Features
Pogroms in Poland and Ukraine in 1920-21 presaged what was to follow 20 years later
Review by MARTIN ZEILIG Pogrom is a Russian word meaning ‘‘to wreak havoc, to demolish violently,” says the online Holocaust Encyclopedia on the United States Holocaust Museum website.
“Historically, the term refers to violent attacks by local non-Jewish populations on Jews in the Russian Empire and in other countries. The first such incident to be labeled a pogrom is believed to be anti-Jewish rioting in Odessa in 1821.
As a descriptive term, “pogrom” came into common usage with extensive anti-Jewish riots that swept the southern and western provinces of the Russian Empire in 1881–1884, following the assassination of Tsar Alexander II.
“The perpetrators of pogroms organized locally, sometimes with government and police encouragement. They raped and murdered their Jewish victims and looted their property. During the civil war that followed the 1917 Bolshevik Revolution, Ukrainian nationalists, Polish officials, and Red Army soldiers all engaged in pogrom like-violence in western Belorussia (Belarus) and Poland’s Galicia province (now West Ukraine), killing tens of thousands of Jews between 1918 and 1920.”
In this rigorously researched, powerful book, award winning historian Jeffrey Veidlinger presents us with, as an earlier reviewer wrote, the first full depiction of the wave of anti-Jewish pogroms that followed the Russian Revolution “and how they laid the groundwork for the Holocaust.”
Veidlinger is a graduate of McGill University and a professor of history and Judaic studies at the University of Michigan. His books, which include “The Moscow State Yiddish Theatre” and “In the Shadow of the Shtetl”, have won a National Jewish Book Award, the Barnard Hewitt Award for Outstanding Research in Theatre History, two Canadian Jewish Book Awards, and the J.I. Segal Award. He lives in Ann Arbor, Michigan.
“In the years after the Holocaust, survivors around the globe began compiling memorial books, one for each city and town,” the author writes in his introduction, “‘Will a Slaughter of Jews Be the Next European Horror?’”
But, as he notes, such memorial books are not only histories of the prewar period; they are also histories of the war itself.
“Take, for instance, the memorial book from the town of Proskuriv, located in today’s Ukraine. The book’s title, “Khurbn Proskuriv”, captures the calamity the city endured. The Yiddish world khurbn (‘destruction’), a term derived from the Hebrew word hurban, denotes the destruction of the two biblical temples in the sixth century BCE and the first century CE—and has been used to describe an array of other disasters, from earthquakes to the sinking of the Titanic. After the Second World War, it became widely understood to refer to the fate of European Jewry under the Nazis.”
What differentiates “Khurbn Proskurov” though, is that it was written in 1924—nine years before Hitler’s rise to power and 15 years before the start of the Second World War, Veidlinger writes.
“The destruction of Prokuriv took place a year after the establishment of a Ukrainian state that promised broad freedoms and national autonomy to its Jewish minority, and three months after the armistice of November 11, 1918, that ended the Great War. Delegates from thirty-two nations had just gathered in Paris to work out the treaties that would formally cap what H.G. Wells called ‘the war that will end war.’”
Meanwhile, 1300 miles to the east, on the afternoon of February 15, 1919, Ukrainian soldiers murdered over a thousand Jewish civilians “in what was at the time the single most deadliest episode of violence to befall the Jewish people in their long history of oppression.”
The massacre in Proskuriv was not an isolated event.
“Between November 1918 and March 1921, during the civil war that followed the Great War, over one thousand anti-Jewish riots and military actions—both of which were commonly referred to as progroms – were documented in about five hundred different locales throughout what is now Ukraine, and which was at the time contested territory between Russian, Polish, Ukrainian, and multinational Soviet successor states of the Russian and Austro-Hungarian empires,” Veidlinger states.
He observes that a closer analysis of the progroms of 1918-1921 shows them not only to be ethnic riots carried out by enraged townsfolk and peasants, but also military actions perpetrated by disciplined soldiers, including some units of the Red Army committing atrocities.
