The object that best explains the Jewish Museum’s new core exhibition isn’t actually there.

Printed on the wall is a photographed section of the first century Arch of Titus, depicting the sacking of Jerusalem in 70 AD. Among the plunder looted by the Romans was the Temple’s seven-branched menorah. This image, carved by conquerors, speaks to a lost homeland and culture. Or it might have, had Jews not proven supremely adaptable.

The rest of the exhibit’s 200 items, ranging from antiquity to this decade, are a testament to how Jews, experiencing millennia of diaspora, suffered, thrived and engaged with their neighbors. As Jewish Museum director James S. Snyder told me, his approach is not to present Jews as separate and elevated, but as a people deeply enmeshed in their global communities, resonating with them while maintaining their sense of self.

The $14.5 million renovation of the third and fourth floors in the Central Park-facing, neo-Gothic mansion built for the German-American Warburg family in 1908, can’t help but tell that story.

Titled “Identity, Culture and Community: Stories from the Collection,” the exhibit is organized thematically and roughly chronologically, beginning with a gallery of Judaica: a handsome Torah ark from Urbino, inscribed in Hebrew and decorated with Italianate flourishes. A Torah scroll destroyed by the British in the American Revolution holds pride of place, while an adjoining gallery, inspired by the forthcoming 250th Anniversary of the United States, boasts personal artifacts like the mezuzah of Continental Army financier Haym Salomon.

Moving away from Torah finials and portraits of prominent Jews, there’s a section dedicated to persecution and remembrance. Hanging there is a selection of intimate portraits by Gertrud Kauders, whose paintings were discovered in the walls of a home outside Prague during a 2018 home renovation. Kauders, an assimilated Czech Jew who was murdered in 1942 in Majdanek, hid them before her deportation.

While this work was discovered decades after her death, it’s in the company of some notable names, and not all of them Jewish. A 1936 Alice Neel painting of a New York City Communist rally, illustrating her friend, the artist Sid Gotcliffe, holding a placard reading “Nazis Murder Jews,” appears alongside an apocalyptic, modernist cityscape by Abraham Manievich. Manievich’s 1919 depiction of the destruction of the Kiev ghetto, a literal scapegoat foregrounded in the rubble, seems to prefigure Picasso’s Guernica in an expressionist mode.

European Jews were not immune to the modernism sweeping over Europe, and used its fractured forms to comment on their people’s persecution. A late figurative drawing of severed limbs by Mark Rothko, from his crucifixion series in the early 1940s, makes a wry comment on Christian hegemony and Hitler’s campaign of annihilation. (Marc Chagall, who produced a similar series, is across the way, appearing to pee on his native Vitebsk, which he left for Paris.)

A charm bracelet produced in Terezin, whose individual pieces are identifiable on a touch screen, shows how production didn’t stop in the Holocaust. Hadar Gad’s notebook, imagining the obliteration of her grandmother’s hometown in Poland, and produced after Oct. 7, reveal the Shoah’s continued resonances today. Dor Guez, son of a Palestinian Christian mother and North African Jewish father, makes use of his family’s quotidian possessions to tell their post-World War II immigration story. Other other artists make use of suitcase imagery.

From commentaries on displacement, there next emerges a reclamation of ritual objects within the context of a dominant culture: a Bauhaus-inspired menorah, a mid-century modern Torah crown forged with looping silver threads. Women artists, like Lee Krasner, gravitate toward abstraction. A stretch devoted to women modernists focuses on intersectionality. There are Miriam cups, a feminist inclusion to the Seder ceremony, and artist Gil Yefman’s kippah, topped by a dark nipple to signify the feminine nature of God.

Two thousand years after the sack of Jerusalem, contemporary artists are still grappling with how to express their Jewishness alongside compounding, modern identities. Candace Breitz’s video installation registers her discomfort, as a white woman chosen to represent South Africa at the 57th Venice Biennial, and so features a diverse and representative group of artists, saying “I am Candace Breitz.” A piece by Izhar Patkin, inspired by motifs on Persian rugs, faces a carpet from the 1890s with the likeness of Moses and Aaron, which the Shah of Iran is believed to have commissioned for his Jewish doctor.

Coinciding with the new core exhibit is a second floor show spotlighting the early works by Anish Kapoor, the Indian-born British artist, whose father was Hindu and whose mother was from the Iraqi Jewish community. (In a press conference, Kapoor downplayed how his background shaped the art.) But the overall theme carries onto the new fourth floor learning center.

Replicas of objects — a mosaic floor tile, a ceramic turkey menorah from 2013’s “Thankgivukkah,” an ancient bull figurine that is remarkably Aardman-esque  — are available to touch to teach visitors about materials artists use. A 50-foot glass vitrine, with 130 menorahs from around the globe, most crafted by non-Jewish artisans, look out onto the modernist art on the floor below. The display is not about Hanukkah, but the significance of light in all cultures.

Even in a section devoted to largely pre-diaspora archaeology, where families can dig through foam rubble for potsherds, a touchscreen invites the visitor to read about “interactions among peoples.”

