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After I stopped an attack on the subway, the victim and I bonded over Katz’s pastrami sandwiches
(New York Jewish Week) — You definitely don’t want to have what she was having at that moment.
It was December, on a Friday. I was in the tunnel that leads to the subway that runs beneath the American Museum of Natural History on West 81st St. Walking just ahead of me were two women, chatting with each other. I didn’t know them, but I watched as a man, disheveled and bearded, wearing a black knit cap with a sparkly “NYC” on it, came from the other direction. He veered a little too close to the taller of the two. Suddenly, he shifted and grabbed her from behind.
I often wondered what I would do in this situation. Standing only steps away, I no longer had to wonder. After a moment’s hesitation, I sprang into action, grabbing the man and pulling him off her. Then the woman, her friend and I hightailed it through the turnstiles. All in a New York minute.
The woman said she was OK, just worried her attacker would hurt other women. I called 911 but the operator could only speak in subway platforms, not quite grasping it occurred under the museum. How could a visitor be expected to explain the location? And why was there no attendant or police patrol in one of New York’s most visited neighborhoods? I happen to be getting a PhD in tourism studies at Purdue University, but it’s a no-brainer how bad that is for visitors and locals alike.
The 20th Precinct and Transit District 1 responding officers were polite but seemed focused on whether the attack was sexual. Later, the woman would tell me she sensed they thought nothing actually happened, despite a clear crime. “I don’t know,” she said, “one moment I’m walking in the subway and the next someone grabs me from behind. But I wind up OK, so there’s no problem?”
They nabbed the guy, holding him against the tiled wall in the very place the attack occurred. One officer said something like, “He has no ID, no nothing. He’s babbling to himself and doesn’t seem to know where he is.” A sense of pity rose in all of us. The woman did not want to press charges. Even the police were sympathetic, expressing how helping the mentally ill is beyond their capacity. The consensus seemed to be that they would take him somewhere for mental help.
As we waited for the train — mine to Washington Heights, the women’s to Queens — we realized we all had just come from the New-York Historical Society’s “I’ll Have What She’s Having” exhibit on Jewish delis, named for the iconic Katz’s Delicatessen scene in the 1989 film “When Harry Met Sally.” We laughed about what struck us as an ironic way to spend a Friday Shabbat evening days before Hanukkah.
Still perhaps cautious of our surroundings, we shared thoughts about the exhibit. For instance, the surprising amount of Los Angeles material and the signage explaining terms someone Jewish or from New York might take for granted — like mohel or mikvah — and Yiddish words that have long entered the local vernacular, no matter your religion.
The woman who was attacked didn’t want to be identified here, saying “I don’t want people to Google me and this is the first thing they see” — something I understand, having myself been a crime victim in 2014. Later, she texted to say she arrived home safely, adding that, despite the attack, she was “grateful to live in New York, because you restore my faith that people are there for each other.” I don’t think of myself as a mensch or hero. I just did what had to be done. And, like I said, I had a moment’s hesitation.
The situation called for dinner plans. A Jewish deli, of course, considering the circumstances. And it had to be Katz’s.
I arrived at the deli, laden down with a few free Chabad menorahs I picked up along the way after coming from the Union Square Holiday Market. I almost rushed past her standing outside the restaurant, worried about being late. We encountered a chaotic, noisy scene inside, and I realized I had not been there since before the pandemic. A man behind us in the haphazard line, there for the first time, nervously wanted advice. Have what we’re having, I suggested: pastrami on rye with mustard. No cheese, a kosher nod in this place long without such restrictions.
If fate’s bad luck brought us together, serendipity now ruled. Our sandwich maker looked familiar, and I realized he appeared in a video at the deli exhibit. As Esteban pushed our sandwiches over the glass divider, the famous table from the fake orgasm scene in “When Harry Met Sally” suddenly emptied, a family bundling up to leave. I ran to grab it, even mid-sentence talking with Esteban about the exhibit.