“Thus, what happened to Jews in Ukraine during the Second World War, then, has roots in what happened to the Jews in the same region only two decades earlier,” Veidlinger maintains.
In April 1920, Polish and Ukrainian forces advanced toward Kyiv from the north, beginning what came to be known as the Polish-Soviet War.
“Their goal was to challenge Bolshevik ascendency in the region and reclaim the historic lands of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth,” the author writes.
“One study submitted to the Jewish Public Committee in January 1921 on the basis of material gathered by the Society for the Protection of the Health of the Jewish Population blamed Bulak-Balachowicz for the murder of 435 Jews in 17 locations between October and November 1920. The society also counted a total of 617 incidents of sexual assault in seven towns, including the repeated rape of a twelve-year old child by three officers. The report held locals responsible for having actively participated in the progroms, or at least having done nothing to stop them.”
Veidlinger includes photographs and eyewitness accounts of this gruesome sequence of pillage, brutality and murder in Eastern Europe during those years leading up the Second World War. Even, as he intones, in the midst of civilized Europe.
“Life went on in the 20 years between 1921 and 1941:…From the fields of Ukraine to the halls of the world’s parliaments, decent people reached out to their Jewish neighbours, heeded the warnings of Jewish activists and worked to make the world a better, more civilized place,” the author notes.
“The tragedy is that it wasn’t enough.”
At one point Veidlinger quotes US President Bill Clinton during a visit to Kigali, where he acknowledged the historic failure to prevent the 1994 Rwandan genocide: “Each bloodletting hastens the next, as the value of human life is degraded and violence becomes tolerated, the unimaginable becomes more conceivable.”
Lest we forget.
“In the Midst of Civilized Europe: The Pogroms of 1918-1921 and the Onset of the Holocaust”
By Jeffrey Veidlinger (Harper Collins
466 pg. $39.99)
Features
So, what’s the deal with the honey scene in ‘Marty Supreme?’
By Olivia Haynie December 29, 2025 This story was originally published in the Forward. Click here to get the Forward’s free email newsletters delivered to your inbox.
There are a lot of jarring scenes in Marty Supreme, Josh Safdie’s movie about a young Jew in the 1950s willing to do anything to secure his spot in table tennis history. There’s the one where Marty (Timothée Chalamet) gets spanked with a ping-pong paddle; there’s the one where a gas station explodes. And the one where Marty, naked in a bathtub, falls through the floor of a cheap motel. But the one that everybody online seems to be talking about is a flashback of an Auschwitz story told by Marty’s friend and fellow ping-ponger Béla Kletzki (Géza Röhrig, best known for his role as a Sonderkommando in Son of Saul).
Kletzki tells the unsympathetic ink tycoon Milton Rockwell (Kevin O’Leary) about how the Nazis, impressed by his table tennis skills, spared his life and recruited him to disarm bombs. One day, while grappling with a bomb in the woods, Kletzki stumbled across a honeycomb. He smeared the honey across his body and returned to the camp, where he let his fellow prisoners lick it off his body. The scene is a sensory nightmare, primarily shot in close-ups of wet tongues licking sticky honey off Kletzki’s hairy body. For some, it was also … funny?
Many have reported that the scene has been triggering a lot of laughter in their theaters. My audience in Wilmington, North Carolina, certainly had a good chuckle — with the exception of my mother, who instantly started sobbing. I sat in stunned silence, unsure at first what to make of the sharp turn the film had suddenly taken. One post on X that got nearly 6,000 likes admonished Safdie for his “insane Holocaust joke.” Many users replied that the scene was in no way meant to be funny, with one even calling it “the most sincere scene in the whole movie.”
For me, the scene shows the sheer desperation of those in the concentration camps, as well as the self-sacrifice that was essential to survival. And yet many have interpreted it as merely shock humor.
Laughter could be understood as an inevitable reaction to discomfort and shock at a scene that feels so out of place in what has, up to that point, been a pretty comedic film. The story is sandwiched between Marty’s humorous attempts to embarrass Rockwell and seduce his wife. Viewers may have mistaken the scene as a joke since the film’s opening credits sequence of sperm swimming through fallopian tubes gives the impression you will be watching a comedy interspersed with some tense ping-pong playing.
