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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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U2’s New EP References Holocaust, Hitler, Women’s Rights Protests in Iran, Deceased Palestinian Activist

The Irish rock band U2. Photo: BANG Showbiz

The Irish rock band U2 released an EP on Wednesday titled “Days of Ash” that addresses a wide range of topics, including the “Women, Life, Freedom” uprising in Iran, the Holocaust, the killing of a Palestinian activist, ICE raids in the United States, and the Russia-Ukraine war.

“Days of Ash,” which was released on Ash Wednesday and is now available on all streaming platforms, is the first time U2 is releasing a collection of new music since 2017. The EP features five new tracks – “American Obituary,” “The Tears Of Things,” “Song Of The Future,” “One Life At A Time,” and “Yours Eternally” (ft. Ed Sheeran & Taras Topolia) – and the recitation of the poem “Wildpeace,” written by Israeli poet Yehuda Amichai. The poem is read on the EP by Nigerian artist Adeola Fayehun. It begins with the following lines: “Not the peace of a ceasefire / not even the vision of the wolf and the lamb / but rather as in the heart when the excitement is over / and you can talk only about a great weariness.”

In a new interview with the U2 fanzine “Propaganda,” which is being relaunched as a one-off digital zine to accompany the new EP, lead singer Bono talked about the music referencing Nazi leader Adolf Hitler, concerns about antisemitism, his condemnation of the Hamas-led terrorist attack in southern Israel on Oct. 7, 2023, and his criticism of Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu for how he is managing the Israel-Hamas war.

The title for “The Tears of Things” is a reference to the 2025 book by Richard Rohr titled The Tears of Things: Prophetic Wisdom for an Age of Outrage. The book is about the Jewish prophets and imagines a conversation between Italian sculptor and artist Michelangelo and his marble statue of the Bible’s King David.

“If you put a man into a cage and rattle it long enough/A man becomes the kind of rage that cannot be locked up … The tears of things/Let the desert be unfrozen,” Bono sings in the track. He also sings about “six million voices silenced in just four years,” which is a reference to the six million people killed in the Holocaust. Bono told “Propaganda” the same song includes a reference to a true story about Mussolini and Hitler meeting. Hitler’s name in the song is replaced by the word “shadow,” Bono explained.

“Mussolini came to see me/A shadow by his side,” Bono sings. “Church bells ring, a vanishing/Then the vanishing denied/Six million voices silenced in just four years/The silent song of Christendom/So loud everybody hears.”

The track concludes with the lyrics: “River, sea and mountain/Desert, dust and snow/Everybody is my people/Let my people go.”

Bono told “Propaganda” it is “the moral force of Judaism that helped shape Western civilization.”

“Some of my favorite bits … some of the greatest hits of Western civilization … were gifted to us by brilliant Jewish minds … mathematicians, scientists … writers … not to mention singwriters,” added the singer-songwriter, who said he comes from a “Judeo-Christian tradition.”

“There has never been a moment when we have needed the moral force of Judaism more than right now,” he explained. “And yet, it has rarely in modern times been under such a siege. From where I stand, as a person with a limited view, Judaism, one of the great and noble religions, is being slandered by far-right fundamentalists from within its own community … I could argue the same about Christianity or Islam.”

Antisemitism “has been a scourge for millennia,” and “was rising long before Oct. 7 and the resulting war in Gaza,” Bono said. “As with Islamophobia, antisemitism must be countered every time we witness it. The rape, murder, and abduction of Israelis on Oct. 7 was evil, but self-defense is no defense for the sweeping brutality of Netanyahu’s response,” he continued.

The musician also talked about how the Israel-Hamas war has resulted in “deep knock-on effects for the Jewish diaspora and their safety … As if all Jews are to blame for the actions of Netanyahu, Smotrich, and Ben Gvir.” He was referring to Israel’s Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich and National Security Minister Itamar Ben Gvir.

When asked later on in the interview about criticism he has faced, especially in Ireland, for not speaking out enough against the conflict in Gaza, Bono said, “I’ve written on Israel and Gaza, but in terms of actions I’ve been focused on the things I know more about.”

Bono also told “Propaganda” that the song “One Life at a Time” on the new EP is inspired by Palestinian activist and filmmaker Awdah Hathaleen, whose was killed last year by an extremist Israeli settler in the West Bank. Hathaleen was featured in the Oscar-winning documentary “No Other Land,” which focuses on Israel’s demolition of Palestinian homes in the West Bank village of Masafer Yatta and criticizes Israel’s military actions. The lyrics of “One Life at a Time” do not reference Hathaleen by name, but the band’s lyric video for the track features a picture of Hathaleen’s face, as well as image of Israel’s West Bank security barrier and the Dome of the Rock.