Yes, it was touristy! But considering what we had encountered only days before, it was a relief to feel like a tourist in a crowd of tourists. There were locals too, of course, like a diminutive old couple, smiling and saying hello to select tables. We asked a gorgeous Greek tourist we at first thought was an influencer — her dress a one-of-a-kind, hair in flowing, pop queen curls — to snap our picture.
We talked for hours about jobs, travel, family, the men in our lives and how there is no city like New York, with its museums and culture and its ethnic and religious diversity. The ultimate way to say “to life,” l’chaim.
Crime impacts everyone differently, especially when it happens to you. Yet I also know the city is vastly safer than when I was young. At 54, I remember the 1970s, ’80s and ’90s, when murders peaked at something like six a day.
If I learned anything from the subway experience, it is that our time on earth is a gift more precious than anything we might unwrap on Hanukkah or Christmas. And if anyone saw us sitting at that famous Katz’s table wondering why we laughed so much, they should ask to have what we were having: a profound appreciation that, like the sandwiches in front of us, life is delicious and should be enjoyed in big portions, despite what fate throws at us.
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Quotation Marks That Silence Iran
Traces of an Iranian missile attack in Tehran’s sky, amid the U.S.-Israeli conflict with Iran, in Tehran, Iran, April 3, 2026. Photo: Majid Asgaripour/WANA (West Asia News Agency) via REUTERS
There are times when journalism errs not in what it states — but in how it chooses to frame the issue. Quotation marks, the ultimate symbol of fidelity to another’s words, can also become instruments of distortion when stripped of the conditions in which those voices exist: fear, coercion, and imposed silence.
Recently, the British newspaper The Guardian — one of the most influential media outlets in the world — published the following statement from a man in Tehran: “Nothing good can come of this, since obviously the US and Israel don’t give a damn about the Iranian people.”
Presented in quotation marks, the phrase acquires an air of legitimacy. But what is not in quotation marks is precisely what matters most: who can speak freely within Iran.
The statement appeared in an article whose title was, in itself, a warning: “Iran calls on young people to form human chains around power plants as Trump deadline looms.”
The article described an official call for young people to surround power plants as a deadline set by the United States approached, under threat of attack. This was not a marginal detail, but the very core of the report: civilians being summoned to physically occupy potential targets — a practice that, by deliberately exposing the population to risk, violates not only international law, but any basic notion of humanity.
The coverage noted that attacks on civilian infrastructure can constitute war crimes, a correct — but incomplete — statement. It omitted the fact that the use of civilians as human shields, or the deliberate placement of populations in the line of fire, is equally a grave violation of international humanitarian law. This is not an isolated practice: the Iranian regime and its proxies have repeatedly relied on the exposure — and, ultimately, the sacrifice — of civilians as a method of warfare, both in defense and in attack. In its most literal sense, this is terrorism.
The question, then, is not only what this man said, but under what conditions he could have said anything different.
The reality is unequivocal. Estimates from independent organizations indicate that the death toll from the 2026 protests in Iran may have reached as high as 43,000 — people killed for daring to challenge the regime. This is part of a systematic policy of repression.
The executions of young protesters continue, often under charges such as “war against God” — a vague formulation that, in practice, turns dissent into a capital crime. In Iran, disagreement is not merely dangerous. It is, daily, a death sentence.
This pattern is neither new nor incidental. For years, the Iranian regime has exercised strict controls over information, suppressing dissent not only through force, but through fear that shapes what can be said — and what must remain unsaid.
Journalists operate under severe restrictions, and ordinary citizens face imprisonment or worse for statements deemed disloyal. In such an environment, even seemingly spontaneous public opinion becomes inseparable from the boundaries imposed by the state. What is presented to the outside world as a civilian voice may, in reality, be a reflection of survival.
This dynamic is further compounded by the regime’s broader strategy, often mirrored by its regional proxies, of embedding military objectives within civilian spaces. The result is a systematic blurring of lines between combatant and non-combatant — one that not only endangers lives, but also distorts how those lives are represented in global narratives. In Iran, what is said cannot be taken at face value—nor should it be presented as such.
