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A new book made me appreciate Jewish Sunday schools — and the volunteer women who have powered them
(JTA) — As a kid I went to Sunday school at our Reform synagogue. I didn’t hate it as much as my peers did, but let’s just say there were literally dozens of other things I would have preferred to do on a weekend morning.
As a Jewish adult, I had a vague understanding that Sunday school was a post-World War II invention, part of the assimilation and suburbanization of American Jews (my synagogue was actually called Suburban Temple). With our parents committed to public schools and having moved away from the dense urban enclaves where they were raised, our Jewish education was relegated to Sunday mornings and perhaps a weekday afternoon. The Protestant and Catholic kids went to their own religious supplementary schools, and we Jewish kids went to ours.
In her new book “Jewish Sunday Schools,” Laura Yares backdates this story by over a century. Subtitled “Teaching Religion in Nineteenth-Century America,” the book describes how Sunday schools were the invention of pioneering educators such as Rebecca Gratz, who founded the first Sunday school for Jewish children in Philadelphia in 1838. As such, they were responses by a tiny minority to distinctly 19th-century challenges — namely, how to raise their children to be Jews in a country dominated by a Protestant majority, and how to express their Judaism in a way compatible with America’s idea of religious freedom.
Although Sunday schools would become the “principal educational organization” of the Reform movement, Yares shows that the model was adopted by traditionalists as well. And she also argues that 20th-century historians, in focusing on the failures of Sunday schools to promote Jewish “continuity,” discounted the contributions of the mostly volunteer corps of women educators who made them run. Meanwhile, the supplementary school remains the dominant model for Jewish education among non-Orthodox American Jews, despite recent research showing its precipitous decline.
I picked up “Jewish Sunday Schools” hoping to find out who gets the blame for ruining my Sunday mornings. I came away with a new appreciation for the women whose “important and influential work,” Yares writes, “extended far beyond the classrooms in which they worked.”
Yares is assistant professor of Religious Studies at Michigan State University, with a joint appointment in the MSU Program for Jewish Studies. Raised in Birmingham, England, she has degrees from Oxford University and a doctorate from Georgetown University.
Our conversation was edited for length and clarity.
Tell me how your book came to be about the 19th century as opposed to the common 20th-century story of suburbanization.
There’s a real gap in American Jewish history when it comes to the 19th century, chiefly because so many American Jews today trace their origins back to the generation who arrived between 1881 and 1924, the mass migration of Jews from from Eastern Europe. So there’s a sense that that’s when American Jewish history began. Of course, that’s not true at all.
The American Jewish community dates back to the 17th century and there was much innovation that laid the foundations for what would become institutionalized in the 20th century.
Sunday school gets a very bad rap among most historians of American Judaism. If they’ve treated it at all, they tend to be dismissive — you know, there was no substance, they just taught kids the 10 Commandments, it was run by these unprofessional volunteer female teachers, so it was feminized and feminine.
But there’s also a lot of celebration of Rebecca Gratz, who founded the first Sunday school for Jewish children.
That’s the first indication I had that there might be more of a story here. Rebecca Gratz is lionized as being such a visionary and being so inventive in developing this incredible volunteer model for Jewish education for an immigrant generation that was mostly from Western Europe. And yet, by the beginning of the 20th century, [Jewish historians] say it has no value. So what’s the story there?
Two other things led me on the path to thinking that there was more of a story in this 19th-century moment. I did my Ph.D in Washington, D.C. And as I was searching through the holdings of the Library of Congress, there were tons and tons of Jewish catechisms.
“Sunday school gets a very bad rap among most historians of American Judaism,” says Dr. Laura Yares, author of the new book, “Jewish Sunday Schools.” (Courtesy of the author)
A catechism is a kind of creed, right? It’s a statement of religious beliefs. “These are things we believe as Jews.”
So Jewish catechisms had that, but they were also philosophical meditations in many ways. Typically, the first question of the catechism was, what is religion? And then the second question is, what is Jewish religion?
And then I started reading them. They were question-and-answer summaries of the whole of Judaism: belief, practices, holidays, Bible, you name it, that the children were expected to memorize. This idea that you’ve got to cram these kids with knowledge went against this historiographic dismissal of this period as being very thin and that kids were not really learning anything. The idea that children had a lot to learn is something that Sunday school educators actually really wrestle with during this period.
What was the other thing that led you to pursue this subject?
