Uncategorized
A new symbol at some Passover seders: an empty seat for Evan Gershkovich, Jewish journalist jailed in Russia
(JTA) — Shayndi Raice, a Wall Street Journal reporter based in Israel, is hoping that Jews around the world dedicate a portion of their Passover seder this week to one of her colleagues, currently detained in a Russian prison.
“This Passover, please consider setting a place at your Seder table for @evangershkovich,” Raice tweeted on Sunday. “As you celebrate freedom, join us in demanding freedom for Evan.”
The call — echoing a tactic used in the 20th-century campaign for the freedom of Soviet Jews — grew louder on Monday as it was shared by prominent personalities from tech journalist Kara Swisher to the former chief rabbi of Moscow to Rabbi Angela Buchdahl of New York City’s Central Synagogue, who said she would be leaving an empty chair at her own seder in honor of Gershkovich, a Moscow correspondent for the Wall Street Journal.
Gershkovich, 31, has been charged with espionage, in a move that human rights organizations are decrying and the Biden administration is fighting. He was arrested Wednesday while he was dining at a restaurant in the city of Yekaterinburg, about 800 miles east of Moscow in the Ural Mountains.
The Wall Street Journal has denied the allegations against Gershkovich, who pleaded not guilty during a court appearance last week, according to Russian state and international media. He reportedly has not been able to speak to an attorney representing him while he is held in the notorious Lefortovo Prison, whose past inmates include the famous Soviet Jewish dissident Natan Sharansky.
Gershkovich is the first American journalist since the Cold War to face spying charges in Russia, which carry a sentence of up to 20 years in prison. People charged with espionage are almost always convicted in Russia, according to the New York Times.
“Let him go,” President Joe Biden said Friday about his message to Russian authorities in Gershkovich’s case, using a phrase that itself is redolent of the Passover story and the Soviet Jewry movement.
The arrest has propelled Gershkovich to the front lines of deepening tensions between the United States and Russia. It has also drawn attention to Gershkovich’s background as the child of Jews who fled the Soviet Union — and renewed questions about whether people like him can be safe in Russia today.
“He cares a lot about his identity as a Jew, and especially his identity as the son of Soviet Jewish immigrants,” his college roommate Jeremy Berke told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency. “I think that was a large part of why he wanted to go back to Russia.”
Gershkovich was born in New York City to Jewish immigrants from the former Soviet Union who left in the late 1970s, when the Communist state briefly opened the gates to emigration for some of its Jewish citizens.
His father is from Odessa — today in Ukraine — and his mother is from St. Petersburg, Time Magazine reported. According to an account published by the Wall Street Journal, the only outlet to which his family has spoken, his mother fled Russia using Israeli documents with her mother, a Ukrainian Holocaust survivor, after hearing rumors that Jews were going to be deported to Siberia.
Gershkovich grew up speaking Russian at home in New Jersey, where he graduated from Princeton High School before heading to Bowdoin College in Maine. After college, he got a job first at the New York Times before moving to Moscow in 2017 to report for the Moscow Times, an English-language news organization that has been a launching pad for multiple high-profile Russia reporters. His reporting there included coverage of Hanukkah celebrations in Moscow. He was hired by the Wall Street Journal in 2021.
His mother told the Journal that Gershkovich had become more interested in his Jewish identity while in Russia, taking her to a synagogue that she had been warned as a child never to enter. “That’s when Evan started to understand us better,” she said.
“Part of his mission was to not only explain Russia to a Western audience, but to really kind of pierce the bubble and tell the stories of Russians themselves, which was something he was able to do, because he’s fluent in Russian,” Berke told JTA.
He said his friend sought to tell “stories that weren’t necessarily just the purely kind of economic stories that you saw coming out of the country, but that were really about what the people were doing — you know, people in synagogues, people in nightclubs, like all aspects of Russian society.”
Like many foreign journalists, Gershkovich left Russia in February 2022, after Russia invaded neighboring Ukraine and turned overnight into a pariah state that intensified its crackdowns on dissenters. But he returned later in the year on the longstanding assumption that foreigners would be insulated from the harsh treatment that Russian journalists can face.
“By detaining the American journalist Evan Gershkovich, Russia has crossed the Rubicon and sent a clear message to foreign correspondents that they will not be spared from the ongoing purge of the independent media in the country.” said the Committee to Protect Journalists. “Authorities must immediately and unconditionally release Gershkovich, drop all charges against him, and let the media work freely and without fear of reprisal.”
