By Lahav ZakenAugust 8, 2025

This story was originally published in the Forward. Click here to get the Forward’s free email newsletters delivered to your inbox.

I’m a Jewish Israeli American teenager and North Carolina resident, and I was delighted to see that the North Carolina Democratic party recently approved new platform resolutions that called for an arms embargo against Israel, a ceasefire, and the release of the hostages. Very few people and organizations have managed to articulate my views of both Oct. 7 and the subsequent genocide as well as my state party’s resolutions did. Unfortunately, it seems that my perspective is not very welcome at my local Jewish Federation.

I was particularly gratified by how balanced the resolutions were. They directly condemned the deliberate killing of innocent civilians by both parties and called for the end of the war. The resolutions also condemned antisemitism and Islamophobia, condemned Hamas and the Oct. 7 terrorist attack and decried both Hamas and Israel’s human rights violations. They advocated for basic human rights, dignity and peace for all Israelis and Palestinians.

Yet somehow, this language advocating for peace was objectionable to the Jewish Federation. The CEOs of the Jewish Federations of Raleigh, Durham, Charlotte and Greensboro released a statement attacking the resolutions. Their biggest objection was to the resolutions’ use of the terms “apartheid” and “ethnic cleansing,” which they specifically singled out as “radical and inflammatory.” They argued that the resolutions ignored Oct. 7 and undermined Israel’s right to self-defense. They even went so far as to accuse the Democratic Party of devaluing the “safety, identity, and lived experiences” of Jewish Americans.

I strongly disagree with the Jewish Federations and believe the statement they released was deeply harmful and inaccurate. While the federations may still be a hub of Jewish institutional power and influence, their perspectives on Israel and Gaza and continuing unconditional support of Israel’s actions do not represent many American Jews.

This statement is not an isolated incident, but an example of the ongoing silencing of the perspectives of an increasing number of American Jews by Jewish Federations across the country and Jewish institutions and youth groups more broadly.

I am just about as Jewish as you can get. I was born in Israel and lived in Jerusalem until I was 4, when my family moved to Greensboro, North Carolina. I did not visit Israel for most of my childhood, but I still felt an extremely strong connection to my home country. Growing up, I ate Israeli food, listened to Israeli music and watched Israeli shows. I attended Jewish day school, I volunteer with my local synagogue and know most Jewish services by heart. In 2023, I traveled back to Israel on a school trip led by the Jewish National Fund. I genuinely loved getting to see my home city and country for the first time that I could vividly remember.

However, my connection to my country of birth has almost completely eroded following almost two years of non-stop war and aggression in Gaza. I am enraged and heartbroken that Jewish Institutions will not recognize or acknowledge that pain.

Like most Jews and Israelis, my gut reaction after Oct. 7 was to stand strong with Israel. I was horrified by the atrocities Hamas committed that day. I wanted to wave the flag of my birth country more strongly, to support Israel’s right to defend its civilians and demand the hostages be freed.

However, after months of seeing satellite images of the complete devastation of Gaza and reading testimonials from doctors and journalists describing the humanitarian crisis, my perspective has shifted. I couldn’t help changing my mind when I saw hostage families being beaten by police in the streets of Tel Aviv and Jerusalem for calling for a ceasefire, or when I read statements from Israeli leaders making it clear that their goals were to destroy the entire population of Gaza. I do not hold Israel to a different standard than any other country, no matter my love and connection to it. It is precisely my Jewish values that have pushed me to speak out so strongly against Israel’s unjustifiable actions in Gaza.

I believe two wrongs do not make a right. What Hamas did was immoral. And the genocidal war of aggression that Israel has waged on the people of Gaza is also immoral. I am horrified and ashamed to see tens of thousands of innocent Palestinians killed, including the deliberate targeting of aid seekers at distribution sites. If I, as an Israeli-born teenager, can acknowledge the atrocities committed by Israel and that multiple things can be true at the same time, why can’t Jewish institutions?

For those reasons, along with the sheer brutality and immorality of the war, more and more American Jews oppose Israel’s government and their war on the people of Gaza. Unfortunately, those who dare to express opposition are being isolated and alienated from their Federations, synagogues and youth groups. All of these institutions explicitly and implicitly manufacture total support for the Israeli government and its actions.

The North Carolina Federations’ statement not only blatantly misrepresents the state Democratic party’s resolutions by falsely implying that they are apologists for Hamas, but also misleadingly implies they speak for all or most Jewish North Carolinians. A November 2024 J Street poll of Jewish Americans found 61% support an arms embargo against Israel. As of June 2024, according to a poll conducted by the Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs, 30% of Jewish Americans believe that Israel is committing genocide, a number that has undoubtedly risen since then.