So is it legitimate to treat a statement gathered under a system that punishes dissent with death as an authentic expression of public opinion? Or are we, however unintentionally, amplifying the narrative of a regime that controls words?
When the international press publishes quotes without acknowledging the climate of coercion in which they are spoken, it risks becoming a vehicle for propaganda.
Quotation marks are not neutral. They carry the weight of what can be said — and of everything that has been silenced.
In authoritarian regimes, the question is not only whether we are listening — but what, exactly, we are being allowed to hear. By ignoring context, are we helping create the conditions for Iranians to one day speak freely — or are we helping silence them for good?
Nira Broner Worcman is a Brazilian journalist, CEO of Art Presse Communications, and author of A Sisyphean Task (translated from the Brazilian edition, Enxugando Gelo), on media coverage of the war between Israel and terrorist groups. She was a Knight Science Fellow at MIT and earned her master’s degree at NYU’s Science, Health, and Environmental Reporting Program.
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The Pakistan Gambit: Why Islamabad’s Mediation Should Worry Israel
Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman and Pakistan Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif meet in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, Sept. 17, 2025. Photo: Saudi Press Agency/Handout via REUTERS
The two-week ceasefire between the United States and Iran has been widely celebrated as a triumph of Pakistani diplomacy. Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif has received effusive international praise, and Islamabad has positioned itself as the indispensable broker of a deal that pulled the region back from the edge of catastrophic escalation.
The congratulations, however, are premature. For Israel and for American policymakers thinking seriously about long-term regional security, the architecture of this ceasefire and the identity of its architect should raise as many questions as the ceasefire itself.
Let’s start with what Pakistan actually is in this equation.
Islamabad is not a neutral party in the conventional sense. It shares a long border, and deep cultural and religious ties with Iran. It represents Iranian diplomatic interests in Washington, where Tehran maintains no embassy. It is home to the world’s second-largest Shia Muslim population. It has simultaneously cultivated a strategic partnership with Saudi Arabia and maintains a close alliance with China, which is Iran’s largest trading partner — and which, according to reporting, helped bring Tehran to the negotiating table.
Pakistan’s Foreign Minister coordinated with counterparts from Saudi Arabia, Turkey, and Egypt before flying to Beijing for further consultations. This is not the profile of a disinterested mediator. It is the profile of a state managing an extraordinarily complex set of overlapping interests, some of which are structurally misaligned with the security requirements of the United States and Israel.
Field Marshal Asim Munir’s personal rapport with Donald Trump is real, and it clearly mattered in the final hours before the deadline. But personal rapport is not a substitute for strategic alignment. The same Pakistani military establishment that built this relationship with the Trump White House has also spent decades maintaining ties with actors whose interests are fundamentally hostile to the American-led regional order.
Pakistan does not formally recognize Israel. It has never been part of the Abraham Accords architecture. It has no stake in ensuring that any final agreement with Iran leaves the Jewish State with an enhanced (or acceptable) security environment. Its interest is in ending a war that was disrupting its oil imports, threatening regional stability on its doorstep, and straining an economy already under severe stress. Those are legitimate national interests, but they are Pakistan’s interests, not Israel’s or America’s.
The contradiction at the heart of this ceasefire emerged almost immediately. Sharif declared publicly that the truce covered the conflict everywhere, explicitly including Lebanon. Netanyahu’s office issued a correction within hours, stating clearly that the ceasefire does not extend to Lebanon, where Israel continues operations against Iranian-backed Hezbollah. That is not a minor discrepancy in diplomatic language. It reflects a fundamental divergence in what the parties believe they agreed to.
Iran and Pakistan have an interest in framing the ceasefire as broadly as possible, foreclosing Israeli military options across every front simultaneously. Israel has an interest in preserving its freedom of action in Lebanon, which remains a live theater of operations with direct implications for its northern security. The fact that the broker of this deal publicly endorsed the Iranian and Pakistani interpretation, rather than the Israeli one, tells you something important about where Islamabad’s equities actually lie.
