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Bosnian Jews mourn Moris Albahari, one of Sarajevo’s last Ladino speakers

(JTA) — Moris Albahari, a Holocaust survivor, former partisan fighter and one of the last Ladino speakers in Bosnia and Herzegovina’s dwindling Jewish community, passed away at the age of 93 last month.

It is believed that he was one of four native Ladino speakers remaining in a country where the Judeo-Spanish language once flourished and was spoken by  luminaries like Flory Jagoda, the grande dame of Ladino song, and Laura Bohoretta, the founder of a uniquely Sephardic feminist movement in Bosnia.  

Bosnia’s small Jewish community — with barely 900 members throughout the country, 500 of whom live in Sarajevo — are mourning the loss of a living link to communal memory as well as a dear friend. 

From you, uncle Moco, I learned a lot about Judaism, about life, about nature and especially about people. About both the good and the evil,” Igor Kožemjakin, the cantor of the Sarajevo Jewish community, wrote in a memorial post on Facebook, referring to Moris as “Čika,” or uncle, a term of endearment in Bosnian. 

“It is a terrible loss, especially for Sarajevo. Our community is very small, especially after the Holocaust,” Eliezer Papo, a Sarajevo-born Jew and scholar of Ladino language and literature at Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency. “We’re not speaking just in terms of prominent members of the community, we’re speaking in terms of family members. Everyone is like a family member.”

When Albahari was growing up in the 1930s, the Jewish community of his native Sarajevo numbered over 12,000. Jews made up more than a fifth of the city and it was one of the most important centers of Jewish life in the western Balkans.

In his youth, the city was part of what was then the Kingdom of Yugoslavia. Formed out of the borderlands between the Ottoman and Austro-Hungarian empires, it was a multiethnic state composed of Croats, Serbs, Bosniaks, Slovenians, Macedonians, Hungarians, Albanians and more. Among them were many Jewish communities both Ashkenazi and Sephardic.

The unique mix of of Muslim, Jewish, Catholic and Orthodox Christian communities, with their mosques, synagogues and churches defining Sarajevo’s skyline, earned the city the nickname “Little Jerusalem.”

Speaking in a 2015 documentary made by American researchers, “Saved by Language,” Albahari explained that his family traced their roots back to Cordoba before the Spanish Inquisition, and through Venice, before settling in what would become Bosnia when it was part of the Ottoman Empire.

We didn’t want to ‘just’ write an article about Moris or Sarajevo; we wanted [the audience] to see what we saw and hear what we heard,” Brian Kirschen, professor of Ladino at Binghamton University, who worked on the documentary with author Susanna Zaraysky, told JTA. “This resulted in a grassroots initiative to create the documentary.” 

In the film, Albahari takes the researchers and their viewers on a tour through what was Jewish Sarajevo, giving glimpses of the thriving Ladino speaking community in which he was raised and explaining how ithe language would save him many times, when the Nazis and their Croat allies, the Ustaša, came to shatter it. 

In sharing your story of survival during the Holocaust, you opened doors that remained closed for decades,” Kirschen said in a memorial post on Facebook. “Some of your stories were even new to members of your family, but each survivor has their own timeline. While you experienced great pain during your life, from your story, we also learn about moments of kindness and heroism. Through your story, you also taught us about the power of language.” 

Albahari wasn’t yet a teenager when, in 1941, Nazi Germany and Mussolini’s Italy invaded Yugoslavia. The Nazis occupied the eastern portion of the country, including what is now Serbia, while they raised up a Croat fascist party, known as the Ustaša, to administer the newly formed “Independent State of Croatia” — often known by its Serbo-Croatian initials, NDH — in the western regions that included the modern-day Bosnia and Herzegovina. 

The Ustaša collaborated in the Nazis’ genocidal plans for Europe’s Jewish and Roma comunities, and they had genocidal designs of their own for the Orthodox Serb communities living in the NDH.

To that end they established the Jasenovac concentration camp, which would become known as the Auschwitz of the Balkans. By the war’s end it had become the third largest concentration camp in Europe, and behind its walls the overwhelming majority of Sarajevo’s Jews — at least 10,000 — were massacred. Including Serbs, Jews, Roma and political dissidents of Croat or Muslim Bosniak background, as many as 100,000 people were killed in Jasenovac. 

