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Henry Rosovsky, refugee from the Nazis who shaped Harvard University, dies at 95
BOSTON (JTA) — When Harvard University’s rabbi first pushed to relocate the Hillel from the outskirts of campus to its center, Henry Rosovsky was initially skeptical.
“He was absolutely right. I was wrong,” Rosovsky told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency in 2017, at a 25th anniversary party for the Hillel building that bears his name: Rosovsky Hall.
The event was also a 90th birthday party for Rosovsky, an economist who almost all of his career at Harvard, spanning decades in which he influenced the school’s curriculum, led a committee charged with improving conditions for Black students and shepherded the flourishing of Jewish life on campus.
Rosovsky died Nov. 11 at his home in Cambridge, Massachusetts, where he lived and worked since joining the Harvard faculty in 1965. He was 95.
“His legacy continues to influence the experience of every person on our campus today,” Harvard President Lawrence Bacow, who is Jewish, told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency. “With his passing, Harvard has lost one of its greatest champions and its finest citizens.”
At his funeral at Temple Israel of Boston, Rosovsky was remembered by family, colleagues and friends for his brilliance, witty humor, love of tennis and jazz, and his sage advice and mentorship.
His daughter, Leah Rosovsky, said her father took his greatest satisfaction in the role he played in establishing what is now Harvard’s African and African American Studies Program and recruiting its longtime chair, historian Henry Louis Gates Jr., who attended the funeral.
Born in a Jewish family on Sept. 1, 1927 in what is now Gdansk, Poland, Rosovsky immigrated to the United States with his parents and brother in 1940, after escaping the Nazis through France, Portugal, Spain and Belgium. He volunteered for the U.S. Army in World War II and also served in the Korean War, according to an obituary published by Harvard. After graduating from the College of William and Mary, he arrived at Harvard for the first time in 1949 to pursue a doctorate in economics.
In 1965, he returned as a professor of economics, with a specialty in Japanese and Asian economic development. He would stay at the university for the rest of his career, shaping not only the Ivy League college but Boston’s Jewish community.
As dean of Harvard’s College of Arts and Sciences from 1973 to 1991, Rosovsky led implementation of the school’s groundbreaking core curriculum. He also served two terms as Harvard’s acting president; was appointed a member of the Harvard Corporation, where he was the first Jew on the school’s governing body; and oversaw the establishment of Harvard’s Center for Jewish Studies.
In 1969, with student unrest spurring changes at many universities, Rosovsky led a committee to study the experience of Black students at Harvard. The resulting “Rosovsky report” urged the creation of a standalone department for African and African American studies and other steps to integrate and empower Black students. Rosovsky quit the committee after students were given equal say, a move that he said should have taken place only after careful study. He resumed his involvement shortly before his retirement in the 1990s, recruiting high-profile scholars including Gates to transform the department into an academic powerhouse.
Rosovsky’s 1990 book “The University: An Owner’s Manual,” exposed outsiders to the complex operations of a research university. But the former dean was equally helpful to university insiders, Bacow said, noting the time Rosovsky devoted to doling out advice to college presidents. Several of Harvard’s presidents, including Drew Gilpin Faust, Lawrence H. Summers and Neil Rudenstine, echoed that sentiment in published remarks at the celebration of his 90th birthday.
His reach extended beyond Harvard, too. As chair of the Boston Jewish federation’s strategic planning committee in the 1990s, Rosovsky shared his analytical expertise and his ability to bring people together to help chart a course for Boston’s Jewish community, according to Barry Shrage, who for decades led the Combined Jewish Philanthropies of Greater Boston.
“It was a turning point in terms of Jewish learning, adult Jewish education, building community at the grassroots and engaging synagogues,” Shrage told JTA in a conversation at the funeral. “It all emerged in the strategic plan.”
Shrage added, “He was a secular Jew but his Jewish identity deeply influenced his vision of the world.”
Rosovsky is survived by Nitza, his wife of 66 years and a former longtime curator of the Semitic Museum at Harvard; his children, Leah, Judy and Michael and their spouses; four grandchildren; and one great-granddaughter.
