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From bat mitzvah guest to backer of Israel in Congress: Nancy Pelosi’s Jewish journey
(JTA) — Five days after Nancy Pelosi made history in 2007 as the first woman elected to be speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives, she held an event at her alma mater, the private Roman Catholic university, Trinity Washington.
She asked a rabbi, the Reform movement’s David Saperstein, to headline the event because she saw the movement as taking the lead on a crisis that deeply concerned her, in Darfur. “Do not stand idly by the blood of your neighbor,” Saperstein said, quoting Leviticus.
Pelosi was so pleased with Saperstein’s remarks that afterwards she pulled him into a family photo.
“I want you in this,” she told Saperstein as she grabbed his arm.
American Jews have been in the picture for Pelosi since she was born, when her father helped lead the movement in the United States to garner government support for the establishment of a Jewish state, and through her close relationship with Jewish Democrats whom she promoted to leadership roles in Congress.
Pelosi, who is 82, said Thursday she would step down as leader of the Democrats in the House, after her party lost the chamber to Republicans, albeit by a much smaller margin than anyone expected.
Here are some Jewish highlights from Pelosi’s career.
Following in her father’s footsteps
Pelosi was born into a family of prominent and powerful Baltimore Democrats.
As a congressman in the 1940s, her father, Thomas D’Alesandro, was outspoken in his criticism of the Roosevelt administration for not doing enough to stop the carnage in Europe and he was an early advocate of Jewish statehood. (Pelosi loves to tell people that there’s a soccer stadium named for him north of Haifa.)
After his congressional gig, D’Alesandro became Baltimore’s mayor, and forged a close relationship with the city’s Jewish community. “She likes to say that, growing up in Baltimore, she went to a bar or bat mitzvah every Saturday,” Amy Friedkin, a past president of the American Israel Public Affairs Committee, told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Pelosi has at least two Jewish grandchildren. In 2003, she told AIPAC, “Last week I celebrated my birthday and my grandchildren — ages 4 and 6 — called to sing ‘Happy Birthday.’ And the surprise, the real gift, was that they sang it in Hebrew.”
Carrying Israel close to her heart
Pelosi has visited Israel multiple times and has hosted Israeli leaders in Washington. One of her closest relationships was with Dalia Itzik, the Labor Party member of Knesset with whom Pelosi formed a bond because they both made history around the same time, as the first women speakers in their parliaments.
United States House Speaker, Nancy Pelosi, holds the military identity disc of kidnapped Israeli soldiers during a ceremony at the Israeli Parliament, the Knesset, on April 1, 2007. (Michal Fattal/Flash90)
Itzik was a leading advocate in Israel for the families of Israelis held captive in Arab lands. She gave Pelosi the dogtags of three Israelis who were missing in the 1982-1986 Lebanon war (they were eventually confirmed dead). Pelosi brought the dogtags to her meetings with Arab officials she believed might be able to help bring about resolution for the families — including on a 2007 mission to Syria that infuriated the Bush administration.
She promoted Jewish members of her caucus
A number of Jewish Democrats filled top positions under Pelosi’s two stints as House speaker, from 2007 to 2011, and since 2019.
In 2004, Pelosi saw a glittering future in a young woman just elected from South Florida, and two years later named Debbie Wasserman Schultz chief deputy whip, launching a leadership trajectory that would take Wasserman Schultz to the chairmanship of the Democratic Party.
Top Jewish committee chairs under Pelosi have included the late Tom Lantos of California (Foreign Affairs); Eliot Engel of New York (Foreign Affairs); Adam Schiff of California (Intelligence); Ted Deutch of Florida (Ethics); Susan Wild of Pennsylvania (Ethics); and Jerry Nadler of New York (Judiciary). Jewish members such as Schiff, Nadler, Engel and Jamie Raskin of Maryland took leading roles in impeachment hearings.
Raskin and Eliane Luria of Virginia have been prominent on the committee investigating the Jan. 6, 2021, insurrection spurred by former President Sonald Trump’s lies about the 2020 election.
It wasn’t always smooth sailing
Just because Pelosi was close to the pro-Israel community did not mean she assumed its every policy or political position.
