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The JTA conversation: Pogrom? Terrorism? What do we call what happened in Huwara?
(JTA) — On Sunday, after a Palestinian gunman shot and killed two Israeli brothers in the West Bank, Jewish settlers rioted in the nearby Palestinian town of Huwara, burning cars and buildings. A Palestinian was killed and dozens were injured.
Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu condemned the Jewish rioters for “taking the law in their own hands,” but many observers — including the top Israeli general in the West Bank and Abraham Foxman, director emeritus of the the Anti-Defamation League — used stronger language, calling the attacks a “pogrom.”
The use of the word, which most famously refers to a wave of anti-Jewish violence in the Russian empire beginning in the late 19th century, in turn became the subject of debate. Does using “pogrom” co-opt Jewish history unfairly and inaccurately by suggesting Jews are no better than their historical persecutors? Does avoiding the term mean Israel and its supporters are not taking sufficient responsibility for the actions of its Jewish citizens?
The debate is not just about language, but about controlling the narrative. Political speech can minimize or exaggerate events, put them in their proper context or distort them in ways that, per George Orwell, can “corrupt thought.”
We asked historians, linguists and activists to consider the word pogrom, and asked them what politicians, journalists and everyday people should call what happened at Huwara. Their responses are below.
Sidestepping the real issue
Dr. Jeffrey Shandler
Distinguished Professor, Department of Jewish Studies, Rutgers University
The meanings of the word “pogrom” in different languages are key here. In Russian, it means a massacre or raid, as it does in Yiddish; in neither language is it understood as specifically about violence against Jews. The Oxford English Dictionary concurs that pogrom means an “organized massacre… of any body or class,” but notes that, in the English-language press, it was first used mostly to refer to anti-Jewish attacks in Russia, citing examples from 1905-1906.
Therefore, though the association of pogrom with violence targeting Jews is widely familiar, its meaning is broader.
That said, because of English speakers’ widely familiar association of the term with Jews as victims, to use pogrom to describe violence perpetrated by Jews is provocative. As to whether it is appropriate to refer to recent attacks by Jewish settlers on Palestinians, it seems to me that this question sidesteps the more important question of whether the actions being called pogroms are appropriate.
Call it what it is: “settler terrorism”
Sara Yael Hirschhorn
’22-’23 Research Fellow at the Center for Antisemitism Research at the ADL, and author, “City on a Hilltop: American Jews and the Israeli Settler Movement”
Let me say first with a loud and clear conscience: What happened in Huwara was abhorrent, immoral, and unconscionable and certainly was not committed in my name.
But to paraphrase Raymond Carver’s famous formulation: How do we talk about it when we talk about Huwara? What kind of descriptive and analytical framework can adequately and contextually interpret that horrific event?
The shorthand of choice seems to be “pogrom” — but it isn’t clear that all who deploy the term are signifying the same thing. For some, pogrom is a synonym for pillage, rampage, fire, property damage and violence in the streets — a one-word general summary of brutal acts. For others, pogrom refers to vigilante justice, an abbreviated story of the non-state or non-institutional actors and their motivations.
More specifically, however, pogrom is seemingly being mobilized as a metaphor to Jewish history, juxtaposing the Jewish victims of yesterday to the Jewish-Israeli perpetrators of today, an implicit analogy to the prelude to the Shoah, recasting Zionists as organized bands of genocidaires (with or without regime sponsorship) like the Cossacks, the Nationalist Fronts or even the Einsatzgruppen. Some would use the word to incorporate all three meanings (and more).
As a historian, I am troubled by the haphazard and harmful use of terms that are attached to a specific time and place — such as the thousand-year history of Jews in the Rhinelands and Eastern Europe, with many layers of imperial, national, local, economic and religious forces that precipitated these events — in such an ahistorical manner. Nor do I find the parallels between Zionists and Nazis to be historically careful (if deliberately offensive) — the State of Israel is committing crimes in the West Bank, but not a genocide. The equivalence also all too easily and incorrectly grafts tropes of racism and white supremacy drawn from American history into the West Bank’s soil.
