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Ukrainian Jewish life has always taken place in Russian. Now a race to translate is underway.
LVIV, Ukraine (JTA) – The rabbis sat around a breakfast table, discussing Russia’s war on the country where they work in a mixture of Yiddish, Hebrew and Russian. They named their hometowns as Lugansk, Lvov and Dnepr, the Russian names for Ukrainian cities that have vaulted into international headlines since Russia invaded Ukraine in February.
Although they were focused on Ukraine’s progress in the fighting, the rabbis uttered not a single word in Ukrainian. How could they? Like the vast majority of Jews in Ukraine, none of them speaks the country’s official language.
Russian has long been the first language for a wide swath of Ukrainians, including the majority of the country’s Jews. But after the Russian invasion, many Ukrainians decided they wanted to speak less Russian and more Ukrainian. Many Jews, similarly horrified by the sight of thousands of Russian soldiers pouring over Ukraine’s borders and wishing to demonstrate their Ukrainian bonafides, have made the same choice — even as it means disrupting a long linguistic tradition.
So when the rabbis’ successors meet for pancakes and sour cream, they will be far more likely to introduce themselves as the rabbis of Luhansk, Lviv and Dnipro, the Ukrainian names for their hometowns that have become the standard in English. They will also likely be able to hand their students and congregants Ukrainian-language versions of central Jewish texts that simply do not exist now.
“Many of my friends say that they are embarrassed to use Russian as a language. They say that we are Ukrainian Jews, and that Russia is a terrorist country fighting us and that we shouldn’t use their language,” said Rabbi Meir Stambler, from Dnipro. “Others say that [Russian president Vladimir] Putin doesn’t own the Russian language. It is an issue.”
He added, “This is something that people are discussing all the time.”
A decade ago, half of Ukrainians said they spoke Russian as their native language. That number has declined to 20%, fueled in part by resentment over Russia’s aggressions in Crimea, a contested region that it annexed by force in 2014. But Jews have remained predominantly Russian-speaking, even in parts of western Ukraine where Ukrainian has long been the dominant language. (Russian and Ukrainian are related linguistically, but their speakers cannot understand each other.)
Russia’s war on Ukraine has Ukrainian Jews playing catchup. Stambler, who heads the Federation of Jewish Communities, a body affiliated with the Hasidic Chabad-Lubavitch movement that operates a network of 36 synagogues around Ukraine, offers a stark prediction: “Within 10 years, every Jew in Ukraine will speak Ukrainian.”
The dominance of Russian among Ukraine’s Jews, who numbered in the tens of thousands before the war, has deep roots.
“The historical trajectory of Jews in what is now Ukraine led them in the 19th century to adopt Russian rather than Ukrainian,” says historian Natan Meir, a professor of Judaic studies at Portland State University. “That was because Ukrainian was perceived as a peasant language that did not have any high culture associated with it, and because there were no economic advantages to adopting Ukrainian at the time.”
Now, the upside of switching to Ukrainian — demonstrating a national allegiance during a time of war — couldn’t be clearer.
“Jews feel quite integrated into Ukrainian society, but a shift, even if it is a gradual shift, to Ukrainian is going to make that more tangible than ever,” Meir said, calling the Russian invasion “absolutely game-changing” for Ukrainian Jews. “They will be perceived even more strongly than they have been as being wholly Ukrainian and part of the fabric of Ukrainian society.”
Most Ukrainian Jews, especially those educated since the collapse of the Soviet Union, can now speak some Ukrainian. But their ability often depends on where they grew up: Many Jews in traditionally Russophone cities such as Odesa, Dnipro or Kharkiv can struggle with the language, while their grandparents often cannot speak it at all.
Books in both Hebrew and Russian sit on a bookshelf at Medzhybizh. (Jacob Judah)
“Not more than 20% were Ukrainian-speaking at home,” says Stambler. “Take President [Volodymyr] Zelensky. He knew Ukrainian, but he didn’t speak it at home, and he had to polish it up when he became president.”
It will not be simple for the Jewish community to suddenly switch to Ukrainian, the most widely spoken European language without a standardized translation of the Torah.
