Features
Return to Ukraine: searching out the Rosner family past
Introduction: Not too long ago we were contacted by former CBC Manitoba managing editor Cecil Rosner, who asked us whether we’d be interested in publishing a story about a trip he took in 2012 to visit the area in Ukraine where both his parents were born. Although it’s been 10 years since Cecil visited Ukraine, given the current situation in that country we thought it timely to get a sense of what life was like in Ukraine prior to the Russian invasion.
By CECIL ROSNER ““Oi — look at the way the schlemiel drives.”
We are bouncing along the potholed roads of Western Ukraine, heading from Lviv to my mother’s hometown of Buczacz. Our driver and guide isn’t Jewish, but that doesn’t stop him from endlessly whistling Fiddler on the Roof tunes and inserting Yiddishisms into every second phrase.
“These guys are all ganefs (thieves),” he says of the policemen we pass, as he forms his thumb and forefinger into a pistol and slowly pulls the trigger. Alex doesn’t like the speed traps the highway patrols set up, and he appreciates oncoming drivers signalling him to beware of cops just beyond the next hill. It’s an important issue for our driver, who crisscrosses Ukraine’s roads all year-long, ferrying tourists to distant towns and villages in search of their Jewish ancestors.
For Alex, who holds a history degree and is an expert at tracing genealogical roots, it’s an occupation he never dreamed he would have. But in the chaos of the Soviet Union’s collapse, when jobs were evaporating and everyone was trying to reimagine their lives, it seemed like a useful niche to pursue – especially as foreigners were finally trying to discover exactly what had happened to their relatives during the Second World War.
That’s why I’m here too, along with my wife and a cousin. Both of my parents were born in the region, and both were here when the Nazis occupied the area in 1941. In different improbable and miraculous ways, they both survived the war and emigrated to Canada. But every single other family member was shot, gassed, beaten or starved to death by the Nazis and their collaborators. We came here to see what traces of their lives remained.
It seemed logical to make our first stop the local museum, right across from the old city hall. Buczacz is little more than a village, with about 13,000 people. In the early part of the 19th century, Jews made up two-thirds of the population. While that number ebbed and flowed over the years, Jews were still in the majority when the Nazi occupation began. But that would have been difficult to discern in the museum.
In all the display cases, and in the colourful photo album that the town produces, there is no specific mention of a Jewish population. There is scarcely any reference to the Second World War, except for a notation that the town “was released from German invaders and captured by the Soviet Union.” Wouldn’t a town’s museum want to address what became of the majority of the population? What happened to thousands of farmers, shop owners, tailors, tinsmiths, doctors, lawyers and politicians? Doesn’t the mass roundup and extermination of most people in town even rate a mention?
The only hint of any Jewish presence came in the form of artifacts from the life of Shmuel Agnon, a Jewish writer born in Buczacz who won the Nobel Prize for literature. But the entire fate of the people Agnon wrote about had been erased.
Alex had little luck getting the museum’s employee to throw any light on what the town was like in the immediate pre-war period. She genuinely seemed not to know. But there were a few things I already knew.
My mother, Mina, had been born here in 1913, and her family owned a wholesale distribution company. They carbonated water and stored it in big, forty-litre copper cylinders, shipping them along with ice to shops throughout the area. When she was 25, she married my father, Michael Rosner, who came from nearby Kolomaya. In 1939, they opened a small retail store on the main town square, probably within metres of the present-day museum.
When the war broke out in September 1939, there was a reprieve. The region came under the control of the Soviets, and Jews were under no immediate threat. All that changed when Hitler marched eastward in 1941. My father was conscripted by the retreating Soviets, and my mother was trapped behind Nazi lines for the remainder of the war.
For the next three years, every member of my mother’s family – her parents, five brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles and cousins – were dragged from their hiding places, bludgeoned or shot, or sent off to be executed. They were all dumped into unmarked graves. My parents’ first-born child – my brother – also fell victim, dying at the age of three in 1942.
My mother’s survival defied any normal odds. She fled from one hiding place to another, escaping just in time to avoid capture. She spent 11 months in the attic of a Polish family along with five other Jews. She took an assumed name and boldly convinced the Nazis she was Christian. Finally, after Buczacz was liberated, she re-united with my father and they came to Canada to start anew in 1948.
