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An 1859 fight over how to make matzah has lessons about the threat of AI today
(JTA) — In the last few months the world has been dazzled by an astonishing sequence of AI systems capable of performing all kinds of difficult tasks — writing code, composing poetry, generating artwork, passing exams — with a level of competence that rivals or exceeds what humans can do. The existence of these AIs has prompted all manner of soul-searching about the nature of humanity. It has also made many people wonder which human tasks are about to be taken over by machines.
The capabilities of these AIs are new and revolutionary, but the story of machines taking over human jobs is not. In Jewish history the most important story of that transition has to do with matzah, and it’s a story that carries important lessons for the present day.
Starting 164 years ago, dozens of European rabbis engaged in a furious debate that would not be fully resolved until the beginning of the 20th century. Matzah, which for millennia had been made by human hands in accordance with the narrow constraints of Jewish law, could now be processed with a series of machines that promised huge savings of time and money. As town after town adopted these machines, opposition began to rise, until it exploded in 1859 with the publication of “An Alert for Israel,” a collection of letters from prestigious rabbis, who adamantly argued that for anyone interested in following the laws of Passover a matzah made with a machine was no better than a loaf of bread.
The arguments for this position were many, but all will sound familiar to anyone following the AI conversation. Like today, some objected to the machines just because they were new and different, but most had more specific concerns. First, there was the matter of lost jobs. In many parts of Europe matzah was made by the poorest members of society, who were given the job as a way to help them raise money before one of the most cost-intensive holidays of the year. Ceding this job to machines would take work from those who could least afford it.
It takes about 20 seconds in a 1,300-degree, coal-and-wood-fired oven to bake shmurah matzah to perfection. (Uriel Heilman)
Beyond economics, there was concern that the machines just weren’t as reliable as people, especially given the rules around matzah-making outlined in Jewish law. What if bits of dough got trapped in the gears, quietly leavening for hours and unknowingly ruining whole batches of matzah in the process? What if the trays warmed the dough too fast? Without proper oversight, how could you trust your own food?
Finally, some objected to the loss of a literal human touch. Jewish law stated that matzah was supposed to be made by people who knew they were baking matzah. A machine, no matter how sophisticated, didn’t “know” anything. How could you eat matzah on Passover knowing that this most important food was made by a mindless machine?
The responses didn’t take long to arrive. “A Cancellation of the Alert,” a collection published the very same yearr, forcefully argued that machine matzah was perfectly fine — and possibly even better than the human product. No, inventions aren’t inherently bad. No, the machines wouldn’t harm the poor, because the machines made matzah less expensive for everyone. No, the machines weren’t prone to error — and they certainly weren’t more error-prone than lazy, careless humans. No, the machines didn’t know what they were doing — but the people who built them did, and wasn’t that enough?
The machines eventually won, but then something happened that I don’t think either side anticipated. With Manichewitz’s machine matzahs claiming most of the American market by the early 20th century, it was now the handmade matzah makers who were on the back foot; it was they and not the machines who needed to demonstrate that they were up to the difficult task of preparing this food with the efficiency and reliability of the machines.
The result is more than a little tragic. Matzah is the Jewish food with the deepest origins of all — deeper than brisket, deeper than latkes, deeper even than challah — and yet it is the ritual food most likely to be picked up at the supermarket and least likely to be made at home. While there are still communities today that exclusively eat handmade matzah, even this job is now largely outsourced to just a few companies that resemble their machine-driven counterparts in scale. While teachers will sometimes demonstrate how to make matzah for educational purposes, across the religious spectrum the era of locally made matzah is over.
Despite the fact that it’s hard to imagine a simpler baked good — matzah is just flour and water, and it’s literally illegal to spend more than 18 minutes making it — its production is treated as though it is only slightly less complicated than constructing a jet engine, and people are worried about shortages as though matzah were a natural resource or an advanced microchip. The transition has been so complete that we barely remember there was a transition at all.
Baked matzah coming out of the oven at Streit’s Matzo factory on Manhattan’s Lower East Side, date unknown. (Courtesy Streit’s Matzo)
Did the rabbis pushing for machine matzah know this was going to happen? Almost certainly not. The economic impact of machine labor is relatively easy to predict, but the psychological and cultural effects are a lot harder. There was probably no way of knowing how machines would change the way we thought about matzah in the long run, but today it’s clear that automating this ancient task has changed our own relationship to Passover’s central food — and because the change has resulted in a lot of alienation from matzah production, I’m not so sure it was a change for the better. Making matzah locally could have been a way to feel connected to the ancient Israelites, who left Egypt so fast that they didn’t have time to make anything else. Instead of emulating this ad-hoc food, we optimized it for cost and efficiency, in the process turning matzah into just another specialty cracker on the grocery store shelf. Was it really worth it?
