Uncategorized
The mysterious disappearance of Yemenite children in Israel is the focus of a new play
(New York Jewish Week) — Shortly after the State of Israel was founded, Shanit Keter-Schwartz was born on a dirt floor, in a hut made of aluminum siding outside the burgeoning town of Tel Aviv. She was the second of six children, the daughter of Yemenite Jews who had recently immigrated to the new country. They’d faced discrimination and violence in their country of origin, so when Jewish emissaries turned up in 1949 to bring 50,000 Yemenite Jews to Israel as a part of “Operation Flying Carpet,” they were all in.
Unfortunately, Keter-Schwartz’s upbringing in Israel was no magic carpet ride. “[Yemenite Jews] were seen as savages, primitive, inferior in the eyes of the Ashkenazi Jews,” Keter-Schwartz recalled in an interview with the New York Jewish Week. “They were not sophisticated or educated. It was a cultural domination, a collective trauma in Israel. They faced war, hunger, poverty, and living in very harsh conditions.”
The worst, though, wasn’t near-starvation due to rationing, or the harsh conditions of the shanty towns that these new immigrants were placed in, or the way European children wrinkled their nose at her and called her smelly. No, the worst was when the government stole her sister, Sarah, whom Keter-Schwartz never saw again.
In what has become known as the Yemenite Children Affair, more than 1,000 children of Yemenite, Mizrahi and Balkan descent were separated from their children during the first decade of Israel’s existence. The families and their advocates have long insisted, over denials by officials, that the children were taken from their families by the Ashkenazi government during the first decade of Israel’s existence. More often than not, parents were told their children had died when they had, in fact, been given to families of European descent for adoption, according to Amram Association, one of several organizations dedicated to documenting these abductions and advocating for victims’ families.
Now, Keter-Schwartz — a writer and performer who lives in Los Angeles, and a mother to two grown daughters — has brought to life her family’s story and her search for her missing sister in the form of a one-woman show. Premiering on Thursday at New York City Center, and running through May 15, “Daughter of the Wicked” chronicles her family’s journey from the Yemenite ma’abarot (refugee camps) to shikunim (government housing projects), where they lived in a tiny two-room apartment amid a melting pot of Jewish immigrants who were often at odds with one another.
“It is overcrowded, and the people who live here come from many different places. In their countries they were… respected by their communities,” she says in the show, which is named after one of the many Yemenite curses her mother would hurl at her when she’d done something wrong. “But here [in Israel] they are forced into stereotypes.”
“Israel had no choice but to bring the Jews from the Arab countries because the European Jews population had been greatly diminished after the Holocaust, but they didn’t want us,” Keter-Schwartz told the New York Jewish Week. “They took control of our lives, tried to assimilate us, wanted the whole country to be secular and uniform. They made all the decisions for us.”
One such “decision” made by the government, she said, was to remove her oldest brother, Yossi, from the family home to “re-educate” him at an Ashkenazi kibbutz. It worked: Yossi returned as a proud secular farmer, disdainful and ashamed of his spiritualist, religious family and their traditional ways.
The disappearance of her baby sister, Sarah, inspired Keter-Schwartz’s play, which is also informed by the kabbalistic teachings of her father. (Russ Rowland)
In the case of Keter-Schwartz’s sister, the abduction occurred directly after she was born. “When my father went to the hospital to pick up the twins, my siblings, he returned only with David. They told him that the girl, Sarah, was sick, and he should come back the following day. But when he came back, they told him that she had died,” Keter-Schwartz said. “Being naive, he didn’t question this. He didn’t ask to see a death certificate. He didn’t even know [a certificate] existed. He didn’t demand to see her body, didn’t think to bury her or give her funeral rites. He never suspected for a minute they could deceive him.”
This story, and others, is conveyed in “Daughter of the Wicked” through a series of monologues, each tied to an idea from Kabbalah,the Jewish mystical tradition. Keter-Schwartz defines each concept — like ahava (love), metsuka (hardship), busha (shame) — then tells a personal story that relates to the topic.
With this framework, Keter-Schwartz pays homage to her father, a spiritualist rabbi who spent his days poring over holy texts and divining the true meaning of the universe. She reads from his writings — which were collected and published towards the end of his life as a book, “Nachash HaNechoshet” — detailing her complex relationship to a man who was both an inspiration and, at times, inscrutable to all around him.