When I was beginning to research my dissertation, I was working as a Hebrew school teacher in a large Reform Hebrew school in Washington, D.C. And I remember very distinctively the rabbi coming in and addressing the teachers at the start of the school year. He said, “I don’t care if a student comes through this Hebrew school and they don’t remember anything that they learned. But I care that at the end of the year they feel like the temple is a place that they want to be, that they feel like they have relationships there and they have an (he didn’t use this word) ‘affective’ [emotional] connection.”
And so I’m sitting there by day at the Library of Congress, reading these catechisms that are saying, “Cram their heads with knowledge.” What is the relationship between Jewish education as a place where one is supposed to acquire knowledge and a place where one is supposed to feel something and to develop affective relationships? The swing between those two poles was happening as far back as the 19th century.
You write that owing to gaps in the archives, it was really hard to get an idea of the classroom experience. But to the degree that there’s a typical classroom experience in the 1860s, 1870s and you’re the daughter or grandchild of probably German-speaking Jewish immigrants, maybe working or lower middle class, what would Sunday school be like? I’m guessing the teacher would be a woman. Are you reading the Bible in English or Hebrew?
You are probably going for an hour or two on a Sunday morning. It’s a big room, and your particular class would have a corner of the room. It’s quite chaotic. Most of the teachers were female volunteers. They were either young and unmarried, or older women whose children had grown. Except for the students who are preparing for confirmation — the grand kind of graduation ritual for Sunday schools. Those classes were typically taught by the rabbi, if there was a rabbi associated with the school.
There would be a lot of reading out loud to the students with students being expected to repeat back what they had heard or write it down so they had a copy for themselves. Often the day would begin with prayers said in English, and often the reading of the Torah portion, typically in English, although in many Sunday schools, we do have children reporting they learned bits of Hebrew by rote memorization. Or they memorized the first chapters of the book of Genesis, for example, but I’m not sure that they quite understood what they memorized. “Ein Keloheinu” is a song that often children tell us [in archival materials] that they had memorized in Hebrew. They probably would have learned at least Hebrew script, and a little bit of Hebrew decoding. But it is fair to say that if they were reading the Bible, they were reading it mostly in English, because you have to remember that most of the women who were volunteering to teach in these schools came of age in a generation where Hebrew education wasn’t extended to women.
What’s the goal of these Sunday schools?
The Sunday school movement arose because there was a whole generation of immigrant children who did not have access to Jewish education, because their parents didn’t have either the economic capital or the social capital to become part of the established Jewish community. They couldn’t afford a seat in the synagogue, they couldn’t afford to send their children to congregational all-day or every-afternoon schools [which were among the few options for Jewish education when Gratz opened the Philadelphia Sunday school]. Sunday schools are really a very innovative solution to a problem of a lack of resources.
You also write that the founders of these supplementary schools want to defend children against “predatory evangelists.”
That was how Rebecca Gratz described her goal when she created the first Sunday school. She was very, very worried about the Jewish kids who were not receiving any kind of Hebrew school education. She talks about Protestant missionaries and teachers who would go out onto the street ringing the bell for Sunday school and offering various kinds of trinkets, and Jewish kids would get kind of swept into their Sunday schools. There was a very concrete need to give Jewish children somewhere else to go.
So Gratz and the people who created the first Hebrew Sunday school in Philadelphia looked at what the Protestants were doing and they saw that Protestant Sunday schools were providing very accessible places where kids could go and get a basic primer in their religious tradition.
The approach was to teach Judaism as a religion, as opposed to Judaism as a people or culture, to demonstrate that being Jewish was as compatible as Protestantism with being wholly American.
That is certainly part of it. It’s a demonstration that Judaism is compatible with American public life. But I think there’s actually a much bigger claim that the Sunday schools are making. The claim is not only that Judaism is as good as Protestantism, but that Judaism does religion better than Protestantism. These rabbis who were writing catechisms and teaching confirmation classes were saying that Judaism does liberal religion better than liberal Protestants, liberal Catholics and other kinds of liberal denominations. You see the same sentiment in the Pittsburgh Platform as well, which is the foundational platform of the Reform movement written in the 1880s. Sunday schools take that idea and bring it down to a grassroots level.
There are many, many fewer Jews in America in much of the 19th century, before the waves of Eastern European immigrants arrived beginning in the 1880s They didn’t really have strength in numbers, or the kind of self-confidence to have a system of day schools, yeshivas or heders, the elementary schools for all-day or every day Jewish instruction.
And this is also a community that has grown up at the same time as the birth of public education in America, independent of churches. That really emerged beginning on the East Coast in the 1840s.This generation of Americans really believes in the power of public education to craft an American public. It’s a project that 19th-century American Jews believe in and want to sustain. So Sunday schools don’t just become the preferred Jewish model because of lack of resources, but because American Jews really believe in the idea of public education.
