Features
New book looks at the fight by law-abiding Jews to rein in the New York Jewish underworld in early 20th century
The Incorruptibles: A True Story of Kingpins, Crime Busters, and the Birth of the American Underworld
Reviewed by BERNIE BELLAN For those readers who can remember the story of “The Untouchables,” the crime-fighting unit led by Elliot Ness, which was established by the Bureau of Prohibition in the US in the 1930s, tales of shoot-outs between courageous crime-fighting “good guys” and villainous underworld bootleggers and other assorted criminals would probably be thought of as something that wouldn’t have its origin in a Jewish-led crime-fighting unit established several years earlier.
But, would you believe that not too many years before the often bloody events that were depicted in “The Untouchables” came to pass there was another organization in New York City – led by Jewish crime fighters at that time, which had a somewhat tacit affiliation with the New York City Police Department, and whose purpose was to wage war on Jewish criminals on New York’s East Side? That organization was known as “The Incorruptibles” and the story how it came to be created is told in a fascinating new book, titled “The Incorruptibles: A True Story of Kingpins, Crime Busters, and the Birth of the American Underworld,” written by a New York crime reporter by the name of Dan Slater.
As someone who has long had a fascination with shady Jewish characters, I’ve come to realize over the years that a rollicking good story of a Jewish mobster, such as the close friendship a former Winnipegger by the name of Al Smiley had with the notorious Bugsy Siegel, about which Martin Zeilig wrote for The Jewish Post & News in March 2017, resonates with readers in ways that stories about more righteous Jews don’t.
While Martin’s story about Al Smiley was by no means the first story we’ve ever had about Jewish mobsters, a quick search of our online archive would lead you to numerous stories about Jewish gangsters and other assorted criminals.
In the summer of 2023 we ran two stories in relatively rapid succession that elicited a higher than usual amount of interest from readers. One was my review of a book called “Jukebox Empire,” about someone by the name of Wilf Rabin, who actually grew up in Morden, Manitoba. The other story was about bootlegger Bill Wolchock, written by Bill Redekopp, and which appeared in our 2023 Rosh Hashanah edition. Later, when I posted that story to our website it received so many views that I’ve returned it to our home page twice since. (You can now read that story if you missed it by reading it here: “Booze, Glorious Booze”
All this serves as a preamble to my review of “The Incorruptibles.” I have to couch what I’m about to write with an admission: As a youngster growing up in a sheltered environment, and attending the Talmud Torah, where all we were ever told about was Jewish “heroes,” and the only villains were Jews who didn’t lead properly observant lives, reading “The Incorruptibles” came as a real shock to my conception of how much Jews could be associated with the most sordid type of criminal activity.
It’s one thing to realize that many Jews were involved with bootlegging – something that has developed an almost romantic connotation over the years through books, movies and television programs, but to learn that in the latter part of the 19th century Jews in New York were in control of that city’s: prostitution (and most prostitutes were Jewish!); drugs (however, with the understanding that drugs, including heroin and cocaine, were legally available in the U.S. until 1907 and could be readily purchased in pharmacies); gambling; and protection rackets – does come as somewhat of a shock to a sheltered Winnipeg Jew.
Dan Slater’s depiction of life in New York City at the turn of the 20th century is unremittingly harrowing. For the first part of the 20th century the lower East Side of New York was the most densely populated area on Earth. Housing conditions were horrible and the hundreds of thousands of new immigrants arriving yearly – beginning in the 1870s, from what was known as the Pale of Settlement in Eastern Europe – fleeing persecution and pogroms, found themselves being shunted into unspeakably barbaric working conditions in lower East Side factories, predominantly garment factories – owned by fellow Jews. (The author actually spends a considerable amount of time explaining how exactly the Pale of Settlement came into being and how sudden and incredibly violent wholesale persecution of hundreds of thousands of Jews could happen almost overnight – with the death of a particular czar, for instance.)