“The play is set in a hotel room, while I’m waiting for my sister to show up,” Keter-Schwartz explains. “As I wait, I tell my life. Behind me, on three screens, there’s archival footage from the 1950s that I got from Steven Spielberg’s archive. That footage tells the story, too, and so does the music.” The accompanying music, which transitions the audience from segment to segment, was written by Israeli composer Lilo Fedida, using traditional Yemenite melodies and instruments.
“We lived with this [tragedy] all my childhood, and I’ve been wondering all these years about my missing sister,” said Keter-Schwartz. “If I see her on the street, will I recognize her? Where does she live? Is she happy? I felt guilty that I never really tried to find her, I was so busy with my own life. But now I need to know.”
As a young woman, Keter-Schwartz said she went to great lengths to distance herself from her family’s tragedies. She lived in Amsterdam, London and New York, finally finding her footing in Los Angeles. She changed her name — from Shoshana to Shanit — and declared herself a new person in a new land. It was only when she lost all but one of her siblings, as well as both parents, that she felt an urge to revisit the past. When her last surviving sibling got so ill he almost died, she swore to search for Sarah. Initially, the idea was just to hire a private investigator to try to locate her. During her search, though, she began to feel an urge to share her story.
“I’d never written a play, so it took me two years [working] with coaches,” says Keter-Schwartz. “I’ve been an actress all my life, I’ve edited other people’s scripts, I produced movies, but to actually write — ha! I had amazing coaches. I’m especially grateful to Yigal Chatzor, the Israeli playwright. He brought the Israeli spice and the humor, which is wonderful now because now the play is balanced. It’s heart-wrenching and it’s hysterical. It’s everything, you know.”
The Yemenite Children Affair has never been formally confirmed by the state of Israel, which maintains the position that most of the babies died of malaria or malnutrition and were not, as some have proposed, sold to Ashkenazi families in exchange for donations to the young country. Several government-led commissions have claimed that there was no official wrongdoing, but testimonies continue to emerge that suggest otherwise. According to a 2016 article in Yediot Ahronot, a prominent Israeli news source, the government has sealed the official records of these disappearances until 2071, despite ongoing demonstrations and demands for actions.
In 2021, the Israeli government authorized tens of millions of dollars in reparations to families whose children disappeared while in government care. Nonetheless, no official admission of guilt or apology has been issued, a fact which caused many affected families to reject the plan, calling it “hush money.” Only a fraction of the affected families are eligible for these payments and, according to recent reporting, very few have claimed the money. Less than 1% of the allocated funds have been distributed thus far.
For Keter-Schwartz, no amount of money could compensate for the loss of her sister. She’s more interested in creating connections with others who lost family members and bringing awareness to this chapter in Israeli history. “Going back to my roots, revisiting the past, is an act of forgiveness,” Keter-Schwartz said in a statement. “By writing this play, I was able to forgive and accept the past. I hope that when audiences see my play they come to terms with their own history, and that they feel a sense of what it means to be free, and the challenges that confront us in maintaining that freedom.”
That is a major throughline of “Daughter of the Wicked”: Keter-Schwartz does not forsake the country that gave her her identity and childhood; rather, she insists on loving it while demanding recognition of past wrongs. Towards the end of her show, Keter Ashkenazi raises both arms to the sky and screams at those who wronged her: “My country! I blame you, shame on you for forsaking us, shame on you!”
But then, she lowers her arms and says, voice cracking with heartbreak: “I love you, I blame you, I love you. My country, I love you.”
—
The post The mysterious disappearance of Yemenite children in Israel is the focus of a new play appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Uncategorized
A 19-Year Name vs. 3,000 Years of History: Judea vs. ‘West Bank’
Read a story about Israel from almost any major news outlet and you’ll see the same convention: “West Bank,” stated as fact, and “Judea and Samaria” treated as controversial.
In fact, these outlets all treat “Judea and Samaria” as a label used by Israel, often with a caveat that it is “biblical,” “right wing” or even “far-right.”
One term is presented as neutral. The other arrives with a warning. That is not linguistic housekeeping. It is a political choice, often made in a conscious way that reshapes history.
