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How a 3-hour play about antisemitism in France became Broadway’s must-see show
(New York Jewish Week) — I’ll be honest: At the outset, a three-hour play about antisemitism did not sound like my idea of a good time. After all, as the editor of a Jewish publication, I spend much of my workdays writing about and thinking about the world’s hatred of Jews.
But my trepidation evaporated within minutes of the first scene of “Prayer for the French Republic,” Josh Harmon’s Broadway play about generations of a French Jewish family grappling with their Jewish identity, their French identity and the ways in which these identities invariably clash and overlap with one another.
From the opening scenes — in which we are introduced to the Benhamou family, including a somewhat brittle but loving matriarch, Marcelle Salomon Benhamou (Betsy Aidem); a brilliant but sarcastic daughter Elodie (Francis Benhamou); father Charles (Nael Nacer) and a religiously curious son Daniel (Aria Shahghasemi) — “Prayer for the French Republic” felt like I was looking in a mirror. Or, perhaps a more accurate description would be watching a home movie — a term that has fallen out of favor but uniquely describes that experience of observing a family’s everyday interactions as seen through the lens of someone who is apart of, rather than separate from, the family depicted on screen.
The play opens in Paris in 2016, with the family in turmoil after Daniel, who wears a kippah, gets attacked on the street just before sundown on Shabbat. It’s a time of heightened antisemitism in France, most notably with the 2015 attack by an Islamist on a kosher supermarket, which killed four and terrified Paris’ Jewish community to the core. Amid fears for their safety, over the course of three hour-long acts (punctuated by two 10-minute intermissions), the Benhamous debate joining the record number of French Jews who are moving to Israel.
The nearly present-day family’s story is punctuated by flashbacks to 1944-1946, spotlighting Marcelle’s great-grandparents, Irma and Adolphe Salomon, who miraculously survived World War II by secreting themselves in their Paris apartment — unlike their other family members who had fled to the U.S. or Cuba, or endured or succumbed to the horrors of the Nazi concentration camps.
“Prayer for the French Republic” was first mounted off-Broadway in 2022, garnering awards and rave reviews. And when it moved to Broadway earlier this month, many of its key players, including director David Cromer and stars Aidem and Francis Benahmou, came along for the ride.
I had the chance to speak with Aidem, who most recently played Grandma Emilia in another recent Broadway play about antisemitism, Tom Stoppard’s Tony Award-winning “Leopoldstadt.” The 66-year-old Upper West Sider shared with me her thoughts on the play’s relevance in 2024, her personal experiences with Judaism and why live theater is an “alchemical” experience.
This interview has been condensed and lightly edited.
Molly (Molly Ranson) and Elodie (Francis Benhamou) debate Israel in a scene from “Prayer for the French Republic.” (Jeremy Daniel)
Watching “Prayer for the French Republic,” I felt like I actually knew the Benhamou family, and that I knew your character personally. Did you feel this way when you first “met” Marcelle? What was your reaction when you read the script the first time?
I got the script at the very beginning of 2020. I was set to go to Fort Leavenworth, Kansas to direct a bunch of actors for the Arts in the Armed Forces at the army base and the army prison there. I read the script before I left. They wanted to do a startup workshop — I was like, I’ve got to get out of Kansas. I literally flew back a day early to do the workshop. That’s because when I read the play, and I read the part of Marcelle, I was blown away by how I understood who she was, and I couldn’t believe the breadth of what the writer Josh Harmon was able to give to one character in a story as beautiful as this.
The world is a very different place now than it was when the play premiered off-Broadway in January 2022. After the massacre in Israel on Oct. 7 and the turmoil over the war in Gaza, how do you think the play hits differently with audiences today?
I think the play, because it is a closeup, people see themselves in this circumstance. It becomes incredibly relatable, it’s personal. It’s not a sweeping epic. I think being able to recognize people going through something that you feel you’re going through privately — when you watch it in public it expands your sense of belonging to a greater community.