It was amidst this churning cesspool of a city that Jewish criminal activity of all sorts ran rampant. Two images from “The Incorruptibles” in particular haunted me. One was Slater’s explanation how so many young Russian Jewish women – most in their early or mid-teens, and only recently arrived in New York, were forced into prostitution. Many of these young women would go to a dance – looking to find some relief from the slave-like conditions that permeated the factories in which they worked. While at the dance, they would be approached by a young Jewish man who would offer them a drink. These guys, known in the colloquial as “Alphonses,” or, in Yiddish, as “schimchas,” would lace the girls’ drinks with drugs (a common occurrence to this day) and take the girls home, where they would rape them. But – now defiled, the girl could not possibly return to her family home out of shame; thus, tens of thousands of young Jewish women were forced into prostitution.
The other image that haunts me was the widespread practice of “horse poisoning.” Protection rackets have probably been around from time immemorial, but in this particular incarnation, criminals would confront business owners with a choice: Pay for “protection” or see your means of transportation (and remember, this was at a time when a horse-drawn buggy or carriage was the principal means of transportation) poisoned.
(There is actually a photo in “The Incorruptibles” of a horse lying dead on a New York street after it had been poisoned. Apparently it happened on a regular basis to the point where it didn’t draw much attention.)
While the book chronicles one sordid story after another so that the reader can understand just how tough life was on the lower East Side – often with reference to the colourful names of some of the most famous Jewish thugs who terrorized their fellow Jews, such as “Bald Jack Rose” or “Big Jack Zelig” (no relation to Martin Zelig – I checked), the biggest mobster of them all was the legendary Arnold Rothstein.
Rothstein is undoubtedly most famous for reputedly having fixed the 1919 World Series by bribing eight members of the Chicago White Sox, the overwhelming favourite to defeat the Cincinnati Reds, to throw the series. (It has never been proven absolutely conclusively that Rothstein did that, but as “The Incorruptibles” explains, the evidence points overwhelmingly in his direction.)
Rothstein was the kind of gambler who could lose $350,000 in a single night of playing poker – and not worry about it.
Here is an example of Slater’s ability to describe a character, when he sums up Arnold Rothstein: “Picture in one individual a sentimental and tender lover, a genial and humorous companion, a charitable giver, a loyal friend—and—a wholesale drug dealer, a crooked sports fixer, a welching gambler, a stolen securities fence, a rum-ring mastermind, a corrupter of police, a grafter through politics, a gunman, a judge-briber, a jury-tamperer, a blackmailer, a pool shark, a swindler.”
But, up against the villains of “The Incorruptibles,” Slater also depicts the stories of two very talented – and brave, young Jewish men, who were willing to challenge the criminal class: A lawyer by the name of Harry Newburger and Abe Shoenfeld, the son of a well-known New York reformer by the name of Mayer Shoenfeld.
As Slater explains, it was only when members of New York’s largely German-Jewish upper class began to take note of the horrid conditions in which the vast majority of the Eastern European Jews who had recently immigrated to America were living did an impetus to try and change things develop. Two men, Jacob Schiff (who is described as the J.P. Morgan of his day in terms of his vast wealth), and Felix Warburg, together with the rabbi of the leading temple of its day, Rabbi Judah Magnes of Temple Immanu-El, organized a group known as the “Kehilah.”
The Kehilah mandated Newburger and Shoenfeld to do whatever they deemed necessary to begin cleaning up the lower East Side. Of course, given how corrupt New York officials were at the time – under the control of the notorious Tammany Hall, led by “Big Jim Sullivan,” most of the New York City Police Department was also thoroughly under the control of criminals, which made the challenge set out for Newburger and Shoenfeld all the more difficult.
The book describes, sometimes in painful detail, the difficulties faced by the group assembled by Newburger and Shoenfeld, known, naturally, as “The Incorruptibles.” They weren’t above busting heads themselves, it turns out.