The reaction could also be part of what some in the movie theater industry are calling the “laugh epidemic.” In The New York Times, Marie Solis explored the inappropriate laughter in movie theaters that seems to be increasingly common. The rise of meme culture and the dissolution of clear genres (Marty Supreme could be categorized as somewhere between drama and comedy), she writes, have primed audiences to laugh at moments that may not have been meant to be funny.
The audience’s inability to process the honey scene as sincere may also be a sign of a society that has become more disconnected from the traumas of the past. It would not be the first time that people, unable to comprehend the horrors of the Holocaust, have instead derided the tales of abuse as pure fiction. But Kletzki’s story is based on the real experiences of Alojzy Ehrlich, a ping-pong player imprisoned at Auschwitz. The scene is not supposed to be humorous trauma porn — Safdie has called it a “beautiful story” about the “camaraderie” found within the camps. It also serves as an important reminder of all that Marty is fighting for.
The events of the film take place only seven years after the Holocaust, and the macabre honey imagery encapsulates the dehumanization the Jews experienced. Marty is motivated not just by a desire to prove himself as an athlete and rise above what his uncle and mother expect of him, but above what the world expects of him as a Jew. His drive to reclaim Jewish pride is further underscored when he brings back a piece of an Egyptian pyramid to his mother, telling her, “We built this.”
Without understanding this background, the honey scene will come off as out of place and ridiculous. And the lengths Marty is willing to go to to make something of himself cannot be fully appreciated. The film’s description on the review-app Letterboxd says Marty Supreme is about one man who “goes to hell and back in pursuit of greatness.” But behind Marty is the story of a whole people who have gone through hell; they too are trying to find their way back.
Olivia Haynie is an editorial fellow at the Forward.
This story was originally published on the Forward.
Features
Paghahambing ng One-on-One Matches at Multiplayer Challenges sa Pusoy in English
Ang Pusoy, na kilala din bilang Chinese Poker, ay patuloy na sumisikat sa buong mundo, kumukuha ng interes ng mga manlalaro mula sa iba’t ibang bansa. Ang mga online platforms ay nagpapadali sa pag-access nito. Ang online version nito ay lubos na nagpasigla ng interes sa mga baguhan at casual players, na nagdulot ng diskusyon kung alin ang mas madali: ang paglalaro ng Pusoy one-on-one o sa multiplayer settings.
Habang nailipat sa digital platforms ang Pusoy, napakahalaga na maunawaan ang mga format nito upang mapahusay ang karanasan sa laro. Malaking epekto ang bilang ng mga kalaban pagdating sa istilo ng laro, antas ng kahirapan, at ang ganap na gameplay dynamics. Ang mga platforms tulad ng GameZone ay nagbibigay ng angkop na espasyo para sa mga manlalaro na masubukan ang parehong one-on-one at multiplayer Pusoy, na akma para sa iba’t ibang klase ng players depende sa kanilang kasanayan at kagustuhan.
Mga Bentahe ng One-on-One Pusoy
Simpleng Gameplay
Sa one-on-one Pusoy in English, dalawa lang ang naglalaban—isang manlalaro at isang kalaban. Dahil dito, mas madali ang bawat laban. Ang pokus ng mga manlalaro ay nakatuon lamang sa kanilang sariling 13 cards at sa mga galaw ng kalaban, kaya’t nababawasan ang pagiging komplikado.
Para sa mga baguhan, ideal ang one-on-one matches upang:
- Sanayin ang tamang pagsasaayos ng cards.
- Matutunan ang tamang ranggo ng bawat kamay.
- Magsanay na maiwasan ang mag-foul sa laro.
Ang simpleng gameplay ay nagbibigay ng matibay na pundasyon para sa mas kumplikadong karanasan sa multiplayer matches.