It’s probably a bit much to say that OpenAI is just a modern Manischewitz, but the parallels between the debate about machine-generated matzah and the present debate about machine-generated everything are useful for considering how short-term policy choices around AI won’t necessarily capture all of the technology’s long-term effects on how human beings want to spend their time. When we relinquish an activity to an AI for economic reasons, we may eventually come to believe that humans are no longer qualified to do the task at all.
Then as now we must balance our economic needs against our ideas about what kinds of activities make for a good and fulfilling life.
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The post An 1859 fight over how to make matzah has lessons about the threat of AI today appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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In ‘The Secret Agent,’ a peek into Brazilian Jewish history — and a warning against propaganda
When we first meet Marcelo in the fiction film The Secret Agent, the only thing that’s clear is that he’s on the run — we’re not sure that Marcelo is his real name, who he’s on the run from, or why. As the story, set in 1977 Brazil, unravels, we learn government officials and hired killers are working together to take Marcelo down and strip him of any credibility he had in his pre-fugitive life — even if that means manipulating the press.
But the film also spends time on the characters Marcelo meets while hiding among others being persecuted by the military dictatorship in the city of Recife, illustrating the diversity of the people affected by the fascist regime.
One of those characters is a man many assume is an escaped Nazi; in fact, however, he is a Holocaust survivor.
The audience’s introduction to the survivor, Hans, played by German actor Udo Kier in his final film role before his death, is not a pleasant one. A corrupt police chief named Euclides brings Marcelo to Hans’ tailor shop, insisting there is something interesting he must see there. Euclides then forces Hans to lift his shirt and show his scars — something Euclides clearly regularly has the man to do as we can see by Hans’ immediate sour reaction to the chief.
Euclides believes the intense, sprawling scar tissue tells a glorious military story of a Nazi who evaded capture.
“He’s just fascinated with, I don’t know, maybe Nazi Germany, with the German soldier, or the idea of the German soldier,” explained director Kleber Mendonça Filho in a video interview. “And he seems to have a one track mind in terms of thinking that Hans, because he’s German, must have been a heroic soldier in the German army in the Second World War, which explains why he’s still alive.”
But, as the audience learns through a conversation Hans has with an employee in German — and a shot of the menorah he has tucked away in his office — he is actually a Jewish Holocaust survivor. His wounds are a testament to surviving violent antisemitism, not markers of fighting for militaristic ideals the police chief believes they share.
“Identity can be on your body,” Filho said. “In the scars that you have, in the tattoos that you have, in the way that you have collected physical experience throughout life.”
Like many of the elements in the film, the character of Hans was inspired by Filho’s own memories of growing up in Recife during the Brazilian military dictatorship, known for its violent suppression of media and political dissidents, that ruled the country from 1964-1985. Even though Filho was only 9 years old at the time the film is set, he remembers a lot from that time in his life, including an old Romanian tailor his father visited in the downtown area that they recreated in the film.
Filho combined this character from his life with the experience of growing up in an area with a strong Jewish presence. Recife was the site of Brazil’s first organized Jewish community, which consisted of Dutch Jews, who arrived with other Dutch colonialists, and Sephardic Jews escaping the Portuguese and Spanish Inquisitions. Between 1636 and 1640, these Jews built the first synagogue in the Americas, Kahal Zur Israel, which was turned into a museum in 2001.
In 1654, the Portuguese expelled Dutch Colonists and Jews from Brazil, but another wave of Jewish immigration from Eastern Europe in the 1910s revitalized Recife’s Jewish population. Even though Filho isn’t Jewish, he had a lot of Jewish friends throughout his life, even styling the marine biologist in the film off of one of them.
Although The Secret Agent takes place in 1977, Filho saw events similar to those he wrote into the film play out around him under the presidency of Jair Messias Bolsonaro, which lasted from 2019 to 2023.
Filho said that “a lot of the logic of what was happening under the Bolsonaro regime seemed to mimic” the military regime of the 20th century “in a fetishistic way.”
“Words like torture were now being thrown around,” he said, “misogynistic treatment of women in words that would be questionable in 1977 and completely alien and unacceptable today.”
Filho said the country also experienced a renewed period of racism and xenophobia under Bolsonaro, encouraged by the policies of the government. And those were sometimes overtly inspired by admiration for Nazi Germany; then-Special Secretary Roberto Alvim was removed from his post after just a few months for plagiarizing a speech from Nazi Propaganda Minister Joseph Goebbels.