How does that happen? Because I agree — watching the play was somehow uplifting, despite the difficult subject matter. The audience was laughing and engaged. Is that the magic of theater? What is it about this play that makes it feel comforting in a really fraught time?
I think there’s something that alchemically happens in live performance. [Plus, director] David Cromer is incredibly insistent on true behavior — not doing what he calls “theatrical behavior” but really letting things get uncomfortable, showing their smudges, showing where people lose their footing. When audiences see that, they instantly enter into the center of the character’s anguish, because they’re not perfect. They’re imperfect. I think it helps them relax and go, “Oh, I do that too. I know what that feels like.” I think that’s a tribute to Josh’s writing and tribute to David’s directing, and the actors he’s assembled, who are willing to be foolish and willing to be lost. And I think that’s what makes the experience universal.
You’ve had a couple of heavy years, coming off “Leopoldstadt,” where you play Emilia, another Jewish matriarch, this time in a family epic set before and during the Holocaust. What similarities do you see between these two characters?
Emilia supposedly walked from Kyiv to Lviv on foot, which is something like over 500 miles, during one of the pogroms — she’s a survivor. She was very tough. I mean, the line that I said at the end of the 1899 [scene] was, “They used to hate us for killing Christ, now they hate us for being Jews. God, give my grandchildren the desert.” So Theodor Herzl was, at that moment, coming up with this plan [for a Jewish state in Palestine] that a lot of the Viennese thought, “Oh, who wants to give up high society and the culture that we live in, which is the best of Europe, and go live in some terrible desert?” That has a very similar theme to a family in Paris [in “Prayer for the French Republic”] thinking they live in the best, most cultured city in the world, and thinking the only safe place to go is Israel. That similarity is interesting to me.
The Benhamou family of Paris conducts a Passover seder in a scene from Broadway’s “Prayer for the French Republic.” (Jeremy Daniel)
How would you describe your own Jewish identity?
I was raised in Phoenix, Arizona, which didn’t have a large Jewish community. But I noticed in like fifth or sixth grade that all the boys were going to this thing called Hebrew school. So I asked my mom if I could also go to Hebrew school. I was a year younger than my brother and she’s like, “I’m not doing two carpools a week. You can go to your brother’s class.” So I was the only girl in my Hebrew school class, and I was the first girl at my temple to be bat mitzvahed. This was the ’60s. The only reason I kept at it was because I figured out, early on, I had a good ear and photographic memory. So they [the teachers] thought I was extremely proficient, but it was just that I figured out I had a gift.
Was this the start of your acting career?
It was a skill I didn’t know I had; it just came out at that time. Also my father, who had been raised more religiously than I, I could feel his pride that I would take an interest in this. And then I raised my son — he went to Hebrew school, he was also bar mitzvahed, even though I was a single mom and his father was Catholic. I just was like, “Yeah, we’re gonna carry this on.”
“Prayer for the French Republic” is such a deeply Jewish play. How would you describe its audience? Do you think it resonates with non-Jews?
Oh, absolutely. I have a lot of friends that aren’t Jewish, who said, “I really, really loved the play. I learned a lot.” I think Elodie’s monologue is very helpful, in a certain way, for people to say, “Gee, I didn’t think about the size of Indonesia and Pakistan and Nigeria and India being so vastly larger [than Israel]. But why is our news cycle so fixated on that?” I think people learn a lot; I think they say, “It doesn’t matter that this family is Jewish — the interaction between the siblings and the parents and the children is universal.” The actual crisis of the play has to do with something else, but their internal family dynamic is universal.
“Prayer for the French Republic,” a production of the Manhattan Theatre Club, is at the Samuel J. Friedman Theater (261 West 47th St.) through March 3. Click here for tickets and information.
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The post How a 3-hour play about antisemitism in France became Broadway’s must-see show appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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Trump Forced Israel to Surrender; Why Isn’t He Receiving the Blame?