Albahari was 11 years old when the Ustaša came to deport him and his large family to Jasenovac. A former teacher working as an Ustaša guard in the town of Drvar, where the train stopped, warned Albahari’s father, David, about their destination, and he was able to help his son escape from the train. 

The teacher helped guide the young Moris to an Italian soldier named Lino Marchione who was secretly helping Jews.

This was the first case when Albahari’s Ladino came in handy. Ladino is largely based on medieval Spanish, with a mixture of Hebrew, Aramaic, Turkish and other languages mixed in. For speakers of Serbo-Croatian, a Slavic language, it’s entirely incomprehensible. But for a speaker of another Romance language such as Italian, it’s not such a stretch to understand, and Moris was able to converse with his Italian savior.

With his family gone, he was taken in by a Serb family, and changed his name to Milan Adamovic to hide his Jewish identity. Still, by 1942, it became clear that neither as Adamovic nor Albahari would he be safe in the town. So he fled to the mountains. 

“If there was [a battle] I took clothes from a dead soldier to wear, I lived like a wolf in the mountains, you know. Visiting villages [asking for something] to give me for eating, it was a terrible time,” Albahari recalled in “Saved By Language.” 

He would only feel safe in villages under the control of partisan forces. Yugoslavia was the only country in Europe to be liberated from Nazi rule by its own grassroots resistance. 

During his time in the mountains, Albahari joined up with a partisan unit aligned with the movement of Josip Broz Tito, who would lead Communist Yugoslavia after the war. By the war’s end, Tito’s partisans numbered over 80,000 and included more than 6,000 Jews, many in prominent positions, such as Moša Pijade, who would go on to serve as vice president of the Yugoslav parliament after the war. 

Moris was out on patrol as a partisan when he came upon a group of American and British paratroopers. They raised their weapons at him, thinking he was an enemy. Moris tried to communicate, but he spoke no English. 

When he asked the soldiers if they spoke German or Italian, they shook their heads. When he asked about Spanish, one perked up: a Hispanic-American soldier by the name of David Garijo. 

In Ladino, Alabahari was able to explain that he was not an enemy but could lead them to a nearby partisan camp where they would be safe. 

“Ladino saved my life in the war,” Albahari recalled in the documentary. 

At the partisan camp, Morris received even bigger news: The family that he had assumed had all perished after he left the train were in fact alive. The former school teacher and Ustaša guard who had warned his father had met them at the next train junction to help them escape. Furthermore, around half of the Jews in the train car were able to escape using the same hole Moris used during his initial escape. 

Ultimately the family all survived the war, unlike so many other Jews of Sarajevo. 

“Where is Samuel, where is Dudo, where is Gedala? They never came back,” Albahari lamented, listing missing neighbors while walking through Sarajevo’s old Jewish neighborhood in the documentary. “Maybe we are happy because we are alive after the Second World War, but also unlikely because every day we must cry for these dead people.”

When Moris returned to Sarajevo, it was an entirely different place from the bustling Jewish community he had once known. 

Gone was the sound of Ladino in the streets and alleyways of Bascarsija, the market district where so many of Sarajevo’s Jews had once lived. Gone were the synagogues — only one of the many synagogues that had existed before WWII still functions. Gone was the robust Jewish life that was once a central part of Sarajevo

Moris was still only 14 by the war’s end, so he returned to school and ultimately graduated at the top of his class. He became a pilot and later director of the Sarajevo Airport. 

In this new world, Ladino was spoken, if at all, only in the home.

“Always, when I hear Spanish, I hear my father and mother, and all the synagogues, prayers in Ladino and rabbis who spoke Ladino. But that is in the past,” Albahari says in “Saved by Language.” 

Eliezer Papo, who is a generation younger than Albahari, recalled that in his youth Ladino had long been reduced to a language of secrets. 

“Mostly, Ladino was used when the elders didn’t want youngsters to understand,” Papo said.

Only later, in the 1980s, did community members realize what was being lost and begin to gather to maintain their language, recount what Jewish Sarajevo had been like and share their wartime stories of survival. 

“He never took his story to the places of revenge, but he took it and his life experience to a place of ‘Never again,’ not just ‘Never again for Jews’, but never again for anybody,” said Papo.

