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A Queens synagogue is moving, and the fate of its storied ark is in limbo
(New York Jewish Week) — Crafted of bronze and gold-leaf plaster, and topped by a bejeweled crown, the astonishing 26-foot-tall ark of the Forest Hills Jewish Center fills its cavernous sanctuary with an imposing presence.
When Temma Kingsley joined the congregation as a newlywed in 1965, she was taken aback by its style.
“I thought it was really quite fancy, overdone,” she recalled recently, comparing it to the traditional wooden ark in the modest Philadelphia synagogue where she grew up. “But I’ve since learned what it’s all about, and I’ve become attached to it.”
The ark, which houses the synagogue’s Torah scrolls, is the work of artist Arthur Szyk (1894-1951), a Polish-born artist who rose to fame in the United States with vivid, technicolor drawings on the covers of influential magazines, in the pages of high-profile newspapers and in fine galleries and museums around the world. When the synagogue dedicated its minimalist post-war building on Queens Boulevard in 1949, Szyk’s opulently designed ark stood out as entirely different.
Now, with the impending sale of the Forest Hills Jewish Center building, Kingsley is concerned about the ark’s future. So too are current synagogue leaders, as well as art historians and museum curators, who are scurrying to find it a new home. Meanwhile, the ark’s fate remains in question.
The Conservative synagogue announced last year it was selling its building and would look for a new home in the same area in Queens. In August, an investment partnership led by Joseph Yushuvayev and Uri Mermelstein of Top Rock Holdings announced it was in contract to buy the building and develop the site.
Fully acknowledging the value and importance of the Szyk ark, the congregation is seeking to find it a new home. At least one art dealer has expressed interest in acquiring the ark, but this route has been rejected as it would not come with any guarantee of where it might eventually land.
Arthur Szyk was known for his vivid Jewish art, including “David and Saul” (1921), left, and his political cartoons and illustrations, including “Madness” (1941). (The Magnes Collection of Jewish Art and Life, University of California, Berkeley)
“What if the buyer decides to disassemble the ark and use its beautiful bronze doors as the entrance to their home?” Deborah Gregor, executive director of the Forest Hills Jewish Center, asked rhetorically, her voice tightening.
Taking into consideration this theoretical scenario, the board has agreed to prioritize keeping the ark intact to honor its legacy. Several museums have been contacted. Thus far none have come forward.
Simona Di Nepi, the Charles and Lynn Schusterman Curator of Judaica at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, traveled to Forest Hills last month to see the ark and “fell in love.”
“I see it as a tour de force of Jewish art,” she said — a unique and spectacular “show-stopper.”
On her recommendation, the Boston Museum of Fine Arts explored the possibility of acquiring it, but the height ultimately presented logistical challenges that could not be overcome. Di Nepi has now turned her attention to several large synagogues with the hopes of finding one that might adopt it.
“I can’t bear the thought of what will happen if it does not find a home,” she said.
Born in Poland, trained in Paris and influenced by the brief time he spent at Bezalel Art School in British Mandate Palestine, Szyk was known for his vivid Jewish art, biting political cartoons and his portraits of American heroes and European figureheads. In 1941, The Times Literary Supplement wrote that his illuminated Passover haggadah was “worthy to be placed among the most beautiful books that the hand of man has produced.” Reprinted many times in the decades since, it remains a staple in Jewish homes today.
While Szyk’s oeuvre is described by critics as “exquisite,” “masterful” and “marvels of technical skill,” the artist did not view his own creations as ends unto themselves. Instead, he used his work to influence politics and world opinion. Irvin Ungar, editor of the 2017 study “Arthur Szyk: Soldier in Art,” wrote that Szyk employed pen and paintbrush as tools to wage war against the Nazis, attack racism, promote Zionism and preserve freedom.