I had been to Buczacz once before, with my mother, in 1990. We came with a documentary crew to record her first visit back home since the war. It was an emotional trip and a difficult one for both of us. But we learned very little of the actual events that had transpired in the town, or the exact locations where they happened. That’s why, nearly 15 years after my mother’s death, I was returning for a second time.
I convinced Alex that our best strategy on this trip would be to find older people and ask them what they knew about the 30s and 40s. Alex seemed skeptical. For one thing, the war had begun more than 70 years ago, so it was unlikely there would be any useful first-hand witnesses at hand. And there was also the collective amnesia that pertained to inconvenient truths.
After all, a segment of the population had actively collaborated with Hitler. They were instrumental in helping identify and round up the Jews, the Communists, and all the other elements the Nazis wanted to destroy. Some might still be living in Buczacz and surrounding areas. Their children and grandchildren almost certainly are here.
The museum’s employee finally gives us a sliver of hope. There is someone in town we should visit – someone who knows the history and might be able to help us. His name is Mykola.
We drive for a few minutes and stop at Mykola’s house. I am expecting to find an elderly man who may have been a teenager during the war. Instead, we come upon a 40-something man in sweatpants and a Maple Leafs T-shirt. He is clutching a handful of papers and photographs. One of them shows a photo of Buczacz’s surviving Jews standing beside a memorial gravestone in 1944. Out of the original population of 10,000, no more than 100 survived. One of the people in the photo is my mother.
Mykola has taken an interest in wartime history, and now helps visiting tourists locate family remnants. He has a variety of interesting documents, including a map of pre-war street names, and a mid-19th century register of townsfolk. It turns out that he knows about some of the Jewish families that lived in Buczacz during the war – a handful of them have returned over the years, and he has helped them find their old homes and landmarks.
We ask Mykola if he could help solve a puzzle my mother and I couldn’t figure out on our previous trip. Her family had lived on a street called Zeblickevicie, which had changed names several times after the war. From her description, though, we knew it was beside a stream that ran into the Strypa River, a subsidiary of the Dniester.
We pile into the car along with Mykola and he directs us to the location. The stream had been covered over, except at the point where it emptied into the Strypa. Though the original home was no longer there, he shows us the exact location where my mother’s family had lived. I saw the idyllic surroundings, the lush vegetation around the quiet river, and for the first time I had an inkling of the peaceful life my mother experienced before the war changed everything.
While we were all walking along the old Zeblickevicie street, Mykola bumps into a friend and exchanges a few words with him. As we walk on, the friend stops my wife, Harriet, and our cousin Nina and says: “Mina Rosner – I am a Witness.” That is the name of my mother’s book. Alex is impatient. He had rich experience of locals trying to pester visitors, and he was eager to move us all along. But Harriet and Nina persist. It turns out the man on our chance encounter knows all about my mother’s story, and offers to take us on a tour of where she lived, where she went to school, where she hid during the war, and where her family members were killed.
Over the next 24 hours, Alex grudgingly admits he was wrong. Our serendipitous encounter has linked us up with Jura, a 60-year-old retired computer technician, astrologist and local historian. He knows my mother’s exact birthdate, and, it appears, everyone else’s in town. He has a photocopied version of my mother’s book, and he has pieced together her recollections with precise locations of many of the events she describes. If photographic memories actually exist, we figure he has one. He is a visiting tourist’s dream come true, and Alex has to take a back seat while Jura takes us on a remarkable tour of my mother’s life.
The first stop is just around the corner, on a street that used to be called Chechego Maya. I remember it from my mother’s stories, but we could never pinpoint it on our previous trip. Jura shows us the building where my mother’s sister and her husband ran a hardware shop. He knows the address because it’s listed in trade publications of the era. Though my mother’s original house and her parents’ store no longer existed, I finally had an authentic touchstone of some of her family’s life at the time.
Jura takes us to the pre-war building on Kolejowa Street that served as the cheder, the religious school, where Jewish kids studied. We visit the girls’ school and middle school where my mother was a student, and walk into Buczacz’s Sokol theatre, where she watched dramatic performances and movies as a teenager. A group of children is rehearsing a musical concert on stage, and I can imagine my mother sitting in the auditorium with her brothers and sisters and friends.