Gershkovich had most recently reported on Russia’s declining economic position and was reportedly in Yekaterinburg reporting on the Wagner Group, a Russian mercenary force, and Nizhny Tagil, a factory town where Russian tanks are made.
Wagner’s owner, Yevgeny Prigozhin, joked about Gershkovich and other journalists being found in a mass grave or a torture chamber when reached by the Daily Beast last week. Prigozhin said he had not known about Gershkovich’s arrest at that time.
Julia Ioffe, a fellow Russian-American Jew and journalist, said after Gershkovich’s arrest that the Kremlin takes criticism from people of their background differently than from other journalists.
“Although he was born in the U.S., his parents were immigrants from the Soviet Union, Jewish immigrants,” Ioffe told CNN. “There is a sense in Moscow, especially in the foreign ministry and in the Kremlin, that people of this background — my background — they are particularly sensitive to … our criticism. They feel that it is a different kind of betrayal.”
WSJ’s Evan Gershkovich, detained in Russia for espionage, is about the age @juliaioffe and I were when we met as Moscow reporters. We spoke today about what Gershkovich is facing, particularly as a reporter whose family fled the Soviet Union and how Russia is ‘banking’ hostages. pic.twitter.com/gsUbZz2N0q
— Alex Marquardt (@MarquardtA) March 30, 2023
The former chief rabbi of Moscow who fled Russia shortly after the invasion of Ukraine last year suggested that Russia had targeted Gershkovich because of his identity.
“He just happened to be Jewish, right?” Rabbi Pinchas Goldschmidt sarcastically tweeted last week.
Goldschmidt has emerged as a prominent critic of the Russian government after leaving the country last year, saying that as a prominent rabbi he faced pressure to support Putin’s war.
“When we look back over Russian history, whenever the political system was in danger you saw the government trying to redirect the anger and discontent of the masses towards the Jewish community,” he told the Guardian in an interview late last year.
Gershkovich is not the first American to be arrested in Russia amid rising tensions between the countries. Last year, the basketball star Britney Griner was sentenced to nine years in a Russian prison on drug charges, then traded to the United States in exchange for the release of Victor Bout, a Russian convicted of dealing arms.
In a social media post this weekend, Griner called on the United States to “continue to use every tool possible to bring Evan and all wrongfully detained Americans home.”
The Wall Street Journal has made Gershkovich’s reporting free and produced a video highlighting his importance as a journalist. Meanwhile, Gershkovich’s Jewish supporters are putting their own spin on the campaigns to raise awareness of Gershkovich’s plight and lobby for his release.
“Dear friends, if you are in shul this weekend, please say an extra tefillah for the release of @evangershkovich, a @WSJ reporter and son of Soviet Jewish immigrants, who was detained this week by the Russian government,” tweeted Chavie Lieber, a Wall Street Journal reporter, last week. (Lieber was a JTA reporter in 2012 and 2013.)
On Monday, Raice’s call for a place at Passover seders for Gershkovich was being shared widely.
“A worthy endeavour. However, Evan is not the only political prisoner in Russia and Byelorussia. Thousands of people are being held in prisons in Russia and Byelorussia, among them Alexei Navalny, Vladimir Kara Murza, Ilya Yashin and others, many, who are of Jewish descent,” Goldschmidt, the former Moscow chief rabbi, tweeted. “We should remember all of them, when we celebrate freedom at the Seder table Wednesday evening!”
—
The post A new symbol at some Passover seders: an empty seat for Evan Gershkovich, Jewish journalist jailed in Russia appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Uncategorized
Pinchas, this week’s Torah portion, is hard to stomach today
אין דער פֿריִערדיקער פּרשה האָבן מיר געלייענט, ווי אַזוי דער מואָבֿישער מלך בלק, בשותּפֿות מיטן בייזן כּישוף־מאַכער בלעם, האָט אַרײַנגעשיקט פֿרעמדע פֿרויען צו די ייִדן, כּדי זיי צו פֿאַרפֿירן צו דינען עבֿודה־זרה.