“Song of the Future” honors the 2022 Women, Life, Freedom movement and uprising in Iran as well as the protesters killed, including 16-year-old Iranian Sarina Esmailzadeh, who was beaten to death by Iranian security forces. Esmailzadeh is the “star of our song,” Bono told “Propaganda.”

“This new EP is a response to current events, inspired by the many extraordinary and courageous people fighting on the frontlines of freedom,” U2 said. “Four of the five tracks are about individuals – a mother, a father, a teenage girl whose lives were brutally cut short – and a soldier who’d rather be singing but is ready to die for the freedom of his country.”

The first track of the EP, “American Obituary,” is dedicated to Renee Good, a mother of three and protester who was fatally shot on Jan. 7 in Minneapolis, Minnesota, by a US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agent during a protest.

The track “Yours Eternally” is about the war in Ukraine.

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Jewish Peoplehood Shouldn’t Be Up for Debate

Thousands of participants and spectators are gathering along Fifth Avenue to express support for Israel during the 59th Annual Israel Day Parade in NYC, on June 2, 2024. Photo: Melissa Bender via Reuters Connect

The world’s largest association of psychologists is currently debating whether Jews are allowed to describe themselves as a people.

As crazy as that sounds, this is not a joke. It is a controversy unfolding right now among members of the American Psychological Association (APA), as a group of Jewish psychologists has sought recognition similar to that enjoyed by other ethnic minority groups within the association. The APA’s governing council is set to vote on this question imminently.  What should have been an uncontroversial measure has instead become an argument over identity itself — one that reveals a deeper problem in how discrimination is understood today.

We are two Jewish women who have direct, personal experiences with antisemitism, and whose families historically have been discriminated against simply because they were Jewish. Our families’ and our own experiences, as Jews who faced persecution and as advocates for other vulnerable communities, make it especially painful to see our Jewish identities and need for representation and protection questioned in this way.

The opponents from ethnic caucuses within the APA that already have formal representation argued that Jews are a “majority white” population and therefore do not need such recognition. They asserted that Jewish identity is only religious, not ethnic; that antisemitism is not a distinct concern; and that acknowledging Jewish peoplehood would somehow undermine efforts to confront white supremacy.

At a time when antisemitism has reached historic levels in the US and globally, these claims are not only deeply concerning but also evidence of a larger pattern of discrimination in professional and academic organizations and labor unions.

Like any ethnic or religious minority, Jews should not have to justify their existence to others. No one should be told that their identity is somehow invalid because it does not fit neatly into racial categories or prevailing political narratives. Yet that is precisely what is happening here.

Jewish identity has always been multifaceted, encompassing ancestry, culture, history, and, for some, religion. Jews today include families from the Middle East and North Africa, Ethiopia, Europe, and the Americas, observant and secular alike. But the specifics matter less than the principle: In every other context, communities are trusted to define their own lived experience and identity. Here, that authority is being claimed by those outside the community, ironically, inside a profession dedicated to compassionate and nuanced understanding of identity and trauma.

To understand why this moment is so troubling, one must understand something distinctive about antisemitism: It adapts to the assumptions of the era.

At times throughout our history Jews were persecuted as a religious group, forced to convert, be expelled, or be killed. At others, we were targeted as a race, culminating in Nazi racist ideology used to justify the extermination of 6 million Jews. One of our aunts (Eveline Shekhman’s), Rocha Vilenski, was forcibly transported from the Kovno ghetto in Lithuania to Stutthof and then Auschwitz. Her transport papers listed “Jude” as her race, a clear marker that she was not considered “white.”

In other periods Jews have been accused of being foreigners, disloyal to their countries of origin. And sometimes, even simultaneously, Jews are painted as the ultimate insiders, wielding outsized power to manipulate society in pursuit of some untoward end. The accusations are rarely consistent, but they do paint a pattern: Jews are blamed for whatever is most feared or condemned in society at that particular moment.

Today, in some spaces, the prevailing narrative is that Jews are overly powerful, privileged, and white. From there flows a natural conclusion: that Jews cannot meaningfully experience discrimination and therefore require no specific protections.

The logic is familiar even if the language is new.

A prejudice that changes form to match prevailing moral categories is harder to recognize. But that does not make it any less real — only adaptable. Indeed, antisemitism’s shapeshifting nature is part of what makes it so pernicious and difficult to combat.

