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In Turkey, a festival revives a jewel of the Sephardic world and aims to break stereotypes

IZMIR, Turkey (JTA) — Prague has the dubious honor of being chosen by Adolf Hitler to be a record of what he hoped would be the vanquished Jews of Europe. The Nazis left many of the city’s synagogues and Jewish sites relatively intact, intending to showcase them as the remnants of an extinct culture.

That has made Prague a popular tourist destination for both Jewish travelers and others interested in Jewish history since the fall of the Iron Curtain: the city provides an uncommon look into the pre-war infrastructure of Ashkenazi Europe.

Could Izmir, Turkey’s third largest city, become a Sephardic version, in terms of history and tourism? That’s the goal for Nesim Bencoya, director of the Izmir Jewish Heritage project. 

The city, once known in Greek as Smyrna, has had a Jewish presence since antiquity, with early church documents mentioning Jews as far back as the second century AD. Like elsewhere in the Ottoman Empire, though, its community grew exponentially with the influx of Sephardic Jews who came after their expulsion from Spain. 

At its peak, the city was home to around 30,000 Jews and was the hometown of Jewish artists, writers and rabbis — from the esteemed Pallache and Algazii rabbinical families, to the musician Dario Marino, to the famously false messiah, Shabbetai Zevi, whose childhood home still stands in Izmir today. 

Today, fewer than 1,300 remain. The establishment of the state of Israel, coupled with a century of economic and political upheaval, led to the immigration of the majority of Turkish Jewry. 

“From the 17th century, Izmir was a center for Sephardic Jewry,” Bencoya told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency. “We can’t recreate that, but we cannot forget that either.”

Izmir is located on Turkey’s Aegean coast. (David I. Klein)

Celebrating in the former Jewish quarter

Bencoya, who is in his late 60s, was born in Izmir but spent most of his adult life in Israel, where he led the Haifa Cinematheque, but he returned to Izmir 13 years ago to helm the heritage project, which has worked to highlight the the culture and history of Izmir’s Jewish community.

Over nine days in December that included the week of Hanukkah, thousands attended the annual Sephardic culture festival that he has organized since 2018. The festival included concerts of Jewish and Ladino music, traditional food tastings, lectures on Izmir’s Jewish community, and — since it coincided with Hanukkah and also a Shabbat — both a menorah lighting ceremony and havdalah ceremony were conducted with explanations from Izmir’s leading cantor, Nesim Beruchiel. 

This year’s festival marked a turning point: it was the first in which organizers were able to show off several of the centuries-old synagogues that the project — with funding from the European Union and the local municipality — has been restoring. 

The synagogues, most of which are clustered around a street still called Havra Sokak (havra being the Turkish spelling of the Hebrew word chevra, or congregation) represent a unique piece of cultural heritage. 

Nesim Bencoya speaks from his office next to the restored Sinyora Synagogue in Izmir. (David I. Klein)

Once upon a time, the street was the heart of the Jewish quarter or “Juderia,” but today it is right in the middle of Izmir’s Kemeralti Bazaar, a bustling market district stretching over 150 acres where almost anything can be bought and sold. On Havra Sokak, the merchants hock fresh fruits, and hopefully fresher fish. One street to the south one can find all manner of leather goods; one to the north has markets for gold, silver and other precious metals; one to the west has coffee shops. In between them all are other shops selling everything from crafts to tchotchkes to kitchenware to lingerie. 

Several mosques and a handful of churches dot the area, but the synagogues revive a unique character of the district that had been all but lost.  

“The synagogues here were built under the light of Spain. But in Spain today, there are only two major historic synagogues, Toledo and Cordoba, and they are big ones. You don’t have smaller ones. Here we have six on one block, built with the memory of what was there by those who left Spain,” Bencoya said. 

Those synagogues have been home to major events in Jewish history — such as when Shabbetei Zvi broke into Izmir’s Portuguese Synagogue one Sabbath morning, drove out his opponents and declared himself the messiah (he cultivated a large following but was later imprisoned and forced to convert to Islam). The synagogue, known in Turkish as Portekez, was among those restored by the project. 