“West Bank” is a directional term. It describes where the land sits relative to the Jordan River. It was coined in 1949 by the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan after its army crossed the river in 1948, seized the territory as part of the Arab League’s declared war to annihilate Israel, and later annexed it. East Bank, West Bank. It is a geographic label attached to a military and political act. Jordan’s 1950 annexation was recognized by only a handful of countries and never produced a Palestinian state.
“Judea and Samaria” are not modern inventions, and they are not merely “biblical” in the dismissive sense often implied.
They are the names by which this region was known across centuries of rule, from antiquity through successive empires. They appear in ancient records, persist through administrative usage, and reflect a continuous historical vocabulary.
Even the 1947 UN Partition Plan — the plan that proposed to create the first independent Arab state in the Holy Land — referred to this area as the “hill country of Samaria and Judea” in describing the territory proposed for this new Arab state.
One can debate the modern implications of that 3,000+ years of history. One cannot plausibly claim it is recent, or invented.
Yet for the media, a term born of a 19-year Jordanian occupation following an offensive war becomes the unmarked standard. A name used across millennia is treated as ideological.
That inversion is not limited to vocabulary. It reflects a broader pattern in how the Arab-Israeli conflict has been framed since at least 1947: history is compressed, revised, or ignored, and cause and effect are routinely severed.
Start with 1947. The UN proposed partition into a Jewish state and an Arab state. Jewish leadership accepted the plan despite its limits and the British creation in 1921 of the Arab Kingdom of Transjordan out of almost 80% of the territory originally allotted after 1917 for the British Mandate for Palestine.
The local Arab leadership rejected the 1947 UN Partition Plan and chose war. That decision matters. It explains why the map did not follow the proposal — and why there is no Arab state today.
Yet in much contemporary coverage, that sequence disappears. The rejection of what would have been an independent Arab state –- in close to 80% of the arable land west of the Jordan River — followed by a multi-state war aimed at destroying the nascent Jewish state — is flattened into a vague “conflict” with outcomes detached from their cause.
Move to 1948–1967. Jordan controlled what it called the “West Bank,” while Egypt controlled Gaza. No Palestinian state was created in either territory. There was no serious effort to create one. That absence is rarely emphasized, though it is central to claims about what the conflict has always been “about.”
Then there is June, 1967. Israel took control of Judea and Samaria, and Gaza, because its neighbors tried to wage a war to destroy it and kill or subjugate all its Jewish residents. However one evaluates the legal debates that followed, the sequence is not credibly in dispute. Yet retellings often begin later, presenting outcomes without any reference to the threats and actions that produced them.
None of this resolves the conflict. But it does something more basic. It restores sequence. It places events back in order and returns language to its context.
That context is what is lost when “West Bank” is treated as neutral, while “Judea and Samaria” is treated as suspect or extreme.
In other regions, imposed modern labels — often by conquerors — are distinguished from older ones. Here, that instinct disappears. The origin of the dominant term is rarely mentioned. Its recency is almost never acknowledged. A label from the mid-20th century is presented as if it were timeless. It is not.
The question is not which term must be used. It is whether the current asymmetry can be defended as neutral. A 19-year name replaced 3,000 years. The least we can do is acknowledge that before arguing about what it means.
Micha Danzig is an attorney, former IDF soldier, and former NYPD officer. He writes widely on Israel, Zionism, antisemitism, and Jewish history. He serves on the board of Herut North America.
Uncategorized
Words of rescue: Yermiyahu Ahron Taub’s new book of poetry
עס זײַנען דאָ פּאָעטן װאָס זײַנען נבֿיאים, ווי למשל משה קולבאַק און חיים־נחמן ביאַליק. פֿאַראַן פּאָעטן פֿילאָסאָפֿן, װי עמילי דיקינסאָן אָדער אַהרן צײטלין. און טײל פּאָעטן זײַנען קינסטלער פֿון אימזאַש, װי רחל פֿישמאַן. זעלטן װען אָבער זעט מען אַ פּאָעט, װאָס איז מסוגל דורך זײַנע לידער צו באַלעבן אָדער באַװױנען עטלעכע פּערזענלעכקײטן, פּאַרשױנען, און דערבײַ אױפֿצובױען אַ גאַלעריע פֿון פֿאַרשײדענע מענטשן־טיפּן.