“He didn’t set out to trumpet his own Jewish identity,” Rabbi Jonah Steinberg, Harvard Hillel’s executive director, told JTA in 2017 about Rosovsky. “By being very honestly who they are, they were an example to others.”
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The Energy Dilemma: Will Washington Let the Iranian Regime Survive?
A fire burns at South Pars gas field, in Tonbak, Bushehr Province, Iran, in this screen grab from a handout video released on June 14, 2025. Photo: Social Media/via REUTERS
For the first time since the “Second Iran War” began its lightning-fast escalation across the Persian Gulf, a palpable chill has settled over the direct line between the Prime Minister’s Office in Jerusalem and the White House.
While the last 24 hours have seen the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) systematically dismantle the command-and-control structures of the Islamic Republic, a new “Red Line” has emerged — not from Tehran, but from Washington.
Reports circulating early Wednesday suggest that the Trump administration has signaled a sharp hesitation regarding Israel’s planned strikes on Iran’s vital energy infrastructure, specifically the massive South Pars gas field.
As the IDF pushes for total “de-regimification,” the geopolitical friction between two of the world’s closest allies is reaching a boiling point. The question now haunts the halls of the Knesset: Will the American desire for global energy stability stop Israel from achieving a permanent victory?
The South Pars field is more than just a cluster of offshore platforms; it is the respiratory system of the Iranian regime. Holding an estimated 8% of the world’s natural gas reserves, it provides the hard currency that funds the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC)’s regional proxies and its domestic oppression apparatus. For Israel, the logic is simple: you cannot kill the beast while you are still allowing it to breathe.
However, the global markets have reacted with predictable tremors. With the “Second Iran War” already pushing Brent crude toward historic highs, Washington’s reluctance is rooted in the fear of a global “energy shock” that could destabilize the US and world economy. The reported message from the White House to Israel has been one of containment– urging the IDF to “finish the job” on the military leadership. while leaving the energy faucets intact.
But for those who have spent decades analyzing the Middle East, this “half-measure” approach is a recipe for disaster.
Letting the Iranian Regime Survive to Fight Another Day
If the South Pars field remains operational, the regime retains the ability to re-arm, regroup, and wait out the current political storm. History is littered with “half-finished” wars that sowed the seeds of the next generation’s bloodshed. By drawing a red line at Iran’s energy assets, Washington is effectively offering the IRGC a lifeline just as it is gasping for air.
The strategic divergence is clear: Washington is playing a game of global economic management, while Jerusalem is fighting an existential war for the survival of the Jewish State.
The tension comes at a delicate moment. The elimination of Ali Larijani and Intelligence Minister Esmail Khatib signaled that the regime’s political “mask” had been shattered. The “Axis of Resistance” is crumbling, with even longtime “bridge-builders” like Qatar expelling Iranian diplomats in the wake of the latest missile skirmishes.
In the streets of Tel Aviv and the Jewish diaspora, the sentiment is one of “never again.” There is a deep-seated realization that if the Islamic Republic is allowed to survive this conflict with its economic engine intact, the cycle of terror — from Hamas to Hezbollah — will inevitably restart.
“We are not interested in ‘de-escalation’ for the sake of a cheaper gallon of gas,” one senior Israeli defense official reportedly said under the condition of anonymity. “We are interested in a Middle East where our children do not have to run to bomb shelters every six months. That requires the total neutralization of the threat.”
The Geopolitics of Victory
Peace only occurs when the enemy is convinced they have lost. By shielding Iran’s energy sector, the United States is signaling to the remnants of the mullahs that they still have cards to play. It reinforces the regime’s belief that they are “too big to fail” because of their grip on the world’s thermostat.
Moreover, the “Energy Red Line” risks alienating regional allies who have finally begun to pivot away from Tehran.
If the US appears to be protecting the regime’s assets, the incentive for Gulf states to fully align with the Abraham Accords framework diminishes. Why risk everything for a “new Middle East” if the old one is being kept on life support by Washington?
The Choice Ahead
President Trump, who has frequently touted his role as a “disruptor,” now faces his own paradox. He can choose the short-term stability of the global energy markets, or he can support the long-term stability of a world without a nuclear-armed, terror-funding Islamic Republic.