Imperial coins and helmets of Hellenic occupiers are on view. So too, are ritual objects from other Levantine groups, some several thousand years old, up to a 20th-Century bridal pin from Baghdad. The Jewish story, these objects insist, can’t be understood in isolation.

The post A revived Jewish Museum spotlights the story of Jewish endurance appeared first on The Forward.

The arrival of Vice President JD Vance in Israel on Tuesday was, in one sense, encouraging. Vance’s presence, with presidential son-in-law Jared Kushner and Middle East envoy Steve Witkoff, signaled that the United States remains focused on the Gaza endgame. That message of engagement was right, as was the trio’s repeated message that Hamas must disarm.

But something essential was very much wrong. There was no sign that the U.S. understands what it will actually take to bring Hamas to heel.

Vance, Witkoff and Kushner’s rhetoric was managerial, not martial. It conveyed commitment without urgency. The measured tones implicit in the warnings that “time” and “hard work” are needed betrayed a deeper failure to grasp what the moment demands. Because words will not disarm Hamas — the single step most necessary to any effort to create a lasting peace.

Now is not the moment for carefully explaining how complex disarmament would be. It’s the moment for applying all possible pressure to get that disarmament done. If this does not occur soon, President Donald Trump’s peace plan will not just fall apart but become a joke. The best-case scenario would be the embarrassment of a prematurely declared victory. The worst would be an echo of Neville Chamberlain proclaiming “peace in our time” amid the failed effort to appease Hitler in the run-up to World War II.

As soon as the firing ceased, Hamas began consolidating power, publicly slaughtering members of rival groups by the dozen. These are not the actions of a group that intends to move forward in accordance with Trump’s plan, which calls for its disarmament and removal from all governance.

Rather, these are the actions of a group that thinks it has achieved what it has wanted: to remain standing at the end of the war, and thus be able to claim victory and validation. True, it is standing atop the smoldering ruins left by two years of death and devastation, but its leaders are indifferent to that cost. Indeed, they likely even see it as valuable in bringing global condemnation upon Israel.

If the U.S. is serious about ending this war on terms that deny Hamas any path back to power, it must respond to Hamas by replacing rhetoric with leverage. What is needed now is not patience but a dramatic and public escalation of pressure — a demonstration that Washington is prepared to wield the world’s biggest baseball bat until Hamas yields.

The U.S. should start by declaring, publicly and unequivocally, that no reconstruction money or aid will enter Gaza while any part of it remains under Hamas control. That is the red line, and it must be enforced, not implied. It’s essential to take every step possible to show Hamas that the material and political costs of them keeping their guns substantially outweigh any benefits.

Next, the U.S. must move beyond gentle urging and demand action by the three Arab states that matter most: Qatar, Turkey and Egypt. Each has in some way helped to sustain Hamas, and each depends heavily on American goodwill. Washington should insist on deliverables — that the countries freeze accounts affiliated with Hamas, expel Hamas operatives and make public commitments to choke off support — and couple them with clear consequences for failure. If these governments want continued partnership, they must help end Hamas’s reign.

Vance’s Tuesday appearance set an underwhelming precedent for any of these actions.

The time is running short for the U.S. to establish a blunt public posture. That stance is the only one with a shot at conveying to Hamas that, if they don’t comply, war will, unfortunately and inevitably, resume.

I say this as someone who opposed the war’s continuation. But the truth is that the enormous moral and political costs already paid cannot justify an outcome in which Gaza is still ruled by armed fanatics. The sunk cost of this campaign demands a decisive outcome: a territory free of Hamas’s guns.

The American envoys, to their credit, repeated that objective. Yet they sounded like negotiators, not enforcers.

That same error has proved costly for this administration before. After the June war in which Israel — and then the U.S. — crippled Iran’s nuclear and missile program, Tehran was momentarily staggered and diplomatically isolated. That was the moment to extract concessions: a formal rollback of uranium enrichment, an end to proxy militia funding and real limits on missile development.

Instead, Trump bombastically claimed victory and moved on. Within weeks, Iran had resumed its patterns of defiance, with its leaders rejecting negotiations over the nuclear program with the U.S. and backing out of a recent cooperation deal with the United Nations nuclear watchdog IAEA.

His team can’t make the same mistake twice. It’s time for them to employ substantial U.S. leverage against the Arab states that can help keep things on course. Qatar hosts the region’s largest U.S. air base and holds hundreds of billions in American investments. Turkey is a NATO ally angling for defense deals and financial relief. Egypt’s military depends on U.S. aid. None can afford sustained friction with Washington. The time for polite persuasion has passed.

This is a binary moment. Either Hamas disarms and Gaza rebuilds under international supervision, or it clings to its weapons and condemns the territory to perpetual siege. There is no middle ground. Each week of drift lets the group rearm, recruit, and rewrite the narrative, emerging from the rubble and calling survival victory.