Two years ago, a team of translators working in Israel, Austria and Hungary began working to produce Ukrainian-language Jewish texts. But before the Russian invasion, the effort had so far produced only a Ukrainian book of psalms, or tehillim.
In May, two months into the war, a decision was made to accelerate work on a daily prayer book. A Torah could follow.
“The chumash is difficult,” said Stambler, who oversees the half-dozen-strong team of translators from his base in Dnipro, using the Hebrew word for the printed form of the Torah. “We are working on it.”
While translating sacred texts can take years, other changes have come faster. The leaflets, brochures and calendars that are a fixture at any Jewish center in Ukraine were quickly swapped out Russian for Ukrainian, at least at the federation’s headquarters. Before February, these had often been produced and printed by Russian Jewish communities and shared with those in Ukraine, for simplicity’s sake.
“This differentiation from Russian Jewry is going to be huge,” said Meir, the historian. “Up until this point they have essentially formed one linguistic and cultural space that all Jews, whether they were in Ukraine, Russia or Belarus could move freely between.”
Now, the ties between those communities are both logistically complicated to maintain — trade routes have been ruptured — and also potentially a liability at a time when anyone in either Russia or Ukraine showing an affinity for the other country can face suspicion or penalties.
“This shift, if it actually happens, is going to be marking out a totally new cultural space for Ukrainian Jews and almost a declaration of independence,” Meir said “Or at least that is the aspiration, because there is so much of their heritage which is still based in the Russian language that it is going to be a long time before they can fully separate.”
That separation process, which began to take shape most clearly after 2014, has quickened. “We started doing things ourselves,” said Stambler. “We used to do about 20% in Ukrainian for the Jews in western towns like Lviv, Ivano-Frankivsk and Uzhhorod, but we are making a much stronger push now.”
He estimates that some 75% of material being distributed to Ukrainian Jewish communities by the Federation of Jewish Communities was in Ukrainian by September, up from 20% to 35% in January.
Young rabbis who come from the United States or Israel to serve small Jewish communities across Ukraine now say that they have had to add Ukrainian alongside their Russian classes.
“I began with Russian,” said one of those rabbis who works in Vinnitsya, until he decided over the summer that he had to learn Ukrainian. “I realized that I had to learn Ukrainian because I needed it on the street. I needed it to speak with the government and with the media.”
Signs in a synagogue in Ukraine are written in both Ukrainian and Russian. (Jacob Judah)
Some Ukrainian Jews are voting with their voices.
“My whole life, I spoke only Russian,” said Olha Peresunko, who before the war lived in Mikolaiv in southern Ukraine. “But after the 24th of February I am speaking only Ukrainian.”
Peresunko was speaking outside a Lviv synagogue this fall, where she and other refugees were waiting for food parcels. She had fled Mikolaiv, which has sustained repeated assault by Russian troops, for Lviv with her mother and two children while her husband is on the frontlines.
Her children are finding it hard to adjust to the exclusive Ukrainian environment in Lviv, but she is confident that they will make the shift. “They will speak Ukrainian as their first language,” Peresunko said.
Exactly how much the shift to Ukrainian will change local Jewish communities is a matter of debate. Rabbi Shalom Gopin, who fled to Kyiv in 2014 from his home community in Luhansk, an overwhelmingly Russophone city seized by Russia-backed separatists at that time, said he, too, believes that Ukrainian will displace Russian as the lingua franca of Ukrainian Jewry.
A Ukrainian woman displays her Ukrainian-language Jewish calendar as a source of pride, September 2022. (Jacob Judah)
“They are starting to slowly speak Ukrainian,” he said. “It is no problem. There are lots of Jews in America who speak English. We live here, and we speak the languages of the places that we live. It is normal.”
But Gopin said the linguistic shift “means nothing” amid other issues facing Jews in Ukraine, where Russia’s war is threatening to undo 30 years of Jewish community building, largely though not exclusively led by Chabad, Gopin’s Orthodox movement.
“The problem for the Jews of Ukraine is not language,” he said. “It is about how much they are going to synagogue, or how many children are going to Jewish schools, not about what they are speaking.”
Natalia Kozachuk, 45, a Jewish businesswoman in Lviv, sees only upside to shedding Russian, her native language. She has started to speak to her children only in Ukrainian.