Like many Sarajevans, World War II would not be the last major conflict Albahari would see. Less than 40 years later, war would once again come to Sarajevo with the break-up of Yugoslavia. 

From 1992-1995 the city remained under constant siege by Bosnian Serb forces looking to break away from what would become Bosnia and Herzegovina. Moris joined with other Jews of Sarajevo in working to provide aid to their fellow Sarajevans during the harsh period.

Sarajevo’s synagogue was turned into a shelter and a soup kitchen. The community ran a network of underground pharmacies and a message service allowing Sarajevans to get word to family and friends outside of the city during what became the longest siege of a capital city in the history of modern warfare.

“Moris was an inspirational persona to many members of Jewish community and La Benevolencija,” Vlado Anderle, the current president of that local Jewish humanitarian organization told JTA. “He was a man with such inviting spirit and energy.”

When the dust settled on the breakup of Yugoslavia, and the new Bosnian state rose from its ashes, Moris found himself once again in a new role. 

During the communist era in Yugoslavia, religious activity was discouraged. Sarajevo’s Jews emphasized the ethnic character of Jewish culture rather than the religious one. In the new Bosnia and Herzegovina, that was no longer true. So the community worked to reconnect with their religious identity as well. 

“Everybody looked up to the people who had Jewish upbringing before the Second World War,” Papo recalled. “This doesn’t mean that they were rabbis. Just that they knew it better than anyone else.”

Moris, whose formal Jewish education ended in his preteen years, was appointed president of the community’s religious committee.

As such it often fell on him to represent Judaism to the Bosnian society at large, often in a very creative way, according to Papo, who in addition to being a scholar of Ladino is ordained as a rabbi and serves the Sarajevo community as a rabbi-at-large from Israel. 

In one case, while being interviewed on a major Bosnian television station, Moris was asked why Jews cover their head with a kippah or other hat during prayer. Moris’ response, or rather creative interpretation, as Papo called it, was made up on the spot. 

Moris’ interpretation began with the ancient temple in Jerusalem where Jews once had to fully immerse in a ritual bath before entering.

“Since the Temple in Jerusalem was destroyed it was reduced to washing the uncovered parts of the body only, before entering a synagogue, similarly to Muslims: the feet, the head, the hands…” Papo recalled him saying. But in Europe, as Moris’ answer went, they began to cover more and more of their body. “In Europe they started wearing shoes, so the feet were not uncovered anymore, and then they started wearing a hat, not to have to wash their head… you know it’s Europe, one could catch a cold if going out with wet hair…”

“A few months later, I came to Sarajevo, and found that everyone has heard this explanation and is talking about it, not just people in the community, but in the street,” Papo said. “And you know, I let it pass, I couldn’t correct them, it was just so beautiful. That was his genius.”

“Identity is all about telling stories. And Moris was one of the great storytellers of the community,” Papo added. And through his stories he expressed an identity which was “made of the same contradictions that Sephardic Judaism is made of, that Sarajevo is made of, that Bosnia and Herzegovina is made and that Yugoslavia was and is made of and that the Balkans are made of.”

Albahari is survived by his wife and a son.


The post Bosnian Jews mourn Moris Albahari, one of Sarajevo’s last Ladino speakers appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.

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Feds charge man with organizing synagogue attacks in Europe and NYC on behalf of Iran

(JTA) — An Iraqi man who was recently arrested in Turkey has been charged with plotting an array of attacks against Jewish targets, including on a synagogue in New York City, in response to the U.S.-Israel war with Iran.

A criminal complaint that was unsealed on Friday claims that Mohammad Baqer Saad Dawood al-Saadi, 32, is a commander in the Iraq-based Kataib Hezbollah that functions as a proxy for Iran. The complaint was unsealed when al-Saadi appeared in federal court in Manhattan.

The complaint alleges that al-Saadi is responsible in part for organizing the attacks in Europe that have been claimed by a new group, Harakat Ashab al-Yamin al-Islamiya. It marks the first major disclosure of intelligence information tying the group directly to the Quds Force, the overseas arm of the Iranian regime’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, and includes multiple photographs of al-Saadi meeting in person with IRGC leaders.

