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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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Antisemitism in Switzerland Hits Alarming Levels as Online Incidents Surge, Reports Warn
A pro-Hamas demonstration in Zurich, Switzerland, Oct. 28, 2023. Photo: IMAGO/dieBildmanufaktur via Reuters Connect
Antisemitism in Switzerland surged to alarming levels last year, with two reports released on Tuesday warning that hostility and violence targeting Jews are intensifying across the country amid the broader fallout from war involving Israel in the Middle East.
On Tuesday, the Intercommunity Coordination Against Antisemitism and Defamation (CICAD) released its 2025 annual report on hate crimes, documenting a 36 percent rise in antisemitic incidents against the local Jewish community in French-speaking Switzerland compared to 2024.
With a total of 2,438 antisemitic acts last year, CICAD’s latest report marks the highest level of such incidents since the organization began monitoring them in 2003.
Based on the latest data, the association warned of a worsening trend, with incidents classified as “grave and serious” rising 16 percent — from 109 cases in 2024 to 127 in 2025.
This week, the Swiss Federation of Jewish Communities (SIG), in collaboration with the Foundation Against Racism and Antisemitism (GRA), also released their annual report on antisemitic outrages in German-, Italian-, and Romansh-speaking Switzerland for the past year.
Their latest data also shows that antisemitism “remains at a persistently high level” across the country, with tensions further fueled by the ongoing war in the Middle East.
“Since Oct. 7, 2023, the war in the Middle East has been the main long-term trigger for antisemitic incidents in Switzerland,” the organizations wrote in their report, referring to the Hamas-led invasion of and massacre across southern Israel more than two years ago.
“This influence remained significant in 2025. No return to pre-Oct. 7 levels has been observed to date,” they continued.
SIG and GRA’s latest report found the biggest surge of antisemitic activity in online spaces, with 2,185 incidents recorded in 2025 — an increase of nearly 37 percent from 1,596 the previous year.
Most incidents took place on the Telegram messaging app, with online newspaper comments coming in second, and the bulk of the reported content centered on conspiracy theories.
With such figures, the report warned that antisemitism is no longer an isolated occurrence but a structural issue, cautioning against the normalization of antisemitic rhetoric.
Even though the study found that real-world antisemitic incidents fell to 177 in 2025 from 221 in 2024 — a decrease of roughly 20 percent — the number remains about three times higher than levels recorded before the Oct. 7 atrocities.
The GRA and SIG urged local authorities to ensure the sustainable protection of Jewish life in Switzerland, calling for long-term security measures, increased investment in prevention and education, and a stronger commitment to monitoring antisemitic threats.
“Effectively combating antisemitism is not a one-off task, but an ongoing responsibility of the state and society,” the report said.
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DOGE Staffers Used ChatGPT to Cut Holocaust History Grants During Counter-DEI Purges: Lawsuit
Elon Musk holds up a chainsaw onstage during the Conservative Political Action Conference (CPAC) in National Harbor, Maryland, US, Feb. 20, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Nathan Howard
The US Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) relied on the ChatGPT large language model program when deciding to cut grants for Jewish-related history programs, including one focused on violence against women during the Holocaust, according to a new class-action lawsuit.
DOGE staffer Justin Fox is named as one of the defendants in the suit filed in US federal court on Friday by the Authors Guild, which alleges that he was the one who developed the method of using ChatGPT prompts to determine which grants from the National Endowment for the Humanities (NEH) — also a defendant — to cut in the name of eliminating any programs related to Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) initiatives.
Fox said in a deposition that he regarded any grant related to a minority group as qualifying as “DEI” and thus up for elimination. When asked about a grant he chose to cancel related to violence against women during the Holocaust, he responded, “It’s a Jewish — specifically focused on Jewish culture and amplifying the marginalized voices of the females in that culture.” Fox added, “It’s inherently related to DEI for that reason.”
The Trump administration has made a point of targeting DEI programs, especially on university campuses, arguing they foster bigotry by replacing merit with identity-based preferences. Many Jewish groups have criticized DEI initiatives for often excluding Jews, ignoring antisemitism, or characterizing Jews as white “oppressors” rather than as a historically oppressed minority group.
