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A group of Israeli emissaries toured a Palestinian museum in DC, and came away with questions
WASHINGTON (JTA) — For Rotem Yerushalmi, a professional campus pro-Israel advocate, what stood out during a recent visit to the Museum of the Palestinian People was an exhibit showcasing different villages’ ceremonial dress.
She strolled past references to the Nakba, which means “catastrophe” and denotes the dispersion of Palestinians during Israel’s War of Independence. And she gazed upon a photograph of an elderly man clutching the key to the dwelling his family left amid that year’s Arab-Israeli war. None of those surprised her.
“The references to the key, the Nakba, were very familiar,” Yerushalmi said. “But the garb! I didn’t know they had different dresses for different areas.”
Yerushalmi was part of a delegation of about 20 Israeli emissaries stationed at U.S. universities that visited the museum late last month. It was the first-ever tour the museum had organized for a group of Israelis.
Like most Jews in Israel, many of them had relatively few interactions with Arabs inside the country, and learned little about Palestinian culture and history in school. But here at the Washington museum, located just a mile from Yerushalmi’s post at Georgetown University, they got a view into a society that is both largely off-limits to them and entwined with their country’s future.
“It’s important because it humanizes each other, I think, for Israelis to hear the Palestinian perspective,” said Bshara Nassar, a Palestinian from Bethlehem who founded the one-room museum in 2019. “Actually having a wall that separates Palestinians from Israelis — there is no way, there is no place to interact.”
The tour was the brainchild of Jonathan Kessler, the former longtime head of student affairs at the American Israel Public Affairs Committee, the pro-Israel lobby. He now helms Heart of a Nation, which organizes people-to-people encounters between young Israelis, Palestinians and Americans — and which marks a turn away from the pro-Israel advocacy he once championed.
“For the first time, maybe in my lifetime, you’ve got young people from all three societies who simultaneously recognize that their politics is stuck and they desperately want to push forward into a better place,” he told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
He worries that unless they move beyond their “narrow communal silos,” young Jews in the United States “will further distance themselves from Israel, young Israelis will turn their back on the pursuit of peace with the Palestinians, and young Palestinians will give up on coexistence with Israel.”
Recommending a tour of the museum, he said, was a way to make that happen. The Jewish Agency for Israel’s Campus Israel Fellows, which brought the emissaries to Washington, D.C., asked him to recommend museum tours for the group, and he suggested the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum, the National Museum of African American History and this tiny, barely known institution.
Mohammed El-Khatib, a docent at the Museum of the Palestinian People, leads a group of Jewish Agency emissaries through the museum in Washington, D.C., March 22, 2023. (Ron Kampeas)
For at least some of the emissaries, the visit had Kessler’s intended effect. Mohammed El-Khatib, the group’s docent, described his experience as a Lebanese-born Palestinian refugee, and told of his family’s flight from their ancestral village during Israel’s War of Independence.
“It opens our mind to hear his perspective, to hear him say that he’s Palestinian, but he’s never been to Palestine, he was born in Lebanon, but he identifies as a Palestinian,” said Lielle Ziv, who works at Cleveland Hillel. “He told a story, and not like, right or wrong, it’s not a black-and-white situation. We can both be right,”
The museum is nestled in a townhouse adjacent to a pet care outlet, a Middle East bookstore and a chocolatier. A similar and larger museum in the Palestinian West Bank city of Birzeit, called the Palestinian Museum, is in territory that is off-limits to Israelis.
At the Washington museum, there was a lot of common ground: A Kurdish Israeli emissary said the keffiyeh in one exhibit reminded him of pictures of his male relatives, who wore similar headdresses before they left Iraq for Israel. El-Khatib was pleased to learn that the Arabic name for Hebron, Al Khalil, has the same meaning as the city’s Hebrew name — a “friend of God.”
One of the Israelis recognized the British Mandate passport on display, which once belonged to a Palestinian woman. His grandmother had one that was identical, he said.
When El-Khatib greeted the group, he said “Marhaba, Shalom,” respectively the more formal Arabic and Hebrew terms of welcome, and the group spontaneously answered with “Ahalan,” a less formal Arabic greeting that is commonplace among Israelis. That delighted El-Khatib.