Attacks that al-Saadi organized include 18 in Europe that Harakat Ashab al-Yamin al-Islamiya publicly claimed, as well as the stabbing of two Jews in London last month, the complaint alleges. He also organized multiple attacks in Canada that were carried out and plotted others that did not take place, the complaint alleged.

Al-Saadi is charged with six crimes, including conspiracy to provide support for acts of terror and conspiracy to provide support for a foreign terrorist organization. (The Trump administration declared the IRGC a terrorist organization in 2019.) He did not speak during his first court appearance on Friday, according to The New York Times, which reported that his attorney called him “a political prisoner and prisoner of war.”

“As alleged in the complaint, Al-Saadi directed and urged others to attack U.S. and Israeli interests and to kill Americans and Jews in the U.S. and abroad, and in doing so advance the terrorist goals of Kata’ib Hizballah and Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps,” Acting Attorney General Todd Blanche said in a statement on Friday. “These charges show American law enforcement will never let such evil go unchecked and will use all tools to disrupt and dismantle foreign terrorist organizations and their leaders.”

The incidents targeting Jews came amid warnings that Iran, which has a long record of organizing terror attacks abroad, would retaliate against the United States, Israel and Jews around the world.

The complaint, reflecting a sworn affidavit from Kathryn McDonald, an FBI special agent, says al-Saadi offered to pay online contacts $10,000 to stage attacks on U.S. Jewish targets.

According to the criminal complaint, al-Saadi sent a $3,000 down payment in cryptocurrency to an agent who was posing as someone willing to stage attacks on Jewish targets in New York, Los Angeles and Scottsdale, Arizona, in April.

Al-Saadi allegedly told the agent that “things are working for us here” in Europe but that he was looking for more assistance in the United States and Canada. He shared a picture of what the complaint says is a “prominent Jewish synagogue” in New York and said he had selected it as a target because it supported “the right for Israel to exist.” The agent initially agreed to stage an attack but stopped communicating with al-Saadi after sending a picture showing that the synagogue was guarded by police officers.

The Community Security Initiative, a group coordinating security for Jews in New York, sent a “community security bulletin” on Friday after al-Saadi appeared in federal court in Manhattan, saying that the arrest did not come as a surprise.

“CSI has been in contact with FBI’s Joint Terrorism Task Force in New York since April 2026 regarding this plot, and they have been keeping us apprised as events have evolved,” CEO Mitchell Silber said in the bulletin. He added, “At this time, we are not at liberty to disclose the targeted location.”

Kataib Hezbollah is the group that abducted and held a Russian-Israeli Princeton University researcher, Elizabeth Tsurkov, for more than two years until September. Following the revelation of al-Saadi’s arrest, she praised the FBI agents who worked the case, including one who also investigated her kidnapping.

“This ginger angel kept doggedly working my case because she knew I needed her and she knew that solving the case would help US national security interests. Indeed, owing to the incredible stupidity of my torturers, they provided me with a plethora of information about their operations, which I happily provided to the FBI after my release,” Tsurkov tweeted. “The American people are lucky to have such dedicated agents helping to keep them safe.”

This article originally appeared on JTA.org.

The post Feds charge man with organizing synagogue attacks in Europe and NYC on behalf of Iran appeared first on The Forward.

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A floating wooden synagogue at the 2026 Venice Biennale

דאָס איז איינער פֿון אַ סעריע קורצע אַרטיקלען אָנגעשריבן אױף אַ רעלאַטיװ גרינגן ייִדיש און געצילעװעט אױף סטודענטן. די מחברטע איז אַלײן אַ ייִדיש־סטודענטקע. דאָ קען מען לײענען די פֿריִערדיקע אַרטיקלען אין דער סעריע.

הײַיאָר צום דריטן מאָל לאָזט זיך ייִדיש באַמערקן בײַ דער באַרימטער אױסשטעלונג אין ווענעציע, איטאַליע — „װענעציער ביענאַלײ“, װאָס האָט זיך אָנגעהויבן דעם 9סטן מײַ און װעט זיך ענדיקן דעם 22סטן נאָװעמבער. ייִדיש שפּילט נישט קײן אָפֿיציעלע ראָלע אין דער אױסשטעלונג, און דאָס איז טאַקע דער עיקר. די אױסשטעלונג ווערט אָרגאַניזירט לויט לענדער, און אַװדאי איז ייִדיש קײן מאָל נישט געװען די הויפּטשפּראַך פֿון קײן לאַנד.