So what to say about Huwara? Israel — for reasons both political and lexiconographical — has failed to consistently adopt a term for such attacks. (Often the euphemism of “errant weeds” who are “taking matters into their own hands” is the choice of Knesset politicians.) To my mind, the best term is “settler terrorism,” which puts Jewish-Israeli acts on par with Palestinian terrorism. It should also mean that these actions merit the same consequences under the occupation like trial, imprisonment, home demolition and other deterrents enforced against all those who choose the path of violence.
Last but not least, a pogrom was historically an unpunished crime against humanity that led only to war and annihilation. Don’t we aspire for more in Israel/Palestine?
Palestinians call it “ethnic cleansing”
Ibrahim Eid Dalalsha
Director, Horizon Center for Political Studies and Media Outreach, Ramallah, and member of Israel Policy Forum’s Critical Neighbors task force
Palestinians generally view and describe what happened during Sunday’s Huwara attacks as “racist hate crimes seeking to destroy and dispossess the Palestinian people of their homes and properties.” While no specific term has been used to describe these attacks, it was likened to the barbaric and savage invasion of Baghdad by Hulagu, the 13th-century Mongol commander.
Palestinian intellectuals tend to use “ethnic cleansing,” savage and barbaric ethnically motivated violence against innocent civilians, as another way of referring to these attacks. When such events include killing, Palestinian politicians and intellectuals tend to use the term massacre, or “majzara,” to underline the irrational and indiscriminate violence against defenseless civilians. I don’t think the term “pogrom” and its historic connotation are widely known to most people here. From a Palestinian perspective, using such terms, including “Holocaust,” is not considered a mistake. In fact, even using “Holocaust“ to describe violence against Palestinian civilians in and around 1948 was not considered a mistake until very recently when it caused such a saga for Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas in Germany.
View of cars burned by Jewish settlers during riots in Huwara, in the West Bank, near Nablus, Feb. 27, 2023. (Nasser Ishtayeh/Flash90)
In the name of historical accuracy
Rukhl Schaechter
Yiddish Editor, The Forward
The recent attacks by Israeli settlers on Palestinians in Huwara are abhorrent. I commend those in Israel calling them peulot teror, “actions of terror,” and I trust that the perpetrators will be brought to justice. But these riots were not pogroms.
The word pogrom refers to one of the many violent riots and subsequent massacres of Jews in Eastern Europe between the 17th and 20th centuries. These attacks were committed by local non-Jewish, often peasant populations. They were instigated by rabble-rousers like Bogdan Chmielnicki, who led a Cossack and peasant uprising against Polish rule in Ukraine in 1648 and ended up destroying hundreds of Jewish communities. According to eyewitnesses, the attackers also committed atrocities on pregnant women.
Note that the massacres of Jews carried out by the Nazis, and the murders of Armenians by the Turkish government at the turn of the 20th century — as horrific as they were — were never called pogroms because in both cases, there was a government behind it. In the name of historic accuracy, let’s continue to use the word pogrom solely for mob attacks on and massacres of Jews.
When the Poles banned “pogrom”
Samuel D. Kassow
Professor of History, Trinity College, Hartford, Connecticut
In Poland in the late 1930s, altercations between a Jew and a Pole sometimes ended with either the Jew or the Pole getting badly hurt or even killed. When the victim was a Pole, mobs of Poles rampaged through Jewish neighborhoods smashing windows, looting shops and often beating or even killing Jews. Poles often held Jews collectively responsible for the death of one of their own. This happened in Przytyk, Minsk-Mazowieck, Grodno and other places. Jews called these riots “pogroms,” which they were. But the Polish government banned use of the term in the press. After all, “pogrom” was a Russian word, and “pogroms” happened only in a place characterized by barbarism and ignorance. Since Poland was not Russia, and since Poles were eminently civilized, logically speaking, pogroms simply did not take place in Poland. What happened in these towns were to be called “excesses” (zajscia). But certainly not pogroms!