“It will be hugely positive if Jews speak more Ukrainian,” Kozachuk said. This is the only way that Jews can truly “learn more about the Ukrainian people,” she said, “about their history and the positive qualities and strengths of Ukraine.”
“Only good can come of it,” she added. “We will understand each other better.”
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Netanyahu Coalition Pushes Contentious Oct. 7 Attack Probe, Families Call for Justice
Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu participates in the state memorial ceremony for the fallen of the Iron Swords War on Mount Herzl, Jerusalem on Oct. 16, 2025. Photo: Alex Kolomoisky/POOL/Pool via REUTERS
Israel‘s parliament gave the initial go-ahead on Wednesday for a government-empowered inquiry into the surprise October 7, 2023 attack by Hamas terrorists on southern Israel rather than the expected independent investigation demanded by families of the victims.
Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has resisted calls to establish a state commission to investigate Israel‘s failures in the run-up to its deadliest day and has taken no responsibility for the attack that sparked the two-year Gaza war.
His ruling coalition voted on Wednesday to advance a bill which grants parliament members the authority to pick panel members for an inquiry and gives Netanyahu’s cabinet the power to set its mandate.
Critics say the move circumvents Israel‘s 1968 Commissions of Inquiry Law, under which the president of the Supreme Court appoints an independent panel to investigate major state failures such as those which preceded the 1973 Yom Kippur war.
Survivors and relatives of those hurt in the Hamas attack have launched a campaign against the proposed probe, saying only a state commission can bring those accountable to justice.
“This is a day of disaster for us all,” said Eyal Eshel, who lost his daughter when Hamas militants overran the army base where she served. “Justice must be done and justice will be done,” he said at the Knesset, before the vote.
Surveys have shown wide public support for the establishment of a state commission into the country’s biggest security lapse in decades.
Netanyahu said on Monday that a panel appointed in line with the new bill, by elected officials from both the opposition and the coalition, would be independent and win broad public trust.
But Israel‘s opposition has already said it will not cooperate with what it describes as an attempt by Netanyahu’s coalition to cover up the truth rather than reveal it, arguing that the investigation would ultimately be controlled by Netanyahu and his coalition.
The new bill says that if the politicians fail to agree on the panel, its make-up will be decided by the head of parliament, who is allied with Netanyahu and is a member of his Likud party.
Jon Polin, whose son Hersh Goldberg-Polin was taken hostage and found slain by his captors with five other hostages in a Hamas tunnel in August 2024, said only a trusted commission could restore security and unite a nation still traumatized.
“I support a state commission, not to see anyone punished and not because it will bring back my only son, no. I support a state commission so that nothing like what happened to my son, can ever happen to your son, or your daughter, or your parents,” Polin said on Sunday at a news conference with other families.
Hersh Goldberg-Polin was among dozens of hostages taken in the 2023 attack from the site of the Nova music festival.
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Christmas Celebrations Muted at Bondi as Australians Grieve After Deadly Shooting
People attend the ‘Light Over Darkness’ vigil honoring victims and survivors of a deadly mass shooting during a Jewish Hanukkah celebration at Bondi Beach on Dec. 14, in Sydney, Australia, Dec. 21, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Hollie Adams
Christmas celebrations were muted at Sydney’s famed Bondi Beach on Thursday in the aftermath of a terror attack that killed 15 people there more than a week ago, as the community continued to grapple with the country’s deadliest mass shooting in nearly three decades.
Police patrolled across the beachfront in Bondi, a traditional Christmas destination, as hundreds of people, many wearing Santa hats, gathered on the sands.
“I think it’s tragic, and I think everybody respects and is very sad for what happened, and I think people here are out on the beach, because it’s like a celebration but everybody has got it in their memories and everybody is respectful of what happened,” British tourist Mark Conroy told Reuters.
“Everyone is feeling for the family and friends who are going through the worst possible thing you could imagine.”
The gun attack on December 14 at a Jewish Hanukkah celebration has prompted calls for stricter gun laws and tougher action against antisemitism, while public gathering rules in Sydney have been tightened under new laws passed on Wednesday.
Beachgoers were seen taking photos next to a Christmas tree while some posed with lifeguards, although windy weather conditions appeared to thin crowds.