What happens at the beginning of the 20th century, with the arrival of Eastern Europeans with different models for Jewish education?
A new generation tries to reform Jewish education, led by a young educator from Palestine named Samson Benderly, who leads the new New York Bureau of Jewish Education. He tries to change American Jewish education to make it more professionalized, but to bring more traditionally inclined Jews on board he has to convince them that he doesn’t want to make more Sunday schools, because Sunday schools by the end of the 20th century had become very much associated with the Reform movement in a way that they weren’t when they were founded and for much of the 19th century.
A painting of Philadelphia philanthropist and Jewish education activist Rebecca Gratz by Thomas Sully. (The Rosenbach of the Free Library of Philadelphia)
Benderly is surveying the scene of recent immigrants living in New York City [tenements] and other kinds of downtown environments, and his proposal is to create these community institutions for these dense communities, where children can be taught Hebrew in Hebrew. His disciples also created Jewish camps as a way to get children out of the inner cities and develop the muscular Zionist ideal of healthy bodies and a robust sense of Jewish collectivity.
You write that Benderly’s vision is a sort of masculine response to the “feminizing” perception of the Sunday schools.
These women teachers are recognizing that they’re being criticized for the kind of thinness of the Jewish education that they’re teaching in comparison to other models, but in periodicals like The American Jewess women are writing back and saying, “But you didn’t teach us Hebrew! I didn’t get that opportunity as a woman, so what do you expect?” It’s really important to note that the women did the best that they could in the time that they had available, and that they were the product of opportunities that were denied to them.
What lessons did you learn about Sunday school and Hebrew school education in the 20th century that relate to your research into the 19th century?
The move that is so decisive for shaping American Jewish education is suburbanization. Rather than having a large immigrant generation who are living in these tight ethnic enclaves, you have American Jewish children who are predominantly growing up in the suburbs, and socializing with children from all sorts of different backgrounds who are attending public schools. The place that you go to get your Jewish education is the synagogue supplemental school, which becomes the dominant model for American Jewish education up until today. Benderly might reflect that it looks a lot more like the Sunday school movement of the 19th century than his vision.
Today’s model is really a religious model. And by that I mean that students go to Hebrew school primarily to kind of check a religious box, to learn about the thing that makes them distinctive religiously, and to achieve a religious coming-of-age marker, which is the bar, bat or b mitzvah. Certainly the curriculum today is more diverse, embracing more aspects of traditional Judaism then you would have seen in a 19th-century Sunday school: more Hebrew, more of a sense of Jewish peoplehood, ethnic identity and Zionism of course. But the question that American Jews are increasingly asking themselves is, is this a model that they still want? So you may have seen that the Jewish Education Project published a report recently on supplemental schools, which saw that enrollment has really, really declined.
Sunday schools are based on a vision of Judaism as a set of a religious commitments that American Jews actualize through belonging to a synagogue and sending their children to a synagogue or a religious school, where they will learn primarily a set of religious skills: the ability to read from the Torah, the ability to decode Hebrew, the ability to navigate the siddur.
Is that still the vision that most American Jews have for what Judaism means to them? I think increasingly the answer seems to be no.
How else did experience in a Hebrew school classroom influence you? Did you access anything else when you were writing the book?
I think about the number of college kids and graduate students and empty nesters who are either volunteering or earning minimum wage, working at Hebrew schools, all over the country. That’s the labor force of American Judaism. These people also bring so much to the table. There are a lot of skills, dispositions and knowledge that don’t tend to get taken very seriously because this is a workforce that just gets kind of put into the category of “oh, they’re part time.” That made me look really closely in the historical archives to see if I could find anything out about the women who are volunteering to teach in Sunday schools. And what I found out was that [many] were public school teachers. And they brought a lot to the table. It was women in fact who were really pushing to make the Sunday school curriculum more experiential and to move away from rote memorization.
As a historian formed by feminist methods, I find it really important to recognize that these women were giving over what they had, as opposed to critiquing them for not teaching in a more traditional way. I think we need to pay attention when women are being scapegoated for problems that are described as problems of Jewish continuity. It blinds us to the role that women’s volunteerism has played in American Jewish life. This whole Sunday school movement was possible only because these women volunteered their time and largely were not paid.
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Could a foie gras ban remove chopped liver from the deli menu?
Could an effort to defend ducks and curb the cruelty that some believe creates foie gras accidentally outlaw a favorite staple in Jewish delis? One Jewish resident of Washington D.C. fears that could be the case.