I take it that since we Jews are so civilized, we too are incapable of pogroms. So should we label what these settlers did “‘excesses”? Or perhaps we should take a deep breath and call them pogroms?
A Jewish, but not exclusive, history
Henry Abramson
Historian
The word “pogrom” is rooted in time and place, although the type of violence it describes is as old as human history. It is a Russian word, but it entered the English language in the late 19th century through the medium of Yiddish-speakers, outraged at the wave of antisemitic disturbances that surged under rule of the last tsar of the Russian Empire, Nicholas II. Russians themselves used a variety of words for the ugly phenomenon, with translations like “riot” or “persecution,” but the term “pogrom” proved the most evocative: the Slavic prefix “po” suggests a directed attack, and the root “grom” is the word for “thunder.” A pogrom, therefore, meant a focused point where a great deal of energy was dissipated in a single dramatic act of violence.
The focused point, in the context of that dark history, was the civilian Jewish population in the tiny shtetls that dotted the Pale of Settlement. In this regard the word could be used to encompass attacks on Jewish populations from as long ago as the year 38 in Alexandria, Egypt. It does not, however, have any specific designation to indicate that Jews are the victims.
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They survived Oct. 7. At Rock Camp, they found a way to feel alive again.
(JTA) — ”They tried to kill us. We survived. Let’s eat.”
Alan King’s joke about Jewish holidays gets to the essence of Jewish persistence in the face of horror. He might have added “Let’s sing.” Music has accompanied the Jewish people for millennia through periods of joy and sorrow. Moses and the Israelites praised God for His salvation from the Egyptians in the “Song of the Sea.” Weddings, the Shabbat table and kumsitzes all come with joyous soundtracks.
In times of overwhelming devastation, songs have served as expressions of survival, determination and memory. During the Holocaust, Jews continued to compose and perform it in ghettos and concentration camps, including Theresienstadt. ”The Partisan Hymn,” “Zog nit keyn mol” (“Never Say”), was composed in the Vilna Ghetto.
Three years ago this week, music and tragedy once again intertwined when Hamas-led terrorists attacked the Nova Music Festival as part of the Oct. 7 assault on Israel. Approximately 1,200 people, including 364 civilians at the Nova festival, were killed that day, and 251 were abducted to Gaza.
Two months later, David Fishof, who founded Rock ’n Roll Fantasy Camp, saw music and trauma bound together at the funeral for Yotam Haim, the red-headed hostage who escaped with two others but was killed by friendly fire.
“Yotam’s brother, Tuval, and father, Raviv, are drummers,” said Fishof, an L.A. sports agent and entertainment producer. “They performed a 20-minute drum solo in Yotam’s honor, after which Tuval threw the sticks in the grave. At that moment, it hit me: I wanted to bring Tuval and nine other Oct. 7 survivors to Rock Camp in L.A.”
With the help of Sam Grundwerg, former world chairman of Keren Hayesod – United Israel Appeal, the 10 survivors were flown to Los Angeles in March 2024 to participate in the sold-out camp.
Now, their experience is chronicled in “The Bridge,” a new documentary produced by “Friends” executive producer Kevin Bright that highlights how music can become a pathway from trauma to healing. Its message: “When tragedy strikes the Jewish people, we play louder.” Ahead of a wider theatrical release in November, the film is now playing at select North American venues.
Rock Camp, founded by Fishof in 1997, brings amateur rockers alongside music legends for four days of mentorship, rehearsals and performances at such iconic clubs as Whisky a Go Go and The Viper Room.
Music, memory and trauma informed Fishof’s upbringing. Music saved the life of his father, Mark, a survivor of Auschwitz and Buchenwald.
“My dad would sing to the Nazis, just to entertain them,” Fishof said. “They would say, ‘Sing this song,’ and he would. Music saved him. It was a way for him to take his mind off of what he was going through.”