“It’s not the best conditions for Christmas Day today, it’s a bit choppy. … so not ideal, but people are still here,” Surf Life Saving Patrol Captain Thomas Hough said.
Flags flew at half mast outside the heritage-listed Bondi Pavilion building near the site of the attack, which police say was allegedly carried out by a father and son, inspired by the militant group Islamic State.
In Melbourne, a car with a “Happy Chanukah!” sign was set alight on Christmas Day in the city’s southeast, with no injuries reported, Australian media reported.
Prime Minister Anthony Albanese, facing mounting criticism from opponents who argue his government has not done enough to curb a rise in antisemitism, called the firebombing of the car “just beyond comprehension.”
“What sort of evil ideology and thoughts at a time like this would motivate someone?,” Albanese told reporters on Thursday.
Since the start of Israel’s war in Gaza in October 2023, there have been attacks against synagogues, Jewish buildings and cars in Australia.
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‘Poles Watching Can Be Proud’: Director Defends Holocaust Film 10-Years in the Making Sparking Backlash in Poland
Pelagia Radecka, featured in “Among Neighbors.” Photo: Courtesy of 8 Above
A documentary that addresses the historic and well-documented murder of hundreds of Holocaust survivors by local Poles in the aftermath of World War II has stirred political controversy within the Eastern European country, but its director told The Algemeiner the film mentions a lot that Poles can be proud of.
“There are stories within the film that Poles can look at and be proud of how those individuals acted during and since World War II,” said Yoav Potash, the Jewish award-winning writer, producer and director of “Among Neighbors.”
“And there are also stories that may make people feel like it’s a shame, that some Poles behaved the way they did,” he added. “And that’s an appropriate and mature response. To look at the history of your own nation and say, ‘Wow, some of us really failed in our decency and humanity.’”
Potash’s documentary “Among Neighbors” focuses on a handful of particular stories in the small town of Gniewoszów, in north-central Poland, where Jews were murdered by their Polish Catholic neighbors months after the war ended – neighbors whom they once lived peacefully with for centuries before World War II. The film uses hand-drawn animation as well as first-hand testimonies and interviews with Holocaust survivors, locals and World War II experts in Poland to tell the stories of Jews who were liberated at the end of the Holocaust only to be then murdered by local Poles when returning home.
At the heart of the film is Yaacov Goldstein, one of the last living Holocaust survivors from Gniewoszów, and Pelagia Radecka, a local Polish eyewitness who saw Jews murdered in Gniewoszów by her Polish neighbors, six months after the Nazis were defeated. Radecka has fond memories of her Jewish neighbors and at the age of 85, she remains scarred by their murders, and efforts by the murderers and politicians to silence her. She holds on to the hope that she will find the Jewish boy who is the surviving child of two of the victims murdered by local Poles. Goldstein talks in the film about his wartime experiences and the brutal conditions he was forced to endure to survive the Holocaust, which include hiding for two years in a storage compartment so small he could not straighten his legs and escaping execution by a Nazi firing squad because of “a miracle.”
Several elders from Gniewoszów were interviewed for “Among Neighbors” and all but two have since died. The film features their final testimony.
It took Potash 10 years to make “Among Neighbors,” the filmmaker from California told The Algemeiner. He said he was basically “flying under the radar” filming the project in Poland when the country passed a law in 2018 criminalizing any claims that the Polish nation or state was complicit in the Holocaust. The controversial legislation, making it illegal to accuse Poland of colluding with the Nazis, was championed by the ruling nationalist Law and Justice party. The country has a long-standing history of promoting the narrative that Poles were only victims in Nazi-occupied Poland. In November, Polish Member of Parliament Grzegorz Braun declared “Poland is for the Poles” and that Jews “have their own countries” during a speech outside the site of the former Auschwitz concentration camp.
“Among Neighbors” made its world premiere at the Warsaw Jewish Film Festival last year, where it won the festival’s Special Award. Poland’s national public broadcaster TVP aired the film in November and its television premiere garnered well over 100,000 viewers, according to Potash. “Among Neighbors” is still available for viewers in Poland on TVP’s streaming platform.
