־הגעלטשאַפֿונג פֿון דער רעדאַקציע, האָט מען אָבער שױן אַרױסגעגעבן העכער אַ טוץ נומערן פֿון „כװאַליעס,“ װאָס איך דערלױב זיך צו זאָגן איז פּראָסט־פּשוט אַ גילגול פֿון „דער װעקער.“

דער נײַער נומער איז אָבער באַזונדערש רײַך און כּדאַי אָנצוקוקן צוליב דעם פֿענצטערל, װאָס ער עפֿנט אױף אין דער חסידישער װעלט אַרײַן. און דװקא אַ פֿענצטערל װאָס װײַזט די טײלן פֿון דער געזעלשאַפֿט װאָס אַ סך װילן, זײ זאָלן בלײַבן באַהאַלטן. װי די רעדאַקציע „כװאַליעס“ באַשרײַבט זײער צײַטשריפֿט, דינט זי ווי אַ פּלאַטפֿאָרמע פֿאַר מאַטעריאַלן „װאָס האָבן נישט קײן געהעריגן פּלאַץ אין די אַלגעמײנע אױסגאַבעס אױף די פּאָליצעס פֿון די הײמישע געשעפֿטן.“

ספּעציעל טשיקאַװע איז די טעמע װאָס פֿאַרנעמט דעם אױבן־אָן פֿון דער איצטיקער פֿילפֿאַרביקער הילע: „סײַקעדעליקס,“ דאָס הײסט, דער באַנוץ פֿון פּסיכעדעלישע סובסאַנצן אין די היימישע קרײַזן און זײער װירקונג אױפֿן יחיד און כּלל.

זיכער, װי אַ דאָקטער און אַ מענטש װאָס איז מער װײניקער באַקאַנט מיט דער הױפּטשטראָמיקער גױיִשער אַמעריקאַנער קולטור, האָב איך געװוּסט אַז די דאָזיקע בשׂמים, צום בײַשפּיל אײַאַהואַסקאַ, קעטאַמין, פּסילאָסײַבין, און אַזױ װײַטער, זײַנען געשטיגן אין פּאָפּולעריטעט. נאָר אַז זײ האָבן אױך אַרײַנגעדרונגען אין בתּי־מדרשים, בײַ רבישע משפּחות און גבֿירישע בעלי־בתּים, װי אױך פּאָרפֿעלקער און סתּם חסידים מיט כּלערלײ פֿאַרלאַנגען און פּראָבלעמען – דאָס האָב איך נישט געװוּסט.

אין דעם עפֿענונג־אַרטיקל װאָס דינט װי אַן אַרײַנפֿיר אין דער טעמע, װערט קלאָר װי פֿאַרשפּרייט ס׳איז שױן געװאָרן די דאָזיקע „סחורה.“ „װער האָט מעדיצין?“ פֿרעגט אײנעם בײַ א שבת־טיש. אַ צװײטער זאָגט אַז ער האָט קעטאַמין, נאָר דער װאָס האָט געבעטן די „מעדיצין,“ באַשרײַבט װײַטער דער מחבר פֿון אַרטיקל, „שטעלט קלאָר אַז ער זוכט דװקא שװעמלעך. עס נעמט נאָך אַ סעקונדע ביז אַ צװײטע ברענגט אַפֿיר די געװוּנטשענע ׳מעדיצין׳, װאָס װערט געגעסן בײַם שבת טיש װי דער אַפֿיקומן בײַם סדר.“

װי אַזױ איז מען געקומען צו דעם? מע פּרוּװט באַקענען דעם לײענער אױף אײן פֿוס מיט דער געשיכטע פֿון פּסיכעדעלקס.  עס װערט ברײט באַהאַנדלט די אַמעריקאַנער געשיכטע פֿון דער יוגנט-קולטור בשעת די 1960ער יאָרן און אירע פֿאַרבינדונגען מיט פֿאַרשײדענע סובסטאַנצן װאָס „ענדערן“ דעם מוח, װי אױך מעגלעכע פּאַראַלעלן צװישן יענער היפּי־װעלט פֿון געזעלשאַפֿטלעכן אױפֿברױז און דער הײַנטיקער װעלט פֿון כעמיש־נײַגעריקע חסידים.