The group was similarly pleased when he showed off some Hebrew phrases in a pitch perfect Israeli accent, which he said he learned from an Israeli ex-boyfriend. The group then pushed him to spill more details about his ex.
“In campus encounters we’re always kind of on duty,” said Nati Szczupak, the director of the Campus Israel Fellows program. “They’re on duty, right? They’re pro-Palestine. We’re pro-Israel. And it’s very rare that you can just talk and get to those moments of like, ‘Hey, I used to wear that hat too, when I was little.’”
She was referring to an exhibit on different types of Palestinian headwear that included a fez, or traditional Moroccan hat, which elicited a squeal of delight from a Moroccan Jewish emissary who said she had a photo of herself as a toddler sporting one of her ancestors’ fezzes.
“It’s not about facts,” Szczupak said. “We know the facts. What about the narrative? What is your story? We’re not arguing about the facts, but how we experienced them.”
The museum’s exhibits include photographs of Palestinians in Israel, the West Bank and in exile, and are marked by contrasts: images of resistance — of a small boy throwing stones — and of the mundane — of young men playing soccer. Arrays of black-and-white photos from the late 19th and 20th centuries feature celebrations juxtaposed with resettlement in refugee camps.
A case includes Palestinian glassware, pottery and headwear throughout the ages. There was a temporary exhibit of line drawings by a contemporary Palestinian artist, and a wall titled “Making their mark” of prominent Palestinians — including Rashida Tlaib, the Democratic congresswoman from Michigan; the late Edward Said, the literary critic and scholar; the sisters Gigi and Bella Hadid, who are models; and DJ Khaled, the rapper.
The museum does not hold back from addressing the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. The conflict’s most vexing issue — each side’s fear that the other side wants to replace it — was most evident in the museum’s maps: One depicted the scattering of the Palestinians throughout the Diaspora, and others showed how Israel expanded its territory from the land it was given in the 1947 United Nations partition plan.
Outside the museum, while the Israelis were waiting for the tour to start, a pair of the Israel fellows examined a poster for an exhibit, “The Art of Weeping, by a Palestinian artist, Mary Hazboun. The line drawing of a Palestinian mother in a traditional dress, carrying her babies, evoked the map of the entirety of Israel, Gaza and the West Bank — and then some.
“The proportions are interesting,” one said to the other, in Hebrew. “It includes not just Israel and the West Bank and the Gaza Strip, but the Golan Heights and a part of Jordan.”
Ziv said the tour made her think that she “would like more connections” with Palestinians — and it was clear that it was easier to make those connections in Washington than it would be in Tel Aviv or Jenin. El-Khatib said he had never met an Israeli before he moved to the United States.
“When we have Palestinian visitors coming to the museum, they quickly doze off — I mean, to them, it’s more about the achievement of the space,” El-Khatib said. “But when this group came in, I really felt that they were very attentive and hanging on to every word that I said, which was wonderful.”
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His mother is Israeli, his father is Palestinian. His life? Complicated.
Ibrahim Miari begins his one-man autobiographical show, In Between, by spinning in a circle, arms outstretched, his body swaying to the strains of Arabic music and his smiling face lit by the spotlight above.
It’s a lyrical opening that softens up the audience before Miari, who’s a playwright and lecturer, gets to the meat of the play: his identity. His father, we learn, is a Palestinian-Muslim, while his mother is a Jewish-Israeli. (She converted to Islam to marry his father.) Miari doesn’t know how they met, so he concocts a fantasy version, a meet-cute set to a Beatles soundtrack, for this weekday audience at Northeastern University’s Blackman Theater. It’s gooey and romantic, but it prefigures one of the play’s defining motifs — that, political turmoil be damned, all you need is love. If this was perhaps an overly rosy outlook in 2011, when Miari first performed In Between, today it seems positively far-fetched.
Miari’s parents eventually settled in Akko, a mixed Arab-Jewish city on the coast of northern Israel. In the first of a series of episodes from Miari’s childhood, he attends a mainstream Israeli school — over his father’s objections — where he celebrates Israel’s Independence Day and, for a Purim costume contest, dresses up as a garden in bloom, winning first prize. His father tells his son that next year he will dress up as a cactus, the better to let his classmates know they’re on stolen land.