Just down the road, near an orchard, Jura shows us the garden of a long-ago demolished home where my mother hid during one of the Nazi aktions, or periodic killing sprees. A bunker had been constructed in the cellar, and this helped shield her and other Jews from capture. The Nazis conducted four major aktions during their occupation of Buczacz before declaring the town Judenrein, or completely free of Jews. But the declaration turned out to be false. My mother, along with dozens of others, managed to survive with the aid of courageous gentile families who risked their safety to shelter them.
In the middle of our travels, Jura pulls out a sheet of typewritten names – people who had served as policemen, gendarmes and SS officers during the war. I recognize some of the names. Some of the Nazi war criminals and their collaborators have been brought to justice, but the vast majority remain undetected and untried for their crimes.
We go to the Jewish cemetery, where many of the town’s Jews – including my mother’s parents – were taken to be executed. The place is untended and overgrown, a jumble of brush and junk, with headstones in various states of disrepair. We find my great-grandmother’s grave. It’s significant, because two plots over my mother buried her first-born child, Isaac, in an unmarked plot. I clear away the branches and debris from the group of headstones in the area to get a better view. I bend down and touch the ground where the brother I never met is buried. Exactly 70 years later, someone has come back to this place to remember.
Jura takes me down a path through brambles to a spot where survivors had erected a memorial to the war’s victims. The place is overgrown with trees and bushes now, but he says there was nothing here before the war. The marker no longer survives, and even if it did, it’s unlikely anyone would be able to find it without an expert guide.
Our next stop is Fedor Hill, another killing ground where thousands perished. It’s difficult to see traces of anything here, but Jura once again guides us to a marker commemorating the killing of 450 people during the early days of slaughter in 1941. It had been erected by a survivor’s family well after the war.
A far more prominent memorial on Fedor Hill is dedicated to the UPA, the Ukrainian Insurgent Army, the military wing of a movement that initially collaborated with the Nazis in hopes of winning an independent homeland. In fact, throughout our travels in Western Ukraine, there were numerous new memorials to Ukrainian nationalist fighters in places where it might have been logical to place markers noting the victims of the Nazi era. We saw this on the side of a synagogue in Ivano-Frankivsk, near the Jewish ghetto entrance in Lvov, and many other places. In my father’s hometown of Kolomyia, it was a similar story — no mention of Jews or Nazi victims in the local museum, no remnants of the huge Jewish population, and a patriotic memorial to Ukrainian nationalist figures on the site of a former synagogue. In the re-written history of today, the UPA and its related Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists are presented as groups that fought both Soviets and Nazis; no mention is made of the collaboration in 1941 that led to so much destruction during the war.
Throughout our trip to Ukraine, we were reminded of the upcoming election campaign and the ever-present imagery of Ukrainian nationalism, especially in the Western part of the country. In a land that was exercising its brand of democratic activity, we had to wonder how thoroughly the country had come to grips with its recent history. Many countries are wrestling with related questions, trying to reconcile horrendous events of the past with a way forward. But as in any process or truth and reconciliation, there needs to be an initial recognition of what took place. Erasing and denying the past is rarely the path to building a healthy future.
At the end of our tour in Buczacz, Jura wanted to know the exact date of my mother’s death. He also was interested in our birthdates and any other information he could glean from us. In a country that chooses to forget so much, he was something of an anomaly.
Features
Securing Your Account on PHBingo Login (GameZone)
The rising popularity of online casino platforms like GameZone has attracted many players eager to indulge in their favorite bingo games. As the number of users grows, so does the need for account security. Protecting personal data, playing progress, and account wallets has become vital due to the increase in online threats. Learning effective security techniques for PHBingo Login (GameZone) is essential for players, ensuring both safety and uninterrupted gameplay.
GameZone, a platform that features traditional and modern bingo games, stores sensitive information about user details, progress, and financial data. Without proper precautions, accounts may fall victim to unauthorized access, leading to loss of control, misuse of credentials, and exposure to significant risks. Following preventative measures will allow players to enjoy their favorite games worry-free.
Risks of Unauthorized Access in Online Bingo Play
Players using GameZone or similar platforms need to consider the potential consequences of compromised accounts. The inability to access an account, unauthorized transactions, and losing virtual credits are common issues resulting from poor security. Personal data, such as email addresses or payment information, is also at risk once hackers gain access.
While online casino platforms offer built-in security mechanisms, users carry the responsibility of implementing their own account protection solutions. Taking proactive steps, such as using strong passwords and enabling additional security layers, greatly reduces exposure to risks.