Today, in the United States, many are worried that Nazis are being reimagined as the good guys, as Holocaust deniers like Nick Fuentes are given increased attention by news pundits and the Trump administration normalizes relations with the far-right groups.
Much of the plot of The Secret Agent concerns the rewriting of history through propaganda and media censorship. And the intimate and abusive interaction between the police chief and Hans feels like a particularly salient demonstration of how easily facts can be written over to fit the world someone might want to see.
The post In ‘The Secret Agent,’ a peek into Brazilian Jewish history — and a warning against propaganda appeared first on The Forward.
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Hamas’s Grip on Gaza NGOs Exposed as World Plans Post-War Rebuilding Efforts
Palestinians gather to collect aid supplies from trucks that entered Gaza, amid a ceasefire between Israel and Hamas, in Khan Younis, in the southern Gaza Strip, Oct. 11, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Ramadan Abed
As world powers outline multi-billion-dollar plans to rebuild Gaza, newly obtained documents reveal that Hamas has long run a coordinated effort to penetrate and influence NGOs in the war-torn enclave — contradicting years of denials from major humanitarian organizations.
On Wednesday, NGO Monitor — an independent Jerusalem-based research institute that tracks anti-Israel bias among nongovernmental organizations — released a new study revealing how Hamas has for years systematically weaponized humanitarian aid in Gaza, tightening its grip over foreign NGOs operating in the territory and exposing patterns of complicity and collaboration that contradict the groups’ persistent denials.
While international media has repeatedly accused Israel of unfairly and illegally targeting humanitarian NGOs, Israeli officials have long argued that many of these groups have been infiltrated and manipulated by Hamas, the Palestinian terrorist group that has ruled Gaza for nearly two decades — with the extent of NGO involvement far deeper than their public statements suggest.
Dozens of internal Hamas documents are now being published, providing systematic evidence and even detailing the officials tasked with coordinating and overseeing the Islamist group’s interactions with international NGOs.
According to the documents, Hamas officials designated specific points of contact with “highly respected” international NGOs, including Doctors Without Borders, Oxfam, Save the Children, and the Norwegian Refugee Council.
Referred to as “guarantors,” these Hamas-approved senior officials at each NGO allowed the terrorist group to closely oversee activities, influence decision-making, and circumvent restrictions imposed by some Western governments on direct engagement with Hamas.
Gerald Steinberg, founder and president of NGO Monitor, said the newly released study offers a crucial guide for the US and its allies to vet aid partners, emphasizing the need to carefully screen NGOs to prevent a repeat of Hamas’s domination of Gaza’s reconstruction efforts.
“This research is timely and highly consequential,” Steinberg said in a statement. “Governments and international organizations are planning to provide billions of dollars for the rebuilding of Gaza, and will partner with numerous NGOs to reconstruct infrastructure, provide municipal services like utilities and education, and probably distribute cash payments.”
“We now know which NGOs and their local affiliates have been propping up the Hamas terror regime,” he continued.
The study also found that at least 10 “guarantors” — senior NGO officials — were not just Hamas-approved, but were also members, supporters, or employees of Hamas-affiliated authorities, who leveraged their positions in numerous NGOs to create Hamas-approved beneficiary lists for UN and other aid programs.
According to one of the obtained internal documents, Hamas conducted extensive surveillance of NGO officials in Gaza, noting that the “guarantors” across 48 NGOs “can be exploited for security purposes” to infiltrate foreign organizations and listing the names and personal details of 55 individuals already serving in those roles.
The document also explicitly outlines the terrorist organization’s intent to further develop or compel “guarantors” to serve as intelligence assets.
The findings appear to corroborate the concerns of many experts and Israeli officials, who have long said that Hamas steals much of the aid flowing into Gaza to fuel its terrorist operations and sells the remainder to Gaza’s civilian population at an increased price. Jerusalem has also said that aid distribution cannot be left to international organizations, which it accuses of allowing Hamas to seize supplies intended for the civilian population. According to UN data, the vast majority of humanitarian aid entering Gaza during the Israel-Hamas war was intercepted before reaching its intended civilian recipients.
With NGOs in Gaza — both local and international — required to secure Hamas’s approval to provide services and run projects, the report shows the group wields veto power over humanitarian operations, allowing it to control, manipulate, and exploit aid to advance its political and military objectives.
“NGO Monitor’s groundbreaking report proves that Hamas controls all humanitarian operations in Gaza, on an institutional level and an individual one,” Naftali Shavelson, NGO Monitor international spokesperson, said in a statement.
