Uncategorized
‘There was no time to sleep’: 4 Jews reflect on a year of helping Ukrainians at war
(JTA) — In the months after Russian tanks rolled into her country last February, the music largely stopped for Elizaveta Sherstuk.
The founder of a Jewish choral ensemble called Aviv in her hometown of Sumy, in the northeastern flank of Ukraine, Sherstuk had to put singing aside in favor of her day job and personal mission: delivering aid to Jews in Sumy.
“There was no time to sleep,” Sherstuk recalled to the Jewish Telegraphic Agency recently. “All my team members worked the same, 24/7.”
A year later, Sherstuk is still hustling as the Sumy director of Hesed, a network of welfare centers serving needy Jews in the former Soviet bloc. But she has also begun teaching music classes again, too — with performances sometimes held in bomb shelters.
Catch up on all of JTA’s Ukraine war coverage from the last year here.
Sherstuk’s story reflects the ways that Russia’s war on Ukraine has affected Jews in Ukraine and beyond. The conflict has killed hundreds of thousands, left even more in peril and fundamentally altered the landscape and population of Ukraine, forcing millions to flee as refugees.
But the war has also mobilized the networks of Jewish aid and welfare groups across Europe, leading to a Jewish organizational response on a massive scale not seen in decades. And Ukrainian Jews who have remained in the country have recalibrated their lives and communities for wartime.
Here are four stories about Jews who stepped in and stepped up to help, and a taste of the on-the-ground situations they found themselves in.
‘I was needed there’
Enrique Ginzburg, second from right, is shown with Ukrainian doctors in Lviv. (Courtesy of Ginzburg)
Since nearly drowning at 23, Dr. Enrique Ginzburg has felt he “had to pay back” for the extra years of life he was granted.
Now 65, the professor of surgery at the University of Miami’s Miller School of Medicine and its trauma division has lent his critical care expertise in Haiti, Argentina, Kurdistan and Iraq, in various emergency situations. But until last year, he had never been to a war zone.
The Cuba native felt drawn to Ukraine because his grandfather is from Kyiv, while his grandmother is from nearby eastern Poland. So early on in the conflict, he called Dr. Aaron Epstein, an old friend and the founder of the nonprofit Global Surgical and Medical Supply Group.
“Get yourself a flak jacket, a helmet, a gas mask and come on over,” Ginzburg said Epstein told him.
He has been to Ukraine twice under the nonprofit’s auspices, last April and July. Ginzburg’s explanation for why he flew across the world to put himself in danger: “I was needed,” he said.
His base was an emergency hospital in Lviv, a city located west enough that it became a major refugee hub. He consulted with front-line Ukrainian physicians, many of them young and inexperienced, and hospital administrators, watching the doctors in action. He also visited patients in hospital wards and helped to treat gunshot wounds and assorted combat injuries.
Ginzburg’s bags were packed with meaningful supplies. Some had been requested by his Ukrainian colleagues for medical use, mostly specialized catheters. But he also brought tefillin, the phylacteries used by Jews in their morning prayers. Ginzburg, who studied in a yeshiva while young but no longer considers himself Orthodox, wrapped them every day while in Ukraine.
Even though Lviv was far from the fighting, he could hear air raid sirens and the explosion of the Russian missiles, sometimes feeling the earth shake. When intelligence reports warned Ginzburg’s medical team of impending missile attacks, they sought refuge in safe houses.
“Today,” he told the Miami Herald last June, “I was calling my life insurance [company] because I have young sons and my wife, so I’m trying to make sure I have good coverage.”
By the end of his trips, Ginzburg lost count of the number of doctors he helped train and the number of patients he saw. “I’m sure it’s hundreds.” He plans to make a third trip sometime this year.
‘This is our new reality’
Karina Sokolowska is the director of the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee’s activities in Poland. (Courtesy of the JDC)
As the director of the JDC, or the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee, in Poland, Karina Sokolowska has heard countless harrowing stories over the past year. But one sticks out in her memory.