אַהרנס אייניקל פּינחס האָט דערזען, אַז זמרי, דער נשׂיא פֿונעם שבֿט־שמעון האָט אָנגעהויבן אָפֿענערהייט אַן אינטימע באַציִונג מיט אַ געוויסער נישט־ייִדישער פֿרוי, כּזבי. די חז״ל דערקלערן, אַז דאָס איז געווען בלקס טאָכטער. פּנחס האָט אַרויסגעכאַפּט אַ שווערד און דערהרגעט דאָס פּאָרל; אַ מגפֿה, וואָס האָט דעמאָלט געבושעוועט צווישן די ייִדן, האָט זיך אָפּגעשטעלט. הגם פּנחס איז לכתּחילה נישט געווען אַ כּהן, האָט אים דער אייבערשטער פֿאַר זײַן קנאָות געגעבן די כּהונה.
אַן אַנדער וויכטיקער פּערסאָנאַזש, וואָס ווערט שפּעטער באַטראַכט אין דער הײַנטיקער סדרה, איז יהושע בן נון. בײַם סוף פֿון די פֿערציק־יאָריקע וואַנדערונגען אין מידבר, האָט דער אייבערשטער געהייסן משה רבינו פֿאַר זײַן טויט אָנצושטעלן יהושע בן נון ווי דעם קומענדיקן מנהיג פֿונעם גאַנצן כּלל־ישׂראל.
פֿון דער הײַנטצײַטיקער פּערספּעקטיוו, זענען פּנחס און יהושע זייער צווייפֿלהאַפֿטיקע פּערסאָנאַזשן. אין הלכה איז פֿאַראַן אַ באַקאַנטע דעה, לויט וועלכער דער תּורה־איסור חתונה צו האָבן מיט אַ נישט־ייִדישער פֿרוי איז חל בלויז אויף די „שבֿע עממין‟, די זיבן אוראַלטע פֿעלקער פֿון ארץ־כּנען. כּזבי איז געווען פֿון בנות־מדין, אַן אַנדער פֿאָלק. אויב זמרי וואָלט מיט איר חתונה געהאַט, וואָלט עס לויט אַ גאַנצער ריי ראשונים און אַחרונים געווען בלויז אַן איסור מדרבנן. דווקא פֿון דער מעשׂה מיט פּנחסן לערנען מיר אָפּ, אַז אין אַ זעלטענער סיטואַציע קומט פֿאַר אַזאַ אינטימער באַציִונג אַ חיובֿ־מיתה. זמרי האָט פֿאַרבראַכט מיט דער מדינישער פּרינצעסין אָפֿענערהייט, פֿאַר די אויגן פֿון אַ גאַנצן מנין ייִדן, דערפֿאַר האָט פּנחס געהאַט דאָס רעכט זיי צו דערהרגענען בשעת־מעשׂה. ווען כּזבי וואָלט נישט געדינט עבֿודה־זרה, וואָלט פּנחס אויך נישט געטאָרט עס טאָן אַפֿילו אין אַזאַ אויסטערלישער סיטואַציע.
מע קאָן זאָגן, אַז פּנחס איז אַ גאַנצער „אַנטיפּאָד‟ פֿון קורח. קורח האָט געגלייבט, אַז ער מעג אויך דינען ווי אַ כּהן און האָט אָרגאַניזירט אַן אויפֿשטאַנד קעגן משה רבינו. אין אַ געוויסער מאָס, האָט ער געהאַט ריכטיקע משיחישע כּוונות, אָבער אויסגעמישט מיט גאווה. פּנחס האָט דווקא נישט געהאַט קיין ספּעציעלן פּלאַן. כּדי צו פֿאַרטיידיקן די תּורה האָט ער זיך באַנוצט מיט אַ שווערד, און צוליב דעם געוואָרן אַ כּהן. על־פּי קבלה ווערן די כּהנים אַסאָציִיִרט מיט דער מידת־חסד; הגם פּנחס האָט אָנגעווענדט אַ בלוטיקן מעטאָד פֿון זײַן מעשׂה־קנאָות, האָט ער דערמיט אַ פּנים געטאָן אַ גרויסן חסד דעם גאַנצן ייִדישן פֿאָלק.