A measure on the ballot in Washington next Tuesday would bar the sale or distribution of “any fattened bird liver product within the District of Columbia.”
Activists say the legislation aims to ban the sale of any product resulting from force-feeding a bird, including foie gras. But the D.C. ordinance defines “fattened bird liver product” as “any food product or by-product made from the livers of birds fattened through any method or practice … regardless of marketing terminology.” It includes foie gras, pâtés, spreads, and processed meat products derived from the livers of “ducks, geese, chickens, turkeys, guineas, or squabs.”
“I am a fan of all things liver,” said Jordan Weissmann, an editor at the Progressive Policy Institute, who calls himself a libertarian when it comes to gastronomic matters. “I grew up eating chopped liver. I’m a fan of schmaltz and all pâtés, but there are much bigger issues facing Washington D.C. right now. So I was not going to get too fired up about this.”
Then a friend suggested he look at the language of the ordinance. Its lack of specificity, leaving enforcement up to interpretation, ruffled his feathers.
“My eyes popped out of my head,” he told the Forward. “It sounds like a sweeping ban. I immediately fired off a tweet.” That post and the conversation it generated has since gone viral, garnering thousands of views and hundreds of comments.
Pro-Animal DC, the campaign that drafted the ban, insists that’s not the intention. The law simply seeks to end the torture of farm-raised fowl.
“When laws are enforced this would not affect Jewish delis or chopped chicken liver,” said Natalie Fulton, media and content lead for Pro-Animal DC. She said when regulators enforce laws, they look at their entirety. They don’t look at “a sentence taken out of context.”
In addition to ending the sale of poultry products, the proposed ordinance also makes force-feeding birds illegal within the District. It doesn’t regulate possession of force-fed products or affect what Bubbe puts in the blender.
Fulton acknowledges that the definition of poultry, including chickens, is quite broad.
“We basically put that in there to make sure foie gras producers wouldn’t just shift to chickens. I’m not even sure it’s possible biologically. It safeguards if someone tries to get around the law that way.” If the initiative passes, she said, the City Council can clarify the language to prevent any confusion.
French for “fatty liver,” foie gras is the liver of a duck or goose that has been deliberately fattened by force-feeding, a process the industry calls gavage.
Workers insert a tube down the bird’s esophagus to pump in grain and fat, causing the liver to swell with fat until it is many times its normal size. The organ is then harvested, deveined, and seasoned in a variety of ways before it is baked in a terrine or pan-seared.
Mark Caro, author of The Foie Gras Wars, a book about a local war between Chicago chefs that escalated into a nationwide and international debate and a citywide ban of foie gras that lasted two years before it was repealed, writes that chopped liver is in fact a direct descendant of foie gras, which was once central to Jewish cuisine.
“The most-repeated theory is that foie gras survived thanks to Jews who had learned of force-feeding practices while under Roman rule and carried the tradition around Europe as they kept getting kicked out of countries,” Caro wrote. It even became the topic of a Talmudic commentary on animal cruelty by 11th Century French rabbi Rashi, as Judaic law prohibits tza’ar ba’alei chayim, or the suffering of animals.
But there were practical reasons to force feed geese at the time, Caro wrote. In the Mediterranean, Jews could cook with olive oil. In Babylonia, they could use sesame oil. But as Jews migrated north and west across Europe, they needed something besides pork fat, beef fat and butter to conduct heat in their skillets. The chosen alternative was poultry fat, or schmaltz, extracted from fattened goose livers.
In his book, Caro also includes the story of Holocaust survivor and third-generation Hungarian goose farmer Moshe Friedman, who in 1948 began producing fat goose livers on a kibbutz in the new Jewish state, and made it one of Israel’s first exports.
Israel is now one of 20 countries that bans foie gras produced by force feeding. California, New York City, Pittsburgh, Portland, Ore., and Brookline, Mass. all prohibit stores and restaurants from selling products from force-fed ducks and geese. A similar measure is on the ballot this fall in Denver.
Weissmann just hopes the Denver ordinance is more precise.
“You’d have to be an overzealous vegan to throw all the pâté out of Whole Foods,” he said. “You never know.”
The post Could a foie gras ban remove chopped liver from the deli menu? appeared first on The Forward.
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DSA to LA mayoral favorite Nithya Raman: BDS or our endorsement — pick one
When Nithya Raman told Jewish Angelenos last month that she believed the Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions movement was a “legitimate” form of protest, she didn’t go far enough for the Democratic Socialists of America, whose national leadership threatened to expel her for not championing the Israel boycott outright.