The Federation leaders are completely right to be concerned about the extreme rise in antisemitism since Oct. 7. I have had multiple personal run-ins with antisemitism since Oct. 7. Someone close to me experienced identity-based discrimination in a local progressive organization we are both a part of because they are Israeli-American and worked as a journalist in Israel. I have repeatedly been subjected to antisemitic comments online, and was once told that I should join the Israel Defense Force after I condemned the killing of innocent civilians on Oct. 7, implying that being Israeli and opposing the killing of innocent Israeli civilians meant that I somehow enjoyed killing Palestinian civilians.

Many Jews in America have had similar experiences, and I have no doubt that Jewish Federation and Jewish institutional leaders care deeply about fighting antisemitism and keeping their Jewish communities safe. However, statements like the North Carolina Federation heads made do not keep us safe.

When a local Jewish Federation, synagogue or youth movement chapter releases statements claiming that they stand fully with Israel in the conflict, they are isolating and ignoring those of us who offer critiques of Israel’s actions and policies. If these actions continue, millions of American Jews across the country will be pushed out of Jewish institutions, excluded from Jewish spaces and have their Jewishness questioned over their stance against Israel’s actions in Gaza. This is, unfortunately, already happening.

The reality is that in 2025, most American Jews do not stand unconditionally with Israel anymore. If Jewish federations and other institutions want to be the inclusive spaces for all Jews that they claim to be, then they must adapt to this reality.

If groups such as the Jewish Federations cannot reflect American Jewish opinion in 2025 or acknowledge the isolation from Israel that more and more American Jews feel, then millions of Jewish Americans with perspectives such as mine will be erased from the institutions designed to make us feel most at home.

Lahav Zaken is a junior at New Garden Friends School and a local progressive organizer in Greensboro, North Carolina.

The views and opinions expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect those of the Forward. Discover more perspectives in Opinion. To contact Opinion authors, email opinion@forward.com.

This story was originally published on the Forward.

By HENRY SREBRNIK President Donald Trump’s administration has been discussing with Azerbaijan the possibility of bringing that nation and some Central Asian allies into the Abraham Accords. During his first term in office, four Muslim-majority countries agreed to normalize diplomatic relations with Israel. It is now closer to fruition.

The Abraham Accords, signed in 2020, were a historic step and are considered a breakthrough in Israel’s relations with Arab states. On the surface, these agreements with Bahrain, Morocco, Sudan, and the United Arab Emirates, heralded not only diplomatic engagement but also the normalization of ties in every field, including technology, economy, tourism, security, and agriculture.

While the original Accords were centered on diplomatic ties, Azerbaijan and every country in Central Asia already has relations with Israel, meaning that an expansion of the Accords to include them would largely be symbolic, focusing on strengthening ties in areas like trade and military cooperation. 

Although the Abraham Accords were initially agreements over Israeli-Arab normalization, the pacts have since transcended Arab borders into a high-profile forum that can incorporate Muslim countries committed to shared values of tolerance, peace, and prosperity. 

Wedged between Russia to the north and Iran to the south, Azerbaijan occupies a critical link in trade flows between Central Asia and the West. The Caucasus and Central Asia are also rich in natural resources, including oil and gas, prompting various major powers to compete for influence in the region.

Azerbaijan normalized relations and trade with the Jewish state in the early 1990s, shortly after gaining independence from the Soviet Union. Since then, ties have quietly flourished under the stewardship first of Heydar Aliyev and subsequently that of his son, Ilham. 

Last year, trade between the two countries reached nearly one billion dollars, mainly in the energy and defence sectors. Azerbaijan has become Israel’s critical energy partner, supplying more than 60 per cent of its gasoline needs. It has also become Israel’s second-largest defence customer, accounting for nearly a tenth of all Israeli defence exports between 2018 and 2022. 

Russia, Azerbaijan’s Soviet-era political master, is currently preoccupied with its war in Ukraine, leaving it with little ability to interfere in the South Caucasus. Meanwhile, Iran, Azerbaijan’s southern neighbor and ideological challenger, is now at its weakest political point in decades, with minimal influence in the country’s internal affairs through religious appeal or sectarian outreach, as it has tried to do in previous years. 

Kazakhstan also enjoys strong ties with Israel, and Astana benefits from advanced Israeli agriculture, medical, water, and security technology. The Abraham Accords provide an opportunity to further deepen security and economic cooperation and could help the country reduce its economic dependence on Russia and China at a time when such dependence is proving to be a liability.