She got scattered boos in 2007 at an AIPAC conference when she announced plans to press for the downsizing of U.S. troops in Iraq, in part because then-Vice President Dick Cheney told the same conference that reducing a U.S. presence in Iraq would embolden Iran and make Israel vulnerable.
In 2008, when it looked like Barack Obama would overtake Hillary Clinton in the Democratic primaries, Pelosi opposed a procedural measure that might have checked Obama’s ascent. Twenty prominent Jewish Democrats, spearheaded by Israeli-American entertainment mogul and megadonor Haim Saban wrote Pelosi to tell her to keep out of the presidential stakes, allowing “superdelegates” to contradict the will of the people. She replied, more or less, thanks but no thanks.
A year later, she was clashing with Saban again when he sought to keep his friend Jane Harman, a California Jewish Democrat, in the top spot on the intelligence committee. Pelosi had her way and reportedly “went ballistic” at Saban for interfering.
Pelosi also spearheaded the successful effort in 2015 to keep Congress from nixing Obama’s Iran nuclear deal once he was president, as the pro-Israel community wanted her to do.
An Israeli poem remains her lodestone in times of crisis
Pelosi has taken in recent years to quoting Ehud Manor’s song, “I Have No Other Country,” most recently when she delivered her first remarks after her husband was grievously wounded by a home invader spurred in part by Trump’s election lies and antisemitic conspiracy theories.
At first, the assumption was that a smart Jewish aide fed her the line to use at Jewish appearances, but the story was quite different. Isaac Herzog, then Israel’s opposition leader, consoled Pelosi in 2016 when they met at a Saban-underwritten dinner in Washington. Pelosi was mourning Trump’s presidential victory a month earlier.
JTA uncovered that story after Pelosi cited her favorite line in the poem on the House floor in the aftermath of the deadly Jan. 6 riots.
“I will not be silent now that my country has changed her face, I will not refrain from reminding her and singing here in her ear, until she opens her eyes,” she said.
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The post From bat mitzvah guest to backer of Israel in Congress: Nancy Pelosi’s Jewish journey appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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The Day I Hid My Star of David Necklace
Anti-Israel protesters gather at Museumplein ahead of a 6 km march through the city as part of a protest demanding a tougher stance from the Dutch government against Israel’s war in Gaza, in Amsterdam, Netherlands, Oct. 5, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Charlotte Van Campenhout
There are moments when a small object can feel unbearably heavy.
For me, it was my Star of David necklace — a delicate piece, inherited through generations, usually worn without a second thought. But recently, for the first time, I left it at home on purpose.
I have spent more than a decade publicly defending Israel in the Netherlands. I am not easily intimidated. I have never believed in lowering my voice to make others comfortable. Yet years of activism have taught me something sobering. Conviction does not shield you from hatred.
In the Dutch debate, hostility toward Israel is often dressed up as principled anti-Zionism. The terminology sounds political, even academic. In practice, it frequently mutates into something far uglier. I have been called a dirty Jew, a child killer, a parasite. I have received death threats online. Eggs were thrown at my home. My car tires were slashed more than once. A dead pigeon was once hung on my door in a plastic bag, a grotesque attempt at intimidation.
The irony is bitter. According to rabbinical standards, I am not considered Jewish enough to qualify for Aliyah under religious law, despite Jewish roots on both sides of my family. Yet to those who despise Israel, I am more than Jewish enough to be targeted.
When I reported the harassment, I was advised to keep a lower profile. Perhaps, I was told, I should refrain from speaking so openly in support of Israel. That conversation taught me a painful lesson. Protection would not necessarily come from institutions. It would have to come from resilience.
Over the years, I have lost professional opportunities and personal relationships. I occupy a strange space. Too Jewish for some. Not Jewish enough for others. Meanwhile, I am accused of being a Mossad agent or a paid operative for advocacy groups such as CIDI. The truth is less glamorous. I am simply a Dutch woman who has studied history and refuses to distort it.
Still, something shifted recently.
I needed to see a cardiologist. A routine appointment, nothing political about it. Out of caution, I searched his public social media profile. He had shared and endorsed extreme anti Israel content, including propaganda portraying Israel as uniquely evil. Suddenly a standard medical visit felt charged.