His work caught the attention of two leading rabbis of his day: Abba Hillel Silver in Cleveland and Ben Zion Bokser in Queens. Both led growing congregations that would reach well over 1,000 family members. Separately, the two commissioned Szyk to create significant objects for their respective synagogues.
The baroque form of Szyk’s ark at the Forest Hills Jewish Center, left, is reminiscent of the arks of Eastern European synagogues that were destroyed in the war; Szyk’s stained glass “Warrior Windows” at Cleveland’s Reform Temple Tifereth Israel feature the biblical figures Gideon, Samson and Judah Maccabee. (Courtesy of Irvin Ungar)
Szyk’s stained glass “Warrior Windows” were dedicated in Cleveland’s Reform Temple Tifereth Israel on the last day of Hanukkah in 1947. Commissioned to honor congregants who fought in World War II, the 15 windows include the names of fallen soldiers and showcase the biblical figures Judah Maccabee, Samson and Gideon, resplendent in sumptuous battle dress.
In a letter to Silver, Szyk explained that he would have ordinarily charged $15,000 for the project (the equivalent of $200,000 today). But because Szyk aligned so closely with the rabbi’s ideological mission — Silver was a leading proponent of Zionism — he viewed the job as “a personal favor,” and agreed to a much lower sum of $4,500.
Bokser, a social justice activist whose edition of the Jewish prayer book was a staple of Conservative synagogues for decades, was also drawn to Szyk’s bold, innovative style for the sanctuary of his congregation’s sleek new building on Queens Boulevard. Art historian and Cleveland State University Distinguished Professor Samantha Baskind calls it “sui generis”: Like Szyk’s illuminated manuscripts, the ark’s design packs in a dizzying array of abstract ornaments woven together with Jewish emblems. Scrolls, flowers, acorns and leaves are interspersed with holiday symbols, lions of Judah and representations of the Israelite tribes.
Its baroque form is reminiscent of the arks of Eastern European synagogues that were destroyed in the war. But Szyk was neither mournful nor nostalgic. Forward looking and hopeful, his ark doors are flanked by birds that can be read as either eagles or doves. With their wings spread wide, the figures stretch toward the biblical and Talmudic passages that border the work, invoking God’s judgment and heralding freedom.
Ungar assesses the ark as “an American and a Jewish icon” and a “culmination of [Szyk’s] prayers” as expressed through his art. Gregor refers to it as the artist’s “ark de triomph,” quite literally: “It is Szyk’s own statement of triumph, celebratory and grand,” she said.
The Forest Hills Jewish Center has been a fixture on Queens Boulevard since the late 1940s. (New York Jewish Week)
Ironically, its grandeur is precisely the source of its uncertain future.
When the Jewish Center’s current building was dedicated in 1949 in the presence of 5,000 guests, its scale was meant to accommodate a growing membership. Its main sanctuary held 1,200 seats, and its religious school would eventually accommodate some 900 students. Now the hulking space has become too large and costly for its 300-400 member families to maintain. The congregation has not yet announced relocation plans. But their hope for the future is an intimate space with a cozy aesthetic, where the monumental scale of the Szyk ark will likely not fit in.
Art historian Samantha Baskind has been preoccupied with the issue. “A logical solution would be to unite it with Szyk’s Warrior Windows” in Cleveland’s Temple Tifereth Israel,” she said. “Bringing the works into conversation with each other in the same sacred space is conceptually brilliant and would honor the memory of Rabbi Silver at the same time that it beautifies the synagogue.”
Whatever the future holds for the ark, some Forest Hills Jewish Center members are finding it hard to say goodbye. Kingsley recalled the central role the synagogue has played in her life since she moved to Forest Hills 57 years ago. For her, the ark is not just about its aesthetic details, or the artist who created it.
“That was the ark Rabbi Bokser commissioned,” she said wistfully. It holds his spirit, too.
Alanna E. Cooper serves as the Abba Hillel Silver Chair in Jewish Studies at Case Western Reserve University. Her book “Disposing of the Sacred” is forthcoming with Penn State University Press.