Trump’s special envoy for peace missions, Steve Witkoff, traveled to Azerbaijan’s capital, Baku, in March to meet with Azerbaijani President Ilham Aliyev. As part of the discussions, Azerbaijani officials contacted officials in Central Asian nations, including in nearby Kazakhstan, to gauge their interest in a broader Abraham Accords expansion. For Azerbaijan, the Accords could provide a path to expanded security cooperation against Iranian threats and, if pursued in coordination with Kazakhstan, progress towards its goal of becoming a bridge to Central Asia

Joseph Epstein of the Turan Research Center at the New York-based Yorktown Institute, a non-partisan program dedicated to exploring modern-day developments in the Turkic and Persian worlds, argues that bringing Azerbaijan into the Abraham Accords would signal to Muslim majority states in Central Asia that open cooperation with Israel is both possible and worthwhile. It would also squeeze Tehran which sees a secular Shia state aligned with Israel and Turkey as a strategic problem.

“When President Donald Trump shared a clip of Azerbaijani President Ilham Aliyev’s speech at the Shusha Global Media Forum on Truth Social, it wasn’t just a friendly gesture,” Epstein explained. “It signaled that Azerbaijan’s partnership with Israel and the United States is now firmly on his radar.” 

At a time when the United States was trying to get the Abraham Accords back on track, all of this was certainly encouraging. But a sticking point remained: Azerbaijan’s conflict with its neighbor Armenia. The Trump administration considered a peace deal between the two Caucasus nations as a precondition to join the Abraham Accords. The breakthrough came on Aug. 8, when Azerbaijani President Ilham Aliyev and Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan signed a joint letter officially indicating their willingness to end their conflict. 

The pact also gives the U.S. exclusive rights to develop a transit route through a mountainous stretch of Armenian territory between Azerbaijan known as the Zangezur corridor. It will connect Azerbaijan proper with its Nakhchivan region, which borders Baku’s ally Turkey via Armenian territory. The new transit corridor will allow unimpeded connectivity between the two countries while respecting Armenia’s sovereignty and territorial integrity and its people. The securing of that route also marks a significant setback for Russia and Iran in the South Caucasus. Restrictions were also lifted on defence co-operation between Azerbaijan and the United States.

 Trump framed the agreement as a “peace deal,” writing on Truth Social that “Many Leaders have tried to end the War, with no success, until now.” This is another feather in a potential Trump Nobel Peace Prize cap.

Henry Srebrnik is a professor of political science at the University of Prince Edward Island.

By Talya ZaxAugust 8, 2025

(Ed. note: An Officer and a Spy is not yet available for streaming in Canada. It is available for streaming on Prime Video in the U.S.)

This story was originally published in the Forward. Click here to get the Forward’s free email newsletters delivered to your inbox.

In the opening scene of Roman Polanski’s An Officer and a Spy, a retelling of the infamous Dreyfus Affair — in which Alfred Dreyfus, a French Jewish officer, was falsely accused of treason at the turn of the 20th century — Dreyfus, played by Louis Garrel, is paraded past a silent crowd of his peers to suffer a punishment known as degradation.

That is historically accurate. In 1895, after his conviction, Dreyfus underwent the public humiliation of having the adornments of his rank ripped off his person, and his sword broken, all while he vainly protested his innocence.

But for anyone familiar with Polanski’s own history — or the history of this film, which was released in Europe in 2019, but is only now getting its U.S. theatrical premiere — the double meaning is clear.

Because Polanski, who in 1977 pleaded guilty to “unlawful sexual intercourse with a minor,” is one of the legions of Hollywood men to face public disgrace over sexual misbehavior. (He fled to Europe after learning that a judge planned to issue him a harsher sentence than was agreed in his plea deal.) When An Officer and a Spy first came out, Polanski said that his attraction to the Dreyfus story was in part attached to his own case: “I can see the same determination to deny the facts and condemn me for things I have not done,” he said.

What a difference six years makes. In 2019, only two years after the #MeToo movement rocketed to public prominence, Polanski’s film couldn’t secure distribution in the United States. In 2023, the next movie he made, a poorly reviewed comedy called The Palace, suffered the same fate.

But in 2025, the backlash against #MeToo has reached an apogee, and allegations of rampant antisemitism have come to define much of American political life. Now, An Officer and a Spy‘s long-delayed American premiere — a two-week run at Manhattan’s Film Forum, beginning on Friday — suggests that Polanski’s barely-veiled “J’accuse” against his detractors may be newly relevant.

A scapegoat in search of a savior

Dreyfus is not the hero of An Officer and a Spy. Instead, he’s a foil for the rest of the action: a convenient martyr, whom Garrel bestows with a kind of drippy intensity. No one, including the film’s real subject — Georges Picquart, the antisemitic army official who trained Dreyfus and reluctantly comes to campaign against his conviction — has much attention to spare for him.

