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Dramatic stories of survival, endurance and escape reign as Ukrainian Jews mark 1 year of war
(JTA) — Most of the passengers on the flight from Chisinua, Moldova, to Tel Aviv earlier this month were subdued.
Some had just witnessed scene after scene of hardship on a tour of war-torn Ukraine organized by the International Fellowship of Christians and Jews. Others, about 90 in all, were Ukrainians in the process of moving permanently to Israel, talking in hushed tones about being on a plane for the first time, their uncertain future and the loved ones they left behind.
Alexei Shkurat was not subdued.
Bespectacled and bearded, he was standing in his seat, making wisecracks that caused the elderly woman in the seat next to him to guffaw despite herself.
“I like joking and communicating. It’s my life, why waste it being nervous?” Shkurat told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency in English.
“And anyway, I’m happy, happy, happy I will soon see my sons again,” he added.
Switching to Russian, Shkurat’s brow furrowed and his voice lowered when he recounted how, on Feb. 28, 2022, he had risked his life to transport his sons, 14 and 12, to the border with Poland with their mother and grandmother. From there they would move to Israel.
Shkurat could not go with them. The borders were closed for military-aged men, so Shkurat was forced to drive back to his hometown of Odessa. What happened next, as he recounts it, was harrowing: As he passed an empty field near Lviv, he encountered two Ukrainian soldiers, their AK-74 rifles trained on him. Shkurat raised his hands and was told to step out of his vehicle. He knew that if he made one false move, he would be shot.
The soldiers searched the car and interrogated him, asking him why he was traveling alone after curfew and even asking if he was a Russian spy. Shkurat later learned that 40 Russian paratroopers had recently landed in the area and had stolen ambulances and police cars. He answered the soldiers in Russian, which only raised their suspicions. Ukrainian is the dominant language in western Ukraine, but as a Jew from Odessa, Shkurat’s native tongue is Russian.
“I was terrified. I know that they were only doing their job, but the situation was so scary. Everything I ever knew in life had changed,” he said.
Catch up on all of JTA’s coverage of the Ukraine War here.
By a considerable stroke of luck, Shkurat, a street artist, was able to prove his identity by showing the soldiers his Instagram page, filled with posts of his art in locations all over Odessa.
But according to Shkurat, the story was far from over. The next chapter of his life was far more hair-raising, he said. Pressed on the details, Shkurat grinned and switched back to English.
“I can’t tell you a thing,” he said. “I want to sell the story to Netflix.”
Whatever cinematic experience Shkurat might have had, his fellow passengers surely had made-for-the-movies stories of their own. They had made it through nearly a year of war before deciding to move to Israel, making them the latest of 5,000 new immigrants from Ukraine facilitated by the International Fellowship of Christians and Jews, working in collaboration with Israeli government entities such as Nativ and the Ministry of Aliyah and Integration. Approximately 15,000 Ukrainians in total have immigrated, or made aliyah, in the last year.
Ukrainian Jewish refugees who fled the war in their country wait on a bus upon arrival at Ben Gurion Airport near Tel Aviv, on an airlift of medically needy passengers made possible by the International Fellowship of Christians and Jews, Dec. 22, 2022. (Gil Cohen-Magen/AFP via Getty Images)
According to the group’s vice president, Gidi Schmerling, if there is any upside to the war from Israel’s perspective, it’s that many middle-class Ukrainians — doctors, engineers and high-tech employees — who wouldn’t have otherwise made aliyah are now choosing to do so.
But IFCJ’s mandate also includes the Jews who stayed behind. Since Russian tanks first rumbled across the border a year ago, the group has raised more than $30 million dollars — primarily from evangelical Christians from North America and Korea — for the main Jewish organizations in Ukraine including the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee, or JDC, and Chabad. (Both groups do extensive fundraising of their own.) This week, the anniversary of Russia’s invasion, it announced another $4 million in planned spending.
In Odessa, more than 7,000 people currently receive aid from IFJC via local Jewish groups. The Jewish community, once 50,000 strong, now stands at 20,000, according to the city’s chief rabbi, Avraham Wolff. Seven thousand food packages are distributed every month in Chabad centers. Many of the beneficiaries are older — among them some 187 Holocaust survivors — but not all. Several hundred are people who were displaced from surrounding cities, such as Mykolaiv, which was hit much harder by Russian shells, and some are the so-called new poor, those for whom the war has plunged into poverty from loss of income and rising inflation.