—
The post A Queens synagogue is moving, and the fate of its storied ark is in limbo appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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‘Antisemitism Crisis in America’: Swastika Graffiti Again Appears Across New York City Boro
Swastikas graffitied in Forest Park in Queens, New York City over the weekend. Photo: Screenshot.
Antisemitic vandals in Queens, New York City are painting the town Nazi red, having added over the weekend two new incidents of swastika graffiti to a spree of hate crimes targeting Jewish institutions and homes across the borough.
As seen in photographs shared on social media, the unknown suspects graffitied some eleven swastikas at Highland Park and Forest Park for locals to discover on Monday — just one week after perpetrating the same crime at four Jewish owned properties in Rego Park and Forest Hills.
“This is yet another hateful incident meant to intimidate Jewish New Yorkers and divide our city,” New York City Council speaker of the house Julie Menin said in a statement posted on the X social media platform. “We want to be clear: we cannot and will not accept this as normal.”
The vandalism wave came just as the New York City Police Department (NYPD) announced that an ongoing surge in antisemitic hate crimes in the metropolis, which is home to the largest Jewish population outside of Israel, continues unabated.
According to newly released data the agency published on Monday, Jews were targeted in 60 percent of all confirmed hate crimes last month, despite making up just 10 percent of the city’s population.
In April, the police confirmed 30 antisemitic incidents out of 50 total hate crimes in the city. As for all reported/suspected hate crimes, 38 out of the total of 65 targeted Jews.
The NYPD had previously reported suspected, but unconfirmed, hate crime incidents. In February, the police began reporting confirmed incidents instead. And then after receiving scrutiny, the department began reporting both suspected and confirmed hate crimes in March.
Regardless of the methodology, the majority of all hate crimes in New York City this year have targeted Jews, especially the Orthodox community, continuing a surge in antisemitism that has swept the city after the start of the Israel-Hamas war in Gaza in October 2023.
In just eight days between the end of October and the beginning of November 2024, for example, three Hasidim, including children, were brutally assaulted in the Crown Heights section of Brooklyn. In one instance, an Orthodox man was accosted by two assailants, one masked, who “chased and beat him” after he refused to surrender his cellphone in compliance with what appeared to have been an attempted robbery. In another incident, an African American male smacked a 13-year-old Jewish boy who was commuting to school on his bike in the heavily Jewish neighborhood. Less than a week earlier, an assailant slashed a visibly Jewish man in the face as he was walking in Brooklyn.
In November, just days after the election of Zohran Mamdani as mayor of New York City, hundreds of people amassed outside a prominent synagogue and clamored for violence against Jews.
The change in New York City’s climate since Mamdani’s election is palpable, Jewish advocacy groups have said. On his first day in office in January, Mamdani voided the city government’s adoption of the IHRA definition, lifted the ban on contracts with companies boycotting Israel, and modified key provisions of an executive order directing law enforcement to monitor anti-Israel protests held near synagogues.
“Mayor Mamdani pledged to build an inclusive New York and combat all forms of hate, including antisemitism,” a coalition of leading Jewish groups said in a statement addressing the changes enacted by the new administration. “But when the new administration hit reset on many of Mayor Adams’ executive orders, it reversed … significant protections against antisemitism.”
Mayor Mamdani has denounced the swastika graffiti as a “deliberate act of antisemitic hatred” and said that he has assigned the NYPD’s Hate Crimes Task Force to investigate it.
Follow Dion J. Pierre @DionJPierre.
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‘Time Zone’ — poetry by Jake Schneider
צײַטזאָנע (אַטלאַס)
פֿאַר די ייִדיש־שרײַבערס פֿון יאָר 2100
אַן עסײ־פּאָעמע געשריבן אין יאַנואַר 2026
12:00
טײל פּאַסאַזשירן דרײען צוריק די זײגערלעך
בײַם אָפּפֿלי, אַנדערע בײַ דער לאַנדונג.