The stakes couldn’t be higher. We have seen what happens when the world chooses “management” over “victory.” It results in Oct. 7, 2023; it results in 1979; it results in a perpetual state of siege.
Israel is ready to finish the war. The only question remains: Will Washington let them win?
Amine Ayoub, a fellow at the Middle East Forum, is a policy analyst and writer based in Morocco. Follow him on X: @amineayoubx
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Can James Talarico’s faith-forward politics invigorate the Jewish religious left?
(JTA) — In a recent interview for his New York Times podcast, Ezra Klein asked Texas State Rep. James Talarico why the Christian right puts so much focus on abortion and gay marriage.
“I’m Jewish, but when I read the New Testament, I always come away a little bit amazed that politicized Christianity is so worried about gender and sexuality, and so unconcerned with greed,” said Klein.
Talarico, 36, answered in the religious language that has made him not just a political darling in Texas, where he hopes to do the unthinkable and flip a Senate seat from red to blue, but a national figure.
“You’re preaching to the choir,” Talarico responded with a knowing laugh. “Absolutely. Concern for the poor, concern for the oppressed, is everywhere. Economic justice is mentioned 3,000 times in our Scriptures, both the New Testament and the Hebrew Scriptures. This is such a core part of our tradition, and it’s nowhere to be seen in Christian nationalism or on the religious right.”
His response was what the Texas Tribune has called “archetypal Talarico fare”: a blend of religion and “progressive, populist politics.” It has also made him the standard-bearer for a resurgent religious left, which includes more than a few Jews, in Texas and beyond, who have longed for a liberal politician who can speak from and to the language of faith.
“We need the kind of religious values [that] tell us that we are all made in God’s image,” said Joshua Shanes, a historian at the University of California-Davis, explaining why he’s excited by Talarico’s candidacy. “Religious values tell us that the government should be there to create a social safety net and create a healthcare system that helps everyone, and progressive taxation.”
The majority of Jews have tended to consistently support such positions, and vote accordingly. What Talarico adds to the mix is the faith-first rhetoric of the budding minister – which he is, pursuing a degree in theology at a Presbyterian seminary.
While mainstream Democrats will invoke their religious faith on the campaign trail, they rarely make it a signature. When the late Rabbi Michael Lerner, in the pages of his Tikkun magazine in the 1990s and early 2000s, called for the need of a religious left as an alternative to the Christian right, he found few Jewish allies. Jews were long wary of a Christian right that seeks to erase the line between church and state, and, like many liberals, tended to favor what the writer Cynthia Ozick has called the “unadorned public square” — a politics where religion remains a private matter.
Jewish conservatives, meanwhile, had long made peace with the Christian right, sharing its views on public funding for parochial schools and uncritical support for Israel.
In polling done in 2024, however, the Pew Research Center and other surveys indicated that younger progressives are open to candidates whose religious faith motivates social justice commitments, as long as it doesn’t translate into restrictive policy.
Perhaps noting this trend, Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro, in his recent autobiography, centered his religious Jewish identity in describing his political philosophy. “Now more than ever, we yearn for and need a world defined by faith,” writes Shapiro. “It’s universal, this belief in others to help us through what feels unsettled, uncivil, un-American.”
Shanes, whose specialty is modern Jewish political and cultural history, counts himself among those who were once doctrinaire about a secular public square but who now think Americans crave “the transcendent,” even in their politics. He views Talarico’s political message not just as a novelty, but as a necessity.
“My goal is a humanist morality,” he said, “and I don’t think a secular version of it is going to succeed, not in America.”
Talarico similarly talks about his religion as a source of his political values, but not as a means of coercion. Last year, Talarico opposed legislation requiring the Ten Commandments to be displayed in public school classrooms. “I found it offensive as an educator that we would impose one religious tradition onto all of our students, including students that don’t belong to that particular tradition,” Talarico, who taught language arts at a public school in San Antonio, explained at the time.
“He thinks that protections in the Constitution are good for Christianity, good for Judaism and good for all people and religion, because teaching religion is appropriate in the churches and not in the government,” said Marc Stanley, a Houston attorney, former U.S. ambassador to Argentina and prolific Democratic fundraiser.