Ala Yakov Livne, an 86-year-old widow, is one of many who lined up recently to receive a box with oil, flour and other basic necessities. For Livne, the part that stings most about the last year is the sense of betrayal.
“[The Russians] were our neighbors. Many of them were our friends,” she said.
“Times have changed but some things never change,” Livne went on. “Back then, we were under occupation under the Nazis, back then, they tried to kill us, and now again, we are under occupation and they are trying to destroy us.”
Yelena Kuklova survived the Holocaust by being hidden by non-Jewish neighbors. “We started our lives in war and we’re finishing them in war,” she said. (Deborah Danan)
It was a refrain that would be repeated several times over the ensuing days. In a trembling voice, 85-year-old Holocaust survivor Yelena Kuklova, who as a child was hidden by her non-Jewish neighbors in a suitcase in a closet, echoed the sentiment.
“They killed us then because we were Jews. They are killing us today because we are Ukrainian,” she said, a slow cascade of tears spilling over her cheekbones. “We started our lives in war and we’re finishing them in war.”
And so it was in battle-scarred Mykolaiv, 140 kilometers northeast of Odessa. “What the Germans never managed to do, the Russians did,” said Eli Ben Mendel Hopstein, standing in front of his building, pockmarked from the shrapnel of a Russian missile.
Inside his home, Hopstein rifled through decades-old photos of himself in the navy. “I know danger,” he said, “and I don’t feel it now.” He describes himself as a proud Jew. “First, I am a Jew, then I am Ukrainian, and I never once hid this from anyone.”
Mykolaiv, pro-Russia before the war and now a vanguard of the south, has become a source of pride for its residents because of Russia’s failure to occupy it. Even before the war, Mykolaiv was a desperately poor city. But now, following eight months of daily explosions, destruction is everywhere and the city’s critical infrastructure has been badly damaged.
Damaged buildings are a common sight in Mykolaiv, which Russian troops pummeled during the first year of the war. So are people lining up for potable water. (Deborah Danan)
Like Odessa, the city has no electricity for up to 22 hours a day. For more than half a year, large swaths of the city had no water at all. Today, residents can turn on the tap and get a murky brown liquid known as technical water, but it is far from potable. For drinking and cooking, they are forced to collect safe water in plastic gallon bottles at water stations all over the city, many of which were installed by the Israeli nonprofit IsraAID.
Scenes of people placing buckets outside their houses in the hope of catching rainwater became ubiquitous in Mykolaiv. For its Jewish contingent, Chabad provides truckloads of bottled water. Hopstein credits the IFCJ and Chabad for keeping him alive.
“If it wasn’t for their help, I would have nothing,” he said.
Across the road from Hopstein, 82-year-old Galina Petrovna Mironenko, who is not Jewish, is not so lucky. A Russian S300 missile that appeared to be targeting a nearby university missed its mark and struck Mironenko’s home, decimating her every earthly possession. Mironenko said the only help she gets is a weekly loaf of bread from the government. Standing in her charred kitchen, her red and blue checkered headscarf offering the only color, Mironenko’s expression is almost childlike — a jarring contrast to the words she utters.
Galina Petrovna Mironenko stands in the wreckage of her home in Mykolaiv, destroyed by a Russian missile. Her Jewish neighbor credits aid from Jewish organizations for keeping him alive. (Deborah Danan)
“I have died three times in my life,” she said. “Once when my father died, again when my son died and a third time after the 20 minutes it took for my house to burn.”
Back in Odessa, the sun has set and the city is cloaked in darkness, a cue that soon it will be time to head indoors for the nightly curfew. But first, a visit to the Orlikovsky family who are packing their suitcases ahead of their emigration the next day. On the couch in the tiny living room sit four generations of Jews: Alina; her daughter, Marina; her grandson Andrey; and Andrey’s wife and daughter Viktoria and Sofiya.
Andrey recalls Feb. 24, 2022. “I couldn’t believe my eyes and ears. I heard a terrible blast and grabbed my daughter and told my wife, ‘Let’s get out!’ I thought my house was going to collapse like a doll’s house.”
Participants of the Hanukkah celebration in Kharkiv, northeastern Ukraine, received a hot meal — part of the sustained aid that Jewish communities have distributed throughout the war there, Dec. 18, 2022. (Vyacheslav Madiyevskyi / Ukrinform/Future Publishing via Getty Images)
But it would take nearly a year to finally make the move, because of Viktoria’s late mother who was sick and because, in Andrey’s words, “you get used to the bombs.”