נישט דאָס װערט דערזאָגט, נאָר די דאָזיקע װעלט איז אױך אין מיטן פֿון אַ רײ לאַנג־טערמיניקע און טיף־גרײכיקע בײַטענישן, און דער דאָזיקער סובסטאַנצן־באַנוץ איז זיכער טײלװײַז געװירקט דערפֿון. אײן קעפּל אין דעם אַרטיקל פֿון דער געשיכטע פֿון פּסיכעדעליקס שטעלט אַפֿילו די פֿראַגע, „צי זעכציג־ט זיך יעצט אין דער הײמישער װעלט?“ דאָס הײסט, צי זײַנען הײַנטיקע הסידים געװירקט פֿון יענע פֿאַרטשאַדעטע יאָרן פֿון דער אַמעריקאַנער יוגנט אין די 1960ער?

שטעקט אפֿשר דער גרעסטער חידוש אין דעם, װי אַזױ די שרײַבערס פֿון די אַרטיקלען אױף דער דאָזיקער טעמע טרעטן אַרױס צו זאָגן אַז דעם נושׂא באַהאַנדלט מען אין דעם נומער װײַל די אָנפֿירערס פֿון זײער קהילה גיבן זיך נישט אָפּ דערמיט. מוטיק, נאָר אױך אונטער פּסעװדאָנימען….און אַרױסברענגען די דאָזיקע פֿראַגעס װיל מען אױף אַ געמאָסטענעם, נישט קאָנטראָװערסיעלן אופֿן. װי עס זאָגן די רעדאַקטאָרן, „מיר זענען נישט דאָ צו טױשן קײנעם אָדער צו שטופּן אַגענדעס.“

דער רעשט פֿון דעם פֿעטן נומער איז אָבער אױך װיכטיק. עס נעמט אַרײַן אַן אַרטיקל פֿון אַ חסידיתטע מיטן פּסעוודאָנים „אשת חבֿר“, אונטערן טיטל „אַ פֿעמיניסטקע װאַקסט אין ברוקלין“. די פֿרוי גײט אַדורך אַ קריזיס פֿון אמונה װאָס װערט באַאײַנפֿלוסט אָבער נישט געלײזט פֿון די װערק פֿון מאָדערן־פֿרומע ייִדישע פֿרױען, װאָס האָבן קריטיקרט אױף אַן ענלעכן אופֿן די ייִדישע פּאַטריאַרכיע.

„איך האָב טועם געװען דעם סאָרט אָפֿענעם דזשודאַיִזם,“ שרײַבט „אשת חבֿר“, „און נישט געטראָפֿן דאָרט אידישקײט. מײַן באַשעפֿער האָט אַ חסידישן אַקצענט.“ לסוף באַשליסט זי, אז אפֿשר מוז זי אַלײן אָנשרײַבן אַ בוך װעגן אירע קאָנפֿליקטן. „אױב איז דאָ אַ בוך װאָס דו װילסט לײענען אָבער עס איז נאָכנישט געשריבן געװאָרן, דאַן מוזטו עס אַלײן שרײַבן.“

אַ לענגערע עסײ, ממש אַ מאַמר, פֿון באַװוּסטן שרײַבער קטלא קניא גיט זיך אָפּ מיט דער טעמע פֿון ייִדישן חינוך — נאָך אַ בײַשפּיל פֿון אַ טיפֿזיניקער און שאַרפֿער קריטיק װאָס צילט דװקא אױף די סאַמע יסודות פֿון חסידישן לעבן־שטייגער. דער מחבר פּרוּװט האַלטן דעם באַלאַנס צװישן מוטיקן דעם בחור צו װעמען ער שרײַבט, און אים „טראָסטן“ (װי עס זאָגן די חסידים) אַלײן צו געפֿינען זײַן װעג אין לעבן. „דאָרט איז דיר איצט באַשערט צו זײַן און װען די צײַט װעט קומען װעסטו דאַרפֿן מוזן אַלײן אַרױסקריכן און אױסװאַקסן.“

(אין 2018 האָט קטלא קניא אַרױסגעגעבן אַ גאַנץ בוך וועגן דער דאָזיקער טעמע.דער עסײ אין „כװאַליעס“ איז אַנדערש, געוואָנדן צו אַ יונגן בחור אין ערשטן פּערזאָן, און פֿאָרט איז דאָס אַ באַװײַז, אַז די פֿאַרמאַכטקײט פֿון חינוך איז פֿאַרבליבן אַן אַקטועלע טעמע, װאָס שטערט דעם שרײַבער.)