פֿונדעסטוועגן, קלינגט די מעשׂה שרעקלעך פֿאַר אַ הײַנטצײַטיקן לייענער. מע מעג דרשענען וועגן דער סאָציאַלער סכּנה פֿון געמישטע חתונות, אָבער קיין רבֿ וועט נישט פּראָפּאַגאַנדירן די מעשׂה־קנאָות ווי אַ פּראַקטישן מעטאָד. הײַנט וועט אַ נאָרמאַלער מענטש נישט פֿאָרלייגן צו לייזן סאָציאַל־דעמאָגראַפֿישע פּראָבלעמען מיט אַ שווערד.
די מקובלים און חסידישע צדיקים דערקלערן די אינערלעכע דינאַמיק פֿון דער הײַנטיקער פּרשה. זמרי איז געווען אַן עכטער תּלמיד־חכם. ער האָט געוווּסט, אַז כּזבי האָט אַ ייִדישע נשמה און געוואָלט אויף אַן אויסטערלישן ווילדן אופֿן ווײַזן די אַנדערע ייִדן, אַז צוליב זײַנע פּערזענלעכע השׂגות מעג ער זיך מיט איר מזווג זײַן בפֿרהסיא. פּנחס וואָלט עס געקאָנט פֿאַרשטיין און דן צו זײַן זמרי לכף־ּזכות. דווקא צוליב דעם, וואָס ער האָט אויסגענוצט אַן אומגעוויינטלעכן קנאָות־מעטאָד, האָט דער באַשעפֿער אויף אַ חידושדיקן אופֿן געביטן זײַן כּהונה־סטאַטוס.
אין דער הײַנטיקער סדרה ווערט ווײַטער אַנטוויקלט די טעמע פֿון אומגעריכטע חשבונות. עס טרעפֿן זיך צומאָל זעלטענע סיטואַציעס, ווען אַן אַגרעסיווער אַקט לשם־שמים ווערט אין די אויגן פֿונעם באַשעפֿע פֿאַררעכנט פֿאַר אַ גרויסן חסד.
יהושע בן נון איז אַן אַנדער פֿיגור, וואָס קאָן בײַ אַ מאָדערנעם לייענער אַרויסרופֿן אַ סך קשיות. אויב מע נעמט אָן דעם תּנ״כישן ספֿר־יהושע כּפּשוטו, שאַפֿט זיך אַ פֿינצטערער אײַנדרוק, אַז אונטער זײַן פֿירערשאַפֿט האָבן די ייִדן אויסגעהרגעט גאַנצע פֿעלקער אין ארץ־כּנען. געוויסע מאָדערן־אָרטאָדאָקסישע מפֿרשים טײַטשן אָפּ דעם ספֿר־יהושע שלא־כּשפּוטו. למשל, דער פֿרומער פּראָפֿעסאָר־היסטאָריקער לאָרענס שיפֿמאַן האָט באַמערקט, אַז אין די שפּעטערדיקע תּנ״כישע ספֿרים פֿיגורירן גאַנץ אָפֿט די זעלבע פֿעלקער, וועלכע יהושע האָט, כּלומרשט, אומגעבראַכט. אַ צאָל אַנדערע היסטאָריקער באַטראַכטן יהושע ווי אַ מין רעוואָלוציאָנער, וואָס האָט געקעמפֿט בלויז קעגן געוויסע רישעותדיקע שיכטן, וועלכע האָבן באַזעצט די פֿעסטונג־שטעט אין ארץ־כּנען און האָבן עקספּלואַטירט די פּשוטע באַפֿעלקערונג.
די חז״ל לייזן די דאָזיקע עטישע פּראָבלעם אויף אַן אַנדער אופֿן. פֿאַר יעדער מיליטערישער אַקציע, האָט יהושע פֿאָרגעלייגט די כּנענים זיך אָפּצוזאָגן פֿון עבֿודה־זרה, שלום צו מאַכן מיט די ייִדן אָדער צו אַנטלויפֿן. בלויז די, וואָס האָבן זיך פּרינציפּיעל אָפּגעזאָגט פֿון אַלע אַנדערע אָפּציעס, האָט מען אויסגעהרגעט. דערצו, איז עס געווען דער איינציקער יוצא־מן־הכּלל, וואָס איז חל נאָר אויף די אוראַלטע כּנענישע פֿעלקער, וועלכע זענען שוין לאַנג נישט בנימצא אין דער וועלט.