דער פּאָעט איז אָפֿט מאָל אַ שרײַבער פֿון ליריק, דאָס הײסט, פֿערזן װאָס װערן אַרױסגעזאָגט פֿון אַ געװיסן „איך“ װען לידער זײַנען אינטערעסאַנט, װיל מען הערן אַלץ מער פֿונעם „איך“. נאָר אַ פּאָעט װאָס קען באַשילדערן פֿאַרשײדענע פֿיגורן טוט אױף עפּעס ברײטערס.
אין זײַן נײַסטן ביכל פּאָעזיע, „עלות־הלילה אױפֿן בױדעם,“ שטעלט ירמיהו אַהרן טאַוב פֿאָר סײַ קאָמפּאָזיציעס פֿון לירישן „איך“, אַ נאַראַטאָר װאָס איז אין געװיסע אַספּעקטן ענלעך צו טאַובן אַלײן, סײַ דיכטונגען פֿון אַנדערע װעלטן, גאַסן און געגנטן. דאָס אַלץ טוט ער אין פֿאַרשײדענע זשאַנערס (לידער, פּראָזע־מיניאַטורן) און פֿאַרשײדענע שפּראַכן: נישט נאָר ענגליש מיט ייִדיש, נאָר אױך (אין אײן פֿאַל) ענגליש צוזאַמענגעפֿלאָכט מיט לשן־קודש.
לײענערס װאָס זײַנען שױן באַקאַנט מיט טאַובס װערק װעלן דאָ דערקענען פֿריִערדיקע מאָטיװן, װאָס זײַנען עיִקר־טעמעס פֿאַרן דאָזיקן מחבר. ער איז דער מײַסער־פּאָרטרעטיסט פֿון סעקסועלע דערװאַכונג, אַנטױשטן באַגער (סײַ רעליגיעזער, סײַ קערפּעלערכער), ריסן צװישן דורות, פֿאַרװעלקטער פֿרומקײט. נאָר זיכער האָט מען שױן אין אַנדערע קאָנטעקטן באַרירט די פֿאַרבינדונגען צװישן „קװירשאַפֿט“, אָפּגעפֿאָרנקײט פֿון פֿרומען דרך, און ייִדיש, װי טעמעס פֿון פּאָעזיע און ליטעראַטור בכלל. די דאָזיקע צװישנשײדן זײַנען גאָר װיכטיק פֿאַר טאַובס שאַפֿונגען.
באַזונדערש רירנדיק דאָ זײַנען די בילדער פֿון משפּחה־רײַבונגען, פֿון באַגעגענישן װאָס ברענגען נישט צו קײן עמאָציאָנעלע פֿאַרשטענדיקונגען.
אין אײנעם אַ ליד טרעפֿן מיר דעם נאַראַטאָרס פֿאָטער, אַ פֿרומען ייִד, װאָס סע װילט זיך אים גאָר שטאַרק לערנען זײַן קינד װי אַזױ צו װאַרפֿן אַ בײסבאָל. צום באַדױערן, טױג דאָס קינד צו דעם אַזױ פֿיל װי ער טױג צו לערנען — דאָס הײסט, גאַנץ שװאַך.
די זעלבע פֿיגור, דער פֿרומער פֿאָטער װאָס איז נישט צופֿרידן מיט זײַן אָפּגעפֿאָרענעם קינד, באַװײַזט זיך אין נאָך עטלעכע לידער אין באַנד, אַלע מאָל אין הינטערגרונד, בעטנדיק נאָך אַ קדיש, נאָך אַ בלאַט גמרא, כאָטש אַ מנחה, און אַלע מאָל דעם שטױס נאָך פּרו־ורבֿו. דער נאַראַטאָר, װידער, פֿאַרצײכנט זײַנע פֿאָטערס באַגערן. זײַנע אײגענע באַגערן ליגן אָבער ערגעץ אַנדערש.
