Uncategorized
Commemorating Philip Roth means confronting his limitations head on
(JTA) — Next Sunday marks the 90th anniversary of Philip Roth’s birth. In celebration of the famed novelist’s work, a scholarly conference titled “Roth@90,” sponsored by the Philip Roth Society, will be held starting Wednesday at the Newark Public Library. That will be followed by a weekend of high-profile events — staged readings, panel discussions, a bus tour of Roth’s old Newark neighborhood — co-presented by the library and the New Jersey Performing Arts Center.
Exactly 10 years ago, we commemorated his 80th birthday in a similar fashion. Dozens of Roth scholars made learned presentations about his work, of which Roth attended exactly zero. Later that week, the author read aloud from his novel “Sabbath’s Theater” in front of hundreds of fans, friends and well wishers. The proceedings were televised on C-Span.
Roth was being acclaimed for having just wound down an exemplary career. With the exception of the Nobel Prize, what garland evaded him? Was there a high-culture literary platform where his name wasn’t a virtual watermark? Could he publish any novel without hundreds of reviews being written in newspapers across the world? Was there a serious fiction writer out there with greater renown?
So much has changed in the decade between the two conferences. To begin with, Roth died in 2018. In that same span, the country witnessed the election of Donald Trump and the fissure it exposed in society in general and the Jewish community in particular. America endured one convulsive racial reckoning after another. Finally, in October of 2017, the #MeToo movement gained massive public salience.
All of those events, along with digital media’s indomitable ascent, have combined to affect and reshape Roth’s literary legacy. That legacy is far less assured than all the (justified) praise and lionizing that will occur this week might suggest.
Let’s start with Jews. The Trump era yielded two seemingly irreconcilable data points. On the one hand, Jewish-Americans endured the Charlottesville riot, the Tree of Life synagogue attack and a stunning rise in antisemitic incidents. On the other, there was staunch support for Trump among Orthodox Jews and supporters of Israel’s right wing.
Leaving that conundrum for others to parse, I simply note that Orthodox Jews and right-wing Zionists are almost completely absent in Roth’s fiction. A young Roth wrote a sensitive portrait of Holocaust survivors who want to start a suburban yeshiva in “Eli the Fanatic.” He also sketched a militant religious-nationalist Zionist in “The Counterlife,” Mordecai Lippman, who, according to Roth biographer Blake Bailey (about whom more below), was based on Elyakim Haetzni, one of the so-called founding fathers of the settlement movement. In the same novel, a version of the narrator’s brother falls under the settlement leader’s sway.
And that’s it, across a half century of writing. For traditionalist Jewish readers, whose political and social influence in the United States and Israel is substantial and growing, Roth’s fiction is not a mirror, nor a signpost, nor a scroll upon which is inscribed some essential truth.
The Jews who populated his stories, the Jews he best understood, were of Ashkenazi descent, white, liberal, assimilated and secular. His courage was to valorize them over and against other Jews who viewed them as defective, lost or even as apostates. Thus Anne Frank in “The Ghost Writer” was portrayed as a patron saint of secular Judaism. Elsewhere, his stories abound in proud, professionally accomplished diaspora Jews. They rarely think about God. Synagogue attendance is reserved strictly for lifecycle events and High Holy Days, if that.
A novelist, of course, is not a political clairvoyant. However, the immediate future of Judaism is being greatly shaped by Jews whose population and influence are growing and whom Roth rarely portrayed. In this manner, another stellar writer like Cynthia Ozick — herself Orthodox and quite attuned to the mindset of her co-religionists — might fare better commercially and emerge as more relevant than her friend in the coming decades.
Roth didn’t just write about Jews. In my book “The Philip Roth We Don’t Know: Sex, Race and Autobiography,” I pointed out that depicting non-Jewish Black people was an unrecognized “obsessional theme” across his 28 novels and 25 short stories. Much to my dismay, I found Roth’s multi-decade treatment of his African and African-American characters often to be crude, thoughtless and sometimes racist.
Familiarize yourself with the degrading portraiture we receive of Black people in “The Great American Novel” (1973), or a short story like “On the Air” (1970), and you might reconsider what Roth was after in “The Human Stain,” in which an academic who is accused of racism turns out to be an African American who had been “passing” as white and Jewish. The book, the 2001 Pen/Faulkner Award winner, is often seen as a sensitive treatment of racial issues in America, and perhaps as the author’s attempt to extend the hand of friendship to another oppressed minority.
In fact, my best guess is that, as with many Jewish writers post-1967, Roth was shaken by the deterioration of the Black-Jewish alliance. His frustrations were reflected in prose that often referenced Black communities in his hometown of Newark but showed little curiosity about their lives or sympathy for their plight.