It involved an elderly Ukrainian couple she met at the Poland-Ukraine border in late spring. The husband was in a wheelchair, and Sokolowska helped push him — back towards Ukraine. They had spent three months in a shelter in Poland but eventually “realized we cannot go looking for jobs, we cannot restart our lives. We are too old,” the woman said.
“If they are to die, they’d rather die back home,” Sokolowska said. “It’s a story of hopelessness. They are so vulnerable.”
Last year, about 8 million Ukrainian refugees made their way to Poland, the bordering country that accepted the most refugees. Early on in the conflict, Sokolowska contacted and visited Jewish communities throughout Poland, investigating the availability of places where the soon-to-be-homeless refugees could be housed. She also traveled to some of the border crossings where the Ukrainians entered, to arrange transportation to venues in Poland and to oversee the conditions in which the refugees would begin their new lives.
Later she would help with, among other things: arranging legal advice for the people who arrived with few identification documents; lining up medical care and drugs; finding them short- and long-term housing; connecting them to psychological counseling; providing kosher meals; and even caring for the refugees’ pets (“dogs and cats with no documents”).
According to JDC statistics, the organization “provided essential supplies and care” to 43,000 Jews in Ukraine and “aided 22,000+ people” there with “winter survival needs … more than double the amount served in previous years.” The welfare organization also claimed to provide “life-saving services” to more than 40,000 refugees in Poland, Moldova, Romania, Hungary, Bulgaria and other European locations. It also helped evacuate about 13,000 Jews from Ukraine. (Israeli Foreign Minister Eli Cohen recently said 15,000 Ukrainian Jews in total have immigrated to Israel since the start of the war.)
Karina Sokolowska, JDC director for Poland and Scandinavia sits in her office down the hall from a hotline room, in early March 2022. (Toby Axelrod)
At the height of the refugee flood, Sokolowska said her monthly JDC budget ballooned to more than what she previously spent in an entire year. Her office went from having a few employees to over 20. The amount of sleep she got decreased in tandem; she started taking sleeping pills to get rest when she could.
“This is our new reality” in Poland, she says of the JDC work with Ukrainian refugees. “This is our life now.”
Sokolowska, the granddaughter of Yiddish-speaking Holocaust survivors, became active in Jewish life during college, when a classmate heard her pronouncing some German words with a Yiddish accent and persuaded her to lead the Polish Union of Jewish Students. As JDC director for Scandinavian countries in addition to Poland, she typically organizes educational conferences and helps Jewish families learn about traditions they had not learned while growing up in the communist era.
Today, her sense of optimism has been ground down.
“Everything changed when war came to Ukraine — there is less hope,” Sokolowska said. “It’s a totally new everything. Every aspect of our life changed. Our hope for this to be over soon is going down, down, down. Nothing will change.”
‘It could [have been] me’
Tom and Darlynn Fellman volunteered in Krakow in October 2022. (Courtesy of Tom Fellman)
Sometime in the late 1890s, Harry Fellman, about 20 years old, left his home in Ukraine. According to family legend, he was a sharpshooter in the Ukrainian army and was about to be sent into active combat. Instead, he emigrated to the United States and settled in Omaha, Nebraska, where he became a peddler.
His grandson Tom Fellman — whose middle name is Harry — doesn’t know all the 120-year-old details, but he knows that he is grateful that Harry Fellman decided to leave Ukraine when he did.
“It could [have been] me, if my grandparents had not left when they did,” said Fellman, a successful real estate developer and philanthropist in Omaha.
In October, at 78 years old, Fellman made the reverse trip across the Atlantic to pitch in to the relief effort. He also wanted to pay what he sees as a debt to the memory of his late grandfather and to help the current generation of Ukrainian Jews.
He and his wife Darlynn served as volunteers for a week at the Krakow Jewish community center, joining hundreds (possibly thousands) of volunteers from overseas who have gone to Poland and the other nations in the region over the last year to participate in humanitarian programs on behalf of the millions of Ukrainian refugees. Fellman worked nine hours a day with a half-dozen fellow foreign volunteers in the basement of the community center, transferring the contents of “big, big” sacks of items like potatoes and sugar into small containers to be distributed to refugees in the building’s first-floor food pantry. His wife spent her time in an art therapy program that was set up for the refugee mothers and children to raise their spirits.