“We live without power, we live without heating, very often there is no hot water. We are living like insects,” Alina said. “My children told me, mama, we need to go.”
When the family finished speaking, the electricity came back and the lights turned on. Sofiya, 5 years old, laughed into her mother’s chest.
The first anniversary of the war marks two weeks since Alexei Shkurat and the other 89 new arrivals were greeted on the tarmac of Ben Gurion Airport by Israel’s new immigration minister, Ofir Sofer. Shkurat is on the lookout for a permanent home in a place where he can sell his art.
“I am getting to know the country and looking for new friends,” he said. “I want to do a lot of beautiful and bright projects. I want to draw a lot,” he said.
He deeply misses Odessa, which he called an amazing city, but being reunited with his sons has soothed the pain.
“Meeting with my children was the best event of the last year,” he said.
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The post Dramatic stories of survival, endurance and escape reign as Ukrainian Jews mark 1 year of war appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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Why protests in Iran seem surprisingly pro-Israel
Iranian cities are engulfed in anti-regime protests, the largest in several years. Initially sparked by economic frustration, the demonstrations have quickly expanded to include broader grievances — particularly anger at Iran’s foreign policy. One chant heard repeatedly in videos circulating from inside Iran captures that anger succinctly: “Neither Gaza, nor for Lebanon — my life is only for Iran.”
The slogan refers to Iran’s long-standing support for armed groups across the Middle East, including Hezbollah in Lebanon, Hamas and Palestinian Islamic Jihad in Gaza, the Houthis in Yemen, and militias in Iraq and Syria. Qassem Soleimani, the late commander of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps’ Quds Force, designed the strategy with the intention of encircling Israel with proxy forces on multiple fronts.
Today, many Iranians view that strategy as a drain on a collapsing economy. On December 28, the Iranian rial — the country’s currency — plunged against the U.S. dollar, intensifying a long-running economic crisis marked by soaring prices and an annual inflation rate of around 40 percent.
Beyond the billions of dollars Tehran has spent supporting these groups, the U.S. and European Union have imposed harsh sanctions targeting Iran’s proxy networks and nuclear program. Those sanctions have restricted Iran’s access to international banking, restricted oil exports, and discouraged foreign investment into the country, contributing to inflation and the steady erosion of the rial.
In June, Iranians came face to face with the consequences of the regime’s foreign policy when Israeli strikes across the country targeted missile and nuclear sites, as well as IRGC leaders. The 12-Day War severely disrupted daily life and resulted in the death of 436 Iranian civilians.
For many protesters, the connection feels direct: money spent sustaining proxy forces abroad brings harsher sanctions at home, raising prices, shrinking wages, and worsening daily life. With that in mind, the chant is less an endorsement of Israel than a rejection of a foreign policy that, in protesters’ eyes, prioritizes anti-Israel and anti-Western ideology over basic economic survival.
The return of monarchist symbolism
Many protesters are also calling for the return of the Pahlavi dynasty, which ruled Iran until the 1979 Islamic Revolution. Videos shared online show protesters chanting slogans in favor of the former monarchy or displaying symbols associated with it, including the pre-revolutionary Iranian flag.
The Pahlavi era was marked by rapid modernization and close ties with the United States and Israel, including a strategic alliance with Israel that consisted of economic and intelligence cooperation. At the same time, the period was also defined by political repression, censorship, and the use of secret police to silence dissent — factors that ultimately fueled the revolution that ended the monarchy.
The most prominent figure associated with the dynasty today is Reza Pahlavi, the Shah’s son, who lives in Maryland and has been outspokenly pro-Israel. Pahlavi has called for normalizing relations between Iran and Israel through what he has dubbed the “Cyrus Accords,” an expansion of the Abraham Accords. Pahlavi has commented that the “only two countries on this planet that can claim to have a biblical relationship” are “Iran and Israel.”
In April 2023, Pahlavi traveled to Israel, where he met with Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, President Isaac Herzog, and paid a visit to the Western Wall, where he said he prayed “for the day when the good people of Iran and Israel can renew our historic friendship.” He even consulted Israeli water management scientists, whom he dubbed the “best experts in the field,” to help him develop a plan of action for Iran’s water crisis, which has also been a major point of contention for protestors. In June, Pahlavi’s daughter married Jewish American businessman Bradley Sherman, and the hora was danced at the reception.
On Thursday, Pahlavi called on Iranians to take to the streets en masse. Since his call to action, the protests have escalated significantly, though the extent of his influence inside Iran remains difficult to assess.