Today, only two of Izmir’s synagogues are in regular use by its Jewish community, but the others that were restored are now available as exhibition and event spaces. 

Educating non-Jews

Hosting the festival within Izmir’s unique synagogues has an additional purpose, since the overwhelming majority of the attendees were not Jewish. 

“Most of the people who come to the festival have never been to a synagogue, maybe a small percentage of them have met a Jew once in their lives,” Bencoya said. 

That’s particularly important in a country where antisemitic beliefs are far from uncommon. In a 2015 study by the Anti-Defamation League, 71% of respondents from Turkey believe in some antisemitic stereotypes

The festival included concerts of Jewish and Ladino music, traditional food tastings and lectures on Izmir’s Jewish community.(David I. Klein)

“This festival is not for Jewish people to know us, but for non-Jews,” Bencoya said. Now, “Hundreds of Turkish Muslim people have come to see us, to listen to our holidays and taste what we do.”

Kayra Ergen, a native of Izmir who attended a Ladino concert and menorah lighting event at the end of the festival, told JTA that until a year ago, he had no idea how Jewish Izmir once was. 

“I know that Anatolia is a multicultural land, and also Turkey is, but this religion, by which I mean Jewish people, left this place a long time ago because of many bad events. But it’s good to remember these people, and their roots in Izmir,” Ergen said. “This is so sad and lame to say out loud, but I didn’t know about this — that only 70 years ago, 60% of this area here in Konak [the district around Kemeralti] was Jewish. Today I believe only 1,300 remain. This is not good. But we must do whatever we can and this festival is a good example of showing the love between cultures.”

“I think it’s good that we’re respecting each other in here,” said Zeynep Uslu, another native of Izmir. “A lot of different cultures and a lot of different people. It’s good that we’re together here celebrating something so special.”

Izmir’s history as a home for minorities has not been all rosy. At the end of the Ottoman period, the city was around half Greek, a tenth Jewish and a tenth Armenian, while the remainder were Turkish Muslims and an assortment of foreigners. In the Greco-Turkish war of 1919-1922 — remembered in Turkey as the Turkish War of Independence — the Greek and Armenian quarters of Izmir were burned to the ground after the Turkish army retook the city from the Greek forces, killing tens of thousands. A mass exodus of the survivors followed, but the Jewish and Muslim portions of the city were largely unharmed.

Izmir is not the only city in Turkey which has seen its synagogues restored in recent years. Notable projects are being completed in Edirne, a city on the Turkish western border near Bulgaria, and Kilis, on its southeastern border near Syria. Unlike Izmir, though, no Jews remain in either of those cities today, and many have accused the project of being a tool for President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s government to assuage accusations of antisemitism, without actually dealing with living Jews. 

Losing Ladino and a ‘quiet’ mindset

Bencoya lamented that he is among the last generation for whom Ladino — the Judeo-Spanish language traditionally spoken by Sephardic Jews, but only spoken by tens of thousands today — was at least a part of his childhood. 

“When you lose language, it’s not only technical, it’s not only vocabulary, it’s a whole world and a way of thinking,” Bencoya said. 

The project is challenging a local Jewish mentality as well. Minority groups in Izmir, especially Jews, “have for a long time preferred not to be seen, not to be felt,” according to Bencoya.

That mindset has been codified in the Turkish Jewish community’s collective psyche in the form of a Ladino word, “kayedes,” which means something along the lines of “shhh,” “be quiet,” or “keep your head down.”

“This is the exact opposite that I want to do with this festival — to be felt, to raise awareness of my being,” Bencoya said. 

The Bikur Holim Synagogue is one of the few still functioning in Izmir. (David I. Klein)

One way of doing that, he added, was having the festival refer to the community’s identity “as Yahudi and not Musevi!” Both are Turkish words that refer to Jews: the former having the same root as the English word Jew — the Hebrew word Yehuda or Judea — while the latter means “follower of Moses.”