ייִדיש מאַכט אַ רושם בײַם ביענאַלײ אַ דאַנק דעם „ייִדישלאַנד פּאַװיליאָן“, װאָס איז אױסגעטראַכט געװאָרן אין 2022 פֿון דער קוראַטאָרשע מאַריע װײַץ און דעם קינסטלער יעװגעני פֿיקס. דער „פּאַװיליאָן“ איז אַ סעריע אױסשטעלונגען און אױפֿטריטן װאָס קומען פֿאָר אין עטלעכע ערטער איבער װענעציע, אַרום די ראַנדן פֿון דער אָפֿיציעלער ביענאַלײ.

דאָס װאָרט „פּאַװיליאָן“ אין „ייִדישלאַנד פּאַװיליאָן“ איז אַן איראָנישער קאָמענטאַר אױף די פֿיזישע פּאַװיליאָנען װאָס דער ביענאַלײ גיט צו 100 לענדער אין 2026, כּדי אױסצושטעלן אַ גאַמע קונסטװערק. אין קאָנטראַסט איז דער ייִדישלאַנד פּאַװיליאָן „געבױט“ אין גאַנצן פֿון אידעען.

אין זומער 2025 האָב איך אינטערװיויִרט װײַץ און פֿיקס װעגן דעם ייִדישלאַנד פּאַװיליאָן, װאָס איז דעמאָלט בײַגעװען בײַם ביענאַלײ. אין אונדזער אינטערװיו האָבן װײַץ און פֿיקס דערקלערט די צילן פֿונעם פּאַװיליאָן: בקיצור װילן זײ זײַן אין סתּירה מיטן ביענאַלײס טראָפּ אױף לענדער און נאַציאָנאַליזם, װאָס שליסט אױס די ייִדישע קולטור און אַנדערע מינאָריטעט־קולטורן װאָס זענען באַזירט אױף שפּראַכן.

װײַץ און פֿיקס, און די קינסטלער װאָס אַרבעטן מיט זײ, זאָגן אױך אָפּ די באַגריפֿן װאָס באַגלײטן אַ פֿאָקוס אױף לענדער. אַנשטאָט גרענעצן, פֿאַראינטערעסירן זײ זיך מיטן קולטורעלן קאָנטאַקט און צונױפֿשמעלץ. דערמיט שפּיגלען זײ אָפּ די דערפֿאַרונגען פֿון דורות ייִדיש־רעדערס, װאָס האָבן אָפֿט געװױנט װי דרױסנדיקע אין דער גלאָבאַלער סיסטעם פֿון לענדער. די קולטור װאָס די דאָזיקע ייִדיש־רעדערס האָבן געשאַפֿן, ספּעציעל אינעם ערשטן העלפֿט פֿונעם 20סטן יאָרהונדערט, איז געװען טיף פֿאַרװאָרצלט אין ייִדישע טראַדיציעס — אָבער אױך היבריד און צופּאַסיק. זי האָט בכּיוון אַרײַנגעמישט השפּעות פֿון פֿאַרשײדענע שפּראַכן, אידענטיטעטן און קולטורעלע באַװעגונגען.

אָט דער דאָזיקער גײַסט פֿון אָפֿנקײט און צופּאַסיקײט — פֿון די מעגלעכקײטן פֿון פֿליסיקע גרענעצן — האָט אינספּירירט די ייִדישלאַנד־פּאַװיליאָנען פֿון 2022 און 2025, און נאָך אַ מאָל אין 2026.

