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Embracing their place on ‘the fringes,’ queer artists reimagine Jewish ritual garments for all bodies
(JTA) — Binya Kóatz remembers the first time she saw a woman wearing tzitzit. While attending Friday night services at a Jewish Renewal synagogue in Berkeley, she noticed the long ritual fringes worn by some observant Jews — historically men — dangling below a friend’s short shorts.
“That was the first time I really realized how feminine just having tassels dangling off you can look and be,” recalled Kóatz, an artist and activist based in the Bay Area. “That is both deeply reverent and irreverent all at once, and there’s a deep holiness of what’s happening here.”
Since that moment about seven years ago, Kóatz has been inspired to wear tzitzit every day. But she has been less inspired by the offerings available in online and brick-and-mortar Judaica shops, where the fringes are typically attached to shapeless white tunics meant to be worn under men’s clothing.
So in 2022, when she was asked to test new prototypes for the Tzitzit Project, an art initiative to create tzitzit and their associated garment for a variety of bodies, genders and religious denominations, Kóatz jumped at the chance. The project’s first products went on sale last month.
“This is a beautiful example of queers making stuff for ourselves,” Kóatz said. “I think it’s amazing that queers are making halachically sound garments that are also ones that we want to wear and that align with our culture and style and vibrancy.”
Jewish law, or halacha, requires that people who wear four-cornered garments — say, a tunic worn by an ancient shepherd — must attach fringes to each corner. The commandment is biblical: “Speak to the Israelite people and instruct them to make for themselves fringes on the corners of their garments throughout the ages” (Numbers 15:37-41) When garments that lack corners came into fashion, many Jews responded by using tzitzit only when wearing a tallit, or prayer shawl, which has four corners.
But more observant Jews adopted the practice of wearing an additional four-cornered garment for the sole purpose of fulfilling the commandment to tie fringes to one’s clothes. Called a tallit katan, or small prayer shawl, the garment is designed to be worn under one’s clothes and can be purchased at Judaica stores or online for less than $15. The fringes represent the 613 commandments of the Torah, and it is customary to hold them and kiss them at certain points while reciting the Shema prayer.
“They just remind me of my obligations, my mitzvot, and my inherent holiness,” Kóatz said. “That’s the point, you see your tzitzit and you remember everything that it means — all the obligations and beauty of being a Jew in this world.”
The California-based artists behind the Tzitzit Project had a hunch that the ritual garment could appeal to a more diverse set of observant Jews than the Orthodox men to whom the mass-produced options are marketed. Julie Weitz and Jill Spector had previously collaborated on the costumes for Weitz’s 2019 “My Golem” performance art project that uses the mythical Jewish creature to explore contemporary issues. In one installment of the project focused on nature, “Prayer for Burnt Forests,” Weitz’s character ties a tallit katan around a fallen tree and wraps the tzitzit around its branches.
“I was so moved by how that garment transformed my performance,” Weitz said, adding that she wanted to find more ways to incorporate the garment into her life.
The Tzitzit Project joins other initiatives meant to explore and expand the use of tzitzit. A 2020 podcast called Fringes featured interviews with a dozen trans and gender non-conforming Jews about their experiences with Jewish ritual garments. (Kóatz was a guest.) Meanwhile, an online store, Netzitzot, has since 2014 sold tzitzit designed for women’s bodies, made from modified H&M undershirts.
The Tzitzit Project goes further and sells complete garments that take into account the feedback of testers including Kóatz — in three colors and two lengths, full and cropped, as well as other customization options related to a wearer’s style and religious practices. (The garments cost $100, but a sliding scale for people with financial constraints can bring the price as far down as $36.)
Spector and Weitz found that the trial users were especially excited by the idea that the tzitzit could be available in bright colors, and loved how soft the fabric felt on their bodies, compared to how itchy and ill-fitting they found traditional ones to be. They also liked that each garment could be worn under other clothing or as a more daring top on its own.
To Weitz, those attributes are essential to her goal of “queering” tzitzit.
“Queering something also has to do with an embrace of how you wear things and how you move your body in space and being proud of that and not carrying any shame around that,” she said. “And I think that that stylization is really distinct. All those gender-conventional tzitzit for men — they’re not about style, they’re not about reimagining how you can move your body.”
Artist Julie Weitz ties the knots of the tzitzit, fringes attached to the corners of a prayer shawl or the everyday garment known as a “tallit katan.” (Courtesy of Tzitzit Project)
For Chelsea Mandell, a rabbinical student at the Academy of Jewish Religion in Los Angeles who is nonbinary, the Tzitzit Project is creating Jewish ritual objects of great power.
“It deepens the meaning and it just feels more radically spiritual to me, when it’s handmade by somebody I’ve met, aimed for somebody like me,” said Mandell, who was a product tester.