That morning, I removed my Star of David and placed it on my dresser.
The gesture unsettled me more than I expected. It felt like surrender. The same calculation followed before an appointment with another medical professional, originally from Iran. Check social media. Remove visible symbols. Avoid potential bias. Stay invisible.
I am not proud of that instinct. For years I have urged others to stand tall. Yet when you are alone in a climate of escalating hostility, prudence can override pride. Health is not a battleground on which one wishes to test ideological neutrality.
The broader context explains why this fear is not imaginary. The Netherlands has witnessed a sharp rise in antisemitic incidents. CIDI, the Center for Information and Documentation on Israel, recorded 379 antisemitic incidents in 2023, then 421 in 2024, the highest number since monitoring began. Police figures, using broader criteria, have been even higher. These are not abstract data points. They represent Jewish students harassed in classrooms, mezuzot ripped from doorposts, and families who hesitate before displaying visible signs of identity.
Each year on Holocaust Remembrance Day, including ceremonies marking the liberation of, we solemnly repeat the words “never again.” The phrase echoes with sincerity. But remembrance without vigilance is ritual without substance.
My advocacy for Israel does not stem from blind loyalty. It arises from historical understanding. After two thousand years of exile, persecution, and statelessness, the reestablishment of Jewish sovereignty in 1948 was not a colonial experiment but an act of national restoration. Israel, like any democracy, is imperfect. It debates fiercely within itself. It includes Jews from Europe, the Middle East, North Africa, and Ethiopia. I have written extensively about the rescue of Ethiopian Jews who found refuge and citizenship there. That diversity alone undermines the simplistic caricature of Israel as a racist project.
When activists declare that Zionism is racism and deny Israel’s right to exist, they claim to be advancing justice. In reality, they are singling out the world’s only Jewish state for elimination. It is not surprising that such rhetoric often spills over into open antisemitism.
The consequences are felt far beyond Israel’s borders. Across Europe and America, Jewish communities report heightened violence and terrorism. The Netherlands is not immune. And so a necklace becomes a calculation.
Yet while I may occasionally remove a symbol, I will not silence my voice. If anything, the climate reinforces why speaking out matters.
Unity is essential. Jews and non-Jews alike must reject the normalization of antisemitism, whether it appears under the banner of anti-Zionism or any other fashionable label. This is not about suppressing legitimate criticism of Israeli policies. It is about drawing a moral line when criticism becomes demonization and when political disagreement becomes collective vilification.
One day, I hope, wearing a Star of David in Amsterdam will feel entirely unremarkable. An heirloom necklace will simply be jewelry, not a statement of defiance. Until then, even if I sometimes leave it at home, I will continue to speak publicly and unapologetically.
Because never again is not a slogan. It is a responsibility that begins in the present.
Sabine Sterk is the CEO of Time To Stand Up For Israel.
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History and Archaeological Evidence Shows Jews Were Pioneers in Learning and Education
Inside the National Library of Israel. Photo: © Herzog & de Meuron; Mann-Shinar Architects, Executive Architect.
The opening of a new building for the National Library of Israel was one of the events overshadowed by the October 7 attack on Israel.
The library, almost five million square feet of space containing five million books, did open its doors on October, 29, 2023. The impressive new building, with its state-of-the-art automated book retrieval system, is a far cry from the library’s modest beginnings in 1892.
That the library opened five years before the first Zionist Congress, and well before the establishment of the state of Israel, indicates the importance that the Jewish people place on books and literacy — and also the long connection between Jews and Israel.
In Judaism and Hellenism in Antiquity (1998), Lee I. Levine makes the point that Jews were unique in the ancient world in reading a holy text at religious services and discussing its meaning on a regular basis. (Ezra the Scribe is credited with initiating the reading of the Torah at religious services, in the fifth century BCE, after the return from exile in Babylonia [Nehemiah 8:1-8].)
That Jews are widely associated with literacy is a widespread belief. In fact, the expression “People of the Book” originated in the Koran, as a description for Jews (and Christians). But how literate were they in Biblical times? Scholars such as Meir Bar Ilan suggest that literacy in ancient Israel was low, less than 3% of the population, even as late as the first centuries CE.