פֿון איצט ביזן 16טן סעפּטעמבער װעט דער ייִדיש־פּאַװיליאָן אױסשטעלן „די װערטער װאָס פּאַסן זיך צו מײַן מױל“. ער געפֿינט זיך אין דרײַ ערטער אַרום װענעציע, אַרײַננעמדיק אין דער אַלטער ייִדישער געטאָ. זי באַשטײט פֿון פֿיר טײלן, װאָס פֿאַרנעמען זיך אַלע מיט דער „איבערזעצונג“, סײַ צװישן שפּראַכן סײַ צװישן קולטורן און קאָנטעקסטן:

  • „איך בין נישט מסכּים“, פֿון אַרנדט בעק. דער פּראָיעקט פֿאָרשט אױס, דורך צײכענונגען און קאָלאַזש־פּאָסטקאַרטלעך, דאָס לעבן פֿון דער ייִדיש־רעדנדיקער אַנאַרכיסטקע מילי װיטקאָפּ (1877־1955), װאָס איז געבױרן געװאָרן אין אוקראַיִנע און האָט געאַרבעט מערסטנס אין לאָנדאָן. בעק באַזינגט אױף ייִדיש און אַנדערע שפּראַכן װיטקאָפּס איבערגעגעבנקײט צו אַרבעטער־ און מענטשנרעכט.
אַרנדט בעק, „איך בין נישט מסכּים“, אינסטאַלירונג בײַם ייִדישלאַנד־פּאַוויליאָן, 2025 Courtesy of Arndt Beck and the Yiddishland Pavilion
  • „לידער פֿאַר טײַכן“, פֿון ליליאַנאַ פֿאַרבער. דאָס קונסטװערק איז באַזירט אױף ייִדישע לידער װעגן טײַכן, װאָס שטאַמען פֿון יזכּור־ביכער — די בענד געשאַפֿן נאָכן חורבן צו פֿאַראײביקן דעם אָנדענק פֿון די פֿאַרטיליקטע ייִדישע שטעט און שטעטלעך. אין אַ סעריע גראַפֿישע װערק האָט פֿאַרבער אַראַנזשירט די װערטער פֿון יעדן ליד כּדי נאָכצופֿאָלגן די קאָנטורן פֿונעם טײַך, װאָס דאָס ליד באַשרײַבט.
  • ליולינקע, מײַן פֿײגעלע, פֿון מאַשאַ שפּרײַזער. דער פּראָיעקט באַשטײט פֿון פֿאַרשײדענע אַלטע שטוב־טעקסטילן אַזױ װי ציכלעך און טיכלעך, מיט װערטער פֿון ייִדישע לידער געמאָלט אױף זײ. די טעקסטילן האָט מען פֿריִער געצירעװעט. מסתּמא האָבן דאָס פֿרױען געטאָן. דער טיטל פֿונעם װערק פֿאַררופֿט זיך אױף אַ ייִדיש װיגליד. בײַנאַנד מיט די טעקסטילן געפֿינען זיך בײַשפּילן פֿון װענעציער שפּיצן (דאָס שאַפֿן פּרעכטיקע שפּיצן איז אַ שטאָט־טראַדיציע). צוזאַמען דערמאָנען די אָביעקטן אין װײַבערשער אַרבעט, און אין װײַבערשע לעבנס און מעשׂיות.
מאַשע שפּרײַזער, „ליולינקע, מײַן פֿײגעלע“. פֿאַרב אױף טעקסטילן, 2026 Courtesy of Masha Shprayzer and the Yiddishland Pavilion
  • „אַלטמאָדיש“, פֿון לײלאַ אַבדעלראַזאַק. די דאָזיקע װידעאָ־קונסט פֿאַרנעמט זיך מיט דער צוקונפֿט פֿון אַראַביש אין פּאַלעסטינע און ישׂראל. יעװגעני פֿיקס האָט דערקלערט׃ „פֿילשפּראַכיקײט איז געװען כאַראַקטעריסטיש פֿאַרן ייִדישן לעבן אין מיזרח־אײראָפּע, װוּ אַ סך געבױרענע ייִדיש־רעדערס האָבן פֿליסיק גערעדט אַנדערע שפּראַכן. אַבדעלראַזאַק װױנט אױך צװישן שפּראַכן — אַראַביש, העברעיִש און ענגליש — װאָס זענען אַלע אַ טײל פֿון איר פֿילזײַטיקער אידענטיטעט. איר קונסט פֿאָרשט אױס װי אַזױ די פּאָליטיק פֿון שפּראַך אין אַ פֿאַרשײדנאַרטיקער קולטור.“