Psychologists help shape how institutions recognize bias, how patients’ experiences are interpreted, and how discrimination is measured across society. When a field responsible for understanding prejudice treats a community’s lived experience as a definitional debate, protection becomes conditional on whether the group fits an approved framework. Such a dynamic is anathema to the discipline of psychology.

At a moment when confidence in expert institutions is fragile, credibility depends on applying principles morally, and consistently. Members of the APA Council have an opportunity to reaffirm a simple principle: Communities deserve the same respect for self-definition that psychology teaches in every other context.

Sara Colb is Director of Advocacy at the Anti-Defamation League. Eveline Shekhman is Chief Executive Officer of AJMA, The American Jewish Medical Association.

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New Location of London Bakery Founded by Israeli Vandalized With Anti-Israel, ‘Free Gaza’ Graffiti

April 4, 2025, London, England, United Kingdom: Exterior view of a Gail’s bakery in Covent Garden. Photo: ZUMA Press Wire via Reuters Connect

A newly opened London branch of a popular bakery founded by an Israeli baker was vandalized on Wednesday night with anti-Israel graffiti as the chain was accused of funding “Israeli tech.”

Photos and videos shared on social media show that the new Gail’s Bakery location, which opened this week near the tube station in the Archway neighborhood, had splattered red paint on its walls and graffiti that read “Free Gaza,” along with another message that said “Boycott Gail’s Funds Israeli Tech.”

Police were called to the scene on Wednesday night, but the vandals had fled before officers arrived, according to a spokesperson for the Metropolitan Police.

“Our bakeries are places for the community, and no one – whether that’s our bakery teams or our customers – should feel targeted or unsafe,” a spokesperson for Gail’s told The Algemeiner following the vandalism. “We are a British business with no specific connections to any country or government outside the UK. Our focus right now is on working with the authorities and making sure our people feel safe and supported.”

An anti-Israel demonstration also took place at the same Gail’s location this week, according to multiple reports. Videos online show protesters standing outside Gail’s holding signs including a massive banner that said, “Boycott Israel for Genocide and War Crimes in Gaza.” Another sign held by a protester read “No to Gail’s” and accused the American investment firm Bain Capital, which acquired a majority stake in Gail’s parent company Bread Holdings in 2021, of having “links to Israeli war-tech.”

Bain Capital was among the more than 200 venture capital funds that signed an open letter in support of Israel following the Hamas-led massacre in southern Israel on Oct. 7, 2023. The company has investments in Israel, including in cybersecurity, artificial intelligence, and software companies. In October 2025, CTech reported that Bain Capital had invested more than $150 million into Israeli companies over the past year.

Gail’s was founded by Israeli baker Gail Mejia in the 1990s and serves freshly handmade bread, pastries, and cakes. Its first store opened in 2005 in London’s Hampstead High Street with the help of Israeli entrepreneur Ran Avidan, and today, there are hundreds of locations in and around London. Gail’s was voted the best bakery chain in Britain last year. Meija and Avidan no longer have any involvement in the company.

The European Jewish Congress condemned the “deeply concerning” anti-Israel graffiti found on Gail’s Bakery. “Targeting a local business because of perceived Jewish or Israeli associations reflects a troubling normalization of hostility that must be firmly rejected,” the EJC wrote in a post on X. “Such acts have no place in our societies and must be unequivocally condemned.”

In a statement given to The Algemeiner, the Campaign Against Antisemitism called on London’s Metropolitan Police to ensure those responsible for the vandalism are punished for their actions.

“In case anyone required further proof that this is not a peaceful movement, here it is. This is yet more blatant thuggery from pro-Palestine extremists trying to pass off intimidation and vandalism, driven by a blind hatred for the world’s only Jewish state, as progressive activism,” said a CAA spokesperson. “Smashing up a branch of Gail’s does nothing to advance peace in the Middle East; it simply spreads hate on British streets.”

Last summer, hundreds of people signed a petition criticizing the opening of a Gail’s in east London and several of them said they opposed the new location because of the bakery’s “Zionist” ties, according to The Jewish Chronicle. In a statement released to The Guardian at the time, the company reiterated that it is “a UK-based business with no specific connections to any country or government outside of the UK and does not fund Israel.”

In an interview with The Times in 2024, Gail’s co-founder and CEO Tom Molnar denied the “ludicrous” accusations that the company is owned by Israel or funds the Jewish state.

“Gail’s proudly has Jewish roots and there’s plenty of stuff out there celebrating our heritage and history, but it’s not true it’s Israel-owned,” he said. “There’s some just crazy stuff on the web thinking we are funding Israel, which is just completely ridiculous. We’re a wholly UK-based business, paying UK taxes, it’s just ludicrous and I think it needs to be called out.”

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