The organization’s staunchly anti-Zionist politics have long clashed with Raman, a progressive councilmember who is running for mayor of Los Angeles — and in a dead heat with incumbent Karen Bass in a recent L.A. Times poll. Though she has called the war in Gaza a genocide, Raman has never been a hardliner on Israel, raising the question of whether the DSA would dig in its heels or back a popular candidate who doesn’t meet all of its criteria.
The answer arrived on Monday night in a pair of resolutions by the DSA’s National Political Committee, which together struck some form of compromise. The committee voted not to expel Raman — at least not before the election. But it threatened to revoke the LA chapter’s earlier endorsement if she does not commit to supporting BDS in a town hall that the LA chapter is expected to convene on Saturday.
Even that measure, though, may not have teeth. It’s unclear whether the LA chapter will actually convene for such a meeting — or whether the national organization even could pull the local group’s endorsement. In a statement following the vote, DSA-LA co-chair Leslie Chang said the chapter was standing by its endorsement.
”Our members voted in a supermajority, democratic decision to support her campaign and we are excited to continue knocking on doors for Nithya and our entire slate through Nov. 3,” Chang said.
The expulsion timeline, on the other hand, gives her until Jan. 1 to endorse BDS and sign on to DSA’s campaign to stop the shipment of weapons for Israel out of Los Angeles International Airport. (Municipal authorities have limited direct legal jurisdiction over international aviation and cargo regulations.)
The lengthy resolutions reflect the fierce competition between ideology and pragmatism inside the DSA as its members increasingly run for and win public office. With Zohran Mamdani at the helm of New York City, a Raman victory would mean DSA members run City Hall in the country’s two largest cities. But many in the organization believe Raman’s politics dilute the brand.
Raman, who in 2020 became the first DSA member elected to LA’s City Council, has sought to thread a needle on Israel during her time in office and on the campaign trail. DSA’s Los Angeles chapter voted to censure her after she accepted an endorsement from Democrats for Israel–Los Angeles, a liberal Zionist group. At the time, Raman told DFI-LA she believed Israel had a right to exist, departing from DSA dogma.
She also touts her support for the Jewish community after Oct. 7. In the wake of the attack, Raman — whose district includes some of the city’s largest Jewish neighborhoods — criticized the DSA for a statement she said was “unacceptably devoid of empathy.”
She has also disappointed some Jewish constituents by supporting a ceasefire in Gaza in early 2024 and by telling controversial left-wing influencer Hasan Piker earlier this year she believed the war was a genocide. She reiterated the genocide remark at the Jewish community forum Sept. 29, crossing what the local Jewish federation said was a “red line” for political candidates.
Thanks to a wave of support from less-active DSA members, the Los Angeles chapter endorsed Raman Sept. 2 by a 937 to 484 vote.
The Raman campaign declined to comment for this story.
‘For a Fighting Anti-Zionist DSA’
DSA-LA’s endorsement came under the microscope of the National Political Committee after it was revealed that the chapter had failed to include a question about BDS in its candidate questionnaire.
The omission of BDS violated a rule about pro-Palestinian policy the national organization passed last year. Known as R22, the rule outlines conditions for revoking endorsements or expelling a member if they make certain pro-Israel statements, such as saying that Israel has “a right to defend itself” or opposing BDS.
Chapter leaders called the missing question an “oversight.”
Meanwhile, Raman’s language on the Israel boycott — if not her stance on the issue — has changed over time.
Back in 2020, when she was running for council, Raman told the Jewish Journal of Greater Los Angeles, “I absolutely do not support BDS,” adding, “At a time when hate crimes are rising in LA and across the world, it is dangerous for a candidate to be so closely aligned with a political movement bent on demonizing Israel and the Jewish people.”
She has spoken less forcefully against boycotting during her campaign. In the Jewish community forum last month, she said that while BDS was a legitimate form of peaceful protest, it was not part of her platform or her focus on LA.
Massive groans in the Skirball auditorium when Nithya Raman defends BDS as a “legitimate form of protest.” Question from @AJCGlobal. https://t.co/W2Uml0lPMI
— Louis Keene (@thislouis) September 30, 2026
In a statement to LA’s DSA chapter sent in advance of Monday’s vote, Raman’s stance on BDS was vague, seemingly supporting BDS as a form of pressure on Israel but stopping short of adopting it herself.
“I believe the best way for working Angelenos to stand in solidarity with Gaza is through non-violent protest, legislative action and diplomatic pressure, including BDS,” Raman said.
DSA members on X appeared split on whether the statement satisfied the requirements of R22.