Fellman is “not particularly religious” but supports “anything Jewish.” In 1986, he accompanied a rescue mission plane of Soviet Jews headed to Israel. “It was the most rewarding experience of my life,” he recalled.
Fellman says he plans to return to Poland, in June, for the JCC’s annual fundraising bike ride from Auschwitz to Krakow.
What did his friends think of his septuagenarian volunteer stint? “They thought it was cool,” he said. “But none of them are going too.”
‘Everything was a risk’
Elizaveta Sherstuk runs a branch of Hesed, a network of welfare centers, in Sumy, Ukraine. (Courtesy of Sherstuk)
Sherstuk’s parents would have sent their daughter to a Jewish school in her early years if they had had the option. But Jewish education was not permitted In Sumy during the final years of communist rule in the Soviet republic. Sherstuk was exposed to Jewish life only at home.
Her parents infused her with a Jewish identity, she said, and her grandparents used to talk and sing songs in Yiddish. That inspired Sherstuk’s first career as a singer and a music teacher, during which she founded Aviv and took it on tour throughout the region singing traditional Jewish songs. Later, she became the director of Sumy’s branch of the JDC-funded Hesed network.
Sumy, an industrial city with a population of 300,000 before the war situated only 30 miles from the Russian border, was one of Russia’s first targets. In the days before the pending invasion, Sherstuk stockpiled food, which was certain to become scarce in case of war, and arranged bus transportation to safer parts of the country for hundreds of vulnerable civilians, mostly the elderly and disabled. The bus plan fell through for safety issues.
As the bombing started, it became dangerous for members of the local 1,000-member Jewish community, many of them elderly, to venture outside of their apartments. Sherstuk, working out of a bomb shelter, assisted by a Hesed network of volunteers, coordinated food and medicine deliveries.
The situation grew more dire, and she coordinated the Jewish community’s participation in a brief humanitarian corridor evacuation of vulnerable civilians that the Russians permitted. She communicated with Sumy residents mostly by smartphones provided by the JDC — the Russian attacks had cut the landlines — and accompanied the busloads of Sumy Jews to western Ukraine. Some of them eventually moved on to Israel, Germany, or other nearby countries, she said.
Sherstuk stayed in western Ukraine for a while (“The humanitarian corridors are only for one-way trips,” she noted), moving from place to place, keeping in touch with the Jews of Sumy and waiting for Ukraine’s army to make the trip back safe. But Sumy, like many Ukrainian cities, has come under frequent Russian rocket attack.
“Everything was a risk,” she said. “We were following whatever our hearts told us to do. We had to save people. I was the one who had to do it.”
Last May, Sherstuk was among 12 men and women (and the sole one from the Diaspora) who lit a torch at the start of Israel’s Independence Day in a government ceremony on Mount Herzl. During two weeks in Israel, she spent some time with members of her family, and held a series of meetings with JDC officials, government ministers and donors. “It was not a vacation,” she said.
After going back to Sumy, at the suggestions of her choral group members and fellow Sumy residents, she organized concerts in Hebrew, Yiddish, Ukrainian and Russian — some in person, some in a bomb shelter in the city’s central square, some online. She has now resumed her music classes, too, and it has all boosted morale. “I [teach] all the time,” she said.
—
The post ‘There was no time to sleep’: 4 Jews reflect on a year of helping Ukrainians at war appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Uncategorized
Netanyahu Coalition Pushes Contentious Oct. 7 Attack Probe, Families Call for Justice
Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu participates in the state memorial ceremony for the fallen of the Iron Swords War on Mount Herzl, Jerusalem on Oct. 16, 2025. Photo: Alex Kolomoisky/POOL/Pool via REUTERS
Israel‘s parliament gave the initial go-ahead on Wednesday for a government-empowered inquiry into the surprise October 7, 2023 attack by Hamas terrorists on southern Israel rather than the expected independent investigation demanded by families of the victims.
Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has resisted calls to establish a state commission to investigate Israel‘s failures in the run-up to its deadliest day and has taken no responsibility for the attack that sparked the two-year Gaza war.
His ruling coalition voted on Wednesday to advance a bill which grants parliament members the authority to pick panel members for an inquiry and gives Netanyahu’s cabinet the power to set its mandate.
Critics say the move circumvents Israel‘s 1968 Commissions of Inquiry Law, under which the president of the Supreme Court appoints an independent panel to investigate major state failures such as those which preceded the 1973 Yom Kippur war.
Survivors and relatives of those hurt in the Hamas attack have launched a campaign against the proposed probe, saying only a state commission can bring those accountable to justice.
“This is a day of disaster for us all,” said Eyal Eshel, who lost his daughter when Hamas militants overran the army base where she served. “Justice must be done and justice will be done,” he said at the Knesset, before the vote.
Surveys have shown wide public support for the establishment of a state commission into the country’s biggest security lapse in decades.
Netanyahu said on Monday that a panel appointed in line with the new bill, by elected officials from both the opposition and the coalition, would be independent and win broad public trust.
But Israel‘s opposition has already said it will not cooperate with what it describes as an attempt by Netanyahu’s coalition to cover up the truth rather than reveal it, arguing that the investigation would ultimately be controlled by Netanyahu and his coalition.
The new bill says that if the politicians fail to agree on the panel, its make-up will be decided by the head of parliament, who is allied with Netanyahu and is a member of his Likud party.
Jon Polin, whose son Hersh Goldberg-Polin was taken hostage and found slain by his captors with five other hostages in a Hamas tunnel in August 2024, said only a trusted commission could restore security and unite a nation still traumatized.
“I support a state commission, not to see anyone punished and not because it will bring back my only son, no. I support a state commission so that nothing like what happened to my son, can ever happen to your son, or your daughter, or your parents,” Polin said on Sunday at a news conference with other families.
Hersh Goldberg-Polin was among dozens of hostages taken in the 2023 attack from the site of the Nova music festival.
Uncategorized
Christmas Celebrations Muted at Bondi as Australians Grieve After Deadly Shooting
People attend the ‘Light Over Darkness’ vigil honoring victims and survivors of a deadly mass shooting during a Jewish Hanukkah celebration at Bondi Beach on Dec. 14, in Sydney, Australia, Dec. 21, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Hollie Adams
Christmas celebrations were muted at Sydney’s famed Bondi Beach on Thursday in the aftermath of a terror attack that killed 15 people there more than a week ago, as the community continued to grapple with the country’s deadliest mass shooting in nearly three decades.
Police patrolled across the beachfront in Bondi, a traditional Christmas destination, as hundreds of people, many wearing Santa hats, gathered on the sands.
“I think it’s tragic, and I think everybody respects and is very sad for what happened, and I think people here are out on the beach, because it’s like a celebration but everybody has got it in their memories and everybody is respectful of what happened,” British tourist Mark Conroy told Reuters.
“Everyone is feeling for the family and friends who are going through the worst possible thing you could imagine.”
The gun attack on December 14 at a Jewish Hanukkah celebration has prompted calls for stricter gun laws and tougher action against antisemitism, while public gathering rules in Sydney have been tightened under new laws passed on Wednesday.
Beachgoers were seen taking photos next to a Christmas tree while some posed with lifeguards, although windy weather conditions appeared to thin crowds.
“It’s not the best conditions for Christmas Day today, it’s a bit choppy. … so not ideal, but people are still here,” Surf Life Saving Patrol Captain Thomas Hough said.
Flags flew at half mast outside the heritage-listed Bondi Pavilion building near the site of the attack, which police say was allegedly carried out by a father and son, inspired by the militant group Islamic State.
In Melbourne, a car with a “Happy Chanukah!” sign was set alight on Christmas Day in the city’s southeast, with no injuries reported, Australian media reported.