לויט דער ייִדישער מסורה, האָט יהושע אַליין חתונה געהאַט מיט רחבֿ, אַ געוועזענע כּנענישע זונה, וועלכע האָט זיך מגייר געווען. לויט אַן אַנדער דעה, איז זי געווען בלויז אַ באַרימטע וווּנדער־שיינע בעל־הביתטע פֿון אַ האָטעל, צו וועלכער יעדער מאַן האָט געחלומט זיך אָנצורירן, אָבער למעשׂה האָט זי קיינעם נישט געלאָזט. עס באַקומט זיך אַן אינטערעסאַנטע אינווערסיע פֿון דער מעשׂה מיט זמרי און פּנחס, וואָס ווײַזט קלאָר, אַז נישט אַלע כּנענים האָט יהושע בן נון אויסגעהרגעט מיט אַ שווערד.
אַזוי צי אַזוי, טרעפֿן מיר זיך ווידער אין אונדזער פּרשה מיט אַ פּערסאָנאַזש, וועלכער איז באַקאַנט אין דער ייִדישער טראַדיציע ווי אַ גרויסער נבֿיא און צדיק, אָבער זײַנע מיליטערישע מעשׂים ווערן באַטראַכט ווי אַן אוניקאַלער אויסנאַם, וואָס מע טאָר נישט נאָכמאַכן. וואָס שייך פּנחסן, שטייט אין די פּראַקטישע הלכה־ספֿרים געשריבן, אַז „אין מורין כּן‟. זײַן קנאָות־מעשׂה געהערט צו דער קאַטעגאָריע פֿון ריין־טעאָרעטישע הלכות.
מע קאָן זאָגן, אַז מיט די דערמאָנטע צוויי פּערסאָנאַזשן שליסט זיך אַ גאַנצער ציקל פֿון אומגעוויינטלעכע פּערזענלעכע חשבונות אינעם חומש „במדבר‟. פֿריִער האָבן מיר געלייענט וועגן קרח, דעם משיחישן אויפֿשטענדלער; די מיצווה פֿון „פּרה אדומה‟, וואָס אַפֿילו שלמה המלך האָט זי נישט געקאָנט פֿאַרשטיין על־פּי שׂכל. מיט אַ וואָך צוריק האָט די פּרשה געטראָגן דעם נאָמען פֿון בלק, אַ רשע און שׂונא־ישׂראל, וועלכער האָט פֿאָרט געוויזן אַ מוסטער פֿון מסירת־נפֿש. פּנחס און יהושע בן נון רעפּרעזענטירן אַן אַנדער מין פּאַראַדאָקסאַלע מענטשן: צדיקים, וועלכע האָבן געדינט דעם אייבערשטן מיט אַ שווערד.
די תּורה ווײַזט אונדז אין דער הײַנטיקער פּרשה אַן אינטערעסאַנטן לעבנס־פּאַראַדאָקס. זמריס „פֿרײַע ליבע‟ האָט דערוועקט אין הימל די מידת־הדין, אָבער פּנחסן האָט זיך מיט גוואַלד־מיטלען אײַנגעגעבן צו דערוועקן די געטלעכע מידת־הרחמים. ביידע פּערסאָנאַזשן האָבן דעמאָנסטרירט דעם דאָזיקן פּאַראַדאָקס אויף היפּוכדיקע עקסטרעמע אופֿנים.
The post Pinchas, this week’s Torah portion, is hard to stomach today appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
My city and party are changing. The implications for liberal Jewish New Yorkers could be enormous.
I moved to New York City in the early 1990s. My original commitment was for only one year, but I quickly fell in love with the place. Part of the appeal was the city’s Jewishness.
Everywhere you looked, there were signs of Jewish influence. This was an era where people repeated jokes from Seinfeld by the water cooler. And it was conventional wisdom that any candidate who wanted to hold office in New York had to appeal to the three “I’s” — Italy, Ireland, and Israel.
While being Jewish was not a big part of my identity — I am not religious and have always lived an assimilated life — I immediately felt comfortable in this kind of environment. I intuitively understood the humor and the rhythm of the city. Many prominent New York public officials — figures like Ed Koch and Ruth Messinger — were familiar types that I recognized from my extended family gatherings.
And so I ended up staying put, becoming yet another liberal Jewish New Yorker. For more than 30 years, I never really thought much about these three overlapping identities — liberal, Jew, New Yorker — because I didn’t have to. Nothing could be more natural than being a liberal Jewish New Yorker — the town was practically teeming with people more or less just like me.