Israel’s Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu meets with US President Donald Trump during a meeting in the Oval Office at the White House in Washington, DC, Sept. 15, 2020. Photo: REUTERS/Tom Brenner
Shortly after the Gaza war began, I reminded readers that US presidents — not Israeli prime ministers — end Israel’s wars. Predictably, President Joe Biden ended Israel’s war in Lebanon, and President-elect Donald Trump stopped the fighting in Gaza.
While Jewish Democrats welcomed the release of hostages, they couldn’t help but revel in the discomfort of Trump’s Jewish supporters, watching their carefully constructed myth of the “most pro-Israel president in history” unravel. The leader they idolized as someone who would never pressure Israel forced Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu — known for his staunch resistance to outside influence — into surrendering. Ironically, Trump achieved what his supporters falsely accused Biden of doing: preventing Israel’s destruction of Hamas.
Trump demanded that a deal be struck before his inauguration or there would be “hell to pay.” He never said what kind of deal he supported or what the penalty would be — but his supporters assumed the message was directed at Hamas. Instead, Israel is paying the price, as it always does, because the US has leverage over the Jews and not their enemies. Anyone with an honest appraisal of Trump knows that he did not care about Netanyahu’s political future or Israel’s for that matter; he wanted to claim the mantle of peacemaker and win a Nobel Prize.
If Trump’s supporters didn’t get the message from the hostage deal, he reinforced it by demanding that Israel complete its withdrawal from Lebanon in accordance with the ceasefire agreement. Biden reportedly had considered granting Israel an extension to finish cleaning up and giving the Lebanese army the chance to deploy. Trump, however, clearly doesn’t care any more about the threat to Israel from Hezbollah than the ongoing danger of Hamas if it interferes with his legacy.
Some of Trump’s biggest Jewish supporters were in such denial of Trump’s betrayal they tried to blame his negotiator, Steve Witkoff, who forced Netanyahu to show up on Shabbat to meet him to receive the president-elect’s message. Witkoff was touted for being a Jew when he was appointed, but was suspected of freelancing in collaboration with the Biden administration and the Qataris, with whom he has business relations, to strong-arm the prime minister to accept a deal that 24 hours earlier was considered by Netanyahu a threat to Israel’s future. It was preposterous that any Trump minion would act without his approval, and the conspiracy theory collapsed when the president-elect proudly claimed credit for the “EPIC” deal.
Incidentally, some Biden bashers were convinced that the president would take some Obama-like action to undermine Israel as late as his final day in office. Instead, his administration lifted restrictions on weapons that had been held up. The surprises they predicted would occur post-election proved to be steps to help rather than harm Israel.
Meanwhile, in their belief that Trump was Israel’s greatest friend, his Jewish supporters shrugged off his antisemitic remarks, his support for white supremacists (some of whom he just pardoned), repeated complaints about Jewish ingratitude for his pro-Israel policies, solicitation of Arab and Muslim Americans when he thought he might need them in Michigan, and more. Now, they must reckon with his duplicity.
Trump’s track record shows that he cares about Trump — Israel’s welfare and Jewish interests are secondary to his personal ambitions. It does help Israel that he clearly does not like Palestinians and understands that jihadists are a threat — first and foremost to the United States.
Adding to the hypocrisy, after railing against Qatar’s nefarious actions for more than a year, MAGA Jews have been mostly silent about Trump’s nomination of Pam Bondi to be attorney general. She failed to disclose her work as a lobbyist for Qatar in her official nomination documents. When asked about it in a congressional hearing, Bondi failed to answer why she didn’t mention the job, but said, “I am very proud of the work that I did. It was a short time and I wish that it had been longer, for Qatar.”
Understanding that currying favor is the prerequisite to any relationship with Trump, Netanyahu went groveling to Mar-a-Lago during the election and bit the bullet on the hostage deal (though he has twisted himself in knots to try to prove he didn’t surrender) in the hope that it would pay dividends later. One supposition is that Netanyahu’s concession will win Trump’s approval for taking military action against Iran. The idea is reinforced by the anti-Iranian remarks made by Trump and his advisers, but may be a miscalculation given the president’s clear objective set out in his inaugural speech in which he took credit for the hostage release: “My proudest legacy will be that of a peacemaker and unifier.” A war with Iran would directly contradict his aspirations for a Nobel Prize.