A second round of questions
The questions Raman will be expected to answer at an Oct. 31 town hall are a familiar list of anti-Zionist litmus tests. In addition to receiving a point-blank question about her support for BDS, she will be asked to make two commitments: to refrain from any affiliation with “Zionist lobby groups” and to oppose any legislation that harms Palestinians.
She will also be asked to oppose legislation “that would allow direct financial donations of any kind to Israel and/or settler NGOs who carry out the mission of Israeli settlement and Palestinian dispossession/displacement, such as the Jewish National Fund,” and to condemn weapons shipments from LAX.
If the meeting doesn’t happen by Oct. 31, the resolution says, the national committee will order DSA-LA to pull the endorsement. And if DSA-LA refuses to comply — either by not holding a meeting or maintaining its endorsement — the chapter and its leadership could be censured.
DSA-LA leadership didn’t seem particularly troubled by the possibility of a break from the national committee.
“As DSA-LA is a membership-driven organization,” Chang, its co-chair, said, “any decision around our electoral strategy lies with our members and we will be maintaining our endorsement of Nithya and all our candidates.”
Meanwhile, the resolution calling for Raman’s expulsion if she has not complied by Jan. 1 adds that if she doesn’t win Nov. 3, “all deadlines and proposed disciplinary votes for CM Raman and the LA chapter in this proposal shall be null and void.”
If she does not win the election, Raman’s council term will end in 2028.
The post DSA to LA mayoral favorite Nithya Raman: BDS or our endorsement — pick one appeared first on The Forward.
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What can we make of the initial results of the Israeli elections?
אַ גרױסער יום-טובֿ איז געפֿײַערט געװאָרן אין ישׂראל, דעם 27סטן אָקטאָבער — אַ יום-טובֿ פֿאַר דעמאָקראַטיע און אַ יום-טובֿ פֿאַר ייִדן.
דאָ האָבן אַלע רעגיסטרירטע בירגער פֿון 18 יאָר און עלטער געהאַט די מעגלעכקײט צו שטימען פֿאַר אײנער פֿון 35 פּאָליטישע פּאַרטײען: סײַ ייִדישע און סײַ ניט-ייִדישע פּאַרטײען, כּדי אױסצוקלײַבן אַ נײַע רעגירונג פֿאַר אַ קאַדענץ װאָס — לױטן געזעץ — דאַרף אױסהאַלטן 4 יאָר. אין דער אמתן איז זעלטן װען עס האַלט אַזױ לאַנג אױס, נאָר אין די װאַלן פֿון 2022 האָט בנימין נתניהוס רעגירונג טאַקע אױסגעהאַלטן.
עטלעכע פֿאַקטן וועגן די איצטיקע װאַלן
- איבער 12,000 שטימערטער זײַנען געװען צעשפּרײט איבער אַרום 1,200 ייִשובים.
- טױזנטער ישׂראלים מיט שטימרעכט זײַנען ספּעציעל אָנגעפֿלױגן פֿון אַנדערע לענדער, כּדי אָנטײלצונעמען אין די װאַלן. צװישן זײ — די װעלט-באַרימטע אַקטריסע גל גדוט (גאַל גאַדאָט) װאָס האָט לעצטנס באַקומען אַן ערן־דאָקטאָראַט פֿון בר־אילן אוניװערסיטעט.
- צענדליקער טױזנטער סאָלדאַטן האָבן געשטימט פֿאַרן וואַלטאָג, דעם 27סטן. די רעזולטאַטן װעלן שפּעטער צוגעגעבן װערן און קענען האָבן אַ ממשתדיקע השפּעה אױף דעם אַרױסקום.
- עס האָבן געשטימט 5,695,682 פֿון די בירגער מיט שטימרעכט (7,331,981). דאָס איז אַרום 77.7% — דער העכסטער פּראָצענט מענטשן וואָס האָבן געשטימט במשך פֿון לאַנגע יאָרן.
די פּרעלימינאַרע רעזולטאַטן מיט אַ טאָג שפּעטער
לױט די אַנקעטעס פֿון עטלעכע טעג פֿאַר די װאַלן האָט מען פֿאָרױסגעזאָגט אַז פֿון די מעגלעכע 120 כּנסת־ערטער װעלן בערך 52 גיין פֿאַר די שותּפֿים פֿון נתניהון; 54 פֿאַר די קעגנערס פֿון נתניהו, און 14 פֿאַר די אַראַבישע פּאַרטײען.