דעם 16טן יולי װעט זיך עפֿענען „נבטעלע“ פֿון אַנאַ קאַמײַשאַן. בײַ דער דאָזיקער דרױסנדיקער אינסטאַלירונג (װאָס װערט פּרעזענטירט צוזאַמען מיטן ייִדישן מוזײ אין מאָנטרעאָל) װעט מען אױפֿהײבן אין דער לופֿט אַ גרױסן מאָדעל פֿון אַ הילצערנער שיל פֿון מיזרח־אײראָפּע. דער מאָדעל איז פֿול מיט העליום, און נאָר אַ דאַנק שטריק שװעבט ער נישט אַװעק. די שיל אינעם מאָדעל זיצט אױף אַ באַזע פֿון ריזיקע פֿעלדזן. אין דער שיל שײַנט אַ ליכט װאָס גײט קײן מאָל נישט אױס.

דער טיטל „נבטעלע“ שטאַמט פֿון אַ סלאַװיש װאָרט װאָס דערמאָנט אין סכּנה אָדער באַאומרויִקן זיך. ער פֿאַררופֿט זיך אױך אױף תּנכיש העברעיִש, װוּ „נבט“ מײנט „נאָענט אָנקוקן“.  אַ „נבטעלע“, מיטן ייִדישן דימינוטיװ „-עלע“, איז עפּעס װײכער װי בײדע װערטער — אָבער אױך צװײטײַטשיק.

אין „נבטעלע“ זעט מען אַ סך סתּירות, אַזױ װי דעם קאָנטראַסט צװישן דעם װאָג פֿון אַ בנין װאָס זיצט אױף פֿעלדזן, און דער אָנװאָגיקײט פֿונעם מאָדעל אַלײן; און אױך צװישן דעם צער צוליב דער פֿאַרטיליקונג פֿון אַלע הילצערנע שילן פֿון די נאַציס, און דער האָפֿענונג סימבאָליזירט פֿונעם אײביקן ליכט אין דער שיל. צי איז די שיל אַרױסגעריסן געװאָרן פֿון דער אַלטער הײם, אָדער טראָגט זי די הײם מיט איר?

מען דאַרף אױך דערמאָנען אַ טײל פֿונעם ייִדישלאַנד־פּאַװיליאָן װאָס האָט זיך שױן געענדיקט. בעת די ערשטע טעג פֿונעם ביענאַלײ האָט עליאַנאַ פּליסקין דזשײקאָבס אױסגעפֿירט אין עפֿנטלעכע ערטער אַרום װענעציע איר „טאַנצן צװישן נאַ און נאַד“. זי האָט געאַנצט און געזונגען ייִדישע לידער װעגן װאָגלעניש און גלות — טײלװײַז אױפֿן אָריגינעל ייִדיש און טײלװײַז איבערגעזעצט אױף אַנדערע שפּראַכן.

דאָס פּרעזענטירן דעם ייִדישלאַנד פּאַװיליאָן בײַ דער װענעציער ביענאַלײ איז גאָר אַ כּדאַייִקע אונטערנעמונג, װאָס ציט דעם אױפֿמערק אױף ייִדיש און ייִדישער קולטור בעת זײער אַ װיכטיקער אינטערנאַציאָנאַלער אױסשטעלונג. דער ייִדישלאַנד פּאַװיליאָן איז אָבער אױך טײַער. אַלע צושטײַערס זענען קריטיש, סײַ הײַיאָר סײַ פֿאַר דער צוקונפֿט. אױב איר קענט העלפֿן מיט אַ צושטײַער קענט איר קװעטשן דאָ.

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Mamdani Nakba Day video prompts pushback from Jewish leaders amid rising tensions

New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani once again angered many Jewish New Yorkers, already uneasy about his criticism of Israel, after posting a video on Friday made by his City Hall team marking Nakba Day, which remembers the displacement of thousands of Palestinians during the creation of Israel in 1948. “Nakba” means “catastrophe” in Arabic.

Mamdani, who rose to power aligned with pro-Palestinian activism, has been unapologetic about his anti-Zionist views and signaled they would shape his tenure. The Jewish community overwhelmingly did not support his election. Mamdani has supported efforts to divest from Israel Bonds and has refused to recognize Israel as a Jewish state — all this reversing years of steadfast support of Israel by mayors of New York City, which has about 1 million Jewish residents. While people who identify as Palestinians number just a few thousand in official records, about 150,000 New Yorkers told the last Census that they hailed from the Mideast, excluding Israel.