Whether the garments meet the requirements of Jewish law is a separate issue. Traditional interpretations of the law hold that the string must have been made specifically for tzitzit, for example — but it’s not clear on the project’s website whether the string it uses was sourced that way. (The project’s Instagram page indicates that the wool is spun by a Jewish fiber artist who is also the brother of the alt-rocker Beck.)
“It is not obvious from their website which options are halachically valid and which options are not,” said Avigayil Halpern, a rabbinical student who began wearing tzitzit and tefillin at her Modern Orthodox high school in 2013 when she was 16 and now is seen as a leader in the movement to widen their use.
“And I think it’s important that queer people in particular have as much access to knowledge about Torah and mitzvot as they’re embracing mitzvot.”
Weitz explained that there are multiple options for the strings — Tencel, cotton or hand-spun wool — depending on what customers prefer, for their comfort and for their observance preferences.
“It comes down to interpretation,” she said. “For some, tzitzit tied with string not made for the purpose of tying, but with the prayer said, is kosher enough. For others, the wool spun for the purpose of tying is important.”
Despite her concerns about its handling of Jewish law, Halpern said she saw the appeal of the Tzitzit Project, with which she has not been involved.
“For me and for a lot of other queer people, wearing something that is typically associated with Jewish masculinity — it has a gender element,” explained Halpern, a fourth-year student at Hadar, the egalitarian yeshiva in New York.
“If you take it out of the Jewish framework, there is something very femme and glamorous and kind of fun in the ways that dressing up and wearing things that are twirly is just really joyful for a lot of people,” she said.
Rachel Schwartz first became drawn to tzitzit while studying at the Conservative Yeshiva in Jerusalem in 2018. There, young men who were engaging more intensively with Jewish law and tradition than they had in the past began to adopt the garments, and Schwartz found herself wondering why she had embraced egalitarian religious practices in all ways but this one.
“One night, I took one of my tank tops and I cut it up halfway to make the square that it needed. I found some cool bandanas at a store and I sewed on corners,” Schwartz recalled. “And I bought the tzitzit at one of those shops on Ben Yehuda and I just did it and it was awesome.”
Rachel Schwartz stands in front of a piece of graffiti that plays on the commandment to wear tzitzit, written in the Hebrew feminine. (Courtesy of Rachel Schwartz)
Schwartz’s experience encapsulates both the promise and the potential peril of donning tzitzit for people from groups that historically have not worn the fringes. Other women at the Conservative Yeshiva were so interested in her tzitzit that she ran a workshop where she taught them how to make the undergarment. But she drew so many critical comments from men on the streets of Jerusalem that she ultimately gave up wearing tzitzit publicly.
“I couldn’t just keep on walking around like that anymore. I was tired of the comments,” Schwartz said. “I couldn’t handle it anymore.”
Rachel Davidson, a Reconstructionist rabbi working as a chaplain in health care in Ohio, started consistently wearing a tallit katan in her mid-20s. Like Kóatz, she ordered her first one from Netzitzot.
“I would love to see a world where tallitot katanot that are shaped for non cis-male bodies are freely available and are affordable,” Davidson said. “I just think it’s such a beautiful mitzvah. I would love it if more people engaged with it.”
Kóatz believes that’s not only possible but natural. As a trans woman, she said she is drawn to tzitzit in part because of the way they bring Jewish tradition into contact with contemporary ideas about gender.
“Queers are always called ‘fringe,’” she said. “And here you have a garment which is literally like ‘kiss the fringes.’ The fringes are holy.”
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The post Embracing their place on ‘the fringes,’ queer artists reimagine Jewish ritual garments for all bodies appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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‘Dead on Arrival’: Inside the Breakdown of Second Phase of Gaza Ceasefire and Hamas’s Resurgent Control
Palestinian Hamas terrorists stand guard at a site as Hamas says it continues to search for the bodies of deceased hostages, in Beit Lahiya in the northern Gaza Strip, Dec. 3, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Stringer
The second phase of the Trump administration’s Gaza plan has collapsed into “stalemate,” according to Gaza-born analyst Ahmed Fouad Alkhatib, derailing plans to disarm Hamas and enabling the terrorist group to reassert control over aid convoys and Gaza’s three main hospitals, which he said have turned into interrogation centers for political opponents.
“Phase Two is not going to proceed,” Alkhatib, senior fellow at the Atlantic Council, said in a call with journalists on Tuesday.
Under the plan, the first stage included Hamas releasing all the remaining hostages, both living and deceased, who were kidnapped by Hamas-led Palestinian terrorists during their Oct. 7, 2023, invasion of and massacre across southern Israel. In exchange, Israeli released thousands of Palestinian prisoners and detainees and partially withdrew its military forces in Gaza.
Currently, the Israeli military controls 53 percent of Gaza’s territory, and Hamas has moved to reestablish control over the other 47 percent. However, the vast majority of the Gazan population is located in the Hamas-controlled half, where the Islamist group has been imposing a brutal crackdown.