His father served as a cantor in Hackensack, New Jersey, for 33 years.
Fishof said his memories of his father’s sufferings made Oct. 7 the worst day of his life.
By contrast, their four days at Rock Camp offered the Oct. 7 survivors a rare respite from their trauma and a chance to reconnect with the joy of making music. The Israelis jammed with rock legends Michael Anthony of Van Halen, Sebastian Bach of Skid Row, Warren DeMartini of Ratt and Tommy Aldridge of Whitesnake, and met Richard Fortus and Slash of Guns N’ Roses.
Among the Israeli rockers was 27-year-old vocalist and guitarist Raz Shifer of Ramat Gan, a Nova Festival survivor who was close friends with two hostages, including Inbar Hayman, who was murdered in captivity.
After that Black Saturday, Shifer says in the film, “I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I just sat on my couch, literally in shock, trying to figure out what the f— had happened. I forgot who I was — the happy, smiley, energetic Raz. Rock Camp was my first time getting back on stage and letting it all out. For me, it was a really big step. I was able to remember myself again. Music is my victory. It’s the reason I get out of bed every day and the power that keeps me alive.”
Also among the group was 28-year-old vocalist and guitarist Bar Rudaeff of Tel Aviv, the son of Kibbutz Nir Yitzhak’s former deputy security coordinator Lior Rudaeff, who was murdered while defending the kibbutz on Oct. 7. His remains were returned to Israel in November 2025.
For Rudaeff, performing with Tommy Aldridge, the legendary hard rock and heavy metal drummer who played with Ozzy Osbourne and Whitesnake, was a way of reaching his father — through a joy they shared.
“My dad really liked ’80s rock, like Deep Purple, Bon Jovi, Foreigner and Ozzy Osbourne, so when we played with Tommy, it was really meaningful and emotional,” he says in “The Bridge.” “Rock Camp gave me the opportunity to stop thinking, for a little while, about my dad not being here. Music really helped me cope and pulled out a lot of feelings that I was repressing. It was a ray of hope in the middle of one of our darkest periods and gave me the strength to move on.”
At Rock Camp, Fishof said, “Each survivor played on behalf of loved ones — whether family members or friends who had been killed or were still being held in captivity. Every note meant something to them.”
Bright added, “Music enabled them to take a break from Oct. 7 for a week. I think it was a well-deserved respite from everything that was going on in Israel at the time. One of the survivors says in the film, ‘I’m still living Oct. 7. The trauma doesn’t go away.’ At the time that ‘The Bridge’ was made, their trauma was even stronger, and so their ability just to participate was really impressive.”
Three years after that devastating day in October, the survivors are continuing to do what their people have done in the face of adversity for millennia: sing and make music.
Tuval performs regularly and has released two albums, including “Ahim” (“Brothers”), a nod to Yotam. Bar now produces music, including a fellow camper’s upcoming album. And Raz is touring as a full-time vocalist.
“Music is what kept my father alive during the Holocaust,” said Fishof. “It’s what kept him going, and it’s what keeps me and many others going. Because no matter what happens, no one can ever take away our music. If we have that, we have life.”
They tried to kill us. We survived.
Let’s sing.
And eat.
To find local screenings, visit thebridgedoc.com
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post They survived Oct. 7. At Rock Camp, they found a way to feel alive again. appeared first on The Forward.
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The battle for Sderot still rages in the minds of its survivors
(JTA) — SDEROT, Israel – Shalom Aida was at home when the first air raid siren sounded at 6:29 a.m. on October 7, 2023, but he wasn’t initially fazed.
Rocket sirens were a common occurrence in his city of Sderot, which is less than a mile from Gaza at its closest point.
It wasn’t until he heard gunshots that Aida, a retired police officer, realized that dozens of heavily armed Hamas terrorists had infiltrated Sderot and were gunning down any civilian, soldier or police officer they came across.
By the time he arrived at the police station “it was a battlefield,” he said. The sight almost paralyzed him.