The lawsuit alleges that Fox and his fellow DOGE staffer Nathan Cavanaugh “made and executed the termination decision without any legal authority conferred by Congress. There is no jurisdictional barrier to vacating these unlawful terminations, and permanent relief is warranted.”
One of the projects targeted by DOGE was a translation project titled In the Shadow of the Holocaust: Short Fiction by Jewish Writers From the Soviet Union, which the lawsuit describes as “a critical, annotated translation into English of Yiddish and Russian works written in the aftermath of the most significant Jewish tragedy of the 20th century.”
ChatGPT put the book on the chopping block, stating that “this anthology explores Jewish writers’ engagement with the Holocaust in the USSR.”
According to the suit, the DOGE cuts “are unconstitutional several times over. The record establishes, without genuine factual dispute, that the terminations violated the First Amendment by targeting grants for their viewpoints and perceived political associations; that they violated the equal protection guarantee by classifying grants based on race, sex, and other constitutionally protected characteristics.”
DOGE also allegedly targeted Catholic efforts to promote Holocaust studies. The suit notes that another grant Fox and Cavanaugh chopped was support for the National Catholic Center for Holocaust Education at Seton Hill University.
In a deposition, NEH’s acting chair Michael McDonald said he did not know DOGE had relied on ChatGPT and rejected including Holocaust-related grants under DEI. He also claimed DOGE ignored his disagreements. DOGE possessed the final say about which projects to cut.
In response to the question “In your view, does this grant relate to DEI?” McDonald answered “no.” When the lawyer followed up with “would you consider this to be wasteful spend?” he replied “I would not, no.”
Since the NEH’s founding in 1965, the agency has provided over $6 billion in grants to fund over 70,000 projects in all 50 states.
The lawsuit details that Fox and Cavanaugh lacked “any relevant background in the humanities, public or private grant administration, peer review, or government service of any kind prior to joining the administration.”
According to the filing, the two DOGE staffers met with McDonald and Assistant Chair for Programs Adam Wolfson on March 12. However, Fox and Cavanaugh “entirely controlled the process of selecting grants to terminate and executing the terminations — their approach was top-down, viewpoint- and race-based, and indifferent to the views of NEH leadership or the ordinary processes of grant administration.”
DOGE’s mastermind, billionaire Elon Musk, has a professional rivalry with Sam Altman, the CEO of OpenAI, which developed ChatGPT.
Musk faced multiple controversies last year involving alleged antisemitism, Nazis, and the Holocaust. Following his decision to make a gesture at a Jan. 20 rally which many interpreted as resembling a “Sieg Heil”-style salute, the Anti-Defamation League (ADL) initially defended the billionaire before criticizing his choice to promote Holocaust humor on his X social media platform.
“We’ve said it hundreds of times before and we will say it again: the Holocaust was a singularly evil event, and it is inappropriate and offensive to make light of it. Elon Musk, the Holocaust is not a joke,” Jonathan Greenblatt, the ADL’s CEO and National Director, wrote on X in response to Musk.
Musk faced criticism days later when addressing a gathering of Germany’s far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD) party, where he said, “There is too much focus on past guilt, and we need to move beyond that.” Critics decried the comments, arguing they minimized or dismissed the Holocaust.
“The remembrance and acknowledgement of the dark past of the country and its people should be central in shaping the German society,” Dani Dayan, chairman of Yad Vashem, Israel’s national memorial to the Holocaust, said in response to Musk on X. He warned that not focusing on learning lessons from the past is “an insult to the victims of Nazism and a clear danger to the democratic future of Germany.”
In July, following an upgrade to Musk’s ChatGPT rival Grok, the program began promoting antisemitic conspiracy theories and in one instance labeled itself “MechaHitler.”
Two months later, the Center for Countering Digital Hate (CCDH) and the Jewish Council for Public Affairs (JCPA) released a report revealing the rise of antisemitism on X.