Obviously, this type of literary rendering of African Americans — or any minority group — is disturbing and dated. Insensitive racial representation inspires calls for publishers to drop authors. They disappear from high-school or college syllabi. This bodes ominously for the afterlives of the titans of post-World War II American fiction, including John Updike, Saul Bellow Bellow and Norman Mailer, all three of whom have been accused of being racially insensitive and worse.
Roth’s marketability also seems to be sailing into a squall regarding gender. As women began demanding an accounting of sexual abuse and misogyny within the media, entertainment and other industries, numerous think-pieces wondered how the author of “Portnoy’s Complaint” — whose libidinous narrator identifies most of the women in his life by debasing nicknames — would fare in such an environment. Would he — should he — be “canceled”?
The question is more complex than his admirers and detractors make it out to be. No doubt, many of Roth’s male characters mistreated women. Accusations of Roth himself doing the same exist, but they are fairly rare, unsubstantiated and contested. The dilemma for researchers is that Roth was a deeply auto-fictional writer. You sense his presence in his stories — especially when protagonists share much of his biography, including Nathan Zuckerman and Peter Tarnopol, and when characters are named “Philip Roth.”
It’s hard not to speculate about the relation between the author and the many misogynistic fellows who cut an erotic swath through his pages. There will, of course, be readers who give him the benefit of the doubt. They might observe that Roth’s toxic males provide evidence of women’s experiences that needs to be explored, not censored.
Not helping him cleanse his reputation were the numerous allegations of sexual misconduct leveled against his hand-picked biographer, Blake Bailey. The ructions engulfing Bailey came to dominate the discourse about Roth, leading to a peculiar cancellation by proxy.
The episode also revealed that Roth had instructed his estate to eventually destroy a massive trove of personal papers he entrusted to Bailey. This led Aimee Pozorski (co-editor of Philip Roth Studies), myself and 20 other Roth scholars to issue a statement reminding his executors that “scholarship can only be advanced when qualified researchers engage freely with essential sources.”
As if all these concerns weren’t enough, his grim prophecies about the demise of an audience for serious literature seem to be coming true. “The book,” Roth worried, “can’t compete with the screen.” Meanwhile, the English major is in a very bad way, and the institution of tenure is under siege. Professors (insufferable as we might be) teach the next generation who to read and how to read. Writers might not like them, but they need them.
Roth is also getting the scrutiny that he was at pains to avoid in his lifetime. His disregard for scholars who might be critical of him always struck me, one such scholar, as misguided. Instead, he surrounded himself with friends — friends who had preternatural access to major media platforms. These friends built upon his own interpretations of his own work. It doesn’t mean they lacked wisdom. It just means that when they talked about Roth, they talked about what Roth wanted them to talk about. To wit: Jewish Newark, his sundry interpretations of his life, his pesky ex-wives and lovers, the close-mindedness of his critics, and so forth.
I think, in this cultural moment, it’s prudent to confront Roth’s limitations head on and chart one’s own path through his fiction. I pitch him to my students as a writer with some racial, religious and sexual hang-ups — who among us is innocent of those charges? I also present him as a bearer of unique and meaningful insights. Let scholars (while they still exist) parade those insights into sunlight.
I’ve tried to illuminate that his fiction was preoccupied, for 50 years, by how individual and collective bodies (like the Jews) change. Transformation, metamorphosis, metempsychosis — his obsession with those themes, I’ve noticed in my classrooms, is shared by Gen Z. If the span between Roth@80 and Roth@90 has taught us anything, it is that Roth was right: Life is about radical, unpredictable flux. Now his own legacy is in flux. I wonder who will read Roth@100.
—
The post Commemorating Philip Roth means confronting his limitations head on appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Uncategorized
A famed rabbi’s yeshiva reopens for students for the first time since World War II
(JTA) — Dovid Hofstedter was visiting Belarus five years ago when he discovered that a historic Jewish school had turned into something else.
Hofstedter, a Canadian rabbi, was joining a group of rabbis from around the world at the Radin Yeshiva, nestled in the small town of Radun in western Belarus. The school was founded in 1869 by the famed Lithuanian rabbi Israel Meir Kagan, known as the Chofetz Chaim, and housed 300 students before World War II.
As Hofstedter delivered a lecture in the building, he was surprised to see it fill up with locals, who then gradually wandered out. He realized they didn’t know the building had once housed a yeshiva in a town where no Jews live today.
Instead, people had walked in expecting a play — and left when they didn’t get one.