רובֿ פּאַסאַזשירן אָבער טראָגן מער נישט
קײן זײגערלעך און װאַרטן ביז די מאָבילקעס
פֿאַרבינדן זיך מיט דער נײַער צײַט.
די צײַט באַשטײט פֿון פֿאַרבינדונגען.
אױף די עקראַנען: מאַפּעס מיט גרענעצן.
אונטער די פֿענצטער: אַנאָנימע פּײזאַזשן.
אײן עראָפּלאַן מיט דרײַ צײַטזאָנעס:
אָפּשטאַם, צילאָרט און פֿלימאָדוס.
1:00
פֿעטער אַרטשיבאַלד דער אַװאָקאַט
גלײבט נישט אין זומער־זײגער.
אָפֿט קומט ער אָן אַ שעה פֿריִער
פֿאַר אַ זיצונג מיטן ריכטער.
זײַנע שפּעטע װעטשערע־געסט, װידער,
קריגן בלױז אַ שטיקל פּעקאַן־פּײַ.
לױט דער באָבען לײענט ער באַריכטן
הין און קריק, אױף זײַן הױדע־בענקל.
2:00
אין ברוקלין האָט די מאַמע ע״ה בדעה
צו שענקען מײַן זומער־לאַגער אַ זונזײגער,
גיט זי אַ קלונג רבֿ קונדא ז״ל,
דעם דירעקטאָר און דערצײלער.
צו קאַלקולירן אַן אַקוראַטן װײַזער־שאָטן
דאַרף מען קודם די פּינקטלעכע פּאָזיציע.
אפֿשר לעבן דער הײַזקע װוּ ער דערצײלט
יעדן שבת זײַנע אַלטע משפּחה־מעשׂיות?
דװקא דאָרט װוּ מיר קינדער פֿאַרלירן
נאָך מנחה דעם חשבֿון פֿון די שעהען?
3:45
כינע־צײַט װערט טראַנסמיטירט
פֿון צײַט־צענטער אױף באַרג לישאַן
פֿאַר אַ ראַדיאָ־עולם פֿון װיגורסטאַן
אַזש ביז כּמעט ביראָבידזשאַן.
צענטראַל־מערבֿ־אױסטראַליע־צײַט
¾8 שעה נאָך לאָנדאָן־װעלטצײַט
פֿירט זיך אין פֿינף אָפּרו־סטאַנציעס
אױפֿן שאָסײ פֿון קײַגונע קײן גרענעצדאָרף.
אַן אַטלאַנטישער קאָנטײנער־שיף
פֿאַרמאָגט מער נישט קײן שיפֿגלאָק.
דאָס באַשליסט בלױז הער קאַפּיטאַן
װען אַ נײַע צײַטזאָנע הײבט זיך אָן.
די אַװיאָנען פֿון „פּאַװע לופֿט“ טיקען
צום טאַקט פֿון די סטואַרד/קעס הערצער:
אָט פֿאַרלעשן זײ די קאַבינע־ליכט;
איצט פֿירן זײ דאָס שפּײַזװעגעלע.
4:00
אין „גאַלעריע צײַטזאָנע“ געדױערט
אַ מינוט כאָטש הונדערט סעקונדעס.
אַ באַזוכערין פֿון אױסלאַנד װערט אומזיכער:
אין װאָסער יאָרהונדערט איז זי אַרײַנגעפֿלױגן?
די װענט באַמאָלענע מיט אַלטנײַע אותיות,
אױסגעפּוצטע מיט חוצפּהדיקע אַנאַכראָניזמען.
אַ מאָל פֿאַרבעט מען געסט פֿון דער װײַטנס
אױפֿצוטרעטן װירטועל אױף דער לײַװנט,
נאָר ס׳איז שטענדיק שװער זיך צו אײניקן
אױף אַ סינכראָנישער שעה פֿאַרן זום־קלונג
װײַל טײל האַלטן די גאַלעריע פֿאַר פֿאַרבײַ,
אַנדערע דװקא פֿאַר דער צוקונפֿט.