Raised in the Austin suburb of Round Rock by a single mother, Talarico grew up attending a Presbyterian church. His grandfather was a Baptist minister. In 2018, he flipped a swing district in Round Rock, becoming the youngest member of the Texas House at 29.
Even before last month’s Democratic primary, he attracted an enormous online following (for a politician) for videos explaining his religious, liberal worldview. On TikTok, where he posts clips with titles like “Love can win” and “There is nothing more un-Christian than stealing from the poor to give to the rich,” he has 1.6 million followers.
But it was his conversation last month with Stephen Colbert that brought him national attention, and arguably led to his victory over U.S. Rep. Jasmine Crockett in the Democratic primary for the Senate seat. When CBS told Colbert that broadcasting the interview on “The Late Show” would violate “equal time rules,” it ran instead on YouTube, where the controversy drove over 7.5 million views.
That interview also suggests another aspect of his appeal to a religious Jewish left: He disdains Christian nationalism, a movement to codify in law and culture that the United States is a Christian nation. “There is nothing Christian about Christian nationalism,” he told Colbert. “It is the worship of power in the name of Christ and it is a betrayal of Jesus of Nazareth.”
“His entire appeal to a lot of people is that he is using scripture to come at the right-wing Christian fundamentalist element in the state of Texas,” said Art Pronin, president of Meyerland Area Democrats in a heavily Jewish part of Houston.
Talarico’s language has won over even Jewish liberals who don’t regard themselves as religious, but see in his message a necessary corrective to the politics of the Texas Statehouse and the Trump White House.
“He has succeeded in reviving a certain kind of humanism which was, going back to the Renaissance, tied to religious belief, tied to Christian values, tied to Jewish values,” said Robert Zaretzky, a historian at the University of Houston and a self-described “cultural” Jew. “And when I talk about Jewish values, what I have in mind is menschlichkeit … a kind of decency for one’s fellow man. And that is just so evident in Talarico’s words, in his actions, and in the way that he has voted in the Texas State Legislature.”
Zaretzky also sees in Talarico a connection to Jewish tradition, whether it is the prophet Micah — “Act justly and love mercy” — or the Talmudic sage Hillel: “What is hateful to you, do not do to others. All the rest is commentary.”
“That is the essence of Talarico’s message, and something that drives Texas Republicans absolutely crazy,” said Zaretzky. Indeed, many conservative Christians regard Talarico’s views as heretical, because he uses church vocabulary to promote liberal views. Angry evangelicals often refer to him as a “wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
Of course, even a politician in such heady company as Micah and Hillel has liabilities. In December, the Jewish news site JNS reported that some Jewish leaders in Texas were “alarmed” by Talarico’s views on Israel. Among other things, he had decried “the atrocities in Palestine,” and pledged that he wouldn’t “fund these war crimes” and will vote “to ban offensive weapons to Israel.”
Talarico also said he wouldn’t accept support from AIPAC, the pro-Israel lobby that has become radioactive on both the left and far right.
Pronin remembers a town hall back in December, when Talarico repeated his criticisms of Israel.
“It has set up a lot of conflicted feelings in the Jewish community on his candidacy,” he said. “On the one hand, he is a very appealing candidate on many other key issues that we would care about, like health care and the economy. Israel? Not as much.”
Stanley, a Talarico supporter, isn’t troubled by the candidate’s views on Israel, which are becoming increasingly common in the Democratic Party.
“I think that we as a Jewish community make a mistake vilifying people or casting people as anti-Israel or antisemitic because they have the nerve to criticize somebody like Netanyahu,” said Stanley.
In January, in an email to Jewish supporters in Texas, Talarico promised that if he is elected to the Senate he will vote for arming Israel with defensive weapons. He wrote that he supports a two-state solution and removing Hamas from power, and referred to Oct. 7 as “the deadliest day for Jews since the Holocaust.”
“I think it is a very balanced and very bold position,” said Stanley.
And for pro-Israel Jews inclined toward progressive domestic politics, it may be a position that they will have to tolerate, or cede elections to Republicans who don’t criticize Israel, but disagree with them on nearly everything else.