Mga Estratehiya mula sa Pagmamasid
Sa one-on-one matches, mas madaling maunawaan ang istilo ng kalaban dahil limitado lamang ang galaw na kailangan sundan. Maaari mong obserbahan ang mga sumusunod na patterns:
- Konserbatibong pagkakaayos o agresibong strategy.
- Madalas na pagkakamali o overconfidence.
- Labis na pagtuon sa isang grupo ng cards.
Dahil dito, nagkakaroon ng pagkakataon ang mga manlalaro na isaayos ang kanilang estratehiya upang mas epektibong maka-responde sa galaw ng kalaban, partikular kung maglalaro sa competitive platforms tulad ng GameZone.
Mas Mababang Pressure
Dahil one-on-one lamang ang laban, mababawasan ang mental at emotional stress. Walang ibang kalaban na makaka-distract, na nagbibigay ng pagkakataon para sa mga baguhan na matuto nang walang matinding parusa sa kanilang mga pagkakamali. Nagiging stepping stone ito patungo sa mas dynamic na multiplayer matches.
Ang Hamon ng Multiplayer Pusoy
Mas Komplikado at Mas Malalim na Gameplay
Sa Multiplayer Pusoy, madaragdagan ang bilang ng kalaban, kaya mas nagiging komplikado ang laro. Kailangan kalkulahin ng bawat manlalaro ang galaw ng maraming tao at ang pagkakaayos nila ng cards.
Ang ilang hamon ng multiplayer ay:
- Pagbabalanse ng lakas ng cards sa tatlong grupo.
- Pag-iwas sa labis na peligro habang nagiging kompetitibo.
- Pagtatagumpayan ang lahat ng kalaban nang sabay-sabay.
Ang ganitong klase ng gameplay ay nangangailangan ng maingat na pagpaplano, prediksyon, at strategic na pasensiya.
Mas Malakas na Mental Pressure
Mas mataas ang psychological demand sa multiplayer, dahil mabilis ang galawan at mas mahirap manatiling kalmado sa gitna ng mas maraming kalaban. Kabilang dito ang:
- Bilisan ang pagdedesisyon kahit under pressure.
- Paano mananatiling focused sa gitna ng mga distractions.
- Pagkakaroon ng emosyonal na kontrol matapos ang sunod-sunod na talo.
Mas exciting ito para sa mga manlalarong gusto ng matinding hamon at pagmamalasakit sa estratehiya.
GameZone: Ang Bagong Tahanan ng Modern Pusoy
Ang GameZone online ay isang kahanga-hangang platform para sa mga naglalaro ng Pusoy in English. Nagbibigay ito ng opsyon para sa parehong one-on-one at multiplayer matches, akma para sa kahit anong antas ng kasanayan.
Mga feature ng GameZone:
- Madaling English interface para sa user-friendly na gameplay.
- Real-player matches imbes na kalaban ay bots.
- Mga tool para sa responsible play, tulad ng time reminder at spending limits.
Pagtatagal ng Pamanang Pusoy
Ang Pusoy card game in English ay nagpalawak ng abot nito sa mas maraming players mula sa iba’t ibang bahagi ng mundo habang pinapanatili ang tradisyunal nitong charm. Sa pamamagitan ng mga modernong platform tulad ng GameZone, mananatiling buhay at progresibo ang Pusoy, nakakabighani pa rin sa lahat ng antas ng manlalaro—mula sa casual enjoyment hanggang sa competitive challenges.
Mula sa maingat na pag-aayos ng mga cards hanggang sa pag-master ng estratehiya, ang Pusoy ay isang laro na nananatiling relevant habang ipinapakita ang masalimuot nitong gameplay dynamics na puno ng kultura at inobasyon.
Features
Rob Reiner asked the big questions. His death leaves us searching for answers.
Can men and women just be friends? Can you be in the revenge business too long? Why don’t you just make 10 louder and have that be the top number on your amp?
All are questions Rob Reiner sought to answer. In the wake of his and his wife’s unexpected deaths, which are being investigated as homicides, it’s hard not to reel with questions of our own: How could someone so beloved come to such a senseless end? How can we account for such a staggering loss to the culture when it came so prematurely? How can we juggle that grief and our horror over the violent murder of Jews at an Australian beach, gathered to celebrate the first night of Hanukkah, and still light candles of our own?