“Yahudi, Musevi, Ibrani [meaning Hebrew, in Turkish] — they all mean the same thing, but in Turkey, they say Musevi because it sounds nicer,” Bencoya said. “To Yahudi there are a lot of negative superlatives — dirty Yahudi, filthy Yahudi, and this and that. So I insist on saying that I am Yahudi, because people have a lot of pre-judgements about the name Yahudi. So if you have prejudgements about me, let’s open them and talk about them.”

“I am not so romantic that I can eliminate all antisemitism, but if I can eliminate some of the prejudgements, then I can live a little more at peace,” he added.

So far, he feels the festival is a successful first step. 

“The non-Jewish community of Izmir is fascinated,” Bencoya said. “If you look on Facebook and Instagram, they are talking about it, they are fighting over tickets, which sell out almost immediately.” 

Now, he is only wondering how next year he will be able to fit more people into the small and aged synagogues. 

“For Turkey, [the festival] is very important because Turkey can be among the enlightened nations of the world, only by being aware of the differences between groups of people, such as Jews, Christians, others, and Muslims,” he said.


The post In Turkey, a festival revives a jewel of the Sephardic world and aims to break stereotypes appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.

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Trump’s messy new deal with Saudi Arabia shows how far Israel has fallen

The American decision to sign a deal granting Saudi Arabia a pathway toward a civilian nuclear program is a terrible development for Israel — not just because Riyadh could one day turn nuclear infrastructure developed with the United States into a weapons capability.

The agreement reflects the collapse of Israeli strategy under Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu since the Hamas attack of Oct. 7, 2023; the erosion of Israel’s influence in the U.S.; and Israel’s descent toward the status of a pariah state.

A day after the deal was announced, Trump — seemingly rattled by the flood of criticism that ensued — said it was dependent on Saudi Arabia joining the Abraham Accords. But he did not clarify what aspect of the Accords he meant; there’s no indication that such a requirement is included in the already-signed deal; and Riyadh has made clear that it will do no such thing until there is concrete progress toward a Palestinian state, which is a fantastical notion under the current Israeli government.

For years, nuclear cooperation represented one of Washington’s greatest sources of leverage over Saudi Arabia. It was long believed that prospect would be used to anchor some kind of pact involving normalization with Israel, binding nuclear safeguards, a regional defense architecture and a united front against Iran. Under such an arrangement, Israel would have established formal relations with the Arab world’s most influential power, and gained both a central role in a new regional security system and enforceable Saudi commitments against pursuit of nuclear weapons.

Washington has now at least begun giving Riyadh the prize — no matter what Trump says, amending the deal post-facto will be at best extraordinarily difficult — without Israel receiving any of the benefits.

That dire truth is the outcome of nearly three years in which Israel has confused military brilliance with strategy, and abandoned almost all public diplomacy as its status in the world plummeted.

No one can deny the extraordinary capabilities displayed by Israel’s armed forces and intelligence services since the Oct. 7 massacre. Hezbollah absorbed devastating blows. Iranian military assets suffered setbacks. Hamas lost thousands of fighters and much of its military infrastructure.

But a sense of true strategy is needed to convert military achievement to political outcomes. Strategy can strengthen alliances, expand legitimacy and leave a country in a stronger geopolitical position than the one in which it entered a conflict.

That seems to be completely beyond Netanyahu’s ability.

In the months immediately following Oct. 7, Israel possessed something extraordinarily rare: overwhelming international legitimacy. Hamas had committed an atrocity that horrified much of the democratic world. Moderate Arab governments viewed Hamas as a dangerous extension of the same Islamist forces that threatened their own stability. Former President Joe Biden’s administration recognized that extraordinary alignment, and sought to build upon it, working toward an ambitious regional framework.

In the early months of war, Hamas faced near-unanimous global pressure to hand over Gaza to a reformed Palestinian Authority, backed by moderate Arab governments. Arab states appeared ready to help marginalize Hamas politically and financially, and make life uncomfortable for its leaders.