Rabbi Nancy Kasten, the chief relationship officer at Faith Commons, an interfaith organization in Dallas, says there is “a lot of enthusiasm” for Talarico in the Jewish community. Still, she acknowledges that some of the things he has said about Israel have given critics the opportunity to pounce.
Kasten also said that some of his religious language is “jarring” for Jews, especially in invoking certain New Testament tropes.
She was looking forward to an upcoming meeting with the candidate, and hopes that he will be open to a conversation about how his language on Israel and religion lands in the Jewish community.
“Personally, I want a voice for separation of church and state, which we don’t have anymore,” she said. That said, she added, “I’m happy that there’s a different religious voice in the public square. Ceding that voice to the white, Christian, nationalist voice is harmful, and so I’m grateful that there’s somebody who seems to have the ear of people who speak that language and desire that language in politics and I’m grateful to have someone like that under the circumstances.”
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
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JB Pritzker once sat on AIPAC’s national board. Now he says he wants nothing to do with it.
(JTA) — Illinois Gov. JB Pritzker blasted AIPAC, the pro-Israel lobbying group, and other special interest groups that poured money into Illinois’ House and U.S. Senate races this week.
A Jewish Democrat who was once an AIPAC donor, Pritzker called the $70 million in outside spending “interference,” and said AIPAC in particular had lost its way as a truly bipartisan group.
“It became an organization that was supporting Donald Trump and people who follow Donald Trump,” Pritzker told the Associated Press. “AIPAC really is not an organization that I think today I would want any part of.”
AIPAC’s spending in a handful of Illinois congressional primaries was often at the center of the races’ coverage. The pro-Israel group claimed victory after none of the “Squad”-type, anti-Israel progressives won the nomination, though two of its four preferred House candidates lost.
Critics panned AIPAC for spending mostly through “shell PACs,” with innocuous-sounding names like “Elect Chicago Women” and “Affordable Chicago Now,” and said that was an indicator of AIPAC’s rapidly diminishing popularity among Democrats.
Pritzker, who is from one of Illinois’ wealthiest and most philanthropic families with a record of giving to Jewish causes, has a long record of supporting Israel. In 2013, he was honored at a fundraiser for Friends of the Israeli Defense Forces. He was once on the national board of AIPAC, and he spoke at a pro-Israel rally in the days following the Oct. 7, 2023, attack on Israel.
He is also a possible presidential candidate in party where a poll this week found that only 13% of members say they have a “positive” view of Israel, and where refusal of AIPAC support has become something of a litmus test.
California Gov. Gavin Newsom, also seen as likely to run in 2028, proudly said last month that he never has and “never will” accept any money from AIPAC.
While many Democrats’ positions on Israel have shifted over the course of the Gaza war, AIPAC has remained steadfast in drawing a red line against candidates who are open to conditioning military aid to Israel. Pritzker would be one of those candidates.
Though governors do not vote on matters of foreign policy, Pritzker came out in support of Sen. Bernie Sanders’ resolutions limiting weapons sales to Israel in 2025, saying it would send “the right kind of message.”
His comments on Wednesday were not his first public criticism of the group that he was once a donor to.
“I abandoned AIPAC more than a dozen years ago,” he said in a New York Times interview earlier this month. “It was an organization that had at one time been bipartisan in nature and really all about preserving a strong relationship between the United States and Israel. But about a dozen years ago, the organization began to lean much more to the right and much more pro-Trump, who had then become a candidate for president, and that disturbed me greatly.”
Pritzker noted that AIPAC was purely a public affairs council, and not a PAC at the time, meaning that it did not give money to candidates. It began donating directly to candidates only after forming a PAC in 2021.
“But the organization became political,” he said. “They created a super PAC. They began to get involved in elections directly and choosing to support candidates who were MAGA and right-wing and Trumpy.”
AIPAC, which prides itself on supporting candidates on both sides of the aisle, has faced criticism for endorsing more than 100 lawmakers who’d voted to overturn the election results after Trump’s loss on Jan. 6, 2021.
“I just didn’t want anything to do with that,” Pritzker said.
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
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