אַרױסהײבן דאַרף מען אױך אַ ליד װאָס באַשרײַבט אַ פּרטימדיק, און זײער מענטשיש, בילד פֿון דעם רבונו של עולם אַלײן. דער דאָזיקער כּבֿיכול איז „אינספּײַערד“ (אינספּירירט), זאָגט דער פּאָעט, „בײַ משה רבני, אָבאַמאַ, און דשאַן נאַש.“ ער „שמײכלט מיסטעריעז, מאָנאַ ליזאַ.“ כאָטש ער איז אוניװערסאַל, האָט ער דאָך אַ „סאָפֿט ספּאָט פֿאַר זײַן אידיש פֿאָלק.“ פֿירט אױס דער דיכטער, „שמע ישׂראל – דער װאָן ענד אָנלי, ה׳ אחד!“

צװײ באַמערקונגען פּאַסן דאָ װי אַן אױספֿיר. ראשית-כּל, אַז מע האָט געשאַפֿן די נײיטיקע געלטגעבערס פֿאַר אַזאַ נומער איז אַלײן אַ סימן אַז אַן אױסגאַבע פֿאַר אמתער ליטעראַטור, װאָס מע פֿלעגט רופֿן אין אונדזער קרײַזן אַ „ליטעראַרישע געזעלשאַפֿטלעכע צײַטשריפֿט“ איז יאָ פֿאַראַן, זײַט בײַ זײַט מיט די גאָר פֿרומע אָפֿיצעלע אָרגאַנען, שבת־בלעטער, און הײמזשורנאַלן. (מסתּמא נעמען יענע אַרײַן אױך גוטע ליטעראַטור; איך בין פּשוט װײניק באַקאַנט מיט זײ.)

און לסוף, דאַרף איך מודה זײַן אַז ס׳איז אַ מחיה צו לײענען אַ זשורנאַל פֿון ייִדן, װאָס איז נישט 100% אָפּגעגעבן ישׂראל אָדער פּאַלעסטינע. זײַט װיסן אַז יענע טעמע איז מיר לעבנס־װיכטיק, און פֿאָרט, װערט אָפֿט מאָל אױסגעשעפּט יעדן ביסל שאַפֿערישער כּוח פֿון דער דאָזיקער הײסער טעמע.

דעם דאָזיקן זשורנאַל און זײַנע שרײַבערס פֿעלט נישט קײן כּוח, דאַכט זיך. איך קוק אַרױס צו לײענען די קומעדיקע נומערן.

The post The latest issue of the Hasidic magazine ‘Chvalyes’ discusses psychedelic drugs appeared first on The Forward.

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Watch: The cattle farmer building a synagogue in a cornfield

For the past year and a half, we’ve followed Nik Jakobs, a third-generation cattle farmer in Sterling, Illinois, who is building a synagogue in a two-acre cornfield. Alongside it, he is also building a museum of tolerance.

Our coverage began when Nik traveled 600 miles to rescue the ark, bimah and stained glass from a closing congregation in Pennsylvania. After we published our first story about the unlikely journey, additional synagogues began donating their own sacred objects, each from a community that could no longer keep them.

Nik, 41, is the grandson of Holocaust survivors, and the museum is his way of teaching the tolerance that saved his family. His grandmother, Edith, was 11 in 1942 when a Lutheran farmer named Willem Drenth offered the family’s home as a hiding place. She was one of 13 Jews who lived in that single room for two years and eight months, with no electricity and no running water. About a hundred villagers knew about the Jews in hiding. No one said a word.

While in hiding, Edith kept busy by learning to knit. She embroidered a cloth, which survived and will now cover the Torah in Nik’s new synagogue.

This spring, Nik and his family traveled to the Netherlands, where the village staged a play about the family in hiding and the Drenths. They watched actors portray their ancestors, and the Christians who kept their family alive.

Edith died this month at 95. Her voice, trained to a whisper in hiding, never regained its full volume. Her story did.

That story is now drawing others in. The Anne Frank House donates one sapling a year, grown from the chestnut tree Anne saw from her attic hiding place. It has chosen the Illinois synagogue and museum to plant its next one. After visiting Anne’s house with his four daughters, Nik put it this way: “Anne’s story ends. My grandmother’s didn’t.”

Nik and his family broke ground on the sanctuary this spring, on land beside a Lutheran church — the same faith as the farmer who saved his family.

If all goes as planned, the doors open in late 2027. They hope the first service will be the bat mitzvah of Nik’s oldest daughter, Taylor. The pews will hold the congregants of the closing synagogues whose ark, Torah and windows helped build the room, there to see their old homes live again.

Catch up on all of our stories about Nik Jakobs.

The post Watch: The cattle farmer building a synagogue in a cornfield appeared first on The Forward.

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