For a moment, it was easy to see a path forward in which Saudi Arabia would normalize relations with Israel, with other countries following. A U.S.-led regional alliance facing Iran might integrate Israel into the Middle East more deeply than was ever previously imaginable.

That framework offered Israel the chance to translate the trauma of Oct. 7 into a strategic transformation of the region. Instead, Netanyahu chose an open-ended war whose nebulously defined goals were not achievable by military means alone, amid a reasonable and growing suspicion in the public and around the world that he was doing so to preserve his hold on power.

Every few weeks Israelis heard that Hamas stood on the verge of collapse. Each extension of the war was presented as the last before “complete victory” — which Netanyahu kept claiming was “a step” away. Victory remained perpetually on the horizon as Israel’s international standing collapsed.

Now, Netanyahu is wanted at the Hague. Diplomatic isolation has deepened and economic pressure mounted as boycott movements — including many informal ones — expanded.

And critically, American public opinion has shifted sharply, particularly among younger Americans, threatening the bipartisan foundation upon which Israel’s relationship with Washington has rested for generations.

Recent credible polls show that more Americans now sympathize with Palestinians than with Israelis.

Israelis think this happened because of a propaganda campaign against them on social media, because of antisemitism in Europe, or because of hostile journalists. That is partly true but mostly wrong. These shifts are mostly a result of the posture of the Israeli government.

The reality is that Israel killed tens of thousands of Palestinian civilians, accepted that toll with remarkably little public reflection or regret, and relied on the trauma of Oct. 7 to justify it. Around the world, that proved politically devastating. It is especially absurd considering that Israel paid this extraordinary price without achieving its central objective of removing Hamas from Gaza — which was foreseeable and infuriating.

Things might change if the opposition comes to power in October. The idiotic demonization of the Palestinian Authority might end. Jewish terrorism in the West Bank might be stamped out. Settlement construction beyond the fence line, and certainly illegal outposts, might stop.

Israel might again at least be trying to find a solution to the festering Palestinian issue — or at least prefer to lower the flames. That might, in the long term, bring Saudi Arabia back to the table.

But the U.S, has stopped waiting. That the Saudi deal was signed at all, no matter what Trump says now, suggests that Washington is now basically indifferent to the loss of leverage for a deal favoring Israel.

How to resolve the muddle Trump has made? The key: the agreement appears to not include the possibility of enrichment on Saudi soil, but just general assistance to create a program for nuclear energy. So Trump will be able to say that enrichment must await Saudi normalization with Israel. But Saudi Arabia will still be able to claim the symbolic victory of entering into nuclear collaboration with the U.S.

And so, the regional architecture envisioned in the first months after Oct. 7 has vanished because of the forever-wars Netanyahu has pursued — which also resulted in the deaths of dozens of hostages and more than 1,000 soldiers, badly damaged Israel’s economy, and left the country’s international standing in shambles.

And the strategic alliance between Israel and the U.S. — without which Israel’s very existence will be in danger — is falling apart in front of our eyes, not because of Trump but because we are losing the American people.

This is what you get when you are all brawn and no brain, and all tactics and no strategy.

That realization should define Israel’s coming election far more even than arguments over judicial reform or the Haredi draft. Those who have led Israel into this disaster deserve to be punished. Not just removed from power, but decisively repudiated. They have become a danger to the Zionist project itself.

The post Trump’s messy new deal with Saudi Arabia shows how far Israel has fallen appeared first on The Forward.

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Harvard students have questions after Hillel withdraws its brief against Trump

Jewish Harvard students are still trying to make sense of a baffling turn of events, after Hillel International weighed in on the university’s lawsuit against the Trump administration seeking restoration of federal funding withheld over alleged campus antisemitism — and then just as suddenly withdrew its brief from the U.S. Court of Appeals for the First Circuit.

Hillel International had filed an amicus brief Wednesday supporting Harvard’s suit against the federal government, which seeks to restore roughly $2.7 billion in federal research funding. In its brief, Hillel International acknowledged that antisemitism is an issue at Harvard and other universities, but that “campus life for Jewish students has meaningfully improved” following actions taken by the school.

Less than 24 hours later, Hillel International confirmed that it was withdrawing the brief, citing an error in its internal review process, according to the student newspaper, the Harvard Crimson.

What’s more, Hillel International filed the brief without the knowledge of Harvard Hillel, a campus organization that operates independently, the paper reported.

Hillel’s reversal followed sharp criticism of the brief on social media from some Jewish public figures. Among them was Shabbos Kestenbaum, a Harvard Divinity School graduate who filed a Title VI lawsuit against the university for ignoring antisemitism. He wrote on X that he was “shocked” by the decision.

“Rather than take responsibility for their failure to respond to the explosion of antisemitism on American campuses post October 7th, Hillel has instead decided to support the perpetrators,” Kestenbaum wrote. He encouraged donors to stop giving to Hillel and choose organizations like Chabad or Jewish day schools instead.

Kestenbaum told the Harvard Crimson that Hillel International President Adam Lehman had not seen the brief before the organization filed it. Hillel International did not respond to an inquiry from the Forward to confirm this.

Hillel’s withdrawal of the brief disappointed Tova Kaplan, a recent graduate who testified at a U.S. Commission on Civil Rights hearing on campus antisemitism. The brief cited her testimony.

“While I’m not sure what factors led to this decision, it feels like a prioritization of politics over Jewish students,” Kaplan wrote in a statement to the Forward.

“The Trump administration’s attacks aren’t even designed to help Jewish students — instead, they’re designed to instrumentalize our voices and pain to achieve their own political goals,” she wrote.

Siding with Harvard along with numerous other groups, including civil liberties organizations across the ideological spectrum and 18 other American universities, the withdrawn brief argued that cutting research funding is not a productive way to halt university antisemitism. Harvard’s improvement measures, following recommendations from its own Task Force on Combating Antisemitism and Anti-Israel Bias, have been more effective than what the brief called the “draconian one-size-fits-all approaches of the sort the government here pursues.”

These measures, the withdrawn brief said,  “do not help Jewish students or improve the campus climate” but instead, “they disproportionately impact the very Jewish students and Jewish researchers the government purportedly seeks to help.”

But another recent graduate who said he did not want to be identified, sees Hillel’s opposition to the Trump administration’s actions as taking the wrong side of the fight. He believes the federal defunding of Harvard pushes the university to protect Jewish students.

“I think a major reason Harvard’s been making changes is because they’re under threat,” he said.

He also contends Hillel International’s evidence to back its claim that Harvard’s efforts have improved antisemitism are weak — lacking measurable results.

Dani Kobrick, a rising senior, said she is perplexed by Hillel International’s actions.

“I don’t think Hillel needed to submit anything to begin with,” she said. “But I do think that withdrawing it makes a very big statement.”

The post Harvard students have questions after Hillel withdraws its brief against Trump appeared first on The Forward.

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A Jerusalem cafe became a symbol of secular defiance — until Israelis learned it was run by Jews for Jesus

(JTA) — JERUSALEM — Jerusalem’s premier soccer team made an unusual announcement last week: It would give a new cafe free advertising on players’ uniforms for the coming season.

Cafe Basimta was facing harassment from haredi Orthodox protesters who wanted it to close on Shabbat, and Hapoel Jerusalem said it wanted to send the message that Jerusalem is “an open and diverse city, where there is room for everyone.”

But on Tuesday, Hapoel Jerusalem reversed course and retracted the offer, after learning via an inquiry from the Jewish Telegraphic Agency that Cafe Basimta is an official project of Jews for Jesus.

“Our original intention was simply to support a small business that was being denied its freedom of operation, and we still believe in that principle,” club spokesperson Matan Avrina told JTA. “However, we also realized that this specific story is more complex than we initially knew.”

For the secular Israelis who have flocked to Cafe Basimta in response to the protests, too, the revelation of the cafe’s ties to a Christian missionary organization is complicating what had seemed like a simple skirmish in the city’s culture war over businesses open on the Jewish day of rest.

“I don’t know if it changes my desire to drink their coffee, but it definitely complicates things,” Gabriel, an American studying in Jerusalem for the year, told JTA on Saturday from the cafe’s long line after learning about the Jews for Jesus connection, as protesters yelled. “It’s one layer deeper than I thought.”

Others say the cafe’s Christian character is irrelevant to their defense of Cafe Basimta.

“I understand they hate Jews for Jesus, and I understand what they hate them for,” said Jerusalem’s deputy mayor Adir Schwartz, who is a prominent defender of the city’s secular sector, in an interview. “My father was a rabbi abroad, and I get that they feel they are protecting Jewish continuity.But this is about belonging in our shared city.”

Yoel Ben David, the cafe’s operator as well as Jews for Jesus’ top official in Jerusalem, says the twin culture wars have been good for business.

“Even though financially, it’s great, me and the staff, we don’t love it,” he told JTA from his cafe on Saturday. “We’d all love it to just chill out.”

At first, the tensions over Cafe Basimta seemed straightforward: In a city where 46% of Jews are haredi, or ultra-Orthodox, and only 13% identify as secular, the inverse of Israel as a whole, here was a rare cafe willing to flout religious authorities and open on Shabbat. A handful of such cafes dot the city, but others have given up on Shabbat hours in the past over pressure from religious authorities.

Cafe Basimta, which means “cafe in the alley,” opened at the end of May in the Nahlaot neighborhood of central Jerusalem. The name refers to the neighborhood’s 19th century stone dwellings toppling into one another along tiny streets. Decades ago a center of the city’s bohemian culture, Nahlaot is now increasingly haredi and there are few if any establishments open on Shabbat.

On July 4, the first Saturday it drew protesters, dozens of haredi demonstrators, many of them reportedly minors, descended on the cafe in four separate waves, surrounding it, banging on its windows and overturning tables, according to cafe staff and footage circulated online.

At the time, the cafe’s ties to Jews for Jesus were not public. That changed in early July, when Or LeAchim, a haredi anti-missionary organization that helps Jews leave missionary groups and cults, exposed the connections and began organizing protests against Cafe Basimta.

The group has placed pashkevils, or public billboards, denouncing the cafe in the neighborhood. “The missionary-messianic influence operates all the more forcefully by winning over hearts through food and drink,” the placards say in Hebrew. “And as if that were not enough, they added sin upon crime and began operating the place on the holy Sabbath, with disgraceful Sabbath desecration in the heart of the holy city.”

The revelations surprised and deterred some who had been inclined to support the cafe. But they did not change the tenor of the demonstrations, which remain focused on Basimta’s Shabbat operations.

“People went to demonstrate because it was open on Shabbos. They did not know that it was a missionary place. The demonstration was not useful for us,” said Binyamin Klugger, who works with Or LeAchim as well as other anti-missionary groups, and who was concerned the aggression of the Haredi protesters would undercut his message about the cafe’s evangelizing mission. “People that continue to demonstrate are really not knowing that it is a missionary place,” he said,

During Saturday’s demonstration, cries of “Shabbos!” echoed off the stone alleyways as the line of Israelis waiting for cold coffees stretched into the courtyard.

Israeli police stepped in to cordon off the protesters, preventing them from approaching the cafe. Some secular Israelis yelled back, with a handful at one point breaking into “Shalom Aleichem,” the hymn traditionally sung at the Shabbat table.

Residents stared down at the altercations from their balconies, the screams shattering an otherwise quiet Shabbat morning. Yael Levy, who moved to Israel from California and lives in the building directly beside Cafe Basimta, was handing out cookies to build goodwill.

“It’s very sad, especially during the Three Weeks,” she said, referring to the mourning period between the 17th of Tammuz and Tisha B’Av, when Jews commemorate the destruction of both Temples, a destruction rabbinic tradition attributes to baseless hatred among Jews. “This is just bad energy during a time that calls for positive energy.”

Outside, a long line of coffee fiends waited their turn to choose from an extensive drinks menu, as Ben David greeted customers and monitored the demonstration.

There were no visible signs of the cafe’s affiliation with Jews for Jesus. But Ben David confirmed that the organization owns the building and the cafe, which joins a growing network of similar outposts across the country. He said he is aiming to strike a balance between missionary work and just offering a pleasant place to work or meet.

“Everyone accuses us of that,” Ben David said about proselytizing. “The Jesus goal is not completely out, but it’s not front and center.”

Jews for Jesus is a flagship organization of the diffuse movement of Messianic Judaism, which believes in the divinity of Jesus while claiming to practice Judaism — an overlap that no denomination across the Jewish world accepts as compatible. While hard numbers about how many Israelis hold Messianic beliefs are scarce, both Messianic leaders and their critics believe the number is growing. Last year, one of the two Israeli embassy workers killed in an attack outside the Capital Jewish Museum in Washington, D.C., came from an Israeli Messianic family.

In 2024, Jews for Jesus appointed a member with an Israeli background as its CEO for the first time, and the Israeli branch of the global organization took in roughly $6 million in revenue that year, supporting a local staff of 60. On its website, it solicits donations for its Israel work, including, in one December 2025 appeal, $225,000 to launch a coffee shop and ministry center in Haifa, which it called a “welcoming space where Israelis can encounter the hope of Yeshua,” the Hebrew name for Jesus.

Ben David has worked with Jews for Jesus for more than two decades. He was born in Israel and came to believe in the divinity of Jesus as a young adult, together with his wife, around the time of his stint in the army, where he served as an Orthodox rabbi. He has a master’s degree from a Messianic seminary and once helmed training for missionary staff in Israel, according to Jews for Jesus’ website, which says he “now leads our work in Jerusalem, bringing the gospel back to the city where he first believed.”

Missionary activity is not illegal in Israel, with the exception of proselytizing to minors without their parents’ consent and offering religious conversions in exchange for a material gift. But many Israelis believe that it is, in a reflection of the deep cultural norms in Jewish communities.

Or LeAchim says it is planning a future protest that will focus more squarely on Cafe Basimta’s missionary ambitions.

“We are planning to hold a massive protest there soon — involving thousands of people — on a weekday,” said Rabbi Binyamin Vulcan, the group’s head of counter-missionary activities. “In the meantime, we are trying to get the place shut down through the municipality.”

Ben David said Jews for Jesus, anticipating such a response, bought Basimta’s building instead of renting it from a landlord who could be susceptible to a pressure campaign. At the same time, he insisted he didn’t understand the uproar.

“If Jesus is the Jewish Messiah,” Ben David said, “what could be more Jewish than believing in Jesus?” As for the missionary label, he insists the cafe is about more than just theology: “We don’t put crosses in our espresso,” he said.

Klugger said he is mystified about why the same secular Jerusalemites who are uncomfortable with the growing haredi character of the city are willing to buy coffee from someone who wants them to stop being Jewish altogether.

“If you don’t want haredim influencing your children,” he said, “you also can’t want missionaries influencing your children.”

Some Shabbat customers, meanwhile, say they have heard the warnings and aren’t swayed — for them, who owns the cafe is beside the point.

“I’m not going to convert because of the coffee, unless it’s really good coffee, then maybe,” said Lior Stern, who drove from the Tel Aviv area to support the cafe after hearing about the protests. “It could be Buddhist, it could be Muslim, it could be Jewish, it could be Christian. That’s not the point. The point is freedom.”

This article originally appeared on JTA.org.

The post A Jerusalem cafe became a symbol of secular defiance — until Israelis learned it was run by Jews for Jesus appeared first on The Forward.

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