Steps to Secure Your PHBingo Account
1. Set a Strong, Unique Password
Having an easily guessed password, like “123456” or a birthdate, leaves accounts highly vulnerable. Strong passwords are critical for better security and protecting login details.
Strong password elements to consider:
- A combination of uppercase and lowercase letters
- Numbers and symbols
- A length of at least 8–12 characters
Using different passwords for each account ensures that other platforms won’t be compromised if one is hacked. Players should create passwords that are unique and hard to decipher.
2. Enable Two-Factor Authentication (2FA)
Two-factor authentication (2FA) provides an additional security layer on GameZone online platforms. When enabled, it requires a secondary verification code sent to a user’s mobile phone to complete the login process.
Benefits of using 2FA:
- Prevents unauthorized access, even if passwords are exposed
- Adds extra verification for every login attempt
This security feature is highly beneficial for players frequently engaging in multiplayer bingo games or downloading game applications. Gamers reduce unauthorized access risks significantly by implementing 2FA.
3. Avoid Logging in Over Public Wi-Fi
Connecting to GameZone through public Wi-Fi networks puts users at risk. Public or unsecured networks allow cybercriminals to intercept data on the network, including login credentials.
Safer alternatives include:
- Using private and secure network connections at home.
- Avoiding logins from shared or public devices.
- Relying on mobile data for safer gameplay while traveling or away from home.
These preventive measures ensure a secure experience, wherever the player may be.
4. Update Devices and Apps Regularly
Neglected updates on devices or casino platforms expose users to software vulnerabilities. Regular updates deliver patches and fixes to enhance protection against hackers.
Best practices for keeping systems updated:
- Install updates for operating systems and browsers at regular intervals.
- Download GameZone apps and updates officially from trusted sources.
- Avoid using third-party versions of GameZone applications.
Updated devices and applications offer smoother and more secure sessions, ensuring that accounts remain safeguarded.
5. Log Out After Playing Sessions
Failing to log out from GameZone accounts increases the risk of unauthorized access, especially on shared or public devices. Ensuring account disconnection after gameplay is a simple yet effective habit.
Steps to improve logout practices:
- Avoid saving login details when using shared devices.
- Clear cache and browsing data after accessing accounts.
- Make it a point to log out systematically after every session.
Regularly logging out minimizes the chances of account breaches and maintains better security for PHBingo accounts.
6. Beware of Phishing Scams
Phishing scams involve fake emails or messages impersonating official GameZone communications to trick players into revealing login information. These scams often include links to malicious websites posing as the platform’s login page.
Signs of phishing schemes include:
- Emails claiming “urgent account issues” requiring immediate action
- Links to web pages that request sensitive login credentials
- Emails sent from domains that look unofficial or are oddly spelled
Players should always enter their credentials through the official GameZone login page rather than clicking on suspicious links to avoid falling victim to such scams.
7. Monitor Account Activity Regularly
Checking account activity makes it easier to detect and resolve suspicious behavior or unauthorized logins. Reviewing recent account use helps players pinpoint breaches quickly.
Effective steps to manage account activity:
- Change passwords immediately if irregular activity appears.
- Reach out to GameZone support for assistance with securing compromised accounts.
- Monitor recent logins and transactions for unrecognized activities.
Tracking account patterns ensures issues are addressed early, making it easier to control risks.
8. Use Secure Payment and Transaction Methods
Online bingo often involves linking accounts with payment methods. Securing financial data ensures that sensitive information isn’t exploited or mishandled.
Practical payment security tips include:
- Using verified and reputable payment gateways.
- Avoiding unauthorized transactions or sharing of payment details.
- Double-checking URLs to ensure the payment page is official and secure.
Secure payment methods enhance the overall user experience while providing peace of mind for frequent players.
9. Avoid Sharing Account Credentials
Sharing login information with others, even with close friends, increases the risk of unauthorized access or account misuse. Keeping accounts private ensures better control over personal playing progress.
Reasons to avoid sharing login details:
- Reduces the possibility of accidental account misuse.
- Preserves account integrity and progress.
- Prevents unknown individuals from accessing personal information.
Limiting account sharing eliminates these risks and ensures safety for all users.
10. Focus on Responsible Practices Alongside Security
Combining security precautions with responsible practices allows for a safe and balanced experience. GameZone promotes responsible practices by offering reminders and restrictions that prevent excessive gameplay.