Prime Minister Anthony Albanese, facing mounting criticism from opponents who argue his government has not done enough to curb a rise in antisemitism, called the firebombing of the car “just beyond comprehension.”
“What sort of evil ideology and thoughts at a time like this would motivate someone?,” Albanese told reporters on Thursday.
Since the start of Israel’s war in Gaza in October 2023, there have been attacks against synagogues, Jewish buildings and cars in Australia.
Uncategorized
‘Poles Watching Can Be Proud’: Director Defends Holocaust Film 10-Years in the Making Sparking Backlash in Poland
Pelagia Radecka, featured in “Among Neighbors.” Photo: Courtesy of 8 Above
A documentary that addresses the historic and well-documented murder of hundreds of Holocaust survivors by local Poles in the aftermath of World War II has stirred political controversy within the Eastern European country, but its director told The Algemeiner the film mentions a lot that Poles can be proud of.
“There are stories within the film that Poles can look at and be proud of how those individuals acted during and since World War II,” said Yoav Potash, the Jewish award-winning writer, producer and director of “Among Neighbors.”
“And there are also stories that may make people feel like it’s a shame, that some Poles behaved the way they did,” he added. “And that’s an appropriate and mature response. To look at the history of your own nation and say, ‘Wow, some of us really failed in our decency and humanity.’”
Potash’s documentary “Among Neighbors” focuses on a handful of particular stories in the small town of Gniewoszów, in north-central Poland, where Jews were murdered by their Polish Catholic neighbors months after the war ended – neighbors whom they once lived peacefully with for centuries before World War II. The film uses hand-drawn animation as well as first-hand testimonies and interviews with Holocaust survivors, locals and World War II experts in Poland to tell the stories of Jews who were liberated at the end of the Holocaust only to be then murdered by local Poles when returning home.
At the heart of the film is Yaacov Goldstein, one of the last living Holocaust survivors from Gniewoszów, and Pelagia Radecka, a local Polish eyewitness who saw Jews murdered in Gniewoszów by her Polish neighbors, six months after the Nazis were defeated. Radecka has fond memories of her Jewish neighbors and at the age of 85, she remains scarred by their murders, and efforts by the murderers and politicians to silence her. She holds on to the hope that she will find the Jewish boy who is the surviving child of two of the victims murdered by local Poles. Goldstein talks in the film about his wartime experiences and the brutal conditions he was forced to endure to survive the Holocaust, which include hiding for two years in a storage compartment so small he could not straighten his legs and escaping execution by a Nazi firing squad because of “a miracle.”
Several elders from Gniewoszów were interviewed for “Among Neighbors” and all but two have since died. The film features their final testimony.
It took Potash 10 years to make “Among Neighbors,” the filmmaker from California told The Algemeiner. He said he was basically “flying under the radar” filming the project in Poland when the country passed a law in 2018 criminalizing any claims that the Polish nation or state was complicit in the Holocaust. The controversial legislation, making it illegal to accuse Poland of colluding with the Nazis, was championed by the ruling nationalist Law and Justice party. The country has a long-standing history of promoting the narrative that Poles were only victims in Nazi-occupied Poland. In November, Polish Member of Parliament Grzegorz Braun declared “Poland is for the Poles” and that Jews “have their own countries” during a speech outside the site of the former Auschwitz concentration camp.
“Among Neighbors” made its world premiere at the Warsaw Jewish Film Festival last year, where it won the festival’s Special Award. Poland’s national public broadcaster TVP aired the film in November and its television premiere garnered well over 100,000 viewers, according to Potash. “Among Neighbors” is still available for viewers in Poland on TVP’s streaming platform.
But on Nov. 16, six days after “Among Neighbors” aired and began streaming in Poland, senior Polish officials and right-wing media outlets condemned both the film and TVP. Agnieszka Jędrzak, undersecretary to Polish President Karol Nawrocki, called the film “anti-Polish historical manipulation” in a post on X. The National Broadcasting Council of Poland (KRRiT) has since launched an investigation into TVP, which is ongoing. So far TVP is standing by its broadcast of the film and has not removed “Among Neighbors” from its streaming platform.