Again, one of the more interesting aspects of history to emerge from this book is that men would often switch sides at the drop of a hat – to go from violently attacking one particular group – at the behest of this or that mobster, to attacking the same group they were supposed to be defending the next day.
As has already been noted, the garment trade played a pivotal role in the development of New York City into becoming not only a magnet for immigrants, it also also played a prominent role in New York’s becoming the vast economic powerhouse that it is today. Slater notes that, at one point, 80 percent of all garments produced in the U.S. came from the lower East Side.
As workers began to organize themselves into unions, garment factory owners hired thugs, known as “shtarkers” (strong men) to beat up workers, occasionally to kill union organizers. In time though, the tide began to turn and, as unions gathered strength, the same tactics of violence and intimidation that had been used against workers began to be employed by unions – with workers who dared to cross picket lines (known colloquially as “scabs”) often being on the receiving end of that violence, occasionally ending with them being killed.
Newburger and Shoenfeld were thrust into the midst of this turmoil, trying to bring some peace to the labour disputes. Ironically, Mayer Shoenfeld (Abe’s father) was a longtime advocate for workers’ rights, but he would not talk to his son, who tried to straddle both worlds – of employers and employees.
“The Incorruptibles” describes the many battles fought to rein in the gambling, prostitution, protection rackets, and what became the illegal drug trade that were part and parcel of life on New York’s East Side. As the years went by, the Jewish dominance of the New York underworld gave way to the ascendance of the Italian mob. (Slater also acknowledges the roles that other groups also played in New York criminal activity, including the Irish), but his main focus is on Jewish criminals.
“The Incorruptibles” is a long and detailed book, drawing upon a great many different sources, and at times, the proliferation of names entering the scene can be more than a little confusing. But, for anyone who has an interest in reading something that peels back the layers of a very disturbing aspect of Jewish history that might not fit all that well with the notion of Jewish righteousness, then “The Incorruptibles” might be of interest.
“The Incorruptibles: A True Story of Kingpins, Crime Busters, and the Birth of the American Underworld”
By Dan Slater
432 pages
Published by Little, Brown and Company, 2024
Features
Monitored phone calls and fear of arrest: What life looks like for Iran’s Jews now
This story was originally published in the Forward. Click here to get the Forward’s free email newsletters delivered to your inbox.
Amid the war in Iran, one Iranian Jewish woman who lives in the United States, but whose family remains in Iran, has been wracked with fear. Before the ceasefire, she spoke with her parents once a week for exactly one minute — both because of the exorbitant cost, about $50 per minute, and because of the fear of surveillance.
During one call a few days into the war, she said, something felt off.
“I could see that something is so wrong. It’s as if someone was there,” the woman, who moved to the U.S. in 2008, said in an interview with the Forward. “It seemed like my mom was actually reading from a note.”
She later learned that the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps had come to her parents’ home, questioning why they frequently called an American number. They instructed her parents to download Bale, an Iranian messaging app widely believed to be monitored by authorities, before making any further calls.
“It’s a spy app, and everyone knows that,” the woman said with a wry laugh. Her parents refused. Instead, they were told to call their daughter and read from a script while IRGC members watched.
“Basically, they said to prove that you are with us and not with Israel, read this when you call her,” the woman said. “After that day, they didn’t call for a long time.”
Eventually, she learned that her parents had fled to a safer part of the country to escape bombardment.
Her family are among the estimated 10,000 Jews who still live in Iran, in the largest Jewish community in the Middle East outside of Israel. Once numbering around 120,000, the community has dwindled significantly since the 1979 Islamic Revolution, when life for religious minorities fundamentally changed. Today, Jews who remain in Iran must carefully navigate life under the regime, publicly expressing loyalty to avoid being falsely accused of Zionist espionage.
Amid Iran’s war with the U.S. and Israel, that pressure has intensified.