The second stage of the US plan was supposed to install an interim administrative authority — a so-called “technocratic government” — deploy an International Stabilization Force — a multinational force meant to take over security in Gaza — and begin the demilitarization of Hamas, the Palestinian terrorist group that has ruled the enclave for nearly two decades.
“The International Stabilization Force is dead on arrival,” Alkhatib said. “The gap between what the force is meant to do versus the expectation of the volunteers is too wide.”
Alkhatib’s comments stood in stark contrast to those of US President Donald Trump, who on Wednesday told reporters at the White House that phase two of his Gaza peace plan was “going to happen pretty soon.”
“It’s going very well. We have peace in the Middle East. People don’t realize it,” Trump said. “Phase two is moving along. It’s going to happen pretty soon.”
However, Israel and Hamas have not actually reached an agreement regarding the second phase.
The United States had hoped to scale back its role in its newly built Civil-Military Coordination Center in the Israel city of Kiryat Gat, Alkhatib said, while pushing regional partners to assume responsibilities they lack the capacity or willingness to take on.
However, Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates are “furious” that the process has placed Qatar and Turkey, both longtime backers of Hamas, in what Alkhatib called the “driver’s seat,” giving them outsized influence over Gaza without requiring them to shoulder the financial burden.
“You put the Qataris in the driver’s seat, then why don’t you make them commit a billion dollars?” Alkhatib said.
Egypt and Jordan, meanwhile, lack the money and resources to train security personnel on the ground, while other partners like Pakistan and Indonesia have made clear they will not take part in disarming Hamas.
“Israel is the only body in the world — from a brute force perspective — that can take on Hamas,” he said, arguing that the Islamist group had been “very close to defeat” before the US-brokered ceasefire took effect in October, though at an extreme cost for Gazans and after a two-year campaign he said was at times undermined by far-right elements in the Israeli government.
Meanwhile, Hamas is building a new tax economy around the flow of goods into Gaza. Alkhatib described a sharp rise in commercial shipments alongside humanitarian aid, with merchants paying 50 percent of the value of the goods in taxes and fees.
“The same Qassam brigadiers [Hamas operatives] who were in tunnels throwing IEDs [improvised explosive devices] at Israeli soldiers are now protecting commercial goods trucks,” he said.
He added that Hamas was continuing to seize control of the humanitarian pipeline, imposing charges on aid shipments and asserting authority over the 800 to 900 trucks entering Gaza each day.
Alkhatib’s comments came one day before the research institution NGO Monitor, which tracks anti-Israel bias among nongovernmental organizations, released a new report revealing how Hamas has long run a coordinated effort to penetrate and influence NGOs in Gaza, systematically weaponizing humanitarian aid in Gaza and tightening its grip over foreign NGOs operating in the territory.
The terrorist group has also stepped up the recruitment of teenagers, described by Alkhatib as “child soldiers,” to help enforce control over goods and movement.
Gaza’s three main hospitals — Shifa, Nasser, and Al-Aqsa — have been turned into “pseudo-government operation centers,” Alkhatib said, with the terrorist group embedding elements of its Interior, Economy, and Finance ministries inside the compounds, and using them to interrogate political opponents, levy financial penalties on businessmen, and oversee arrests.
Alkhatib said the difficulty of speaking candidly about Hamas’s conduct has created a distorted public conversation.
“I can’t say these things without journalists saying, ‘Ahmed, I can’t believe you’re repeating Israeli talking points,’” he said. “Meanwhile, you talk to any child in Gaza about what’s happening [in the hospitals],” he added, noting that Gazans have circulated a grim joke that Hamas has “come out of the labor and delivery department” — a reference to operatives hiding in maternity wards and using pregnant women as human shields.
Part of the postwar landscape now includes several anti-Hamas militias, loosely aligned under the Abu Shabab group. While some Muslim Brotherhood–aligned outlets, including Al Jazeera, have claimed the Israel Defense Forces plan to dismantle these militias, Alkhatib argued the opposite is more likely, predicting the IDF will lean on them as the only armed actors available for post-ceasefire “mop-up” operations against Hamas cells.
In late October, The Algemeiner reported that four Israel-backed militias fighting Hamas are moving to fill the power vacuum in Gaza, pledging to cooperate with most international forces involved in rebuilding the enclave but vowing to resist any presence from Qatar, Turkey, or Iran.
Iran, like Qatar and Turkey, has spent years supporting Hamas.
Based in Khan Younis, Hossam al-Astal, commander of the Counter Terrorism Strike Force, said his group and three allied militias had coordinated in recent weeks to secure areas vacated by Hamas.
The militias, mainly in southern Gaza, are not part of US President Donald Trump’s proposed plan for a technocratic administration in the enclave.
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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.”