“The entire street in front of the station was full of bloodied people. Police, civilians, dead or dying. Hamas kept firing.”
One of the police officers killed that day was Aida’s cousin. Many others were his friends.
Three years later, he is still haunted by the memories.
“Sderot seems quiet now, but it’s not quiet or peaceful inside our heads,” he said as he watched groups of visitors walk around the Sderot Memorial and Heroes Park. It is situated at the site of the police station, which was destroyed on that day and built elsewhere.
Despite the ongoing trauma of Oct. 7 and its aftermath, Aida said he wouldn’t dream of moving elsewhere.
“I never once thought about leaving,” he said, shocked by the question. “The best people in the world live in Sderot.”
Not all residents of the “Gaza Envelope” who experienced the horrors of Oct. 7 returned home when the government gave the all-clear, after ordering them to evacuate for their own safety. But the vast majority of Sderot’s residents — set at over 37,000 by the Central Bureau of Statistics in 2024 — who had already lived through two decades of rocket barrages from Gaza, returned to the city within months.
Once it was a struggling development town where successive governments sent immigrants who had just arrived from the Middle East and the former Soviet Union.
It generated domestic and international headlines over the last two decades, as it became the first city hit by Hamas rockets as early as 2001, and remained one of the places the Gaza-based terror group has most frequently targeted.
International dignitaries including U.N. Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon in 2009 and then Sen. Barack Obama during his 2008 presidential campaign visited Sderot.
Initially a city without adequate protective shelter for its residents, it became the only place in Israel where every single apartment and bus stop has its own bomb shelter.
Despite it all, the city has prospered: gleaming new apartment buildings, parks and a sprawling mall greet visitors as they enter.
“If you were to input all the data about Sderot into OpenAI, the 25 years of rockets and Oct. 7 and the bomb shelters, it would say this must be a ghost town. But that’s not the reality here,” said Ilan Abecassis, a retired educator and now tour guide who has lived in the city all his life.
Rather than shrinking, he said, the city’s population has grown by about 5,000 people since the Oct. 7 attack.
“I know it’s counterintuitive, but the more they try to destroy us, the stronger we become,” Abecassis said. “In the Torah, a new pharaoh sees the Israelite population growing and enslaves them. But the Torah tells us ‘the more they afflicted them, the more they multiplied and grew.’ We are like those Israelites.”
Arie Yagudaev, 30, from Sderot, and his cousin Eitan Izayev, 28, who lives in nearby Kibbutz Nir Am, said they are also committed to staying, even after they encountered terrorists in the street on Oct. 7.
Drinking strong coffee outside his family’s grocery store in Sderot, Izayev recounted how he had begged his cousin to pick him up from the kibbutz, which terrorists were trying to infiltrate, so he could help defend loved ones in Sderot. Along the way, they picked up two teenage girls, survivors of the Nova music festival.
“As we approached the roundabout into Sderot, we saw some pickup trucks ahead of us,” Izayev recalled. “We thought the men in the bed of the truck were IDF soldiers. But when the terrorists saw us, they shot at us nonstop.”
“One of the bullets shattered my car’s back window. It’s a miracle we survived,” Yagudaev said. Even though he suffered from PTSD every night as an evacuee in an Eilat hotel room, he said, “I wanted to go home.”
“It wasn’t just because the hotel room was cramped,” he said “Leaving Sderot and Israel is exactly what the terrorists want. We’re not going anywhere.”
One Sderot restaurant owner, who was born and raised in Sderot but moved to Kibbutz Nir Am several years ago, feels the same way.
“Not to return would be rewarding Hamas for its terrorism,” said the restaurant owner who requested anonymity because of his ongoing stints in the IDF reserves.
As it was, he and his wife and baby spent almost a year in a small Tel Aviv hotel room before returning to their kibbutz two years ago. It wasn’t an easy homecoming, he said. For one thing, IDF soldiers had lived in their empty house, and it needed major repairs. Returning to the area also triggered traumatic memories from the Hamas attack.