The habit of claiming credit before closing the deal — the instinct to declare progress rather than enforce it — haunts this administration. It is now offering a lifeline to Hamas. It must take pains to ensure that history does not record that the U.S. — amid risibly premature pomp and circumstance — turned what could have been a positive ending into yet another prelude for war.

The post JD Vance just made a critical error in Israel — and time to curb Hamas is running short appeared first on The Forward.

Many Jewish New Yorkers are hoping that Zohran Mamdani’s candidacy is an aberration and that Democrats will soon return to candidates who embrace a close alliance with Israel and express a heartfelt understanding of the relationship many American Jews feel toward the country.

That aspiration describes many of the city’s most prominent Democratic officials, from Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer and House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries, to Reps. Ritchie Torres and Dan Goldman. Eric Adams, the outgoing mayor, also fits the bill.

For these Jews, defeating Mamdani is especially urgent because loss could hasten a return to this norm, while a victory could signal a more permanent shift.

“Mamdani poses a danger to the security of the New York Jewish community,” Rabbi Elliot Cosgrove told Park Avenue Synagogue congregants in his Shabbat sermon Saturday. “And if you play out the chess game of Democratic politics, a danger that could have much wider consequences.”

For Jews like Cosgrove, Mamdani’s political positions are the problem — they view his opposition to Zionism as antisemitic, and his efforts to reassure the Jewish community as an implicit confession that Jews would have something to worry about if he was in charge.

Other leaders, like Rabbi Rachel Timoner at Congregation Beth Elohim in Brooklyn, are making a different calculation. Her synagogue hosted Mamdani for a private conversation with members, part of his Jewish outreach that has included synagogue and sukkah visits plus private meetings with clergy.

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The divergent approaches — rallying congregants against Mamdani versus engaging with the candidate — showcase two different models for handling political candidates who are hostile toward Israel.

Timoner said she owed it to her congregants to bring Mamdani to the synagogue for a conversation. “I’m hoping that he is going to listen with an open mind and an open heart to the real pain and fear and experience of the Jewish community,” she told JTA.

Cosgrove acknowledged that Mamdani was likely to win but said that was no reason to try and extend an olive branch. “I understand the pragmatic instinct,” he said. “I choose principle instead.”

I expect many more Jewish leaders will be confronting this hard decision in the years to come, because polling shows that Mamdani’s views toward Israel are starting to align with a majority of Democratic voters.

Three times more Democrats in New York City sympathize with the Palestinians over Israel (57% to 18%), while nationally 69% of Democrats have an unfavorable view of Israel.

Sympathizing with Palestinians is not the same thing as opposing Israel’s existence, but 67% of Democrats also think Israel’s military actions in Gaza should be defined as either genocide or major war crimes akin to genocide, while only 7% considered them to be legitimate self-defense, a stance that does call Israel’s legitimacy into question.

And while many party leaders remain stalwart supporters of Israel, there is evidence some are starting to feel the heat. Sen. Cory Booker squirmed during an interview with liberal podcaster Jennifer Welch last week as she grilled him on receiving donations from AIPAC and taking a friendly photograph with Benjamin Netanyahu over the summer. “‘What in the actual f—-?” Welch asked.

Hakeem Jeffries, the House Minority Leader, has been tagged “AIPAC Shakur” by popular radio host Charlamagne Tha God, and recently accepted an endorsement from J Street, a liberal AIPAC alternative, while other prominent Democrats are turning down AIPAC funding.

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The pressure may ease if the ceasefire holds in Gaza, but it’s hard to see the overall trends reversing without an improbable breakthrough in the Israeli-Palestinian peace process.

That suggests the kind of red lines that Jewish leaders have long sought to maintain around Israel and antisemitism — opposing Israel’s right to exist as a Jewish state, for example — will start to lose their power.

If more Mamdanis start running for office, will concerned Jewish leaders shift their focus from these candidates’ views on Israel to how they treat their Jewish constituents?

One of the themes I’ve found in reporting on campus antisemitism is that students are often bothered more by how some of their peers act out their anger toward Israel — often by shunning Jews who don’t completely buy into anti-Zionism — than by the anger itself.

Is there anything that candidates who oppose Israel can offer Jewish leaders and voters who support Israel, short of changing their foreign policy positions?

Mamdani has tried. In addition to his charm offensive, he has sought to reassure Jews in New York City that he will not demonize Jews he disagrees with, telling Beth Elohim members that he would not impose a litmus test around Israel at City Hall and anticipated hiring Zionists of all different political persuasions if elected.

That comment only served to provoke Cosgrove, who said Mamdani had revealed an “assumption that Jewish self-determination is an ideology to be tolerated, rather than a birthright to be respected.”

But perhaps it comforted some of those in the audience at Beth Elohim.

Of course, Mamdani is still in campaign mode. The bigger test will come if he wins. How a Mayor Mamdani would ultimately relate to the city’s Jews— and whether antisemitic incidents spike, fall or remain flat — will almost certainly inform how other rabbis and Jewish leaders react to future candidates who share his views.

The post If Mamdani is the future of the Democratic party, how will Jews respond? appeared first on The Forward.