The post drew fierce backlash from Jewish leaders, who accused Mamdani of promoting a one-sided view of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict while ignoring Israel’s history and alienating the many New Yorkers who have connections to Israel.

The four-minute video featured New Yorker Inea Bushnaq, who recounted her experience as her family fled their home in East Jerusalem because “the Zionists were coming into Jerusalem,” and moved to Nablus. It had 10 million views on the social media platform X by Sunday evening, one of multiple platforms where it was posted on the official NYC Mayor’s Office accounts.

Olivia Becker, Mamdani’s video director, who filmed the interview, reposted supportive messages on X from allies of the mayor, highlighting the significance of his becoming the first New York City mayor to publicly commemorate Nakba Day.

Many Israelis argue that the displacement of Palestinians occurred in the context of the war launched by neighboring Arab states and Palestinian groups against the newly declared State of Israel, while some progressive Jewish groups and pro-Palestinian advocates say the Palestinian experience and the continued statelessness of millions of Palestinians should also be publicly acknowledged. Jewish leaders also noted that Mamdani’s video ignored the massacre of Jews pre-state and the displacement of hundreds of thousands of Jews from Middle Eastern countries. Many New Yorkers and Israelis are themselves descendants of Jews who were expelled or forced to flee Arab countries such as Egypt, Syria and Yemen.

Yaacov Behrman, a Chabad-Lubavitch activist in Brooklyn — who has appeared with Mamdani and attended a roundtable discussion with Orthodox leaders at City Hall — harshly criticized the mayor for platforming a “dishonest characterization” of history. “The tweet’s one sided narrative deepens division instead of advancing peace, coexistence, and understanding, and it should never have been posted by the mayor of New York City,” Behrman said.

Tony Award-winning actor Ari’el Stachel, whose father immigrated to Israel from Yemen, mocked Mamdani’s muddled response to rising antisemitism in an Instagram satire in which he struggles to say “I am outraged by antisemitism” — but eagerly looks forward to releasing the Nakba Day video.

A City Hall spokesperson did not respond to an inquiry asking what civic purpose was served by using city resources and the mayor’s official account to post the video.

The video prompted the latest clash between Mamdani and major Jewish and Zionist organizations over Israel-related issues. Last month, Mamdani vetoed a City Council bill requiring safety plans for protests near schools, while allowing a separate measure protecting houses of worship to become law without his signature. In January, Jewish leaders criticized his delayed response to a protest in which demonstrators chanted pro-Hamas slogans. Mamdani also faced backlash from Zionist Jewish organizations on his first day in office after revoking executive orders tied to antisemitism and campus protests.

Mamdani came under fire during the mayoral race last year for defending the slogan “globalize the intifada,” used by some at the pro-Palestinian protests and perceived by many as a call for violence against Jews.

Mamdani’s Jewish Heritage reception

Mamdani is set to host Jewish leaders and activists at Gracie Mansion, the mayor’s official residence, on Monday to mark Jewish American Heritage Month. The annual event has been programmed by Mamdani’s team as a celebration in honor of the Shavuot holiday, with a dairy menu.

Former Assemblyman Dov Hikind had urged Jewish leaders to boycott the event before Friday’s video was released. “You don’t have to go for cheese blintzes to Gracie Mansion,” Hikind said in an interview Sunday, arguing that attendance would legitimize Mamdani’s anti-Zionist posture. “I have no doubt that Mamdani is laughing all the way to the bank,” said Hikind, who now runs Americans Against Antisemitism. “I can tell these Jews that he would have greater respect for you if you started to believe in something.”

Hikind said he had been told that photographers from the New York Post planned to stage outside the mayoral residence on the East River to photograph attendees entering the event and that activists intend to circulate the images on social media to publicly shame participants.

For observers, the repeated episodes underscore the widening divide between a mayor who sees outspoken advocacy for Palestinians as part of his political identity and the largest Jewish community outside Israel, which increasingly views his approach to Israel and antisemitism as dismissive of its concerns despite his repeated promises to protect and engage with Jewish New Yorkers.

The post Mamdani Nakba Day video prompts pushback from Jewish leaders amid rising tensions appeared first on The Forward.

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