Many analysts caution that monarchist support inside Iran remains fragmented, and that Pahlavi is unlikely to emerge as a singular opposition leader. Still, the symbolism matters. The current protests have been driven in large part by young Iranians, many of whom have no direct memory of the Pahlavi era. The use of monarchist symbolism may signal not only nostalgia, but also an alternative vision of Iran’s place in the world — one less defined by permanent hostility toward Israel.
The post Why protests in Iran seem surprisingly pro-Israel appeared first on The Forward.
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God heard the cries of Israelites in Egypt. Who will respond to our devastation in Minnesota?
In this week’s Torah portion, Shemot, God hears the cries of the oppressed Israelites in Egypt and calls out to Moses through the form of a burning bush.
Today, here in Minnesota, cries of the oppressed can be heard, too. They come from all those who grieve the tragic loss of Renée Nicole Good, fatally shot by an Immigration and Customs Enforcement agent on Wednesday morning in front of her wife and horrified neighbors. And they come from all those feeling fear and outrage as federal agents have increased their efforts to detain immigrants, acting with new violence and brutality as they do so.
Many of my fellow Minnesotans have been frightened to leave their homes. They are not going to the jobs they rely on to afford their basic needs, or attending worship services. Parents are scared to send their children to school. Schools, daycare centers and businesses are afraid to open, as ICE makes arrests on their doorsteps. Community members who have been eager to help are now fearful, in the wake of Good’s killing, that they, too, may be targeted, harassed, or even killed.
My own child’s elementary school moved recess indoors to protect vulnerable students and staff who are worried about their safety from ICE.
In Shemot, God calls to Moses to usher in an era of change for the Israelites desperate for relief from fear, violence and vicious retribution. Moses hesitates, asking “who am I?” to take on this monumental task. God assures him that he is not alone, because God will be with him throughout the journey.
As we enter this Shabbat, with the tragedy of Good’s death fresh in our minds, we must commit ourselves to hearing the cries of all who suffer among us. That is the first step toward healing and repairing the brokenness that so many now feel.
That repair will be a monumental task. But like Moses, we are not called to do it alone.
In fact, we must not try to. Instead, we must focus our efforts on building bonds in the face of terror — not letting that terror break our connections to one another.
The Jewish sages taught that, for our ancestors, sinat chinam — baseless hatred — led to internal fracture, civil war, the destruction of both Jewish temples, and our people’s forced exile from the land of Israel. Their warning is not abstract. It reminds us that societies collapse not only because of external threats, but also because of the consequences of unmitigated internal rage.
What’s needed to correct our dangerous path?
First, a strong pushback against those voices who have issued incomprehensible personal attacks against Good since her death. Too many federal officials and media personalities have not only failed to express empathy for a life lost, but also used her death to inflame polarization.
Our state desperately needs calm and clarity. Our leaders and our citizens must forcefully affirm that Good’s death was needless and tragic, and that we will not go along with attempts to rewrite that truth.
As part of this affirmation, we must call on the federal government to allow the professional and nonpartisan Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension to fully participate in the investigation of Good’s death. No matter what findings are ultimately reached, the investigation’s credibility relies upon it being done in partnership with state and federal officials.
This event has proven what many of us already knew: The ongoing surge of more than 2,000 ICE agents into Minnesota is counterproductive to restoring public safety and public trust. Minnesotans desperately want to return to normalcy. We want to feel safe in going to school, to work, and to spend time with family and friends. ICE has brought fear and anxiety into our lives, not peace or justice. They must go.
Our country’s immigration system has been broken for decades. Congress has at points come close to reaching bipartisan, consensus-driven, comprehensive immigration reform, but political polarization has made such compromises all but impossible to reach.
We must redouble our efforts to build an immigration system based upon respect for the rule of law, compassion, and an understanding of the vital role that immigrants play in strengthening our society as a whole.
We ask our fellow Minnesotans to treat members of law enforcement, and the men and women of our Minnesota National Guard, with patience and kindness. And we urge our community to exercise compassion for the vulnerable in the days ahead.
As Jewish Americans, we have a long and proud history of supporting immigrant communities — remembering that we too were once strangers in a strange land. Not just our ancestors in ancient Egypt, whose anguish this week’s Torah portion recounts, but also here, in the U.S. We must reinvigorate that commitment — for the sake of Good’s memory, our immigrant neighbors, and the health of our whole society.
The post God heard the cries of Israelites in Egypt. Who will respond to our devastation in Minnesota? appeared first on The Forward.