With an ongoing internet blackout, communication is limited and closely monitored. To understand what life is like for Iranian Jews today, I spoke with several people in the U.S. who remain in sporadic contact with family members inside Iran. Everyone interviewed requested that they not be identified, fearing repercussions for either themselves or their families.
A synagogue vigil for the Supreme Leader
On April 16, Tehran’s Yusef Abad synagogue held a memorial for Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, who was killed on the first day of the war. The event was attended and reported on by several state-affiliated media channels, filming as participants from Iran’s Jewish community shared their appreciation for the deceased Supreme Leader.
Inside and around the synagogue, posters featuring photos of Khamenei were displayed alongside Farsi slogans like “Unity of Iran’s faiths against aggression — condemnation of the attack on the Tehran synagogue by the child-killing Zionist regime and criminal America” and “The Jewish faith is separate from Zionism.”
Regime media pointed to the vigil as evidence of Jewish support for Iran’s theocratic government. But experts say that interpretation misses the reality.
Beni Sabti, an Iranian-born analyst at Tel Aviv’s Institute for National Security Studies, said displays like the synagogue vigil are often a matter of survival. Jews who remain in Iran are frequently compelled to demonstrate loyalty to the regime — and opposition to Israel — in order to avoid suspicion of having ties to Israel. Allegations of such ties have often led to imprisonment and executions following the Islamic Revolution in 1979.
To protect the community, Jewish leaders — especially rabbis — often participate in pro-regime events, including memorials for senior regime figures. In some cases, Iranian rabbis have even sat alongside members of Hamas and Hezbollah to pay their respects to senior IRGC commanders responsible for funding and training terror groups across the Middle East.
The regime exerts significant pressure to stage these displays, Sabti said, “because it’s good for them to show the world, ‘You see, we don’t oppress anyone.’”
Beyond public displays, much of Iran’s economy is tied to the state — what officials often describe as a “resistance economy.” In that system, some say, expressions of loyalty can become intertwined with economic survival.
The woman who left Iran in 2008 said one of her relatives was once pressured to confiscate land from dozens of people and transfer it to the government in order to keep his job — a loyalty test she says was especially harsh because of his Jewish identity. “In the job interview, they told him, you have a Jewish background, so you have to first prove how far you will go,” she explained.
Since the 12-Day War between Israel and Iran in June 2025, the situation has grown even more tense. More than 30 Jewish Iranians were reportedly detained during that conflict because of alleged contact with Israel. While some Jewish community members were arrested during the wave of anti-regime protests that occurred at the beginning of the year, Sabti said he has not heard of a similar wave of arrests during the current war.
Still, the fear remains.
Synagogues as shelter
Some Iranian Jews have managed to stay in touch with relatives via landline phones, although calls are expensive and likely monitored. Most avoid discussing politics, using their limited time simply to confirm they are alive.
“After the 12-Day War, people really didn’t talk on the phone,” said the woman who moved to the U.S. in 2008. “We do talk, it’s not like they literally cannot, it’s just like they realized that the scrutiny was so high that no one has meaningful conversations.”
Even so, fragments of sentiment emerge.
One 25-year-old Iranian Jew from Los Angeles said his Jewish cousins in Iran cried tears of joy when they heard of the Ayatollah’s death.
He said his great uncle and cousin told him over the phone, “I don’t care, whatever the cost. If you can eliminate Khamenei, if you can eliminate Mojtaba, his son, if you can eliminate any threat… do it.” He added, “Most Persian Jews in Iran are happy, is what I hear.”
Amid the current ceasefire, a 64-year-old Iranian Jewish woman from LA said her Jewish friends in Iran have expressed relief. “They are happy that the situation is calm, but on the other hand, nobody is happy. They all want it to get finished,” she said, adding that they hope for “regime change.”
For Nora, an Iranian Jew living in New York, the war has come at a time of crisis for her family in Iran. She says her aunt has been focused on caring for her son, who is suffering from bone marrow cancer. Because the family keeps kosher, her aunt has had to leave the house — even during bombardments — to ensure he has food and other necessities.