Miari speaks unaccented Hebrew; his teachers and friends call him Avraham. Later, he transfers to a nearby Palestinian-Arabic school, and there he commemorates Independence Day rather differently, as the Nakba, or Catastrophe. His teachers and friends call him Ibrahim.
Such episodes illustrate not just Miari’s duelling cultural obligations, but the difficulties he will face reconciling them — after all, we never see him in an environment where both are equally embraced. (It should be noted we are given his mother’s perspective only too rarely.)
Miari toggles easily, impressively, between his life’s principal characters. Props are only occasionally employed. His eyebrows do much of the heavy lifting: they furrow, and Miari is transformed, no longer a wide-eyed, adolescent Avraham/Ibrahim, but his gloomy father.
At a Canadian summer camp for peace activists, Miari, now an adult, meets and swiftly falls for a Jewish-American woman, Sarah Goldberg — they get engaged, but finding a wedding officiant open to a hybrid ceremony proves difficult. Even a Buddhist cleric (Sarah is a so-called BuJew) turns the couple down. Miari, who has a tendency to over-explain, laments that he’s “not Jewish enough, not Muslim enough, not even Buddhist enough!”
The play’s other set piece is from later in Miari’s life, an airport encounter-turned-interrogation with an El Al security agent suspicious of Miari’s overstuffed suitcase — which he’s borrowed from Sarah. Narrowing his eyes at the suitcase’s name label, the agent says, “You don’t look like a Sarah, and you definitely don’t look like a Goldberg.”
The idea that the agent is an oaf and a bigot is plausible enough, but he’s so much a caricature that the seriousness of Miari’s point, that he’s forever suspended between Arab and Israeli, neither one thing nor the other, gets muddled. Miari gives Sarah’s mother the same treatment: meeting him for the first time, she provides little more than a whistlestop tour of stereotypes of elderly Jewish-American women. It’s grim to watch.
Both characters exemplify In Between’s biggest shortcoming: its lack of subtlety. Sure, it’s a funny play — Miari is a gifted physical comic — but the hijinks don’t really illuminate the challenges of Miari’s Arab-Jewish identity; mostly, they’re a distraction. (Case in point: Miari’s scene partner, when he searches for a wedding officiant, is an eight-foot puppet dressed as an Orthodox Rabbi, which Miari ventriloquizes.)
In short, there’s a poignancy deficit, which is made all the more stark by the play’s standout moment. Near the end, Miari talks directly to the audience about his grandmothers, one Jewish, the other Palestinian, both of whom have passed away. They lived barely five miles from each other, but never met. “I’m sad they won’t see my wedding,” Miari says, “or meet their grandchildren.” He sits glumly on a chair, looking like a lost child. It’s sad and tender, a welcome moment of introspection in an otherwise helter-skelter production.
In Between concludes on an upbeat note, Miari informing the audience that he and Sarah were married in a cross-cultural, officiant-less wedding. Marriage — love — has quieted his existential turmoil, he tells us. He has at last found the belonging he’s coveted for decades.
It’s a sweet message but solipsistic — not least with today’s Middle East as a backdrop. I found it hard to believe Miari’s marriage meant he could forget his decades-long struggle over his split identity, especially when that happy union, at least in the play’s telling, did not address this issue so much as ignore it. Still, it’s an ending in keeping with the play’s broader tone — heavy on humor and shtick, lighter altogether on substance.
The post His mother is Israeli, his father is Palestinian. His life? Complicated. appeared first on The Forward.
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Argentina Blacklists Iran’s Quds Force as Country Marks Death of Nisman, Who Charged Tehran for AMIA Bombing
Argentina’s President Javier Milei attends a commemoration event ahead of the anniversary of the 1994 bombing attack on the Argentine Israeli Mutual Association (AMIA) community center, marking the 30th anniversary of the attack, in Buenos Aires, Argentina, July 17, 2024. Photo: REUTERS/Martin Cassarini
Argentine President Javier Milei has proscribed Iran’s Quds Force — the elite unit responsible for directing Tehran’s proxy militias and overseas terrorist operations — as the country’s Jewish community marks the 11th anniversary of the death of prosecutor Alberto Nisman, who investigated the 1994 bombing of the AMIA Jewish community center in Buenos Aires.