But on Nov. 16, six days after “Among Neighbors” aired and began streaming in Poland, senior Polish officials and right-wing media outlets condemned both the film and TVP. Agnieszka Jędrzak, undersecretary to Polish President Karol Nawrocki, called the film “anti-Polish historical manipulation” in a post on X. The National Broadcasting Council of Poland (KRRiT) has since launched an investigation into TVP, which is ongoing. So far TVP is standing by its broadcast of the film and has not removed “Among Neighbors” from its streaming platform.
Speaking to The Algemeiner, Potash insisted that “Among Neighbors” is “not an anti-Polish film.”
“I think there is plenty in the film for Poles to look at and be proud of,” he explained. “And that would include the story of the man who forged papers for Jews in Gniewoszów and saved the lives of at least nine people by giving them false papers that could make them appear to be not Jewish, so they can flee Poland and get to safety. In addition to including this story in the film, we contacted Yad Vashem and told them we had someone to add to the Righteous Among the Nations. And we made that happen. In 2018, he was inducted posthumously. We felt like this individual deserves that special honor.”
Potash added that Polish viewers can also be proud of Radecka “because she showed a lot of courage overcoming overwhelming pressure from the murderers, and later the politicians, who tried to silence her.” He criticized “extreme nationalists” in Poland who are “only concerned with the fact that this film also pokes some very large holes in a narrow and oversimplified view that some in Poland have of themselves and their national identity, especially how it relates to World War II.”
The filmmaker said he was not the least bit surprised about the political backlash that the film has received in Poland, considering the “very divided and politically charged atmosphere in Poland, especially around their World War II history.”
“There is a popular national myth in Poland that during World War II, Poles were only heroes or victims. Nothing else,” he said. “I think for many years, children and adults in Poland have largely been taught and fed this myth … Even today, roughly half the country is still clinging to a fantasy version of history that denies the extent to which Poles were complicit in either pointing out to Nazis where Jews were hiding or doing much worse, such as is revealed in my film, which is that some Poles continued to kill Jews even after the war was over, the Nazis were defeated and gone.”
“The reality is that when World War II was over, Holocaust survivors came back to their shtetls [a small Jewish town or village] seeking out others who may have survived, wondering, ‘Can we regroup here? Is it even possible to restart our lives in the towns that we loved and where we’ve lived our entire lives?’ And these murders that took place across Poland told them, ‘Absolutely not. You are not welcome. You cannot restart, you cannot continue life in the shtetl.’”
“Among Neighbors” is currently playing in select US theaters and film festivals. It won the Audience Award at the San Francisco Independent Film Festival, three awards from the Teaneck International Film Festival, and the Jewish Film Institute’s Envision Award. Still, Potash told The Algemeiner that the film has received negative reactions from some streaming platforms and major film festivals. He shared a story of a major streamer that told him the documentary was not “broad enough” for their platform.
“To be not ‘broad enough’ sounds like a nicer way of saying ‘too Jewish,’” Potash said. “I worked really hard to try to make this film as universal as possible. And I think the themes of can we confront out history honestly, even the parts that are difficult, that applies across the board to just about every country and society in the world. Unfortunately, releasing this film during this post-Oct. 7 [2023] environment that been really, really challenging. A lot of major festivals and streamers don’t want to get near content that’s seen as ‘too Jewish.’”
While TVP remains under investigation by the National Broadcasting Council of Poland for airing “Among Neighbors,” Potash encourages Poles to see the documentary for themselves and make their own judgements about the film.
“Don’t believe all the out of context ranting about the film that’s coming from political extremists and historical revisionists in Poland,” he explained. “I think it’s important for people to see this film because it gets into the real complexities of how history actually unfolded. It resists the simple narrative of: ‘We were heroes, and these were the villains, and these were the victims.’ It wasn’t always so black and white; so simple. The real stories that came out of this situation were quite complex. And those simplistic narratives don’t always fit.”
The USC Shoah Foundation — founded in 1994 by Steven Spielberg with the goal of recording, preserving, and sharing testimonies related to the Holocaust — has partnered with the JFCS Holocaust Center to create an educational curriculum so “Among Neighbors” can be used in classrooms as part of Holocaust education. A portion of revenue generated by the film benefits the JFCS Holocaust Center.
Watch the trailer for “Among Neighbors” below.