5:00
צײַטזאָנעס, אַזױ װי לשונות, קענען זיך
טוליען, איבערשנײַדן, אײַננעסטיקן:
צען שפּראַכן אין אײן צען־דירהדיקן הױז;
צען שפּרפּאַכן אין אײן מוח. פֿון דרױסן
באַמערקט אַ פֿאַרבײַגײער די פֿענצטער,
סײַ די ליכטיק װאַכע און סײַ די פֿינצטער
פֿאַרחלומטע. װאָסערע לשונות הערן זיך
דערינען? װיפֿל איז דאָרט דער זײגער?
איבער די הײַזער פֿליט אַן אַװיאָן
מיט פֿאַרמאַכטע פֿענצטער־רולעטן,
פֿאַרלאָשענע מאַפּעס און קאַבינע־ליכט—
נאָר עטלעכע פֿון אױבן באַלײַכטענע ביכער.
6:00
אױף דער אונטערבאַן־ליניע אַכט
מאָנטיק זעקס אַ זײגער אין דער פֿרי
– צענטראַל־אײראָפּע־צײַט, פֿאַרשטײט זיך –
פֿאָרט אײנער אַ מידער
אַהײם פֿון קיטקאַט־קלוב
לעבן אַ צװײטער אַ מידער
װאָס זי פֿאָרט צו דער אַרבעט.
7:00
די צװישן־צײַטזאָנעס שטרעקן זיך אױס
פֿון דרעמל־קנעפּל ביזן צװײטן װעקער
פֿון ליפֿט־קנעפּל ביז דער אָפֿענער טיר
פֿון שלום־עליכם ביזן ערשטן קוש
פֿון זײַ־געזונט ביז דער קאַלטער גאַס
8:00
„פּאַװע לופֿט“ באָט אָן פֿאַרבינדונגען
צו אַלע צײַטזאָנעלעך פֿון ייִדישלאַנד.
כאָטש געװיסע פֿליִען הײבן זיך אָן
אין שװער צו דערגרײכן יאָרן.
אַבי עס בלײַבט אונדז עפּעס
אַ פֿאַרבינדונג צװישן די דורות.
9:00
די געשיכטע פֿון כּלל־צײַטזאָנעס
איז אַ מעכטיקע משפּחה־מעשׂה
פֿון סינכראָניזירטע אימפּעריעס
מיט כּלערלײ קונציקע זײגערס:
60 מינוט אין אַ שעה לױט די בבֿלים
12 שעה אין אַ נאַכט לױט די מצרים
24 שעה אין אַ מעת־לעת לױט די גריכן
7 טעג אין אַ װאָך לױטן רױמישן קײסער
12 חדשים מיט קײסערלעך רױמישע נעמען
דער בריטישער פֿלאָט האָט באַזיגט
דעם זונפֿאַרגאַנג און יעדן מערידיאַן
מיט זײַנע כּסדרדיקע כראָנאָמעטערס
װאָס טראָגן לאָנדאָן־צײַט װײַט און ברײט
נאָר די טראַנסקאָנטינענטאַלע אײַזנבאַן
האָט געדאַרפֿט שאַפֿן צײַט־פֿאַרבינדונגען
צװישן די שיפֿן און די רעלסן און די פּײסאַזשן.
4 זאָנעס איבער אַלע באַזיגטע געביטן.
24 זאָנעס פֿאַראײניקטע מיט טעלעגראַפֿן.