טאַוב פֿאַרברײטערט אָפֿט זײַן קוק צו באַקענען אונדז מיט אַנדערע פּאַרשױנען: פֿרױען אין פֿאַרשלאָפֿענע שטעטלעך, ערשטמאָליקע „גײ“־ליבע־באַגעגענישן, אױסשטאַרבנדיקע מנינים. אױך חיות באַלעבט ער אין זײַנע פֿערזן:
די װילדע קאַץ װאָס האָסט געראַטעװעט פֿונעם הינטערגעסל
קאָרטשעט זיך, אומרויִק אונטערן גלעט פֿון דײַן האַנט,
ניט אין שטאַנד אױסצוהאַלטן, ניט אין שטאַנד זיך אַװעקצודרײען פֿון אַזאַ הנאָה.“
אַ באַמערקונג װעגן שפּראַך: װי אין זײַנע פֿריִערדיקע ביכלעך, װערן דאָ אַרײַנגענומען לידער אױף ענגליש און אױף ייִדיש. די ייִדיש־נוסחאות זײַנען אַלע מאָל באַגלײגט מיט פּאַראַלעלע ענגלישע װערסיעס. (איך דערלױב זיך דאָ אַ פּאָר אײדעלע טענות װעגן די גרײַזן װאָס זײַנען אַרײַנגעפֿאַלן אין די ייִדישע טעקסטן, און דאָס, װאָס טײל פֿון די ייִדיש־װערסיעס װערן געדרוקט אין קלענערע אותיות פֿון די ענגלישע.)
מע װאָלט דאָ געקענט זיך אַרײַנלאָזן אין אַ לענגערער דיסקוסיע װעגן די באַציִונגען פֿון די דאָזיקע װערסיעס. זײ זײַנען איבערזעצונגען אײנס פֿון אַנדערן, נאָר אױך אינטערפּרעטאַציעס. די ייִדישע לידער זײַנען (װאָדען?) מער אַדורכגעדרונגען מיט דער דראַמע װאָס באַגלײגט דאָס גאַנץ ביכל: די רײַבונגען צװישן דעם טראַדיציאָנעלן לעבן־שטײגער, פֿול מיטן שטרענגען דין, און דער בענקשאַפֿט פֿון דעם נאַראַטאָר, אַן אָפּגעפֿאָרענער װאָס װיל זיכער נישט זיך אומקערן, און פֿאָרט בענקט זיך אַהין. אינעם ליד „מילך־און־האָניקדיקע לבֿנה־האַרבסטונג“ לײענט זיך אַ ביסל טרוקן די ענגלישע שורה And, in that way, the Day of Rest lived up to its name
בשעת דאָס ייִדישע „און אַזױ טאַקע האָט דער יום־מנוחה אונדז נישט אַנטױשט“ גיט איבער אױף אַ קלאָרן אױפֿן װעגן װאָסער מין רו גײט דאָ די רײד.
איך האָב דאָ באַװיזן איבערצוגעבן נאָר אױפֿן שפּיץ מעסער די טעמאַטיק פֿון די דאָזיקע לידער. כאָטש טאַוב, בדרך־כּלל, גיט די בכורה עמאָציעס און געפֿילן, נישט קאָנסטאַטירונגען און אידעאָלאָגיעס, איז דאָס ביכל נישט קיין אומפּאָליטישע. פֿאַרקערט, די (ענגלישע) לידער „דער אָפּרו פֿון אַקטיװיסט“ און „פּערמאַנענטער אײַנװױנער, אָן קײן גרינעם קאַרטל“ גיבן איבער אױף אַ האַרץ־רײַסנדיקן אופֿן, װי זײערע טיטלען זאָגן אָן, די אָנשטרענגען און קאָמפּראָמיסן פֿון הײַנטיקן פּאָליטישן מאָמענט.
לױט מײַן מיינונג ווערט דאָס ביכל אָרגאַניזירט מיטן דראַמאַטישן בױגן פֿון אַ מענטשלעכן לעבן, פֿון ענגלישן ליד „דאָס ליכט בײַם אָנהײב טונעל“, אין אָנהײב, ביזן לעצטן ליד „צום סוף“, װאָס װענדט זיך צום לײענער אַזױ:
װען איך גײ אַװעק,
רײַס ניט די קלײדער,
און טראָג ניט קײן שװאַרץ,
באַהאַלט ניט דעם שפּיגל….
זײַ נישט קײן אָבֿל אין גאַנצן.