The act of asking may be a way forward, just as Rob Reiner first emerged from sitcom stardom by making inquiries.
In This is Spinal Tap, his first feature, he played the role of Marty DiBergi, the in-universe director of the documentary about the misbegotten 1982 U.S. concert tour of the eponymous metal band. He was, in a sense, culminating the work of his father, Carl Reiner, who launched a classic comedy record as the interviewer of Mel Brooks’ 2,000 Year Old Man. DiBergi as played by Reiner was a reverential interlocutor — one might say a fanboy — but he did take time to query Nigel Tufnell as to why his amp went to 11. And, quoting a bad review, he asked “What day did the Lord create Spinal Tap, and couldn’t he have rested on that day too?”
But Reiner had larger questions to mull over. And in this capacity — not just his iconic scene at Katz’s Deli in When Harry Met Sally or the goblin Yiddishkeit of Miracle Max in The Princess Bride — he was a fundamentally Jewish director.
Stand By Me is a poignant meditation on death through the eyes of childhood — it asks what we remember and how those early experiences shape us. The Princess Bride is a storybook consideration of love — it wonders at the price of seeking or avenging it at all costs. A Few Good Men is a trenchant, cynical-for-Aaron Sorkin, inquest of abuse in the military — how can it happen in an atmosphere of discipline.
In his public life, Reiner was an activist. He asked how he could end cigarette smoking. He asked why gay couples couldn’t marry like straight ones. He asked what Russia may have had on President Trump. This fall, with the FCC’s crackdown on Jimmy Kimmel, he asked if he would soon be censored. He led with the Jewish question of how the world might be repaired.
Guttingly, in perhaps his most personal project, 2015’s Being Charlie, co-written by his son Nick he wondered how a parent can help a child struggling with addiction. (Nick was questioned by the LAPD concerning his parents’ deaths and was placed under arrest.)
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None of the questions had pat answers. Taken together, there’s scarcely a part of life that Reiner’s filmography overlooked, including the best way to end it, in 2007’s The Bucket List.
Judging by the longevity of his parents, both of whom lived into their 90s, it’s entirely possible Reiner had much more to ask of the world. That we won’t get to see another film by him, or spot him on the news weighing in on the latest democratic aberration, is hard to swallow.
Yet there is some small comfort in the note Reiner went out on. In October, he unveiled Spinal Tap II: The Beginning of the End, a valedictory moment in a long and celebrated career.
Reiner once again returned to the role of DiBergi. I saw a special prescreening with a live Q&A after the film. It was the day Charlie Kirk was assassinated. I half-expected Reiner to break character and address political violence — his previous film, God & Country, was a documentary on Christian Nationalism.
But Reiner never showed up — only Marty DiBergi, sitting with Nigel Tuffnell (Christopher Guest), David St. Hubbins (Michael McKean) and Derek Smalls (Harry Shearer) at Grauman’s Chinese Theater in Los Angeles. The interview was broadcast to theaters across the country, with viewer-submitted questions like “What, in fact, did the glove from Smell the Glove smell like?” (Minty.) And “Who was the inspiration for ‘Big Bottom?’” (Della Reese.)
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- Carl Reiner On Judaism, Atheism And The ‘Monster’ In The White House
- Mandy Patinkin On His Favorite ‘Princess Bride’ Quote
DiBergi had one question for the audience: “How did you feel about the film?”
The applause was rapturous, but DiBergi still couldn’t get over Nigel Tuffnell’s Marshall amp, which now stretched beyond 11 and into infinity.
“How can that be?” he asked. “How can you go to infinity? How loud is that?”
There’s no limit, Tuffnell assured him. “Why should there be a limit?”
Reiner, an artist of boundless curiosity and humanity, was limitless. His remit was to reason why. He’ll be impossible to replace, but in asking difficult questions, we can honor him.
The post Rob Reiner asked the big questions. His death leaves us searching for answers. appeared first on The Forward.