Around three weeks into the war, her house in Tehran was destroyed after a nearby police station was struck. She briefly moved into a local synagogue; now, she lives with another Jewish family who opened their home to her. Her son remains too sick to leave the hospital.
A synagogue destroyed
Nora’s aunt is not the only Iranian Jew to find shelter in a synagogue. Sabti heard from another Jewish family inside Iran that Jewish communities have been using synagogues as bomb shelters throughout the war. He recalled doing the same during his youth at the time of the Iran-Iraq war that began in 1980.
Beyond using the space for physical safety, synagogues have also become a place for Jews to be together during the difficult time. “They come just to gather there, passing the time, meeting and having a little bit better time together,” he said.
For members of the Rafi’ Nia synagogue, a 150-year-old religious institution in Tehran, this sense of comfort has disappeared. On April 6, the community gathered there for Passover services. The next morning, they learned the building had been destroyed by an Israeli strike.
The Israel Defense Forces said that the target of the strike was not the synagogue, but rather a top commander from Khatam al-Anbiya, Iran’s military emergency command. But Iranian media suggested that the IDF had intentionally targeted the building. The head of the synagogue made a statement condemning the attacks and wishing the Iranian regime success in the war.
The woman who immigrated in 2008 had visited the Rafi’ Nia synagogue during Passover around 10 years ago. She described it as a beautiful old building. Seeing images of its destruction brought back painful memories of her family’s past.
She and her family were forcibly converted to Islam around 70 years ago, she said, with one uncle publicly hanged after he refused to convert. Her family continued practicing Judaism in secret — celebrating Shabbat behind locked doors and in her grandmother’s basement, always afraid.
She believes her family became a target for conversion after the synagogue in their area was destroyed, leaving them without formal affiliation to a recognized religious institution. On two occasions, she said, the IRGC raided their home during Jewish holidays, searching for evidence of religious practice. When they found a menorah, her father was detained. “When my dad came back, he was a ghost.” She fears that members of the destroyed synagogue could now face a similar vulnerability.
In Iran, certain religious minorities, including Jews, are constitutionally recognized. But she says that their protection is closely tied to existing institutions.
“When we talk about the lack of protection, it has a very nuanced meaning. In Iran, this doesn’t mean that the synagogues cannot exist, but it means that the existing synagogues are the only legal protection that Jews do have,” she said. “Good luck with rebuilding that place. Good luck with asking for a new synagogue.”
Sabti said the regime has already used the synagogue’s destruction as propaganda, publicly condemning the attack while reinforcing the state narrative of religious inclusion. “The head of the Islamic clerics condemned Israel and paid condolences to the Jews,” he said. “Everyone pays condolences and says, ‘Oh, sorry, we are in this together’ … but everyone knows that the other one also is lying.”
An American Jewish detainee
For one Iranian American Jew, the war has made a dire situation worse.
Kamran Hekmati, a 70-year-old Iranian American from Great Neck, New York, traveled to Iran in June 2025 and was detained during the 12-Day War. According to advocates, his alleged crime was traveling to Israel 13 years earlier for his grandson’s bar mitzvah.
Kieran Ramsey of the Global Reach advocacy group, who represents Hekmati’s family, said in an interview that Kamran being the Iranian regime’s only Jewish American prisoner puts him in a particularly precarious position. “There can be risk of retribution or reprisals against him at any moment,” Ramsey said, “from prison guards or other prisoners…his identity certainly puts him at higher risk.”
On March 16, almost three weeks into the war, Secretary of State Marco Rubio designated Hekmati as wrongfully detained, a status that allows the federal government to deploy all possible levers — diplomatic, legal, and economic — to secure his release. Ramsey says that change in designation is helpful, but only goes so far.
His organization is now pushing for the release of all American prisoners in Iran to be an integral part of the U.S.-Iran negotiations to end the war.