װי נאָר דאָס װײלן האָט זיך געשלאָסן 10 אַ זייגער אין אָוונט , האָבן די פֿאַרשײדענע אױספֿרעג-פֿירמעס שױן אָנגעהױבן אַרױסזאָגן זײערע נבֿיאות. עס איז שוין אָנגענומען, אַז זײַט-בײַ-זײַט מיט אַ צאָל וויכטיקע שטימערטער, שטעלט מען אױס שטימקעסטלעך, און מע בעט די װײלער אַרײַנװאַרפֿן אין קעסטל אַ קאָפּיע פֿון זײער אױסװײל. בערך 600 אַזעלכע שטימקעסטלעך האָט מען אויפֿגעשטעלט איבער אַ צאָל ייִשובים. די אויספרעג-פֿירמעס באַאַרבעטן די דאָזיקע „פּאַראַלעלע“ רעזולטאַטן צוזאַמען מיט געװיסע אַנדערע פֿאַקטאָרן און מאַכן אַ סך-הכּל פֿון װי עס װעלן אפֿשר אױסזען די לעצטגילטיקע רעזולטאַטן.
די פֿיר הױפּט טעלעװיזיע־סטאַנציעס האָבן אַלע געהאַט אָנגעשטעלט אױספֿרעג-פֿירמעס, און דרײַ פֿון זײ האָבן געהאַט מער אָדער װײניקער די זעלבע רעזולטאַטן: אַז נתניהוס בלאָק האָט פֿאַרשפּילט. די פֿערטע טעלעװיזיע־סטאַנציע, ארוץ 14, װאָס רעכנט זיך פֿאַר אַ גרױסן שטיצער פֿון די רעכטע און פֿון נתניהון – האָט לרובֿ געגעבן ענלעכע רעזולטאַטן, אָבער אָנגעװיזן אַז נתניהו װעט זײַן דער געװינער.
װי אַ רעזולטאַט פֿון די דאָזיקע מוסטער-שטימען, האָבן נאָך האַלבער נאַכט געמאָלדן סײַ גדי אײַזנקאָט פֿון דער „ישר“ פּאַרטײ, װאָס האָט באַװיזן 23 שטימען, סײַ נפֿתּלי בענעט פֿון דער „ביחד“ פּאַרטײ מיט יאיר לפּיד (מיט 12 שטימען) — אַז נתניהו און זײַן בלאָק האָט פֿאַרשפּילט.
נתניהו, דאַקעגן, האָט זיך ניט אונטערגעגעבן, און דעקלאַרירט אַז ער האָט די גרעסטע פּאַרטײ, און אַז מע דאַרף װאַרטן אױף די אמתע שטימען, װאָס מע װעט צומאָרגנס דערגאַנצן. און מיט דעם איז מען געגאַנגען שלאָפֿן – אַז נתניהוס קעגנערס האָבן געװוּנען.
אַ גאַנצע נאַכט האָט מען געציילט די אמתע שטימען. אין דער פֿרי האָבן מענטשן זיך אױפֿגעװעקט צו גאָר אַן אַנדער רעאַליטעט. סײַ נאָכן אױססאָרטירן און אָפּצײלן בערך אַ דריטל פֿון די שטימען 7 אַ זייגער אין דער פֿרי, סײַ ווען מע האָט שוין איבערגעציילט 50% מיט צוויי שעה שפּעטער, האָט אױסגעזען אַז נתניהו און זײַן בלאָק פֿון דער איצטיקער רעגירונגס קאָאַליציע װעט האָבן די מערסטע ערטער אין דער כּנסת און װעט קענען צוריק װערן די אָנפירענדיקע פּאַרטיי אין לאַנד.
די אַראַבישע פּאַרטײען האָבן אויך געהאַט גרױס דערפֿאָלג. זײערע שטיצערס זײַנען אַרױס אין די טױזנטער צו שטימען (מע זאָגט אַז בן-גבֿיר און זײַן פּאַרטײ האָט זײ אָנגעבייזערט) און באַקומען אַ גרעסערע צאָל ערטער אין כּנסת װי װען עס איז. די פֿאַרגרעסערטע צאָל אַראַבישע װײלער האָבן אױך פֿאַרגרעסערט דעם מינימום צאָל שטימען װאָס אַ קלענערע פּאַרטײ האָט געמוזט אָנזאַמלען כּדי צו דערגרייכן דעם מינימום פֿון 4 ערטער. אױב אין די פֿריִערדיקע װאַלן פֿון 2022 האָט אַ פּאַרטײ באַדאַרפֿט אַרײַנציִען 155,000 שטימען, איז שאַרף געװאַקסן דער מינימום נעענטער צו 184,000 צוליב דער הױכער צאָל װײלער (ייִדן און ניט-ייִדן) װאָס זײַנען אַרױס שטימען.