„װען איך גײ אַװעק,“ זאָגט דער נאַראַטאָר, „מאַך פֿאַר זיך אַ שׂימחה.“
נאָכן געזעגענען זיך מיטן דאָזיקן ביכל, װינטשט מען דעם מחבר נאָך לאַנגע יאָרן פֿון דער שׂימחה פֿון שאַפֿן נאָך טיף־גרײכנדיקע און פֿילעװדיקע מעדיטאַציעס װעגן לעבן און טױט, פֿרומקײט און װעלטלעכקײט, סעקס און ליבשאַפֿט, „קװיר“־ און העטעראָ־אידענטיטעט.
אין „געבעט“, דאָס סאַמע ערשטע ליד, װענדט זיך דער פֿאָטער צום נאַראַטאָר: „דער טאַטע רופֿט מיך צו היטן שבת“, צו דאַװנען, צו לערנען, זאַכן װאָס דער נאַראַטאָר װיל נישט, איז נישט מסוגל צו טאָן. קומט דער פּאָעט צום אױספֿיר אַז „נאָר די װערטער קענען מיך ראַטעװען.“
אַ בעסערע װעלטלעכע תּפֿילה קען נישט זײַן. הלװאַי אױף אונדז אַלעמען געזאָגט געוואָרן.
The post Words of rescue: Yermiyahu Ahron Taub’s new book of poetry appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
Israel, US condemn Belgium over planned prosecutions tied to Jewish circumcisions
(JTA) — A diplomatic spat erupted on Wednesday after Belgian prosecutors moved to charge two Jewish men tied to ritual circumcisions, prompting Israeli and U.S. officials to accuse Belgium of targeting Jews for practicing their faith.
Gideon Saar, Israel’s minister of foreign affairs, lit into the country in a post on X Wednesday morning, calling the indictments a “scarlet letter on Belgian society.”
“With this act Belgium joins a short and shameful list, together with Ireland, of countries that use criminal law to prosecute Jews for practicing Judaism,” Saar wrote, later calling circumcision a “cornerstone of Jewish faith” and urging the Belgian government to “act immediately and to find a solution.”
Saar’s condemnation was quickly joined by the U.S. ambassador to Belgium, Bill White, who had previously called on Belgium to drop the “ridiculous and antisemitic” investigation of mohels in February.
“This is a shameful stain on Belgium,” White wrote in a post on X. “The prosecution of these religious figures (mohels), one of whom is American, is WRONG and won’t be tolerated. Belgium will be thought of now as anti Semitic by world. Until this is resolved – there is no way around it.”
White, a President Donald Trump appointee who faced criticism for amplifying social media posts by a far-right Belgian political activist convicted of racism and Holocaust denial, added that the “Trump Administration condemns this judicial action” and called on the Belgian government to “work with the Jewish leaders and communities to find a certification solution immediately.”
The condemnation by White and Saar comes after the Antwerp Public Prosecutor’s Office announced that it intends to prosecute two Jewish men on charges related to performing circumcisions, a practice that is required by law to be performed by licensed medical professionals in Belgium.
Last year, Belgian authorities raided multiple sites, including two in Antwerp’s Jewish Quarter, at the beginning of an investigation into illegal circumcisions. Investigators also requested lists of children who had recently been circumcised, according to VRT NWS, the Flemish public broadcaster.
But the sharp criticism by the two leaders was later dismissed by Belgian Foreign Minister Maxime Prévot, who wrote in a reply to White’s post that it was “inappropriate to publicly criticize a country and tarnish its image simply because you disagree with judicial proceedings.”
“I recall that the proceedings in question were initiated by representatives of the Jewish community themselves,” Prévot continued. “To portray those as a country’s desire to undermine the religious freedom of Jews is defamatory. This freedom has never been called into question and never will be in our country. Our Constitution protects it. And it is not for an ambassador to dictate the government’s agenda.”
In response to Saar’s post, Prévot wrote, “Enough with these caricatures.”
“Since you yourself recently urged against conducting diplomacy via Twitter, I suggest that we discuss all these issues during a meeting in Israel at a time that suits you best, in order to put an end to any misinterpretations,” Prévot continued.
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post Israel, US condemn Belgium over planned prosecutions tied to Jewish circumcisions appeared first on The Forward.