“There is no NGO freedom of operation in Gaza. And most crucially, never once did NGOs say anything about this Hamas infiltration,” he continued. “If anything, they issued statements blaming their inhibited operations on Israel – thus ignoring the problem and allowing Hamas to continue harming Gazans.”
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NYC principal turns down Holocaust survivor’s talk over his ‘messages around Israel and Palestine’
(JTA) — A New York City public school principal turned down a parent’s request to host a talk by Holocaust survivor Sami Steigmann, citing content in his presentation that related to “Israel and Palestine.”
In an email to the parent on Nov. 18, the principal of the Brooklyn middle school MS 447, Arin Rusch, said that she believed that hosting Steigman’s presentation was not “right” for the school.
“In looking at his website material, I also don’t think that Sami’s presentation is right for our public school setting, given his messages around Israel and Palestine,” Rusch wrote in an email obtained by the New York Post.
Rusch added that she would “love to explore other speakers” who could talk about the Holocaust and antisemitism. The Post did not name the parent.
Steigmann, 85, speaks frequently about his experiences as a child survivor of the Mogilev-Podolski labor camp from 1941 to 1944, according to his website. During the Holocaust, he was also subjected to Nazi medical experiments and starvation, though he says he does not remember the experiences. His website describes him as a motivational speaker “who lives to tell his story.”
While it was unclear what part of Steigmann’s website Rusch allegedly took issue with, Steigmann’s PowerPoint presentation, which is found on his site, features an Israeli flag as the backdrop of a number of slides.
There is also a slide labeled “Zionism,” which includes various assertions about the founding of Israel, including a definition that Zionism is the “Right of the Jewish people to feel safe and secure in their homeland” and a bullet point calling Zionism a “social justice movement for the Jewish people.”
In a video shared on Facebook by StandWithUs, a nonprofit that trains students in pro-Israel advocacy, Steigmann is seen urging the students to intern with the organization.
On Steigmann’s Instagram page he has also frequently reposted commentary on Israel and antisemitism, including one post from July where he wrote that “Palestine was Jewish before it became Israel.”
Steigmann told The Post that he believed it was wrong for Rusch to deny his presentation, adding that he doesn’t discuss Middle East politics in public schools and would have accommodated a request for him to avoid the subject.
“She didn’t even have the courtesy to call me,” Steigmann told The Post.
The rejection drew condemnation from The Blue Card, a nonprofit that supports Holocaust survivors and with which Steigmann is affiliated.
“It is outrageous that a Holocaust survivor was denied the chance to speak to students,” said Masha Pearl, the executive director of The Blue Note, in a statement. “His testimony as a child survivor of a Nazi labor camp is not political. It is history. Silencing him at a moment of rising antisemitism is dangerous and deeply wrong, and makes New York City less tolerant.”
Pearl also called on Rusch to meet with The Blue Note to discuss Holocaust education as well as on New York City Public Schools Chancellor Melissa Aviles-Ramos to “condemn this act and open an investigation.”
In a statement to the Post, the New York City Department of Education said that it evaluates every speaker to ensure they “maintain political neutrality.”
“We do not shy away from teaching history in our classrooms, and we are proud to have welcomed many Holocaust survivors into our schools, including MS 447, to share their stories. We thoroughly evaluate every classroom speaker and are careful to ensure speakers maintain political neutrality, especially on contentious current events, as required in a public school setting,” Department of Education spokeswoman Nicole Brownstein told The Post.
JTA sought comment from the NYC Department of Education, Mayor Eric Adams’s office and the principal, but did not receive responses.
Moshe Spern, the president of the United Jewish Teachers, an advocacy group. also criticized the rejection in an email on Nov. 26 to Brooklyn District 15 Superintendent Rafael Alvarez and aides for Aviles-Ramos.
“Although [Rusch] mentions that [she] would be open to other speakers, this begs the question of are we now censoring Holocaust survivors for their views on Israel,” wrote Spern. “This action by Principal Rusch is extremely inappropriate and I expect this situation to be remedied immediately.”
New York City Mayor Eric Adam’s office also told The Post that while he was committed to ensuring students hear from Holocaust survivors, Steigmann “wasn’t the right fit.”
“Mayor Adams is dedicated to ensuring all New Yorkers — particularly our students and young adults — hear stories from the genocide and oppression of the Holocaust, so we never again perpetrate such evil,” a City Hall spokesman told The Post. “While this speaker wasn’t the right fit, we will continue to ensure our students hear from the living survivors of this history into the future.”
The post NYC principal turns down Holocaust survivor’s talk over his ‘messages around Israel and Palestine’ appeared first on The Forward.