The report utilized OpenAI’s since-discontinued GPT-4o model and drew on a year-long investigation to find that “679,000 posts sampled violate X’s policies on antisemitism, and posts identified as antisemitic got 193 million views in the 11 months of this report, despite X’s promises to limit their visibility. Also, antisemitic conspiracies appear to perform disproportionately well on X, constituting 59% of posts in the sample but 73% of likes.”
The report noted that X had allowed for the rise of so-called “antisemitic influencers” and that “approximately one third of all likes on antisemitic posts were on posts shared by just 10 antisemitism ‘influencers.’ 9 out of these 10 ‘antisemitism influencers’ have more followers on X than any other platform, and 6 out of the 10 are verified on X. 3 out of the 10 profit from paid subscriptions on X.”
Amid the criticism, Musk has denied accusations of antisemitism and said his priority is to make X a bastion of free speech. He visited Israel in late 2023, weeks after Hamas’s Oct. 7 invasion of the Jewish state, and Auschwitz in January 2024. Following the latter trip, Musk said he was “frankly naive” about antisemitism and described himself as “Jewish by association.”
The Tesla CEO and X owner vowed to wear around his neck a dog tag reading “Bring Them Home” that was given to him by a parent of one of the Israeli hostages held in Gaza until all the captives were returned home.
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Trump’s Iran dithering puts Israel in an unprecedented position
Israel today finds itself in an unusual strategic position: It’s fighting a war that could last for weeks — or end almost instantly. And someone else will decide which way things go.
Down one path lies a prolonged campaign against Iran, with the possibility of regime change. Israel’s leaders openly hope that the campaign will enable the Iranian people to overthrow their rulers. Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu recently put it bluntly: “Our aspiration is to enable the Iranian people to cast off the yoke of tyranny.”
Down the other is a rapid cessation of the conflict, with incomplete results. President Donald Trump has already suggested that the conflict may be nearing completion. In a Monday interview with CBS News, Trump said bluntly: “The war is very complete, pretty much.”
Yet in the very same news cycle, Trump offered a strikingly different message. When asked whether the war was essentially over or just beginning, he replied: “I think you could say both.” He suggested he was considering the possibility of taking control of the Strait of Hormuz, the critical global oil chokepoint, and warned on social media that if Iran interfered with shipping there, the United States would strike it “20 times harder than they have been hit thus far.”
Those contradictory statements capture the extraordinary ambiguity surrounding the conflict. And that ambiguity has left Israel in a profoundly complicated position. Now, it must be prepared simultaneously for two radically different scenarios: a prolonged war whose outcome could reshape the Middle East, or a sudden declaration that the conflict is over.
A successful start, and mixed outlook
So far, Israeli and American forces have struck deep inside Iran, decapitating the regime and crippling major parts of military infrastructure. Iran has retaliated with missile and drone attacks against Israel, most of which have been intercepted by Israel’s air defenses, but some of which have brought tragedy.
In recent days, Tehran has picked a new supreme leader: Mojtaba Khamenei, a hardliner and the son of the longtime despot killed on the first day of the war.
If the conflict continues on this trajectory, the implications could be enormous. Sustained pressure on Iran could destabilize the regime. Even without that best-case scenario outcome, a prolonged campaign could dramatically weaken the Islamic Republic.
But a long war carries real dangers. Iran still possesses missiles capable of reaching Israel, and has been firing them daily. Israel’s multilayered defense system intercepts most of them, but not all. A cluster missile strike on Monday killed two; if the war continues, more deaths are likely to follow. And the longer the war lasts, the greater the statistical likelihood that one missile will slip through and cause a true catastrophe.
Even without a disaster, the cumulative strain on Israeli society is unmistakable. The acquisition of weapons and callup of reserve troops is further disrupting an economy that has been in various states of disruption since Oct. 7, 2023. It is also measured in the unquantifiable damage that the stress is causing pretty much every person in the country.