אין װאַשינגטאָן האָט מען באַשטימט
אַז דער טאָג הײבט זיך אָן אין לאָנדאָן;
אין זשענעװע האָט מען פּראָקלאַמירט
די „װעלטצײַט“ לױט אַ גענױער סעקונדע
אַן אַטאָמיש געמאָסטענע אין פּאַריז
10:00
דער טאָג
לױט סװאַטש־
הײבט זיך אָן
האַלבע נאַכט
לױט דער כּלל־צײַט
פֿון ביל, שװײץ
און צעטײלט זיך
אױף טױזנט „טאַקטן“
װעלכע גלײַכן
זיך פּינקטלעך
צו פֿראַנצײזיש־
רעװאָלוציאָנערע
דעצימאַלע מינוטן
די רעװאָלוציאָנערע
צײַט האָט טױזנטער
צײַטזאָנעס לױט דער זון
איבער יעדן דאָרף און שטעטל
סװאַטש־צײַט
פֿונדעסטװעגן
איז סינכראָניזירט
צװישן יעדן דופֿקדיקן געלענק
11:00
אין װאָרמס
טראָגט אַ ייִנגל אַ בוך.
זאָל „פּיפּער־
נאָטער לופֿט“
אים טראָגן בשלום
קײן מאָליעװ
און פֿון דאָרטן בשלום
קײן בערלין.
זאָל ער זיך אַראָפּ־
לאָזן װי אַ ראָזשינקע
אױף טעמפּלהאָפֿער פֿליפֿעלד
און װײַטער לײענען דאָס בוך
אױף טראַמװײַ נײַנאונײַנציק
אַזש ביז צײַטזאָנע —
11:59
דאָס בוך גופֿא
איז אַ פֿליפֿאַרבינד
איבער לשון־צײַט,
אַ צײַטזאָנעלע
פֿון אױגן־
ציטערנישן
צװישן
אָט און
איצט.
אָט—
נאַט אײַך
די בילעטן.
מיר װינטשן אײַך
אַן אײַנגענעמע
רײַזע.
The post ‘Time Zone’ — poetry by Jake Schneider appeared first on The Forward.
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Abe Foxman built the Jewish establishment. He died troubled by what it had become
Abe Foxman never texted me Shabbat Shalom, and he didn’t always answer my calls. I couldn’t blame him, because I was often looking for something more from Foxman than his comment on current events.
Foxman, who died on Sunday, was a consummate insider who had become troubled by what he viewed as the cowardice of the very Jewish establishment he helped create during his five decades at the Anti-Defamation League. This dynamic fascinated me, and I sometimes pressed him articulate these concerns more candidly. But Foxman didn’t want to become a gadfly following his retirement in 2015 and picked his words carefully.
Occasionally, though, his frustration slipped through.
When I asked him a few years ago about the boom in new organizations created to fight antisemitism — more than 75 nonprofits with that mission have been created since he left the ADL in 2015— he lamented that it had become much more difficult for legacy organizations to say no to donors with political agendas because they could now take their dollars elsewhere.
“I had rules,” Foxman said. “Maybe that’s why they’re able to raise more money than I could.”
The erosion of rules that had once governed American society alarmed Foxman because he recognized that it was those norms — political correctness, trust in the mainstream media, bipartisanship — that had protected Jews.
“Antisemitism has always been here,” Foxman said on Israel’s Army Radio in 2018, during Donald Trump’s first term as president and after the Charlottesville “Unite the Right” rally had opened the nation’s eyes to an emboldened antisemitic movement. “What has changed is a new permissiveness, a new legitimacy, a new emboldenment, as if it’s OK — or more OK — today to be an antisemite.”
Unlike many of the leaders who succeeded him atop the country’s most powerful Jewish organizations, Foxman drew a direct line between the rise of Trump and skyrocketing hostility toward Jews.
“Trump’s presidency — in spirit and in deed — has given succor to bigots, supremacists, and those seeking to divide our society,” Foxman wrote in his endorsement of Joe Biden. “He and his administration dehumanize immigrants, demonize the most vulnerable, and undermine the civility and enlightened political culture that have allowed Jews to achieve what no diaspora community outside Israel can claim in two millennia.”