By maintaining both security and healthy habits, players can enjoy a fun, worry-free environment.
Enhancing GameZone Experiences Through Security
Secure play for PHBingo accounts begins with adopting strong cybersecurity habits. Simple measures like using complex passwords, enabling two-factor authentication, and avoiding suspicious links create a robust system of protection. Regular account monitoring and updates further help reduce risks associated with online threats.
By reinforcing security steps, users gain confidence in their platforms, ensuring they can focus on enjoying PHBingo and other offerings worry-free.
Features
Today’s Antizionism is Jew-Hatred
By HENRY SREBRNIK The Jewish world has grown darker. I’m not going to compare the anti-Jewish hate that has spread across this and other countries since October 7, 2023, to the Holocaust, but we know that Jewish life has become far more precarious. And so much of the hatred flies under the rubric of so-called “antizionism,” with people claiming that this isn’t “antisemitism.” But this is a false dichotomy. And we know it when we see it.
“Antizionism” is not about the now arcane historical debates that occurred mainly within Jewish communities from the 19th century through 1948, in which those who became Zionists sought to actualize the Jewish ties to biblical Israel and recreate a modern state. By “Zionists,” today’s enemies are not referring to supporters of the 19th century self-liberation movement of the Jewish people, whose goal was to establish a national home. They known little of this history. They’ve never heard of Theodor Herzl, Ahad Ha’am, Ber Borochov, Ze’ev Jabotinsky, or Chaim Weizmann.
As a derogatory slur, a pejorative, it simply means “Jew,” the way earlier words, now archaic, used to. Some call Jews “Zios.” They mean the Jewish people, who exist in opposition to everything good in the world, and who are figures of emblematic wickedness. In this they simply update what Nazis said a century ago. Hitler, too, was an “antizionist,” along with his racial antisemitism. It attacks Jews, here in Western countries like Canada – in the cities where they live, in the universities they attend, in the publishing houses where they send their manuscripts, and in the entertainment world where they act and sing.
Note that it calls itself antizionism, not anti-Israelism, so that the net can grab virtually every Jew who simply wants to see Israel not destroyed – and that’s the vast, vast majority. We Jews know what it means, regardless of what our enemies claim. Would anyone think that the term antisemitism means hatred of Semites?
Clearly a ludicrous idea; it was invented in the 19th century by a German Jew-hater, Wilhelm Marr, to make it sound more “racially scientific.” No one is fooled by that, of course, nor should they be by so-called “antizionism.” In its effects, it is for Jews a distinction with a negligible difference. It is meant to portray Jews as villains, and while it may fool some gullible people, it will deceive very, very few of us.
After all, as Michel Coren noted in “Roald Dahl’s Antisemitism Feels Painfully Familiar,” in the British magazine the Spectator March 16, “most Jewish people do in fact to varying degrees support Israel, partly because centuries of bigotry, violence, massacre, and attempted genocide have given them little alternative. They may oppose Israeli policy, may condemn the current government, may even want radical compromises, but there’s still support. And in the current climate of leftist and Islamist triumphalism, it’s all Zionism and none of it acceptable.”
Anti-Zionism is marked by three core “libels”: that “Zionists” are colonizers, guilty of apartheid, and committing genocide. (Actually, the only time we were settler-colonialists was when we conquered Canaan, but that was God’s doing!) Anti-Israel activists incorporate historical manifestations of anti-Jewish discrimination under the guise of anti-Zionist political activism, from the blood libel to Nazi-era tropes, mixed with contemporary academic theories. Anti-Zionism acts as a container for these historical tropes, blending them together with progressive talking points.
George Washington University professor Daniel Schwartz, in “Vocabulary Lesson,” Jewish Review of Books, Spring 2026, describes a pro-Palestinian demonstration in 2025 at his campus where a student held a placard with Israel at the center and spokes radiating outward to other evils: imperialism, white supremacy, even reproductive injustice. “This is not garden-variety political criticism of Israel policies or conduct. It invokes a symbolic architecture in which the Jewish state becomes the universal source of global suffering — a structure with deep resonance in antisemitic thought.”
Scholars argue that it is the third major iteration of discrimination against Jews. The first was anti-Judaism, based on religion, the second was antisemitism, focused on race, and the third, anti-Zionism, is a hatred of Jewish peoplehood.