On Saturday, the Argentine president’s office announced that it had designated the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps’ Quds Force as a foreign terrorist organization, describing the unit as specializing in “training for the execution of terrorist attacks in other countries.”
“Argentina was a victim of their operations in the 1990s, including the 1992 attack on the Israeli Embassy in Buenos Aires and the 1994 bombing of the AMIA Jewish community center,” the statement read, referring to the Argentine Israelite Mutual Association (AMIA) bombing.
With the designation, “members of the Quds Force and their allies are subject to financial sanctions and operational restrictions aimed at limiting their capacity to act, as well as protecting the Argentine financial system from being used to support their activities.”
Milei “maintains an unbreakable commitment to recognizing terrorists for what they are,” the statement continued.
— Oficina del Presidente (@OPRArgentina) January 17, 2026
The Argentine president has previously designated Hamas, the Mexican Sinaloa Cartel, and the Muslim Brotherhood’s branches in Lebanon, Egypt, and Jordan as terrorist organizations.
US and Israeli officials praised Milei’s latest move in the fight against terrorism, highlighting its significance in combating international extremist networks.
Israeli Foreign Minister Gideon Saar applauded Milei’s decision, describing it as a “significant step that strengthens the international front against Iranian terrorism and honors the memory of the victims of the attacks on the Israeli Embassy and the AMIA.”
On Sunday, Argentina commemorated the 11th anniversary of Nisman’s death. Nisman died on Jan. 18, 2015, while investigating the 1994 AMIA bombing — the deadliest terrorist attack in Argentine history, which killed 85 people and wounded more than 300 — as Argentine Jews renewed calls for justice after more than a decade without resolution.
“Eleven years after the assassination of prosecutor Alberto Nisman, we reaffirm our steadfast demand for justice,” the Delegation of Argentine Israelite Associations (DAIA), the country’s Jewish umbrella organization, wrote in a post on X.
Last year, prosecutors handling the case released a report as part of the ongoing, still unresolved trial, confirming that Nisman was killed for trying to expose the Argentine government’s role in covering up the 1994 AMIA bombing.
In 2006, Nisman formally charged Iran for orchestrating the attack and its Lebanese terrorist proxy Hezbollah for carrying it out. Nine years later, he accused former Argentine President Cristina Fernández de Kirchner of attempting to cover up the crime and block efforts to extradite the suspects behind the AMIA atrocity in return for Iranian oil.
The alleged cover-up was reportedly formalized through the memorandum of understanding signed in 2013 between Kirchner’s government and Iranian authorities, with the stated goal of cooperating to investigate the AMIA bombing.
One day before Nisman was set to appear before the Argentine Congress to present evidence supporting his allegations against Kirchner and several of her colleagues, he was found dead in his apartment, with a gunshot wound to the head and a pistol at his side.
An official investigation into his death initially concluded that the prosecutor took his own life. However, a federal judge later reversed this decision, stating that Nisman’s gunshot wound could not have been self-inflicted.
Investigations are still underway to identify both those who carried out the act and those who ordered it.
Kirchner is set to stand trial for the allegations against her, though there is no set date.
As for the AMIA investigation, an Argentine federal judge ordered last year the trial in absentia of Iranian and Lebanese nationals suspected of orchestrating the 1994 bombing.
The 10 suspects set to stand trial include former Iranian and Lebanese ministers and diplomats, all of whom are subject to international arrest warrants issued by Argentina for their alleged roles in the terrorist attack.
Lead prosecutor Sebastián Basso — who took over the case after the murder of his predecessor, Nisman — also requested that federal Judge Daniel Rafecas issue national and international arrest warrants for Iran’s Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei over his alleged involvement in the attack.
Despite Argentina’s longstanding belief that Lebanon’s Shiite Hezbollah terrorist group carried out the devastating attack at Iran’s request, the 1994 bombing has never been claimed or officially solved.
Tehran has consistently denied any involvement in any of these attacks and has refused to arrest or extradite any suspects.