The number of Jews in New York has remained basically the same since I first moved here, but the city no longer feels quite as hospitable as it once did. In fact, some prominent commentators and publications have begun asking: Is it still safe for Jews in New York?
This question doesn’t come out of nowhere. The years since Oct. 7, 2023 have been challenging for Jews in New York. The day after the attack, the New York City chapter of the Democratic Socialists of America held a gathering in Times Square to show their support for the Palestinian cause, marching under the banner “by any means necessary.” This was the start of a season of protest that featured encampments and demonstrations at many New York universities.
The energies unleashed by the pro-Palestine protest movement could not be contained on campus. Events kept landing closer and closer to my doorstep. The Israeli restaurant around the corner from my house was vandalized. My friend Andy Bachman, a liberal rabbi, was prevented from speaking at a Brooklyn bookstore because he supports the existence of Israel.
Then, last week, my congressman, Rep. Dan Goldman, went out to get a cup of coffee at Poetica, a café in Brooklyn. Afterward, Poetica posted a photo of him on Instagram, along with a message that the coffee shop does not serve “genocide enablers.” The post added, “Too bad we didn’t recognize you right away, or we would have turned you away.”
This insult was soon followed by (political) injury: Goldman lost his primary to Brad Lander, whose campaign was largely focused on accusing Goldman of not being tough enough on Israel, even though Goldman has been critical of the conduct of the war in Gaza and supportive of imposing conditions on American aid.
All of this is disconcerting, but let’s be clear: Today’s New York City is not Weimar Germany. Rep. Ritchie Torres — among the Democratic Party’s most vocal and consistent defenders of Israel — just won his primary by a wide margin. New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani has repeatedly vowed to protect the local Jewish community. Indeed, Mamdani likely would not have been elected without the support of roughly a third of Jewish voters.
New York City may still be safe for Jews, but what is less clear is whether the default position of many liberal Jews — who are critical of the Netanyahu government and supportive of a two-state solution — still has a place in the Democratic Party, either locally or nationally.
In Exit, Voice and Loyalty, economist Albert O. Hirschmann argued that when people are confronted by a deteriorating situation, they effectively have three options: to accept the decline, to leave, or to stay and fight. Jews have been building institutions and fighting for belonging in New York City for hundreds of years. Abandoning that work now would be a colossal overreaction.
However, liberal Jewish New Yorkers who choose to stay in the city will have to reckon with a changing reality. The demographics of New York have shifted. The Muslim population has grown. Younger New Yorkers have different political instincts than the generations that preceded them.
The recent New York congressional primary victories by three candidates who are extremely critical of Israel are not flukes — they are reflective of a significant turn in public opinion.
There has been a massive erosion of public support for Israel in the United States in recent years, with Americans now expressing more sympathy for the Palestinians than Israelis. Writing in Jewish Currents, Peter Beinart triumphantly announced: “Restricting U.S. support for Israel is no longer politically perilous; it’s politically expedient.”
The question is no longer whether the Democratic Party should include activists who are fiercely opposed to Israel. That ship has sailed. The question is whether the party — and polite society — will follow Poetica’s lead and declare people like Dan Goldman unwelcome.
Is there still a place in the Democratic Party for liberal Jews who believe in Israel’s right to exist? It remains to be seen. But for the first time in more than 30 years, I find myself thinking about the words “liberal,” “Jewish” and “New Yorker” as potentially separable things. I doubt I am the only one.
The post My city and party are changing. The implications for liberal Jewish New Yorkers could be enormous. appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
We’re losing control of AI. Is Judaism the key to keeping it from killing us?
If you always dreamed of working in artificial intelligence, perhaps you studied computer science, or math. Who knows, maybe you did computational biology to better understand how to build a neural network. What you probably never imagined might be useful was Talmud, halakha and Jewish history.
Yet those are exactly the skills Judd Rosenblatt, founder of AI consulting company AE Studios and AI ethics nonprofit the AI Alignment Foundation, is looking for.
Rosenblatt thinks that the evolution of Jewish thought might be core to solving a very specific — and worrying — issue with artificial intelligence.
That issue is recursive self-improvement, or RSI, the process of an AI editing itself, and then editing those edits, and so on — all without humans in the loop, checking its work or even knowing about the changes. This skill is the current holy grail of AI research, because it will allow for exponential speed in improvements; every major AI company is racing toward RSI and, according to rumors, Anthropic has likely already achieved it. That means changes at a speed and scale human brains are not built to comprehend.