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Mamdani Remains Silent on Pro-Hamas Synagogue Protest, Other NYC Lawmakers Issue Condemnations
New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani delivers a speech during his inauguration ceremony in New York City, US, Jan. 1, 2026. Photo: REUTERS/Kylie Cooper
Newly inaugurated New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani has remained silent regarding an anti-Israel protest outside a Queens synagogue on Thursday evening that featured chants supporting Hamas and prompted nearby Jewish institutions to shut down out of safety concerns.
The demonstration took place outside Young Israel of Kew Gardens Hills, where an event promoting Israeli real estate investments was scheduled. Dozens of protesters chanted slogans including “Globalize the intifada” and “Say it loud, say it clear, we support Hamas here,” according to video footage shared online. Hamas is designated a terrorist organization by the United States and the architect behind the Oct. 7 massacres in Israel which killed roughly 1200 and resulted in the abduction of 250 others.
The protest also unfolded near the Yeshiva of Central Queens, leading synagogue leaders to cancel evening prayer services and local schools to dismiss students early. While the New York Police Department maintained a buffer zone and no major violence was reported, residents described the atmosphere as tense and intimidating.
A chorus of condemnation has come from city and state lawmakers since the protest.
State Assemblyman Sam Berger, whose district includes the synagogue, said the mayor’s failure to speak out was “deeply concerning,” arguing that city leadership has a responsibility to draw clear lines when protests target houses of worship.
“This wasn’t an abstract political rally,” Berger said. “It was outside a synagogue, in a residential Jewish neighborhood, with chants that glorify violence. The mayor should be unequivocal.”
Governor Kathy Hochul, by contrast, swiftly condemned the protest, calling the chants “disgusting” and emphasizing that support for Hamas has no place in New York.
“No matter your political beliefs, this type of rhetoric is disgusting, it’s dangerous, and it has no place in New York,” Hochul wrote.
NYC Council Speaker Julie Menin wrote that “openly and proudly sympathizing with Hamas, especially while standing in the largely Jewish community of Kew Gardens Hills, stokes fear and division.”
Mark Levine, NYC Comptroller, repudiated the demonstrations, saying they “cannot be normalized or excused.”
Rep. Ritchie Torres, a Bronx Democrat, also denounced the demonstration, saying rhetoric that praises terrorist organizations amounts to hate, not legitimate political speech.
Meanwhile, as criticism mounted from state and federal officials, Mamdani, who took office just days earlier, did not issue a direct statement condemning the protest or the rhetoric used by demonstrators.
The protest was organized by groups affiliated with the Palestinian Assembly for Liberation (PAL-Awda) NY/NJ, which has previously promoted demonstrations targeting Israel-related events. Organizers framed the rally as opposition to Israeli land sales, but Jewish leaders say the location and language crossed a line.
The episode echoes earlier controversies surrounding Mamdani, who has faced criticism in the past for what opponents describe as equivocation when anti-Israel protests occur near Jewish religious spaces. In a previous incident outside an Upper East Side synagogue, Mamdani criticized language used by the protesters while simultaneously condemning the synagogue for hosting real estate events.
The protest comes amid an alarming surge in antisemitic hate crimes across New York City.
Jews were targeted in the majority (54 percent) of all hate crimes perpetrated in New York City in 2024, according to data issued by the New York City Police Department (NYPD). A new report released on Wednesday by the New York City Mayor’s Office to Combat Antisemitism, which was established in May, noted that figure rose to a staggering 62 percent in the first quarter of this year, despite Jewish New Yorkers comprising just 11 percent of the city’s population.
After securing the election, Mamdani has repeatedly stressed a commitment to forcefully combatting antisemitism while in office. However, a recent report released by the Anti-Defamation League (ADL) revealed that at least 20 percent of Mamdani’s transition and administrative appointees have either a “documented history of making anti-Israel statements” or ties to radical anti-Zionist organizations that “openly promote terror and harass Jewish people.”
Mamdani, a far-left democratic socialist and avowed anti-Zionist, is an avid supporter of boycotting all Israeli-tied entities who has made anti-Israel activism a cornerstone of his political career and been widely accused of promoting antisemitic rhetoric. He has repeatedly accused Israel of “apartheid” and “genocide”; refused to recognize the country’s right to exist as a Jewish state; and refused to explicitly condemn the phrase “globalize the intifada,” which has been associated with calls for violence against Jews and Israelis worldwide.