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Miami Nightclub Says It Doesn’t Condone Antisemitism After Playing ‘Heil Hitler’ Song for Far-Right Influencers
Group of Nazi sympathizers and far-right online influencers partying at the Vendôme nightclub in Miami Beach, Florida while singing “Heil Hitler” by Kanye West. Photo: Screenshot
A nightclub in Miami Beach, Florida expressed regret over playing the Kanye West song “Heil Hitler” on Saturday night at the request of a group of Nazi sympathizers and online influencers, including Nick Fuentes, who were partying there.
Footage of the incident circulated online over the weekend, showing Fuentes, as well as Andrew Tate, Myron Gaines, “Sneako,” and others, dancing and singing along to the song at Vendôme while in the company of dozens of fellow patrons.
“We want to be unequivocally clear: Vendôme and our hospitality group do not condone antisemitism, hate speech, or prejudice of any kind,” the nightclub said in a statement, responding to criticism from Jewish civil rights groups and lawmakers. “Our ownership and leadership reflect a diverse group of partners, backgrounds, and faiths including members of the Jewish community, and we are deeply disturbed by the harm caused by this incident and the circulation of this footage.”
It added, “We are evaluating additional safeguards and procedures to ensure our venues are not used as platforms for offensive or harmful behavior. We take this matter seriously and will continue to act thoughtfully and responsibly as we complete our review.”
West, the rapper who now goes by Ye, released “Heil Hitler” last year, amid other efforts to promote Nazism. He tried to sell shirts emblazoned with a swastika and made a series of antisemitic comments on X earlier in year. Those social media comments included repeated praise and admiration for Adolf Hitler, the leader of Nazi Germany who oversaw the murder of six million Jews in the Holocaust. West even declared “Im a Nazi [sic]” and “I love Hitler.”
Several of the online influencers have promoted antisemitic conspiracy theories, expressed animus toward Israel, refused to condemn Hitler, and mocked Jewish victims of the Holocaust.
The weekend outing in Miami was noticeably incongruous with the message of Fuentes, a Holocaust denier and white nationalist who advocates a style of asceticism based on a medieval interpretation of Catholicism which, for him, has called for total abstention from romantic relationships with women, applying religion to the secular legal code, and embracing other traditional values which would imply a rejection of the nightlife.
Lawmakers and Jewish civil rights groups have reacted with alarm to the incident, calling it “sickening.”
“Vendôme Miami not only permitted the entry of these modern day Nazis … but proceeded to play ‘Heil Hitler’ upon their request,” StopAntisemitism, which tracks antisemitic incidents across the world, said in a statement.
Meanwhile, Miami Beach Mayor Steven Meiner, said, “These ‘influencers’ who spread hate should never have been welcomed into this club or allowed to play a song with ‘Heil Hitler’ lyrics that have been universally condemned. I have and will continue to fight against hate speech against any group. Antisemitism, hate speech, or the normalization of extremist ideology has no place in our Miami Beach community, our nightlife, or any public setting.”
On Monday, StopAntisemitism reported that Vendôme’s owner, David Grutman, banned the influencers from his properties.
Antisemitism is surging across the US.
Earlier this month, a 19-year-old suspect, Stephen Pittman, was arrested for allegedly igniting a catastrophic fire which decimated the Beth Israel Congregation synagogue in Jackson, Mississippi. According to court filings, he told US federal investigators that he targeted the building over its “Jewish ties.”
“This latest deplorable crime against a Jewish institution reminds us that the same hatred that motivated the KKK to attack Beth Israel in 1967 is alive today,” the Florida Holocaust Museum said in a statement shared with The Algemeiner following news of Pittman’s arrest. “Antisemitism is still trying to intimidate Jews, drive them out of public life, and make houses of worship targets of violence instead of place of safety and community.”
The Anti-Defamation League (ADL) recorded 9,354 antisemitic incidents in 2024 — an average of 25.6 a day — across the US, providing statistical proof of what has been described as an atmosphere of hate not experienced in the nearly 50 years since the organization began tracking such data in 1979. Incidents of harassment, vandalism, and assault all increased by double digits, and for the first time ever a majority of outrages — 58 percent — were related to the existence of Israel as the world’s only Jewish state.
Follow Dion J. Pierre @DionJPierre.