Showing loyalty to Trump paid immediate dividends on inauguration day, when Trump began dismantling the Biden legacy. Among the blizzard of executive orders and rescissions of Biden’s actions were the lifting of sanctions on Jewish settlers and reinstating restrictions on staff of the International Criminal Court.
Trump also ordered the suspension of US foreign assistance programs for 90 days while they are reviewed for alignment with his policy goals. That has been interpreted as a precursor to cutting aid to the Palestinians and UNRWA. The order does not apply to Israel, and, despite the isolationist slant of the administration and opposition to foreign assistance in general, Trump is not only expected to continue support for Israel but to end the embargo on the transfer of 2,000-pound bombs imposed by Biden.
Trump’s focus on Saudi-Israeli normalization is yet another example of his peacemaking ambitions. Though Biden laid the groundwork for these discussions, Trump is poised to take full credit for any breakthrough — a move that could greatly benefit Israel while burnishing his legacy.
Though his Jewish supporters refuse to admit it, Trump’s actions often harmed Israel in his first term — while also doing a great deal to legitimately earn their praise. The past week is proof that his second term will very likely lead to similar results for Israel.
Mitchell Bard is a foreign policy analyst and authority on US-Israel relations who has written and edited 22 books including: The Arab Lobby, Death to the Infidels: Radical Islam’s War Against the Jews, and After Anatevka: Tevye in Palestine.
The post Trump Forced Israel to Surrender; Why Isn’t He Receiving the Blame? first appeared on Algemeiner.com.
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The Bishop Who Confronted Trump: When Clergy Put Progressive Politics Above Their Sacred Duty
Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde speaks as US President Donald Trump, first lady Melania, and US Vice President JD Vance with second lady Usha attend the National Day of Prayer Service at the Washington National Cathedral in Washington, DC, Jan. 21, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Kevin Lamarque
Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde isn’t just any church leader. She’s the Episcopal Bishop of Washington, DC, overseeing 86 congregations, ten Episcopal schools, and — most notably — the Washington National Cathedral. In other words, she’s the face of Christianity in the US capital, with a pulpit perfectly positioned to inspire people of faith.
And to be clear, the National Cathedral isn’t just some grand old church. It’s the nation’s most prominent Christian place of worship — America’s cathedral, serving as an iconic backdrop for state funerals, presidential prayer services, and moments of national reflection.
Teddy Roosevelt laid the foundation stone. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. preached his last Sunday sermon there. Reagan, Ford, Bush 41, and just a couple of weeks ago, Jimmy Carter, had their funerals under its towering arches. If there’s one place where national unity is supposed to take precedence over political point-scoring, it’s here.
Which brings us back to Bishop Budde. This week, she had one job. A simple one, really. Stand at the lectern, offer a prayer, bless the moment, and step aside. That’s what clergy are supposed to do at national events — bring a touch of solemnity, a moment of reflection, and maybe even a bit of spiritual elevation. But Budde? She just couldn’t help herself.
Budde has a history of using her religious platform for political commentary. During the George Floyd protests in June 2020, she was one of the loudest voices condemning President Donald Trump’s visit to St. John’s Episcopal Church in Washington, DC, which took place after law enforcement cleared protesters from Lafayette Square, a routine security measure when a sitting president moves through an area.
But rather than acknowledging the practical realities, Budde framed the visit as a cynical political maneuver, accusing Trump of exploiting religious imagery for his own ends.
This week was no different — except this time, President Trump was sitting just a few feet away as Budde launched into a politically charged critique at his expense. Rather than honoring the occasion with dignity, she hijacked the post-inaugural prayer service, turning it into a political spectacle.