Foxman slammed Jonathan Greenblatt, his successor at the ADL, and other Jewish leaders for failing to follow his lead during the campaign.
But Foxman had, in some respects, paved the way for the state of affairs that he later bemoaned.
Take his relationship with Fox News owner Rupert Murdoch, who he met in the shvitz during one of Foxman’s biannual visits to a spa for billionaires, where each week-long stay cost nearly $9,000, paid for by an ADL donor. “I have come to know the man, not his image,” Foxman said after presenting Murdoch with a leadership award in 2010.
When I asked Foxman whether he regretted feting the founder of Fox News, which had almost certainly contributed to the erosion of political correctness and trust in the media that he later lamented, he cryptically brushed aside the concern: “Fox wasn’t Fox back then.”
And Foxman could claim impunity when it came to countering antisemitism in the way that he saw fit.
After the ADL found itself embroiled in a scandal over its close monitoring of political activists in the early 1990s, including activists against South African apartheid who were also critical of Israel, a Washington Post reporter wrote that Foxman “testily argued” to him that the ADL “has a right to do whatever it must within the law to combat antisemitism,” including receiving files the police said were stolen from the FBI.
Foxman also lobbied Congress not to recognize the Armenian genocide, worried that doing so would endanger Turkey’s Jewish community and damage the country’s relationship with Israel, before eventually reversing course. And, in what became the central allegation in longstanding complaints from the left that Foxman had stoked Islamophobia, he insisted that it was offensive to build a proposed mosque near Ground Zero in Manhattan.
Foxman also deeply believed that Israel’s security was connected to the safety of Jews in the United States, and that animus toward Israel was often a veiled expression of animosity toward Jews, something he remained concerned about until the very end.
This willingness to play ball with billionaires and stake out controversial political positions intended to protect Jews or Israel — often blurring the line between the two — would help shape how the Jewish community evolved in the decades after Foxman became ADL director in 1987.
Foxman achieved his towering status partly through his gravitas and charisma, what Nicole Mutchnik, chair of the ADL board, referred to as his ability to be a “warm friend, advisor, spirited antagonist and hugger — all over lunch.”
But I suspect it also had to do with his ability to maintain what has become an untenable political stance: a deep belief that Jews must fight for civil rights without giving up particular Jewish concerns around Israel and antisemitism.
This meant investing in the ADL’s civil rights portfolio — voting rights, immigration, racial justice, LGBTQ equality — even as he defended Israel in ways that rankled many liberals inside and outside of the organization.
And it meant becoming a forceful voice against both Trump and Israel’s far-right turn in recent years, even as he complained about what he viewed as unfair criticism of AIPAC by progressives and Democratic politicians drifting away from support for Israel in recent interviews.
Foxman shared this commitment to both liberalism, and a connection to Israel that at least sometimes conflicts with that liberalism, with a plurality of American Jews giving the ADL arguably the strongest claim of any legacy organization that it actually represented the American Jews it claimed to speak for.
But despite Foxman’s success — praise for his legacy came from wildly diverse corners of the Jewish community — the current crop of Jewish leaders have not adopted his politics.
The largest establishment organizations, including the current iteration of the Anti-Defamation League, seem to have determined that a wider-ranging commitment to civil rights advocacy and vocal opposition to Trump is a nonstarter if they intend to continue advocating for Israel, at a time when much of the Democratic Party has turned actively hostile to the Jewish state.
Meanwhile, the progressive Jewish groups who remain most committed to civil rights work have largely abandoned Zionism as part of their missions.
This may be a more honest form of Jewish politics than what came before. But it has also left many Jews feeling politically homeless and played into the erasure of a political center that Foxman, and no shortage of Jewish historians, have insisted is integral to Jewish safety.
“We do well when we’re in the center,” Foxman told me shortly after I started this job. “And there is no center today.”
The post Abe Foxman built the Jewish establishment. He died troubled by what it had become appeared first on The Forward.