Then there is the deeper problem of what Iran brought to the table. The framework Tehran submitted includes demands for the lifting of all sanctions, release of frozen assets, American military withdrawal from regional bases, war reparations, and explicit recognition of Iran’s right to nuclear enrichment. This is not the negotiating position of a country that has been strategically defeated. It is a maximalist agenda that, if accepted in whole or in part, would leave Iran in a stronger regional position than it occupied before the war began.
The Iranian leadership has been explicit internally that it views the ceasefire as a validation of its wartime objectives. That self-assessment should be taken seriously. Regimes that believe they have won tend to negotiate accordingly.
The Islamabad talks will be shaped by this opening dynamic. The United States enters those negotiations having accepted Iran’s 10-point proposal as a workable basis for discussion, under time pressure, brokered by a state with deep ties to Tehran and no relationship with Israel. The agenda will be set by the parties who designed the framework. Iran’s nuclear file, its ballistic missile program, and its proxy network across the Levant will all be subject to negotiation in an environment that is structurally tilted toward Iranian preferences.
Israel’s task in the coming two weeks is to ensure that Washington understands the distinction between ending a war and ending a threat. A ceasefire that reopens the Strait of Hormuz while leaving Iran’s centrifuges operational is not a security achievement. It is a commercial arrangement with an existential footnote. A final agreement that includes American military retrenchment from the region under Iranian pressure is not stability. It is the precondition for the next conflict, fought under worse conditions.
Pakistan may have earned its diplomatic moment. But the morning and days after a ceasefire is when the real negotiation begins, and Israel cannot afford to let Islamabad write the terms.
Amine Ayoub, a fellow at the Middle East Forum, is a policy analyst and writer based in Morocco. Follow him on X: @amineayoubx
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How South Africa Embraced Iran — and Isolated Its Own People
South African President Cyril Ramaphosa in Chatsworth, South Africa, May 18, 2024. Photo: REUTERS/Rogan Ward
It’s sometimes tough to be a proud South African. Not because of the place or her people, but because the African National Congress (ANC), the political party that leads our current “government of national unity” and which was once the party of Nelson Mandela, has become an abject embarrassment — and destroyed the ideals it was founded on.
On the domestic front, they have led the country into ruin, as massive levels of governmental incompetence and corruption have led to literally crumbling infrastructure, ruinous public institutions, massive wealth inequality, and one of the highest violent crime rates in the world.
And yet, however disgraceful the ANC has been in local matters, they’re even worse in foreign policy, where the government has aligned itself with the absolute worst, most despotic regimes on the planet. But more than cozying up to Putin’s Russia and Xi’s China, it’s the ANC’s close relationship with the Islamic Republic of Iran (and its proxies) that is the darkest stain on its increasingly tarnished reputation.
The ANC and the Islamic Republic: Brothers in Arms
The ANC and the Islamic Republic have over the years built a relationship that is almost romantic in its intensity and faithfulness. Never has the ANC had a bad word to say about the regime, and never has the regime failed to correspond in kind. Though, of course, the ANC’s loyalty is not entirely freely given reports that it clearly enjoys some financial support from the Islamic Republic.
Either way, whether out of misplaced loyalty to their “fellow revolutionaries” or mercenary self-interest, the ANC has stood by the Islamic Republic through thick and thin; through its nuclear ambitions, its persecution of religious minorities, and its mass murder of tens of thousands of innocent protesters.
The South African government was one of the few around the world to mourn the death of Ali Khamenei — and even as it has effectively cut diplomatic ties with Israel, even refusing the offer of Israeli NGOs to help solve the country’s water problems and to help fix our decrepit national health services, it proudly hosts all sorts of senior Iranian regime officials and maintains ever close ties to the Iranian embassy here.