Her pulpit became a platform for protest instead of prayer. The US presidential inauguration — what should have been a unifying moment, regardless of political affiliation — descended into yet another tiresome lecture, chastising Trump for carrying out the mandate given to him by the American electorate.
US President Donald Trump stands near Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde as he attends the National Day of Prayer Service at the Washington National Cathedral in Washington, DC, Jan. 21, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Kevin Lamarque
Of course, Bishop Budde is entitled to her opinions. But taking what should have been a celebration of democracy and twisting it into a sermon scolding the president was tasteless at best, manipulative at worst. Then again, should anyone really be surprised?
In the modern Episcopal Church, the religious leader’s primary job — namely, to guide souls, offer comfort, and teach faith in God — has been replaced by something else entirely. Increasingly, its clergy seem more interested in being political activists than spiritual shepherds.
And the rot runs deep. For decades, the Episcopal Church has been a haven for “progressive” clergy who see religion as little more than a vehicle for their ideological crusades.
Some have gone even further — questioning, reinterpreting, and in some cases outright rejecting the very faith they were ordained to uphold. Take Bishop John Shelby Spong, who led the Episcopal Diocese of Newark from 1979 to 2000. He famously declared that “theism is dead” and dismissed the very idea of talking about God as meaningless.
Then there was William Montgomery Brown, the Episcopal Bishop of Arkansas, who began his career preaching the Gospel and ended it preaching communism — before abandoning even that and embracing full-blown atheism, proudly referring to himself as a “Christian atheist,” whatever that is meant to mean.
Brown holds the dubious distinction of being the first Protestant bishop to be tried for heresy since the Reformation and the first of any creed in America to be officially deposed for heretical teachings. Yes, an Episcopal bishop who, in the end, didn’t believe in God at all. You can’t make this stuff up.
And it doesn’t stop there. The Episcopal Church has long been at the forefront of anti-Israel activism, always cloaked in the noble language of “humanitarian concern.” The Episcopal Peace Fellowship Palestine Israel Network eagerly parrots the same tired narratives as the pro-Palestinian woke mob, dismissing Israel’s security concerns and opposing the designation of six Palestinian NGOs as terrorist organizations — even when clear evidence linked them to terror groups. It’s as if they believe launching rockets at civilians or intimidating Jewish students on college campuses is some kind of moral high ground.
Meanwhile, Episcopalian activists have been among the loudest voices pushing for divestment from Israel, all while conveniently turning a blind eye to far worse human rights abuses across the Middle East and beyond.
And now, Budde has used her national platform not to offer a message of hope or faith, but to take cheap political shots under the guise of religious solemnity. Strangely enough, for anyone familiar with biblical narrative, this all feels eerily familiar. In Parshat Va’era, we get to know Pharaoh — the vain, self-absorbed ruler of Egypt who considered himself a god.
To Pharaoh, religion wasn’t about truth or faith — and it certainly wasn’t about God. It was a tool, a convenient means to impose his version of right and wrong on everyone around him. He cloaked himself in divine authority, much like Budde drapes herself in a bishop’s red and white vestments. But he didn’t use his role to bring people closer to God. He used it to push his own warped agenda — one that ultimately brought misery to everyone around him.
Pharaoh didn’t serve truth. He didn’t serve God. He served only himself.
Like Pharaoh, Budde is using her religious authority to push a distinctly liberal political agenda. She wraps it in piety, but the goal isn’t faith. Instead, it’s about using a sacred moment to make a partisan point.
In the biblical narrative, Pharaoh thought he could control reality, bending it to his will. But in the end, he learned the hard way that there are forces beyond his grasp. Those who twist faith to fit their own agendas — whether in ancient Egypt or in modern America — eventually find that it doesn’t end well.
Religious leaders have every right to their personal convictions. I’m a religious leader, and I have strong views on just about every subject imaginable. But when we step up to the pulpit, our job is to lead people to God — not to the latest round of progressive talking points.