After all, with the exception of priests and scribes, why would it be necessary to read and write in an agricultural society? However, recent archeological evidence signals that Jewish literacy in Biblical times was far more widespread than previously thought.
Archeological teams from Tel Aviv University used computer-based analyses to evaluate letters written by a small contingent of 20 to 30 Judean soldiers located at a military outpost at Arad, near the southern border of Judea. The letters, in Hebrew, were written in ink on ostraca (potsherds used as writing surfaces) shortly before the fall of Jerusalem to the Babylonians in 586 BCE.
Computer handwriting analysis used machine learning to digitize, segment, and extract features (for example, separation distances, angles, slopes, curves) from script to identify individuals. A professional handwriting expert also evaluated the writing on the ostraca.
The results, published in academic journals (PNAS, 2016 and Plos One, 2020), show that there were at least 12 different writers. They varied in rank, down to the equivalent of quartermaster (much of the material in the letters dealt with provisions and supplies). Clearly, the society represented by the soldiers at Arad must have included an educational infrastructure capable of ensuring widespread literacy.
In Discovering Second Temple Literature (2018) Malka Z. Simkovich, Crown-Ryan Chair of Jewish Studies at Catholic Theological Union in Chicago, provides a comprehensive view of the extensive literary output by Jewish communities during the period of the Second Temple (539 BCE to 70 CE). While she does not refer to literacy per se, the variety of material she describes, and the volume of letters written between Jews in Judea and those in the Diaspora (mainly between Jerusalem, Alexandria, and Antioch), suggests that the ability to read and write was common.
Some of the writings Simkovich refers to were found in the Cairo Geniza, a trove of more than 400,000 manuscripts, and fragments of manuscripts, discovered in the storeroom (the geniza) of the Ben Ezra Synagogue in Fustat (Old Cairo), Egypt.
Most of this collection was taken to Cambridge University in 1896 and today is being digitized. While much of this material involves the post-Temple period, manuscripts from the earlier, Second Temple period, were also common.
The geniza, a uniquely Jewish concept, is rooted in Jewish law. Any old or damaged liturgical texts or ritual objects that may include G-d’s name must not be casually discarded. The geniza is a temporary repository for such material prior to burial in consecrated ground.
The material in the Cairo Geniza was unusual in that the material stored there accumulated for a long time, between the 8th and 19th centuries. It includes secular material, such as legal contracts, accounting books, and personal letters, along with Biblical texts and rabbinical writings, making it a particularly valuable historical find. But equally important, the existence of the geniza is a reminder of the reverence for the written word that is a part of the Jewish tradition.
Jacob Sivak, a Fellow of the Royal Society of Canada, is a retired professor, University of Waterloo.
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Tucker Carlson’s Huckabee Interview: Confidence Without Comprehension
Carlson floated additional insinuations and conspiracy, including the absurd claim that the United States went to war in Iraq after September 11 because of Israel.
This trope, that Jewish or Israeli influence dragged America into war, has circulated for decades across ideological extremes.
Reducing complex American strategic decisions, Congressional votes, and post-9/11 security policy to “Israel made us do it” is not serious analysis. Yet here it was, presented as such by a former Fox News host watched by millions.
By the end of nearly three hours, a pattern had emerged.
Carlson repeatedly blurred theology into policy, questioned Jewish historical continuity, recycled war-blame insinuations, dismissed counter-evidence, and spoke authoritatively on subjects he appeared not to have mastered.
And he did so with confidence.
That is what much of the media missed.

The story was not Huckabee’s answer to a distorted Biblical question.
It was watching a prominent commentator unravel under the weight of his own thinly sourced claims.
Criticism of Israeli policy is legitimate. Debate over strategy is healthy.
But when interrogation gives way to insinuation, and skepticism morphs into selective credulity, the result is not fearless journalism.
It is confidence without comprehension.
And it was watched by nearly two million viewers in under 24 hours.
The author is a contributor to HonestReporting, a Jerusalem-based media watchdog with a focus on antisemitism and anti-Israel bias — where a version of this article first appeared.