“Our hope is that Kamran Hekmati and the other Americans that are being held are put to the front of the list in terms of issues to decide, and not as a deal sweetener,” he said adding, “We know the U.S. negotiators have a list of American names. We know Kamran is at the top of that list…. We also know there are some very rational actors inside the regime, and we are trying to convince them that you have a no-cost way to open doors. Use Kamran as that no-cost way.”
The last time the woman who emigrated in 2008 visited Iran was two years ago. Even then, she worried that photos taken of her in the U.S. wearing a Jewish star necklace might draw the regime’s suspicion.
Now, she believes whatever space existed for quiet concessions from the Iranian government to Jews may disappear. The regime’s efforts to retain a firm grip on the Iranian people following January’s massive anti-regime protest wave and the war pose new risks.
“Just because of everything that has happened… I’m sure that any type of like ‘OK, let this go,’ ‘Let this person go,’ will end,” she said.
“Now I know that I could not go back,” she added. “I really feel if the Islamic Republic stays — and they probably have a good chance of staying — I feel like I lost Iran.”
This story was originally published on the Forward.
Features
‘Don’t give up on us now’: Israel peace summit convenes thousands to aim for elusive progress
By Rachel Fink April 30, 2026
This story was originally published in the Forward. Click here to get the Forward’s free email newsletters delivered to your inbox.
TEL AVIV, ISRAEL — On Thursday’s bright, sun-drenched morning during a rare pause in the multi-front war Israel has been locked into for nearly three years, in between the protests, funerals and steady drumbeat of violence and trauma, something decidedly more hopeful was taking place.
In one of the city’s largest conference centers, thousands gathered for the third annual People’s Peace Summit under the banner “It must be. It can be. It will be.” The event was organized by the It’s Time coalition, a partnership of more than 80 grassroots peacebuilding and shared society organizations.
Young activists in T-shirts representing their various causes stood alongside older attendees, some in kippot, others in hijabs. Diplomats in business attire moved through the crowd, as did the handful of Israeli politicians still publicly associated with the peace camp – familiar faces in a political landscape where their ranks have thinned considerably. Outside the main arena, Hebrew mingled with Arabic and English as participants strolled through art installations and an organizational fair showcasing the work of It’s Time’s partners.
While previous events took place at the height of war — while hostages remained in captivity and Gaza endured devastating destruction — this year’s summit unfolded during a fragile lull in fighting, the tenuous ceasefires with Hamas, Hezbollah, and the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps allowing, however briefly, for conversations to move beyond issues of immediate survival. Speakers tackled settler violence in the West Bank, looming elections, the immense challenge of rebuilding Gaza and the broader question of how to move Israel and Palestine beyond its default state of perpetual conflict. Inside the packed sessions, the tone was equal parts practical, sober and hopeful.
After a quick coffee break, the thousands of participants came together for an evening of stirring speeches and raucous musical performances. When Israeli pop icon Dana International took the stage with a familiar anthem of peace, the crowd rose to its feet, wrapping their arms around one another and belting out the words.
Despite the joyous atmosphere, the event — and the coalition behind it — is not immune from criticism. Some critiques appear to have been internalized: this year’s programming leaned more heavily into policy, strategy and the hard realities of war than previous gatherings. Other issues remain unresolved. Palestinian participation, while present, was still markedly limited, which organizers attribute largely to government-imposed restrictions on movement rather than a lack of interest. Still, the question of whether a civil society movement like this can translate hope and optimism into concrete political change remains to be seen.
That tension between aspiration and reality extends well beyond Israel. In the United States, support for Israel, particularly among younger American Jews, is waning. A 2024 Pew survey found that fewer than half of American Jews under 30 say they feel “very attached” to Israel, while a JFNA poll released in February 2026, found that just 37% of all American Jews identify as Zionists. Both numbers represent a sharp decline from older generations.