But RSI isn’t just a way to quickly improve AI — it is also the end of human control and oversight over artificial intelligence. It’s a sort of Ship of Theseus paradox, which asks whether a boat is the same object after all of its boards have been replaced. If AI rewrites itself over and over, faster and faster, will it cease to be the machine humans created and become something we can’t understand, predict or control? Which is where Rosenblatt’s project comes in.
“How do you make something that is poised to get exponentially smarter than you continue to do what you think is right and good?” he said. “How do we make it such that it does not kill us?”
This project is known in the business as AI alignment — basically, to make sure AI aligns with human values and ethics. The challenge is that AI might edit out those values during its upgrading; we already have evidence that AI will discard certain commands if it concludes they are extraneous or contradictory to its other goals. So the AI needs to believe that these ethical tenets are useful or valuable enough that it doesn’t delete them when it is rewriting itself.
The crux of Rosenblatt’s research is figuring out how to keep those values alive. He’s not only looking at Judaism; he’s also considering the history of thought, immune systems and even bookkeeping for ideas. (He is himself Jewish, raised Reform and bar mitzvahed — and recognized this may give him a bias toward halakha.) He is particularly interested in far-fetched ideas, outside the current Overton window of alignment techniques, none of which he thinks are sufficient for the coming problem of RSI.
“A lot of the biggest breakthroughs in the history of science come from individuals with strong hunches that no one else believed in. But these people chose to stick with their hunches,” Rosenblatt said.
He believes that finding “neglected visionaries” who are outside the norms and might struggle to find funding, and pairing them with a team of engineers and tech-minded experts, could lead to a breakthrough. To do this, he is taking some of the profits from his AI consulting firm AE Studios and putting them into the nonprofit AI Alignment Foundation.
“It’s interesting to study what has survived adversarial pressure over long periods of time. So you can say let’s study things that have survived evolutionary adversarial pressure,” and examine biological survival mechanisms, he said. “And then there’s civilizational adversarial pressure.”
Before the Second Temple was destroyed, Judaism revolved around temple sacrifice and the priesthood. Yet after its destruction, Judaism didn’t die; instead, it became something different.
The reason Judaism survived is not despite the changes, Rosenblatt hypothesizes, but because of them. “I think a tradition that reinterprets nothing is the more fragile one,” he said. “A rule that cannot be bent, cannot adapt to a new world and dies out.”
There are interesting parallels between the structure of arguments in the Talmud and the problem of RSI: Both involve constantly layered, referential rewritings; it even preserves the ideas that do not end up winning the arguments canonized in the writings. In the Talmud, the original text — the Torah — is interpreted into the Mishna, the Gemara and countless later commentaries that shift the practice of the laws over time. Yet certain values remain. Some of Judaism’s traits have even survived an even bigger change: Christianity. Yet even Christianity keeps some of Judaism’s core ideas, like monotheism and pikuach nefesh, the idea that saving a life supersedes any other command.
“It is maybe the best working example that I know of that survived the total destruction, multiple times, of the thing that was it,” Rosenblatt said. “And it did that using mechanisms that it built into itself, on purpose. That is the alignment problem, stated in Jewish terms.”
Another promising angle is the idea of covenant as a relational bond; Jews inherit the covenant, but must also choose to engage with Judaism, and with God, just as the AI might one day have to choose to preserve certain values even as it adapts them.
“Everything that lasts in Judaism is sort of organized around a covenant which endures the transformation from one generation to the next,” he said. “You inherit it, but you also choose to participate in it.”
Of course, Judaism has changed enormously over time — and some people might argue that its core has changed enormously too, with many Jews centering tikkun olam over keeping kosher, for example, or differing widely on Israel or even not believing in God.
But Rosenblatt said this is part of the point; some traits get selected for and last through major changes, and others don’t, just like in evolution. That’s how you winnow it down to its strongest components.
The question is what is that core that remains, and why. Rosenblatt has a lot of ideas. But he didn’t want to tell me what his hunch about Judaism’s eternal core; he doesn’t want to bias anyone. He wants those neglected visionaries to come and tell him their biggest, best ideas. The door is open.
The post We’re losing control of AI. Is Judaism the key to keeping it from killing us? appeared first on The Forward.