If clergy want to be politicians, they should run for office. If they want to be shepherds of faith — whether in churches, synagogues, or mosques — they should stop weaponizing the pulpit and turning sacred spaces into platforms for political grandstanding.
Because when faith leaders act more like politicians and protest campaigners, they don’t just lose credibility — they risk losing the very soul of the institution they claim to represent.
The post The Bishop Who Confronted Trump: When Clergy Put Progressive Politics Above Their Sacred Duty first appeared on Algemeiner.com.
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Hamas Names Four Israeli Female Soldier Hostages to Be Freed in Second Swap
Families and supporters of Israeli hostages kidnapped during the deadly Oct. 7, 2023 attack by Hamas gather to demand a deal that will bring back all the hostages held in Gaza, outside a meeting between hostage representatives and Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, in Jerusalem, Jan. 14, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Ammar Awad
Palestinian terrorist group Hamas announced the names on Friday of four Israeli women soldier hostages to be released in exchange for Palestinian prisoners in the second swap under the ceasefire deal in Gaza.
Karina Ariev, Daniella Gilboa, Naama Levy, and Liri Albag would be released on Saturday, the group said.
A combination picture shows Israeli hostages Karina Ariev, Naama Levy, Liri Albag, and Daniela Gilboa, soldiers who were seized from their army base in southern Israel during the deadly Oct. 7, 2023 attack by Hamas, in these undated handout pictures. Photo: Courtesy of Bring Them Home Now/Handout via REUTERS
The exchange, expected to begin on Saturday afternoon, follows the release on the ceasefire’s first day last Sunday of three Israeli women and 90 Palestinian prisoners, the first such exchange for more than a year.
Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s office confirmed that the list had been received from the mediators. Israel’s response would be presented later, it said in a statement.
Israeli media reported that the list of hostages slated for release was not in line with the original agreement, but it was not immediately clear whether this would have any impact on the planned exchange.
In the six-week first phase of the Gaza ceasefire, Israel has agreed to release 50 Palestinian prisoners for every female soldier released, officials have said. That suggests that 200 Palestinian prisoners would be released in return for the four. The Palestinians slated to be released from Israeli jails were largely detained for involvement in terrorist activities.
The Hamas prisoners media office said it expected to get the names of 200 Palestinians to be freed on Saturday in the coming hours. It said the list was expected to include 120 prisoners serving life sentences and 80 prisoners with other lengthy sentences.
Since the release of the first three women on Sunday and the recovery of the body of an Israeli soldier missing for a decade, Israel says 94 Israelis and foreigners remain held in Gaza.
The ceasefire agreement, worked out after months of on-off negotiations brokered by Qatar and Egypt and backed by the United States, halted the fighting for the first time since a truce that lasted just a week in November 2023.
In the first phase, Hamas has agreed to release 33 hostages in exchange for hundreds of Palestinian prisoners held in Israeli jails.
In a subsequent phase, the two sides would negotiate the exchange of the remaining hostages and the withdrawal of Israeli forces from Gaza.
Hamas started the war when it led an invasion of and massacre across southern Israel on Oct. 7, 2023. During the onslaught, Palestinian terrorists murdered 1,200 people and kidnapped 251 hostages. Israel responded with a military campaign aimed at freeing the hostages and dismantling Hamas’s military and governing capabilities in neighboring Gaza.
The release of the first three hostages last week brought an emotional response from Israelis. But the phased release has drawn protests from some Israelis who fear the deal will break down after women, children, elderly, and ill hostages are freed in the first phase, condemning male hostages of military age whose fate is not to be resolved until later.
Others, including some in the government, feel the deal hands a victory to Hamas, which has reasserted its presence in Gaza despite vows of Israeli leaders to destroy it. Hardliners, including Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich, have demanded that Israel resume fighting at the end of the first phase.
Most of Hamas‘s top leadership and thousands of its fighters have been killed but the group’s police have returned to the streets since the ceasefire.
The post Hamas Names Four Israeli Female Soldier Hostages to Be Freed in Second Swap first appeared on Algemeiner.com.
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