“Anti-Zionism transforms the very meaning of Zionism,” contends Adam Louis-Klein. “The Jew is reconstructed through a new symbolic logic and a new repertoire of stereotypes.” Where antisemites invoked the pseudo-biological figure of “the Semite” to cast Jews as an Oriental race infiltrating the West, anti-Zionists invoke the authority of the social sciences to recode the Jew as the “Zionist,” a European colonizer destined to commit genocide of a non-European population.
“Erasing Jewish indigeneity and severing Jewish belonging to the land of Israel, anti-Zionism transforms the race polluter of antisemitism into the white settler of anti-Zionism,” he asserts in his March 24, 2026 Free Press article “Yes, Anti-Zionism Is Discrimination.”
For this reason, he writes, it’s imperative that organizations and institutions committed to protecting Jews and fighting the scourge of Jew-hatred start condemning—clearly and without apology—antisemitism and antizionism. This goes to the moral core of the matter: the right of Jews to a homeland versus the bigotry of those who deny them that right.
After the Holocaust, explicit Jew-hatred became unfashionable in polite society, but the impulse never disappeared. The workaround was simple: separate Zionism from Judaism in name, then recycle every old anti-Jewish trope and pin it on “the Zionists.”
Henry Srebrnik is a professor of political science at the University of Prince Edward Island.
Features
Artificial Intelligence, Sports Data, and What It Means for Community Values
Artificial intelligence is becoming an increasingly visible part of modern life, shaping how information is analyzed and decisions are made. While often discussed in fields such as healthcare, finance, and education, sports analytics provides a particularly clear example of how these systems function in real time. For many readers, the relevance of this topic goes beyond sports itself and speaks to broader questions about technology and community values.
Within Jewish communities, where education, critical thinking, and ethical responsibility have long been central principles, the rise of AI invites meaningful discussion. Understanding how automated systems operate is not only a technical issue but also a cultural and intellectual one. In global digital environments, references to platforms such as 1xbet Republic of Ireland often appear in discussions about real-time data processing, illustrating how widely these technologies are applied.
From Human Judgment to Algorithmic Thinking
Traditionally, interpreting sports performance required human observation and experience. Analysts would review statistics, assess player form, and make informed judgments based on knowledge built over time. While this method remains valuable, it is now being supplemented by artificial intelligence.
AI systems can process large volumes of data instantly, identifying patterns and trends that might otherwise go unnoticed. This shift reflects a broader movement toward algorithmic thinking—where decisions are increasingly informed by data rather than intuition alone.
For communities that place a strong emphasis on learning and inquiry, this raises important questions. How should data be interpreted? What role should human judgment continue to play? And how do we ensure that reliance on technology does not replace thoughtful analysis?
What AI Systems Analyze
Modern AI models draw on a wide range of data inputs to generate insights. In the context of sports, this includes:
- real-time performance data
- historical comparisons
- individual player metrics
- behavioural patterns
- external conditions
The ability to integrate these variables allows AI to produce highly detailed assessments. However, it also creates a layer of complexity that is not always easy to understand.
This challenge is particularly relevant in educational settings. As younger generations become more familiar with technology, there is a growing need to teach not only how to use these systems, but also how to question and evaluate them.
Ethics, Transparency, and Responsibility
The increasing role of AI naturally leads to ethical considerations. In Jewish thought, concepts such as responsibility, fairness, and accountability are deeply rooted and widely discussed. These ideas are highly relevant when considering how automated systems are designed and used.
One of the key concerns surrounding AI is transparency. When decisions are made by complex algorithms, it can be difficult to understand the reasoning behind them. This raises questions about trust and oversight.
Ensuring that AI systems are used responsibly requires a balance between innovation and ethical awareness. Community dialogue plays an essential role in this process, helping to define how technology should align with shared values.
A Community Conversation About the Future
The use of artificial intelligence in sports analytics may seem like a narrow topic, but it reflects a much larger transformation. Across many areas of life, data-driven systems are becoming the norm, influencing how information is processed and decisions are made.
For Jewish communities, this moment presents an opportunity for reflection and engagement. By approaching technology with curiosity, critical thinking, and a strong ethical framework, it is possible to better understand both its potential and its limitations.
Ultimately, the conversation about AI is not just about technology. It is about how communities adapt, preserve their values, and shape the future in a rapidly changing world.