“For 22 hours I stood outside our house to protect my wife and newborn baby,” he recalled, sitting at a table in his restaurant. “Eventually we decided to flee in our car with just the clothes we could throw into a trash bag. We placed the baby under the seat of the car, hoping to protect him.”
Once the owner of three restaurants, he now owns only one. He needed to sell the two popular restaurants he owned at another kibbutz because he couldn’t operate them from Tel Aviv, and, back then, the Gaza border was an active war zone.
Although the Gaza border is much more secure due to the buffer zone the IDF maintains in Gaza, “it’s not quiet on the border,” he said. “We live one kilometer from Gaza. Every day we hear the choppers and the shooting.”
Still, he and his wife have no plans to leave.
“My parents live here, my grandparents live here,” he said. “On Oct. 7 I saw an apocalypse, bodies on the ground. I knew 100 people who were killed or kidnapped. The ground beneath us is soaked with their blood. I can’t leave.”
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post The battle for Sderot still rages in the minds of its survivors appeared first on The Forward.
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Maine Senate candidates spar over military aid to Israel
(JTA) — Troy Jackson, Maine’s Democratic nominee for the U.S. Senate, said he opposed “giving a blank check” to Israel at a debate on Tuesday, while also linking American military assistance to the killings of Palestinians.
“I didn’t want any more offensive weapons going to murder people in Palestine,” Jackson explained, in a rebuttal to his opponent, Republican incumbent Sen. Susan Collins.
The two candidates were participating in their first general election debate, aired on CBS13 and moderated by news anchor Gregg Lagerquist, without a live audience. Jackson, who holds a narrow lead over Collins, has rattled many members of the Jewish community in recent weeks, as he has intensified anti-Israel rhetoric and made controversial comments to Maine Jews.
A former state lawmaker and union advocate, Jackson secured the Democratic nomination at the end of July in a landslide victory. He won the nomination after the former Democratic nominee, staunch Israel critic Graham Platner, left the race amid a sexual assault allegation, which Platner denies.
Jackson had previously said little publicly about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, but during the contest to replace Platner, he accused Israel of committing genocide in Gaza and called for an end to U.S. military aid to Israel.
Collins, a five-term senator, has been a staunch supporter of Israel over the past three decades.
Asked by Lagerquist during a lightning round whether the U.S. should increase, decrease or keep military funding for Israel the same, Collins responded that “the current level is good,” adding that she is “a strong supporter.”
Jackson, meanwhile, argued that “it’s kind of unfair to ask that like this,” while also noting that he has the endorsement of J Street, the liberal pro-Israel organization.
After Jackson then declared that the U.S. should not be “giving a blank check” to Israel, Collins accused him of making comments that were “very different” from his past remarks. Jackson denied this claim, while arguing against the supply of more offensive weapons to “murder people.” Calling Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu “a war criminal,” he noted that “Senator Collins likes him.”
Jackson’s remarks came just a week after he apologized to members of the Jewish community for controversial comments he had made in a News Center Maine television interview.
During the interview, he had described the war in Gaza as “a genocide,” adding that “there are people here in Maine that don’t like to use that term only because, you know, they’re Jewish and, you know, what that means to them with the Holocaust.”
Although he did not retract his views on the conflict, he acknowledged that the word genocide “carries particular weight for many Jewish families given the Holocaust – the genocide of six million Jews.”
“In trying to acknowledge that, I misspoke and made a generalization about Jewish Mainers’ views that doesn’t reflect what I meant to say. I apologize for the pain that caused,” he added.
Just before the Democratic nominating convention this past summer, Jackson vowed that he would “never vote in favor of U.S. taxpayer-funded military aid to Israel.”
The Pine Tree State Poll, released by the University of New Hampshire two weeks ago, found that the two candidates were in a statistical tie, with 51% of voters polled favoring Jackson and 47% opting for Collins.
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
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