Speaking to The Algemeiner, Potash insisted that “Among Neighbors” is “not an anti-Polish film.”
“I think there is plenty in the film for Poles to look at and be proud of,” he explained. “And that would include the story of the man who forged papers for Jews in Gniewoszów and saved the lives of at least nine people by giving them false papers that could make them appear to be not Jewish, so they can flee Poland and get to safety. In addition to including this story in the film, we contacted Yad Vashem and told them we had someone to add to the Righteous Among the Nations. And we made that happen. In 2018, he was inducted posthumously. We felt like this individual deserves that special honor.”
Potash added that Polish viewers can also be proud of Radecka “because she showed a lot of courage overcoming overwhelming pressure from the murderers, and later the politicians, who tried to silence her.” He criticized “extreme nationalists” in Poland who are “only concerned with the fact that this film also pokes some very large holes in a narrow and oversimplified view that some in Poland have of themselves and their national identity, especially how it relates to World War II.”
The filmmaker said he was not the least bit surprised about the political backlash that the film has received in Poland, considering the “very divided and politically charged atmosphere in Poland, especially around their World War II history.”
“There is a popular national myth in Poland that during World War II, Poles were only heroes or victims. Nothing else,” he said. “I think for many years, children and adults in Poland have largely been taught and fed this myth … Even today, roughly half the country is still clinging to a fantasy version of history that denies the extent to which Poles were complicit in either pointing out to Nazis where Jews were hiding or doing much worse, such as is revealed in my film, which is that some Poles continued to kill Jews even after the war was over, the Nazis were defeated and gone.”
“The reality is that when World War II was over, Holocaust survivors came back to their shtetls [a small Jewish town or village] seeking out others who may have survived, wondering, ‘Can we regroup here? Is it even possible to restart our lives in the towns that we loved and where we’ve lived our entire lives?’ And these murders that took place across Poland told them, ‘Absolutely not. You are not welcome. You cannot restart, you cannot continue life in the shtetl.’”
“Among Neighbors” is currently playing in select US theaters and film festivals. It won the Audience Award at the San Francisco Independent Film Festival, three awards from the Teaneck International Film Festival, and the Jewish Film Institute’s Envision Award. Still, Potash told The Algemeiner that the film has received negative reactions from some streaming platforms and major film festivals. He shared a story of a major streamer that told him the documentary was not “broad enough” for their platform.
“To be not ‘broad enough’ sounds like a nicer way of saying ‘too Jewish,’” Potash said. “I worked really hard to try to make this film as universal as possible. And I think the themes of can we confront out history honestly, even the parts that are difficult, that applies across the board to just about every country and society in the world. Unfortunately, releasing this film during this post-Oct. 7 [2023] environment that been really, really challenging. A lot of major festivals and streamers don’t want to get near content that’s seen as ‘too Jewish.’”
While TVP remains under investigation by the National Broadcasting Council of Poland for airing “Among Neighbors,” Potash encourages Poles to see the documentary for themselves and make their own judgements about the film.
“Don’t believe all the out of context ranting about the film that’s coming from political extremists and historical revisionists in Poland,” he explained. “I think it’s important for people to see this film because it gets into the real complexities of how history actually unfolded. It resists the simple narrative of: ‘We were heroes, and these were the villains, and these were the victims.’ It wasn’t always so black and white; so simple. The real stories that came out of this situation were quite complex. And those simplistic narratives don’t always fit.”
The USC Shoah Foundation — founded in 1994 by Steven Spielberg with the goal of recording, preserving, and sharing testimonies related to the Holocaust — has partnered with the JFCS Holocaust Center to create an educational curriculum so “Among Neighbors” can be used in classrooms as part of Holocaust education. A portion of revenue generated by the film benefits the JFCS Holocaust Center.
Watch the trailer for “Among Neighbors” below.