Many businesses are closed, and public life is minimal. Missile alerts — often in the middle of the night — repeatedly send millions of civilians into shelters (and, for a privileged minority, reinforced “safe rooms” in their home). Many offices are half empty. Parents struggle to work while caring for children who are afraid to leave the house.
With ordinary life on hold, a prolonged war could therefore become a grinding economic and psychological burden, even if Israel continues to win militarily.
Yet Israelis broadly support the war. A poll last week found that 93% of the populace backs the operation.
How will they respond if Trump abruptly pulls the plug?
War by whim
To a degree that is profoundly unusual in the history of democratic countries, the trajectory of the war depends largely on one person.
Trump has shown himself to be prone to making unilateral decisions with enormous consequences for the international order without undergoing any of the standard processes.
He launched sweeping tariff wars that upended decades of bipartisan policy on the benefits of relatively free trade. He revived the idea that the U.S. should acquire Greenland — and for weeks refused to rule out using force against Denmark, a NATO ally, to achieve that end. Earlier this year, American forces kidnapped Venezuela’s president, after which Trump openly stated that the U.S. needs “access” to the country’s oil resources.
Even the rhetoric surrounding the Iran campaign is sui generis. In recounting why American forces had sunk Iranian naval vessels rather than capturing them, he approvingly relayed that he was supposedly told by commanders that it was simply “more fun to sink them.”
If Trump decides he is done, and the Islamic Republic limps on, Israelis will be left with the frustrating sense of having missed a huge opportunity to fundamentally alter an unacceptable situation in which Iran is constantly scheming to cause harm.
Iran has been, essentially, a fly the size of an elephant buzzing in Israel’s ear. Yes, the war will be spun as victory either way — but if it ends tomorrow, it will end without achieving all it could. And the current state of affairs, in which Israel effectively has a green light from a U.S. president as indifferent to convention as Trump, may not return.
A reopened Lebanon front
One complication that could outlast either of these scenarios is Hezbollah. The Lebanon-based militia, a regional proxy for Iran, joined the fighting almost immediately, launching rockets and drones toward northern Israel. That intervention may give Israel a strategic opportunity to address a problem that has festered since post-Oct. 7 fighting ended on the Lebanon front in November, 2024.
When that conflict concluded, the Lebanese government pledged that it would dismantle and disarm Hezbollah, finally restoring the state’s monopoly on force. In practice, little changed. Hezbollah remained entrenched in parts of central Lebanon, albeit no longer along Israel’s border.
Israeli patience with this renewed status quo has steadily eroded. But the devastation of the Gaza war had badly damaged Israel’s international standing, making Jerusalem see a renewed Lebanon campaign as diplomatically difficult.
Now, the regional picture has shifted. Lebanese officials — including the country’s president — have increasingly signaled that Hezbollah’s continued militarization is unsustainable. Beirut has in recent days already taken steps to curb Iranian influence, including by restricting activity by the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps. Senior figures have made clear that Hezbollah’s role as an armed “state within a state” cannot continue indefinitely.
Elements of Lebanon’s government clearly hope Israel might finish a task they cannot accomplish themselves — the decisive debilitation of Hezbollah — though preferably without bringing another devastating war onto Lebanese soil.
What this means: Israel is likely to be at war, in some way or another, for some time to come. Trump may call time on the war with Iran; he has no such power when it comes to Israel’s own border conflicts.
But the biggest challenges, and biggest changes, facing Israel belong with the Iran war, which has the potential to truly redefine the region. Netanyahu may wield some influence over Trump, but the decision rests with the White House.
This is an unprecedented state of affairs in Israel’s history: A perilous war of aggression, conducted without real Israeli control. The cost of this is whiplash, as the country has no choice but to live with both possibilities at once: a long war that could reshape the region — or a sudden declaration that the war has been won. Netanyahu may be able to influence Trump one way or the other — but he won’t make the call.
For Israelis, that is the rub in the hyper-alliance with Trump’s U.S. Next month, as Israel celebrates its 78th Independence Day, that independence will feel a tad fictitious. An extreme dependency lies bare for all to see, and it will outlive Trump. His successor may not be as munificent.
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