The Radin Yeshiva had been converted into a theater, with a stage and red seats, Hofstedter told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency. Like many Jewish sites across Eastern Europe, where the Nazis’ annihilation was followed by decades of Soviet rule that stifled Jewish memory and communal life, the school’s history had been buried.
“In other places that I’ve been to in Eastern Europe, some yeshivas were used as a post office,” said Hofstedter. “Some were used as government buildings.”
This month, Hofstedter and another group of 100 international rabbis filled the building again, this time to inaugurate the reopened Radin Yeshiva, now fully restored to serve Torah students as a functioning school.
Yad Yisroel, a nonprofit dedicated to strengthening Jewish life in Belarus, bought the yeshiva building from the municipality of Radun (or Radin, according to its Yiddish pronunciation) in 2025. That spurred a year of planning and construction, headed internationally by Hofstedter, who founded the Torah study organization Dirshu, and locally by Moshe Fhima, who directs Yad Yisroel’s projects and leads a yeshiva in the southern city of Pinsk.
The restoration team replaced the building’s roof and windows, which had deteriorated over years of neglect. Inside, they installed a new Torah ark and recreated the wooden lecterns and chairs that filled the yeshiva before World War II. A library of books is being transported from Israel to stock the school’s shelves.
The Radin Yeshiva closed after the outbreak of World War II, when the Soviet Union occupied the region and Soviet authorities seized the building. Nazi Germany captured Radun in 1941. Some yeshiva students escaped to Japan, where they received aid from the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee. Rabbi Mendel Zaks, the Radin Yeshiva’s then-leader and the Chofetz Chaim’s son-in-law, fled in 1941 to the United States and reestablished the yeshiva in New York City. In the 1950s, the new school moved upstate to Suffern, New York, where it remains active.
Meanwhile, more than 2,000 Jews from Radun and neighboring villages were interned in a ghetto; most were killed by the Germans and local police.
Hofstedter believes that the Radin Yeshiva will draw interest from Jewish communities across Belarus. Though the country’s 30,000 to 50,000 Jews today are largely secular, Hofstedter said a subset of the community has shown interest in reconnecting with facets of their Jewish identity that were quashed under the Soviets, and the yeshiva can serve as a focal point for that rediscovery. Many of its students will also come from abroad, as Orthodox Jews make regular pilgrimages to study the Chofetz Chaim’s teachings and visit his gravesite.
The Chofetz Chaim, who lived from 1838 to 1933 and whose sobriquet is the title of his first and most famous book, was widely hailed as the leading Jewish scholar of his generation. His establishment of the Radin Yeshiva brought the town fame in the Jewish world of Eastern Europe, where current-day Belarus and Lithuania were home to many “Litvak” Jews who followed a rigorous, anti-Hasidic religious tradition. He remains influential among Orthodox Jews globally for his works codifying Jewish law and ethics, especially his guidance on refraining from “lashon hara,” or “evil speech” about others, said Hofstedter.
There are recent signs of renewed attention to Belarusian and Lithuanian sites of Jewish heritage, according to Alena Kuliounich, the deputy chair of the Union of Belarusian Jewish Public Associations and Communities. The Volozhin Yeshiva, another jewel of Lithuanian Jewish history founded in 1803, reopened as a museum in 2024. Today, no more than a handful of Jews are estimated to live in Volozhin, now in western Belarus.
“Volozhin demonstrates that a historic Jewish site can attract considerable interest even in the absence of a substantial local Jewish community,” Kuliounich told JTA.
Hofstedter, whose parents survived the Holocaust in Auschwitz and Mauthausen before rebuilding their lives in Toronto, had a different vision for the Radin Yeshiva. He explicitly did not want it to become a museum.
“We didn’t want to just have some sort of tribute to the past,” said Hofstedter. “We wanted to be in continuity with the future, the teachings of the Chofetz Chaim for future generations.”
At the Radin Yeshiva’s rededication ceremony, he was moved to watch rabbis from the United States, Israel, Britain, France and elsewhere join to celebrate the Chofetz Chaim. The Lithuanian sage’s teachings are followed by Jews across Orthodox movements. It was rare to see rabbis with a range of backgrounds and beliefs “come together with such a feeling of solidarity,” said Hofstedter.
“There was an enormous amount of emotion at that gathering,” he said. “After almost 100 years, to be able to come back to the Chofetz Chaim’s yeshiva, to rejuvenate it and have the yeshiva functioning — it was just incredible.”
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post A famed rabbi’s yeshiva reopens for students for the first time since World War II appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
Police shoot dead assailant outside Israeli Embassy in Serbia
(JTA) — An assailant with knives attacked a police officer guarding the Israeli Embassy in Serbia overnight before the officer shot him dead, according to Serbian authorities.
Interior Minister Ivica Dačić called the incident a “terrorist attack.” The attacker had two knives and shouted “Allahu Akbar” at the officer 15 minutes after midnight Wednesday morning at the embassy in Belgrade. One knife hit the officer’s face.
The officer, a member of the Gendarmerie unit who was identified only by the initials D.S., killed the assailant on the spot, according to the Higher Public Prosecutor’s Office in Belgrade. The attacker, who was dressed in black and whom Dačić described as a minor, has not been identified and was believed to be from the western city of Šabac.
Dačić said he raised Serbia’s terrorism threat level to “red,” the highest degree, triggering heightened security monitoring and increased police presence around infrastructure facilities and places where large crowds gather.
Dačić added that Serbian security services had been monitoring the attacker, who was “known to be a supporter of the Islamic State” and had posted an image of the terror group’s flag on his Instagram account.
Avivit Bar-Ilan, the ambassador of Israel to Serbia, said she was “deeply disturbed and shocked by the terrorist attack.” She thanked the member of the Gendarmerie for “his courage and decisive response.”
The attack was the second on Belgrade’s Israeli Embassy in two years. In June 2024, a man seriously wounded a police officer outside the embassy by shooting him in the neck with a crossbow.
Wednesday’s incident came the day after Israel held parliamentary elections, with preliminary results suggesting that neither Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s coalition nor the opposition bloc had secured a governing majority.
Serbia had its own pivotal election on Sunday, with the country’s student-led protest movement defeating the bloc led by longtime nationalist leader Aleksandar Vučić. Under Vučić, Serbia deepened ties with Israel, including through a new joint combat drone manufacturing plant.
The victorious Student List movement said in its platform, “We will not be complicit in the systematic attempt to destroy the Palestinian people that Israel is carrying out in the Gaza Strip, and we will intensify the delivery of humanitarian aid to Palestine in order to save lives and reduce the number of casualties.”
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post Police shoot dead assailant outside Israeli Embassy in Serbia appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
Netherlands reverses course, will sit out Eurovision again over Israel’s participation
(JTA) — The Netherlands is withdrawing from the Eurovision Song Contest, reversing an announcement that it would join the event and citing “sensitivity” over Israel’s participation.
The Dutch organization that oversees public broadcasting, the Nederlandse Publieke Omroep, or NPO, said on Tuesday that it failed to find sufficient support from broadcasters to ensure a Dutch artist could go to Eurovision.
“We have known for some time that Israel’s participation elicits various reactions in society and causes discussion and division,” said Jurre Bosman, NPO’s media director. “This is also the case among broadcasters and staff, and we understand that sensitivity.”
NPO said last month that the Netherlands would reenter Eurovision in 2027, when the world’s largest music competition will take place in Burgas, Bulgaria. The Netherlands boycotted the contest in May 2026, alongside Spain, Ireland, Iceland and Slovenia, because of Israel’s inclusion.
NPO’s pledge to rejoin Eurovision overrode a decision by the Dutch network Avrotros, which usually oversees the Dutch entry. Avrotros withdrew from Eurovision in August, saying the event “can no longer be considered neutral” with Israel taking part amid “the severe humanitarian suffering in Gaza and the ongoing restrictions on press freedom.”
Initially, NPO believed there was “sufficient support” among public broadcasters to allow the Netherlands to return, said Jet de Ranitz, the chair of NPO’s executive board. But the decision sparked backlash. Earlier this month, about 400 public broadcasting employees signed a letter titled “#NotMyEurovision” to NPO’s management and board, urging the organization to reconsider returning to the contest.
“We only want to send an artist or artists and staff to the festival if they can count on the full support of one or more broadcasters,” Bosman said.
The contest will still be broadcast in the Netherlands by the network NOS, as it was this year.
Eurovision director Martin Green said he was “deeply sorry” that the Netherlands would not participate, adding that the organizers understood the decision and “respect the strength of feeling behind it in the Netherlands.”
Ireland will also remain absent from Eurovision next year. The country’s broadcaster RTÉ said in September that “Ireland’s participation cannot be justified given the appalling and ongoing loss of lives in Gaza and the humanitarian crisis there.” In Spain, the head of broadcaster RTVE also said he favored a continued boycott.
Czechia pulled out of the event this month, but its public broadcaster cited budget cuts as the reason.
The controversy over Israel’s inclusion in Eurovision has prompted mass protests. The 2026 contest drew 131 million viewers, down 35 million from the previous year.
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post Netherlands reverses course, will sit out Eurovision again over Israel’s participation appeared first on The Forward.