For Shira Ben Sasson, Israel director of the New Israel Fund, it is precisely the peace camp which could hold the answer to this growing disillusionment. If the state itself no longer reflects the values that once anchored many American Jews’ connection to Israel, she suggests, perhaps their more natural partner is the small but determined coalition of Israelis working to change it.
“I appreciate how difficult it is to be a Jew who cares about Israel right now,” she told the Forward as the conference, which New Israel Fund helped support and coordinate, got underway. “People are struggling with what they are seeing — the way Israel is conducting itself. Its policies. They are watching the value set that once connected them so strongly to the Jewish state disappear.”
Her response is one of both reassurance and redirection.
“Thank you for continuing to care,” she said. “But remember — the Israeli government is not your partner. We are. Pro-democracy civil society is your partner. Those of us who are fighting for equality here, for the rights of non-Israeli Jews and the rights of non-Jewish Israelis are your partners. This is where those shared values still live.”
If that message feels unfamiliar to those in the diaspora, Ben Sasson suggests the reason ultimately comes down to lack of exposure.
“We, the Israeli peace camp, need to be in many more places than we are right now,” she said. “We must get the word out that while we might not be the majority here, we are not only growing in number, we are expanding our diversity as well.”
She pointed to the rising number of Orthodox Jews, like herself, who have joined the movement as one example.
Ben Sasson also emphasized that, as with any strong partnership, the relationship must move in both directions. Israeli peace activists, she said, must make themselves more visible to American Jews. But American Jews also need to be willing to open their eyes.
“The mainstream Jewish community has to challenge itself,” she said. “They have to be able to voice their concern for Israeli democracy, for the violence in the occupied territories. And they have to be willing to engage in an honest discussion about peace.”
She is less worried about reaching individuals whose support for Israel may be wavering — many of whom, she believes, will connect with the movement’s vision — than she is about the institutions that have long shaped American Jewish engagement with Israel. Those institutions, she said, have been slow to open themselves to this kind of messaging.
“I think there’s fear,” Ben Sasson explained. “The word ‘peace’ has come to sound political. And once something is labeled political, these legacy institutions don’t want to touch it.”
But that avoidance, she warned, comes at a cost.
“They cannot afford to just stick with the same old stale perception of Israel,” she argued. “If you aren’t willing to talk about the real-life issues that Israelis are facing, you simply won’t be relevant anymore — particularly for the young people in your community.”
“Do not be afraid of controversy,” she added. “Do not be afraid to invite an Arab and a Jew to your event, where there may be disagreement. That’s okay. Struggling and wrestling is a core part of our identity.”
While Ben Sasson contends there is a critical mass of people who are hungry for an alternative way to relate to Israel, the question of feasibility remains; the same question that follows the peace movement inside Israel: Does its growing visibility reflect real political momentum, or is it simply too late to reverse course?
To those who are ready to walk away altogether, Ben Sasson points out that Israel stands to lose not only their support, but also the values and organizing traditions American Jews have long brought to the relationship.
“You’ve helped us achieve so many things in Israel for decades,” she said. “You helped us get a state. And now we need a different kind of support. The Jewish values that you offer — the concept of tikkun olam, which is not at the heart of Israeli Judaism but is at the heart of American Judaism — this is the support you can offer us right now.”
Her final plea was simple.
“Do not give up on Israel,” Ben Sasson said. “There have been so many times when things felt insurmountable and you did not give up on us. Don’t give up on us now.”
Rachel Fink is a Tel Aviv-based journalist covering Israel and the Jewish world. Her work has appeared in Haaretz, The Times of Israel, The Jerusalem Report, and Kveller.
This story was originally published on the Forward.
Features
The complete story of the delusional Winnipeg con man who duped people all over the world
By BERNIE BELLAN I have been publishing different chapters from a book I have written about a Winnipeg man who has been telling people for years that he is someone of great wealth who wants to invest in various projects in which those people are engaged.
I’ve now compiled those stories into one large pdf file, which you can read here – or download as a pdf. Simply click on the image below to open the pdf:
