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In Ukraine, Hanukkah candles are a lifeline in the midst of power outages
(JTA) — In the days before Hanukkah, which starts Sunday night, a few men and women from two Conservative institutions in Israel will travel to the small Jewish community in Chernivtsi, Ukraine, with a supply of needed items.
Amid the power outages stemming from Russian attacks, the volunteers will have blankets and sweatshirts for the cold, as well as menorahs and kippahs for religious observance purposes.
The 300 boxes of Hanukkah candles will do double duty.
These days, the power in Chernivtsi, a city of around 250,000 (before the war) in western Ukraine, is more off than on. So the candles will do more than allude to the story of the Maccabees — they will help light Jewish homes across the city.
“This year it’s really important” to have and use Hanukkah candles, said Lev Kleiman, leader of the city’s Conservative Jewish community, in a recent Zoom interview.
Although the need is urgent, “We will hold onto the candles until Hanukkah,” Kleiman added, his words in Russian interpreted by Rabbi Irina Gritsevskaya, the Russian-born and Jerusalem-based “circuit rabbi” of the Conservative movement’s Schechter Institutes and executive director of its Midreshet Schechter Ukraine. The organizations are coordinating the transport of holiday supplies to Chernivtsi.
Among a few “couriers” bringing needed items to Jewish communities in Ukraine, Gritsevskaya has made several trips there over the last 10 months. At the start of the war, she urged Jews in other cities to make their way to Chernivtsi, which was far from the intense fighting on the eastern border.
Chernivtsi, which served as a place of refuge for thousands of displaced people from elsewhere in parts of the Soviet Union threatened by the Nazi army during World War II, is again attracting refugees from throughout the country. Earlier in the current war, Kleiman turned his synagogue into a refugee center for some of the millions of Ukrainians fleeing their homeland. The city also became a gathering site for worldwide faith leaders who have denounced the violence and expressed solidarity with the embattled Ukrainians.
In addition to no heat and light in Chernivtsi, lack of electricity means lack of TV and radio use, along with spotty internet service. (Erin Clark/The Boston Globe via Getty Images)
Located on the Prut River, Chernivtsi (known at one time as “Jerusalem upon the Prut” for the strength of its Jewish community) is 25 miles north of the Romanian border and home to one of the country’s most active Conservative communities. The city’s Jewish population before the war began was estimated at 2,000, including many Holocaust survivors.
And today, following the invasion? The number could be larger or smaller, no one is counting — but some western cities have experienced population growth due to all of the migration.
“No one knows,” Kleiman said. “Many left, but many came.”
As in other Ukrainian cities, many Jews in Chernivtsi — especially women, senior citizens and children, everyone except draft-age males — have migrated. But uncounted other ones have come to a place of relative safety, either renting apartments or staying in ones under the auspices of the Jewish community. Most of the Jews in Chernivtsi now are those exempt from military service, Kleiman said. Others stayed in order to be with their husbands and fathers who joined the Ukrainian army after the war began, or to care for their aged parents.
Despite signs of war — rifle-carrying soldiers and policemen on the streets, empty shelves in stores because of shortages, people hurrying to safety when they hear sirens — Jewish life there has continued, according to Kleiman. The most active organizations in the city are the local outpost of the Hasidic Chabad-Lubavitch movement, the JDC-supported Hesed Shoshana Welfare Center and Kleiman’s Kehillat Aviv Synagogue (his official title is coordinator), which sponsors daily Jewish activities.
The synagogue — located near the Chabad center, with which it cooperates on relief activities — is housed in a small, two-story building that contains an office, a kitchen and a large multi-function hall. Kleiman says Hanukkah in 2022 will be more important than in past years because in addition to its ability to bring people together,the holiday also asserts Jewish survival.
“There are a lot of parallels,” Kleiman said of the holiday and his community’s current situation.
Electricity in Chernivtsi flows only a few hours each day, and at night, no street lights are on, thanks to incessant Russian bombing of Ukraine’s infrastructure, and to government-imposed restrictions designed to conserve the little available resources.
A holiday of lights sans lights? “We’ve never done it before,” Kleiman said, adding that the Jews in his city understand the holiday’s symbolism.
Some will come to the synagogue for a communal candle-lighting, according to Kleiman. Others will light their candles at home, in their windows. Like all other buildings in Chernivtsi, Kleiman’s office and apartment are subject to periodic electricity blackouts, often announced in advance.
“With G-d’s help we will soon have a generator” – and 24/7 lights and heat in the synagogue, he said. Until then, he and the other residents of Chernivtsi will shiver. The temperature in the city was 29 degrees Fahrenheit during the Zoom interview, and a light snow was falling.
Lev Kleiman is shown with his community’s Torah ark. (Courtesy of the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies)
Though no Russian missiles have fallen inside Chernivtsi itself, some have reached the outskirts, causing damage to the area’s infrastructure and utilities. Other parts of the country have not escaped the Russian onslaught; two months ago more than 4,000 Ukrainian towns, villages and cities had experienced outages, and 40% of the country’s grid was crippled. The bombing of power stations is a major part of Vladimir Putin’s plan to weaponize Ukraine’s weather to bully the country into submission as winter sets in. (In addition to candles and other supplies, some Jewish groups are sending generators and heaters.)
Home in past years to such prominent Jews as actress Mila Kunis, the late Israeli writer Aharon Appelfeld, former Knesset speaker Yuli Edelstein and the late poet-translator Paul Celan (born Paul Antschel), Chernivtsi has an honored place in the country’s history. On the eve of World War II, some 45,000 Jews lived in the city, about a third of the country’s total Jewish population. The collaborationist Romanian authorities, who ruled the area, established a ghetto in Chernivtsi where 32,000 Jews, including many from the surrounding region, were interned; from there, they were shipped to concentration camps in the nearby Transnistria area, where 60% died.
A third of the city’s Jews survived the war. The population grew to about 17,000 when widespread migration from the USSR began in the late 1980s. Like many cities in the former Soviet Union, Chernivtsi has experienced a modest Jewish revival since Communism fell and open expression of Judaism was allowed again. The revival was spurred largely by the arrival of Chabad emissary couples and programs sponsored by the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee.
But though Chabad, an Orthodox movement, is the prime Jewish mover in Ukraine, there is also a growing non-Orthodox presence in the country. The Israeli branch of the Conservative movement sent its first full-time representatives to Ukraine a decade ago. The movement’s Jerusalem-based Masorti Olami organization sponsors a network of synagogues, schools, camps, youth groups and kosher certification services across Ukraine. A few decades ago, Kleiman attended the Midreshet Yerushalayim day school in Chernivtsi and Camp Ramah Ukraine.
In addition, the Reform movement’s World Union for Progressive Judaism has established 10 congregations in the country; the movement estimates that 14,000 Ukrainian Jews identify as members.
Even though the need is urgent, Kleiman said his community will wait to use the candles until the start of Hanukkah. (Courtesy of the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies)
These are boring days in southwest Ukraine. TV and radio are only available when electricity is available, and internet and cellphone service is always spotty. Kleiman calls the war a test of the people’s mettle, a spur to their growing national unity. As a form of solidarity, many have switched the language of their conversations from Russian — the lingua franca during the Soviet days — to Ukrainian.
Nobody in Chernivtsi’s Jewish community is starving, Kleiman said. Kosher food is available at the synagogue, and volunteers bring supplies to people unable to travel. Overall, the morale of the Jewish community is good, he says. Native-born members of the community “support each other,” while some people from other parts of the country, separated from their families, with fewer personal connections, are depressed, he said.
In the boxes of materials that Rabbi Gritsevskaya is to bring to Chernivtsi from Israel are also some Israeli-style dreidels, whose Hebrew letters stand for the words “Nes gadol haya po”: “A great miracle happened here.” On dreidels used in the Diaspora, the last word usually is sham, “there.”
The linguistic symbolism in a land under siege is clear, said Kleiman, who plans to explain the message to the members of the community taking home a dreidel.
“I understand — they will understand too,” he says. “I hope the miracle will also happen in Ukraine.”
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The post In Ukraine, Hanukkah candles are a lifeline in the midst of power outages appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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Cornell University Professor Retires to Avoid Suspension After Excluding Israeli From Class on Gaza
Cornell University, May 25, 2024. Photo: USA TODAY Network via Reuters Connect
A Cornell University professor who according to the school violated federal anti-discrimination law when he expelled an Israeli student from class has reached an agreement with the administration which would allow him to retire and avoid serving a two-semester suspension he received as punishment for the incident.
During the spring semester earlier this year, Professor Eric Cheyfitz, an English literature and American Studies instructor, allegedly determined that the contributions of an Israeli student, Oren Renard, to a course on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict titled “Gaza, Indigeneity, Resistance” were “disruptive” and asked him to leave his class. Following the incident, Renard reported Cheyfitz for discrimination, triggering disciplinary charges and a dispute which drew in the faculty, national media, and the American Association of University Professors (AAUP).
Cornell had already canceled Cheyfitz’s courses in September in response to the matter and pressed the case for further disciplining him even after his colleagues in the faculty senate, an overwhelmingly left-wing and anti-Zionist body, voted to acquit him of the charge. However, Cheyfitz, who participated in anti-Israel encampments the previous year and has been criticized for propagating content which is “radical, factually inaccurate, and biased,” has refused to be corrected, citing academic freedom as justification for his actions.
Having reached an impasse, the two parties chose to part ways, ending Cheyfitz’s two-decade tenure.
“The Cornell Office of Civil Rights issued a finding of discrimination committed by Professor Cheyfitz,” the university told The Algemeiner in a statement shared on Thursday. “Professor Cheyfitz has chosen to retire and leave university employment, thus ending Cornell’s disciplinary process. The finding that Professor Cheyfitz violated Cornell policy and federal law remains in place.”
Anti-Zionists at Cornell University have attracted negative headlines and attention to the school before, as previously reported by The Algemeiner.
In October 2023, days after Hamas-led Palestinian terrorists abducted, raped, and murdered Israelis during a massacre which claimed 1,200 lives, history instructor Russell Rickford hailed the atrocities as “exhilarating” and “energizing” during a rally held on campus. Rickford later apologized for the comments while arguing that he “intended to stress grassroots African American, Jewish, and Palestinian traditions of resistance to oppression.” He addressed the expression of regret to “my family, my students, my colleagues, and many others,” but not to the Jewish community or Israelis — the chief targets of Hamas’s terror onslaught.
Not a month later, now-former student Patrick Dai threatened to perpetrate heinous crimes against members of the school’s Jewish community, including mass murder and rape, in a series of social media posts. In addition to threatening to harm individuals, Dai threatened to attack a kosher dining hall on campus — 104West, which is affiliated with the Steven K. And Winifred A. Grinspoon Hillel Center.
“Gonna shoot up 104 west… Allahu akbar! from the river to the sea, palestine will be free! glory to hamas! liberation by any means necessary!” one of his posts said. Another read, “If I see a pig male jew i will stab you and slit your throat. if i see another pig female jew i will drag you away and rape you and throw you off a cliff. if i see another pig baby jew i will behead you in front of your parents [sic].”
Dai has since been sentenced to 21 months in federal prison.
US college campuses saw an alarming spike in antisemitic incidents — including demonstrations calling for Israel’s destruction and the intimidation and harassment of Jewish students — after the Hamas terrorist group’s Oct. 7, 2023, attacks on Israel. In a two-month span following the atrocities, the Anti-Defamation League (ADL) recorded 470 antisemitic incidents on college campuses alone. During that same period, antisemitic incidents across the US skyrocketed by 323 percent compared to the prior year.
To this day, Jewish students report feeling unsafe on the campus. According to a new survey conducted by the Anti-Defamation League (ADL) and the World Union of Jewish Students (WUJS), the vast majority of Jewish students around the world resort to hiding their Jewishness and support for Israel on university campuses to avoid becoming victims of antisemitism.
A striking 78 percent of Jewish students have opted to “conceal” their religious affiliation “at least once” over the past year, the study found, with Jewish women being more likely than men to do so. Meanwhile, 81 percent of those surveyed hid their support for Zionism, a movement which promotes Jewish self-determination and the existence of the State of Israel, at least once over the past year.
Among all students, Orthodox Jews reported the highest rates of “different treatment,” with 41 percent saying that their peers employ alternative social norms in dealing with them.
“This survey exposes a devastating reality: Jewish students across the globe are being forced to hide fundamental aspects of their identity just to feel safe on campus,” ADL senior vice president of international affairs Marina Rosenberg said in a statement. “When over three-quarters of Jewish students feel they must conceal their religious and Zionist identity for their own safety, the situation is nothing short of dire. As the academic year begins, the data provides essential insights to guide university leadership in addressing this campus crisis head on.”
Follow Dion J. Pierre @DionJPierre.
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A time to sob, and to dance: Why does the joy of the hostage release feel so painful?
For 737 days, the people of Israel — and Jews around the world — hoped and prayed for the moments of bliss we witnessed on Monday, as the last living hostages returned from Gaza and reunited with their families and their nation.
For just over two years, many of us found that the joys of life could not feel whole. On holidays, at weddings and on vacations, there was an aching sense that until the hostages returned, it would be impossible to experience pure, unfiltered happiness.
Yet now that this long-awaited moment is here, our joy is tinged with sadness.
We feel that sadness because we know that it will take years for the hostages to recover from the unfathomable cruelty they endured in Gaza, and because perhaps they could have come home sooner. We feel it because 42 of the 251 hostages taken by Hamas on Oct. 7, 2023, were killed in captivity. Hamas has so far failed to return the remains of many of those hostages, robbing their families of the closure they so desperately need.
Our joy is mixed with profound sadness because we lost two years to a war that should never have started — a war that was launched in the name of resistance and liberation, yet has ended with the total destruction of Gaza. That was precisely what Hamas wanted: to commit such a horrific massacre that Israel would react with unprecedented force, resulting in global condemnation and Israel’s isolation.
Our joy this week is also tainted by anger, because Hamas’s Oct. 7 onslaught was entirely preventable, as many Israeli investigations have made painfully clear. We feel that anger because Hamas is still in control of Gaza. We know that true peace is nowhere near.
There is also an overwhelming sense that all this devastation could have been avoided, had Israel heeded ample warnings of plans for an invasion by terrorists from Gaza — who had made clear for years their desire to annihilate Israel — and made serious military plans to combat it.
These joyous days are mixed with sorrow for these reasons, and so many more. We are still grieving the nearly 1,200 lives that were so violently extinguished by Hamas’s massacre. And we grieve, also, for the countless others whose lives were forever changed by the horrors of that day — those who were wounded, lost their lives during the war in Gaza, and lost loved ones and beloved communities.
We are still mourning an Israel that will never again be the Israel it was: a place where Jewish families did not fear being hunted down and slaughtered in their homes. And we are mourning a world that is not what we thought it was.
For many in the diaspora who feel close to Israel, everything changed after Oct. 7. We lost friendships, and sometimes entire communities. We felt betrayed by professions that once gave us a sense of belonging.
We will not forget the protests against Israel that erupted on city streets and college campuses on Oct. 8, 2023, when dead bodies still littered the streets of southern Israel. Nor will we forget the many people who praised Hamas’s massacre as noble resistance.
We will always carry with us the memory of posters bearing hostages’ faces being torn down in American and European cities by people who described them as “Zionist propaganda” or worse. We will never forget the images of the atrocities those activists denied or justified.
As an independent journalist who reported from Israel for dozens of American newspapers and magazines for more than a decade, I have felt betrayed by the profession I belonged to until 2023.
This week I have watched — no longer in shock, but in despair — as many news organizations drew a false equivalence between Hamas’s release of 20 hostages and Israel’s release of nearly 2,000 Palestinian security prisoners, including 250 who were serving life sentences. The BBC, for example, ran an emotional segment featuring the sister of a released Palestinian prisoner, weeping because he will be deported rather than return home; the segment fails to mention that her brother was convicted in connection to a suicide bombing that killed four people. Then there are the Al Jazeera English stories describing Palestinian prisoners as “captives.”
And it’s not just the hostage release. CNN’s Christiane Amanpour was made to apologize after saying on-air that the Israeli hostages in Gaza were “probably being treated better than the average Gazan” during the war.
Even as this war comes to an end, we are seeing the same distortions of truth that have characterized public conversations about this war from the very beginning. Their persistence suggests the relief we hoped to feel at this point remains far off.
Too many institutions I once held in esteem have fallen prey to those distortions. There’s the literary world, which has broadly censored Jewish authors and boycotted Israeli cultural institutions; women’s rights organizations, such as U.N. Women, which took months to condemn Hamas’s use of sexual violence on Oct. 7, or the others that never did; the medical field, which has seen an alarming rise in antisemitism; and universities, where the surge in antisemitism has been fueled by some professors who seem to have deliberately indoctrinated students into believing that Israel’s very existence is a crime.
Yet one of the most vital lessons from this chapter in our people’s history is that we cannot allow the hatred of our enemies to define us, or to shake our conviction in what we know to be true.
As the awe-inspiring Rachel Goldberg-Polin, mother of the murdered hostage Hersh Goldberg-Polin, so aptly explained at a rally in Jerusalem two nights before the living hostages returned: “There is a time to sob, and there is a time to dance, and we have to do both right now.”
Sob and dance we will. Perhaps for years to come.
The post A time to sob, and to dance: Why does the joy of the hostage release feel so painful? appeared first on The Forward.
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Think the left is politically violent? Young Republicans have a wake-up call for you
“I love Hitler,” one individual wrote, in leaked texts from a Young Republicans group chat that Politico reported on earlier this week. Over the course of several months earlier this year, the chat’s participants talked about sending those who worked against them in their quest for political power to gas chambers. One person, referring to a Jewish colleague, wrote that a fellow texter was giving “the Jew” too much credit.
Condemnation came quickly — but not from the White House.
While some members of the chat were fired by their Republican bosses, and others found their chapters of the Young Republicans disbanded, the reaction from the top was defensive. Vice President JD Vance downplayed the texts by comparing them to violent texts sent in 2022 by Jay Jones, who is running to be Virginia’s attorney general. “This is far worse than anything said in a college group chat, and the guy who said it could become the AG of Virginia,” Vance posted on X.
But in attempting to deflect attention from the violent fantasies of GOP youth, Vance actually highlighted why they’re so concerning. If our collective understanding of whose urges toward political violence matter most hinges on the question of who has power, we should be more concerned by those urges on the right.
Yes, even when they’re expressed in a “college group chat” with limited practical influence. Because when we look at who actually has power in this country, we can see quite clearly that it’s the reactionary right. The chat is yet more evidence of the ways in which that political sector has normalized and elevated violent, extremist hatred, including antisemitism — and why we should see that normalization as a pressing problem.
The Republicans in power in the White House and Congress, and their powerful allies in conservative media, have succeeded in making the idea of the politically violent left seem like the primary threat. If one consumes certain media, one gets the impression that cities are being destroyed by violent leftists, and that the greatest threat to American Jews today is the left.
But the truth — although President Donald Trump’s administration pulled down the government web page that laid out the data — is that the right is the most common source of political violence in this country. And, unlike the left, it is so with the backing of the most powerful people in the country.
Consider the fallout from the murder of the prominent young conservative activist Charlie Kirk.
Trump officials and various figures across the right jumped to blame the murder on leftist political violence, long before a suspect was publicly identified. They blamed their political enemies for the killing and vowed to crush them, going so far as pushing to get people fired for not having the response to Kirk’s death that they deemed appropriate. (More than 145 people did in fact lose their jobs).
In other words, the right cast political violence as something that should automatically be perceived as a leftwing problem — one that could be solved by some of the most powerful people vilifying the everyday people who disagreed with them, including nurses, restaurant managers and professors, while leaving calls for reactionary violence against the left unchecked.
This was not calls for violence and punishment ping ponging back and forth from side to side. It was those with power blaming and seeking to punish those with whom they disagreed.
Perhaps some do not consider members of the Young Republicans to have power just yet. But surely all can agree that the Pentagon official pushing a conspiracy about Leo Frank, and the various White House officials with ties to antisemitic extremists — to take just a few examples — do. The Young Republicans in this chat are training to be the next generation of people in these roles. They are following the example that’s been set for them, and working to stitch it more firmly in the fabric of the right.
Seeing this clearly is especially pertinent for American Jews in grappling with antisemitism today.
This is not to say that there isn’t antisemitism on the left as well as the right. Of course there is. I have no doubt that some readers of this piece will be thinking of the images of college protesters against the war in Gaza, some of whom did indeed cross over into antisemitism. There have been significant cases in which antisemitism from those on the left has led to vandalism and even, tragically, violence.
But those college protesters, the vast majority of whom were peaceful, do not have any real power.
It may feel like they do, particularly for students who feel lost or excluded in the campus political climate. But real power on campus is held by the board of trustees. It is held by the people who have too often, recently, decided to compromise academic freedom in order to try to placate Congress and the administration over weaponized charges of student antisemitism.
Congress and the president have still more power. And they, as Vance’s dismissal of the hatred from the group chat signifies, are comfortable normalizing hatred when it comes from within their own ranks.
I sympathize with young people navigating their feelings about Jewish identity and Zionism who have felt ostracized or demonized by their peers. But their peers cannot arrest, detain and threaten to deport them. Those who hold real power can and do, and are doing so ostensibly to fight antisemitism — just ask Mahmoud Khalil.
And yet, at the same time, the FBI is being helmed by someone who has repeatedly appeared on a podcast hosted by a prominent Holocaust denier.
It may be that many of us are more likely, in our everyday lives, to encounter someone who is leftwing and blurs the line between anti-Zionism and antisemitism. But that we are more likely to encounter this kind of antisemitism more often in a social context does not change the basic math. The right in this country, which holds power in the White House, Congress and the Supreme Court, is made up of individuals who have shown themselves to be at best disinterested in ridding their movement of calls for discriminatory political violence. And they are the ones whose decisions have the ability to actually affect the essential conditions of our lives.
And so, in this one extremely limited way, we should listen to Vance. We should look at who has actual power, and think critically about the ways in which they have advanced — or facilitated the advance of — racist, extremist, xenophobic and, yes, antisemitic political rhetoric. Because when we do that, we can see that there is no equivalence. It is those who have power — real power — who are making ours a more politically violent country.
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