Even Polanski seems bored by Dreyfus’ suffering; when his camera visits the desert island to which Dreyfus is banished, it’s more fascinated by the desolate landscape than the lonely Jew wasting away within it. And as Picquart, played by Jean Dujardin, pieces together the conspiracy that framed his formal pupil, he doesn’t appear to feel any real compulsion to reconsider his general distaste for the man himself.

Instead, he’s driven by his commitment to the ideals that have informed his career in the French army, chief among them orderliness and an adherence to proper procedure. To the extent that Picquart is radicalized by his adventures as a political outcast — a natural consequence of his insistence on airing the truth — it’s by becoming skeptical of the official structures in which he once put faith, not skeptical of his own inclination toward bigotry.

In other words, this is the story of a crusader so committed to justice that he sees his personal feelings as unimportant. If Polanski thinks of himself as Dreyfus — polarizing and perhaps unlikable, but the victim of a moral panic nonetheless — he is, in an Officer and a Spy, putting out a call for some powerful party to serve as his Picquart. Which brave soul, the film wonders, will take a similar stand against the social furor that made Polanski a cultural outcast — albeit one who won multiple César Awards, the French equivalent to the Oscars, for this film — not because they like him, but because they can see that what he’s suffered is wrong?

That framing is a bold choice. The men who have attempted post-#MeToo comebacks have generally done so from a stance of bashful victimhood. When Kevin Spacey, whom more than 30 men have accused of sexual assault or inappropriate behavior, received an award at a gala hosted during this year’s Cannes Film Festival, he portrayed himself as a wrongly outcast golden boy now receiving his just rewards. “I feel surrounded by so much affection and love,” he said.

Polanski is doing something different. He’s not suggesting that he’s too nice and gentle to be responsible for all the things of which he’s been accused. Instead, he’s arguing that no matter how much his viewers might hate his guts, they should turn a gimlet eye upon the processes that led to his banishment from Hollywood, the U.S., and even many institutions of European cinema. (A French woman accused Polanski of rape shortly before An Officer and a Spy‘s French release; amid an outcry over French accolades for the film, Polanski didn’t attend that year’s César Awards, and when he was announced as Best Director, several attendees walked out in protest.)

The allegory of antisemitism

After Dreyfus is carted away to exile, in An Officer and a Spy, Picquart, who watched his degradation, is summoned by a superior who asks how the crowd reacted. The feeling, Picquart says, was that of a body that had rid itself of a pestilence.

Polanski is examining how the establishment reacts to what it perceives as the will of the public — how its self-protective mechanisms lead it to be in a constant race to anticipate the people’s prejudices, and fulfill them.

In his vision, the parties complicit in framing Dreyfus appear to be driven not by personal antisemitism so much as the sense that, because Jews have come to be widely held in suspicion by France’s citizenry, acting against Jews is a sure way to maintain their own hold on power. The generals who eventually perjure themselves in an attempt to prevent Picquart’s success know that if they admit that Dreyfus was innocent, the public won’t see them as noble and brave. They’ll see them, instead, as having joined with nefarious forces for personal gain.

Polanski, in making An Officer and a Spy, accurately anticipated a cultural turn that would see all kinds of people beginning to perceive themselves as “the Jews” in situations of societal discord: victims of a witch hunt, based on an ambient cultural sense that someone should be held accountable for all the things that are wrong in all our lives, while authorities tacitly encourage the scapegoating.

It happened during the COVID-19 pandemic, as some who were resistant to public health measures began comparing themselves to Jews in Nazi Germany. It’s happening now, as some Republicans have tried to turn Jews into avatars for conservatives, with the argument being that both groups have been persecuted by promoters of “wokeness.”

There is a natural parallel, as well, in the story of #MeToo. In the movement’s heyday, the locus of power in the sexual realm seemed to have shifted. The time in which successful men could basically do as they pleased was over. A new power structure had been adopted; adherents of the old one began to see themselves as victims of a shadowy new elite.

What happens when people begin to see a real historical conspiracy as an analogy for every development they dislike? Do they find a harmless outlet for their grievances, or do they simply risk becoming more suspicious, and more conspiratorial? In a U.S. where the president owns a social media outlet called Truth, any number of people going to see An Officer and a Spy might see something of their own plight in that of Dreyfus. And any number of them might idolize Picquart as a vigilante uncovering deep governmental rot.

They may or may not be right. After all, there’s much injustice in the world, today as at the turn of the century. But I fear that while An Officer and a Spy might be trying to investigate the kind of conspiratorial mindset that gave rise to the Dreyfus Affair, what it’s really doing is reinforcing it.

Talya Zax is the Forward’s opinion editor. Contact her at zax@forward.com or on Twitter, @TalyaZax.

• zax@forward.com
• @TalyaZax

This story was originally published on the Forward.