Unsurprisingly, the ANC’s years-long relationship with the Islamic Republic intensified almost exponentially in the immediate aftermath of October 7, 2023. South Africa and the ANC immediately shifted the focus from the Israeli victims, to Palestinians who it said were experiencing “genocide,” “war crimes,” and “apartheid” before Israel’s defensive war even started.
Aside from taking Israel to international court, the ANC supported all of the attacks taken by Iran and its proxies against Israel. And then came the current war between Iran and the combined forces of the United States and Israel, and things took a bit of a turn once again.
Of Moral Bankruptcy and Terrible Alliances
To those of us paying attention, it’s been all but impossible to miss how different the ANC’s role has been in this war. The Islamic Republic clearly hasn’t used the ANC to constantly legitimize its cause or to propagate its propaganda in the way it did during the Gaza war. It doesn’t need to.
The ANC has already played its role perfectly in turning Israel into the ultimate aggressor on the world stage, and with President Trump’s historically low popularity both at home and abroad, the Islamic Republic may have already won what may be the most crucial battle for its survival: the war over public opinion.
And yet, even as the ANC tries to walk a fine line in not alienating Washington completely and has tried to present itself as a neutral party in the war — even offering to mediate talks between the Islamic Republic and the US — its allegiances remain as clear as ever.
Though it’s hardly the first liberal-democratic government to chafe with the Trump administration, the ANC-captured Department of International Relations and Cooperation (DIRCO) has seemingly done everything in its power to antagonize Trump. Don’t get me wrong, Trump being Trump, a lot of this is his fault, especially with his insistence on there being a “white genocide” happening in South Africa and being decidedly undiplomatic in his thoughts on the ANC. But he’s also right about certain things. There really is no “white genocide” — as President Ramaphosa pointed out correctly, it’s not a question of race but of a high crime rate that targets everyone equally (this is somehow good news?) — but Trump is hardly imagining the ANC’s incompetence or its troubling tight relationships with the enemies of the free world.
The simple, inescapable truth is that the ANC is far more tolerant of tyrants and Islamist theocracies than it is of its fellow liberal-democracies.
Regardless of what you think of the current war in Iran, the ANC’s behavior towards the Islamic Republic since it massacred its own citizens by the tens of thousands over just a couple of days, has been nothing less than disgraceful.
It has also created an environment in South Africa where institutions fall directly in line with its terrible foreign policy. The University of Pretoria, for example, has stoked all kinds of controversy for its decision to “platform” the Islamic Republic’s ambassador to South Africa, while the University of Cape Town has decided to bestow an honorary doctorate on Imtiaz Sooliman, the “philanthropist” and founder of Gift of the Givers, known for his antisemitic statements — and especially his concerning ties to various radical Islamist groups.
A Million Wrongs Make a Right?
There is, however, a silver lining or two in all of this. The ANC is such an unmitigated train wreck at this point that it might be good that it is currently standing so fully on the wrong side of history. It has shown itself to be so wildly incompetent, corrupt, and morally twisted that it would almost be worse if it stood with America and Israel in all of this.
More hopefully, South Africa itself may benefit most from the ANC’s dreadful alliances, ironically. Ten years ago, the thought of the ANC losing power in the country was all but unthinkable — but given what’s happened over the past decade, that might be changing.
What is truly miraculous about all this, though, is that despite everything, South Africa genuinely remains a great place to be a Jew. Yes, there is still some antisemitism and like all Diaspora communities we still need armed security at our shuls, schools, and communal events, but despite the ANC’s best efforts to ingratiate itself to our very worst enemies, there is far less antisemitism here than in most countries and, at least within broadly Jewish and/or cosmopolitan areas, seldom any real need to hide our Jewishness.
And it is of the greatest of all possible ironies that we largely have the ANC to thank for this. At least the version of it that was around in 1994 — that crafted such an inclusive constitution and did its very best to engender a society where bigotry of any sort is entirely unacceptable. Except, of course, to sing “Kill the Boer.”