נאָכן איבערציילן בערך 77% פון די שטימען הײַנט ביז 2 אַ זייגער נאָך מיטאָג, ווערן די 120 כּנסת־מיטגלידער אײַנגעטיילט אַזוי: נתניהוס בלאָק — 54, די קעגנער — 49 און די אַראַבישע פּאַרטייען — 17.
צי די רעזולטאַטן וועלן זיך בײַטן נאָך דעם ווי מע האָט איבערגעציילט 100% וועט מען נאָך זען. מע דאַרף אויך אין זינען האָבן די עטלעכע הונדערט טױזנט שטימען פֿון די סאָלדאַטן. דאָס קען נאָך אַרױסראַטעװען יועז הענדעלס „מילואימניקים“ פּאַרטײ, וואָס איך האָב באַשריבן אין אַ פֿריִערדיקן אַרטיקל.
סך-הכּלען און מעגלעכע אױסקומען
געװיסע פּאַרטײען פֿון נתניהוס בלאָק האָבן פֿאָדערונגען װאָס קענען זײַן פֿאַר אים שװער אױסצופֿירן. למשל, די חרדים האָבן געזאָגט אַז זײ װעלן זיך דאָס מאָל ניט פֿאַראײניקן מיטן ליכּוד, כּל־זמן מע װעט ניט באַפֿרײַען צענדליקער טױזנטער פֿרומע יונגעלײַט פֿון מיליטער-דינסט. בן-גבֿיר האָט געפֿאָדערט אַז ער זאָל זײַן דער פֿאַרטײדיקונג־מיניסטער. אַנדערע פּאַרטײען װעלן זיכער האָבן נאָך פֿאָדערונגען.
עס קען זײַן, אַז נתניהו װעט װעלן זיך אָפּטשעפּענען פֿון די קאָפּװײטיקן פֿון זײַנע ביז-איצטיקע שותּפֿים, און זוכן זיך צו פֿאַראײניקן מיט געװיסע פּאַרטײען פֿון זײַנע פּאָליטישע קעגנערס.
די מערסטע ציוניסטישע פּאַרטײען װאָס האָבן זיך קעגנגעשטעלט נתניהוס בלאָק, װעלן זיכער ניט װעלן זיך פֿאַראײניקן מיטן ליכּוד כּל־זמן נתניהו איז אין דער שפּיץ. צי װעט ער זײַן גרײט צו זײַן אויפֿן צװײטן אָרט? לױט די איצטיקע געזעצן קען ער ניט װערן אַ מיניסטער אַזוי לאַנג ווי מע פֿירט קעגן אים אַ משפּט. צי װעט עמעצער צוליב דעם אײַנפֿירן אַן ענדערונג אינעם געזעץ?
די װאָס האָבן הײַנט אפֿשר דעם גרעסטן כּוח זײַנען די צװײ אַראַבישע פּאַרטײען. װי פּראַגמאַטיש װעלן זײ קענען זײַן? זײ װעלן כּמעט װי זיכער זיך ניט פֿאַראײניקן מיט אַ טײל פֿון נתניהוס בלאָק. די גרעסערע גרופּע האָט זיך אױסגעדריקט אַז זײ זײַנען גרײט אַלץ צו טאָן כּדי נתניהו זאָל ניט קענען צוריק װערן דער פּרעמיער. פֿון דער אַנדערער זײַט זײַנען ליכּודס אײנציקע מעגלעכע שותּפֿים די פּאַרטייען אין דער אַנטי-נתניהו מחנה. די מערסטע פֿון זײ האָבן צוגעזאָגט זײערע װײלער אַז זײ װעלן קײנמאָל ניט װערן שותּפֿים פֿון די אַראַבישע פּאַרטײען.
אין מײַן פֿריִערדיקן אַרטיקל האָב איך דערציילט וועגן דעם קאַנדידאַט יואבֿ סעגאַלאָװיטש – דעם געוועזענעם, פֿאַרדינסטפֿולן הויפּט פֿון דער ישׂראל־פּאָליציי וואָס פֿיגורירט אויפֿן צווייטן אָרט אין דער איסלאַמישער רע״ם פּאַרטײ. איז מעגלעך אַז די ציוניסטישע פּאַרטייען וועלן זײַן גרייט צו מאַכן אַ קאָאַליציע מיט זיי? ס׳קלינגט אוממעגלעך אָבער אין דער ישׂראל־פּאָליטיק קענען תּמיד פֿאָרקומען סורפּריזן.
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