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Achieving the Impossible: Commemorating the 120th Yahrzeit of the Sdei Chemed
Hanukkah is a Yom Tov that commemorates Klal Yisroel facing impossible odds and overcoming them. How appropriate that the 19th-century gadol, Rav Chaim Chizkiyahu Medini, known as the Sdei Chemed, passed away just before Hanukkah, since in his own lifetime, the Sdei Chemed lived this concept of achieving the impossible.
His Early Years
Rav Chaim Chizkiyahu was born in 1834 in Yerushalayim. His father, Rav Refoel Asher Eliyahu Medini, was a respected Sephardic talmid chacham, descended from a family that had been in Yerushalayim for generations. In fact, some scholars believe the name “Medini” derives from the word “medina,” indicating that its bearers were legal residents at a time when Jews often faced restrictions on living in Yerushalayim.
The young Sdei Chemed devoted himself wholeheartedly to learning and retained all he learned in his photographic memory. He married his wife, Rivka, while in his teens and continued his dedication to Torah learning. He received semicha at the young age of 19.
His father, Rav Refoel, advised him, “Learn Torah, learn Torah, and learn Torah! Spend your days and nights learning. Be a yirei shamayim and have ahavas Hashem. Above all, heed the words of Hashem and follow them.” His father assured his son that if he followed this guidance, he would not need to worry about finances, as Rav Refoel would provide for the Sdei Chemed and his new wife.
This promise held true until tragedy struck.
In 1853, his father suddenly passed away, leaving the entire family without financial support. At 20 years old, Rav Medini found himself responsible not only for himself and his wife but also for his entire family. Completely ignorant of money matters, the Sdei Chemed had no idea where to turn. Yet, Hashem was guiding him towards the next step on his life’s journey.
To New Shores
The Sdei Chemed turned for guidance to the future Rishon Litziyon, Rav Chaim Abulafia (1775-1861), who was a close friend of his father. Rav Abulafia recommended that the family move to Constantinople and live with wealthy relatives who resided there and would be proud to support the young and brilliant scholar. In this way, the Sdei Chemed would be able to continue learning.
When he arrived in Constantinople, his cousins welcomed them. Recognizing his greatness, the community asked the Sdei Chemed to serve as the city’s dayan, but he refused, preferring to devote his time to study and writing. It was in Constantinople that he published his first work, Michtav L’Chizkiyahu.
Although his cousins were initially generous, when the Sdei Chemed became seriously ill some time after his arrival, they began to see him as a burden.
Realizing he could no longer rely on them, the Sdei Chemed began tutoring children for a few hours each day while continuing to devote most of his time to Torah study. Over time, he became the most sought-after Torah teacher in Constantinople. He was highly respected as a gaon in Torah with an extraordinary breadth of knowledge, and as a rebbi who could teach Torah to children and adults on any level.
The Sdei Chemed and his wife, Rabbanit Rivka, in Crimea
An Invitation for the Rabbinate
By 1866, Rav Medini was so well-known that even visitors to Constantinople sought him out to learn from him. One such visitor was a wealthy businessman from the Crimea, who was impressed not only by Rav Medini’s Torah knowledge but also by his regal bearing. The businessman approached Rav Medini and offered him the position of Chief Rabbi of the Crimea.
At that time, the Jewish community of the Crimea was in the process of rebuilding itself following the devastating Crimean War.
The Crimean Jewish community, known as the Krymchaks, was unique in that they were neither Ashkenazi nor Sephardic. They had been largely cut off from the broader Torah world and had experienced a steep decline in religious observance. Additionally, the Crimea was home to a significant Karaite population, which was actively promoting its misguided theology.
Rav Medini recognized the tremendous challenge of accepting the position of Rav under such difficult conditions. Additionally, the Jewish businessman informed him that the Jewish community in Crimea had not had a rabbi in 40 years! Yet, despite their limited knowledge, the Jews there expressed a strong desire to keep Torah and mitzvos. The businessman assured Rav Medini that if he accepted the position, the community would support him and help him bring about a renewal of Torah observance in Crimea.
Incredibly, Rav Medini accepted the position and moved to Karasubazar (modern-day Bilohirsk), meaning “market on the Karasu River.” In 1867, after a nearly two-week boat journey, the Sdei Chemed arrived in Karasubazar, where he would remain as Chief Rabbi until 1899. At that time, the city had a Jewish population that was 20% of its approximately 13,000 residents.
When he arrived, he found the spiritual situation to be dismal. Few Jewish children could read Hebrew, and even siddurim were almost non-existent in the city, let alone other sefarim. The community was largely ignorant of halacha and minhagim, and the task that lay ahead for Rav Medini was enormous.
Yet, the Sdei Chemed rose to the occasion. His first major project was to establish a yeshiva to serve the entire Crimean Peninsula. He also prepared a simplified siddur and copies of it were sold as quickly as they could be printed. The Sdei Chemed created easy-to-understand pamphlets on halacha and minhagim that covered nearly every aspect of Jewish life. These pamphlets were distributed throughout Crimea, providing halachic guidance for every Jewish home.
Over the years, thousands of children attended the yeshiva, and they and their families became completely observant. Under his direction, Crimea experienced a renewal of Torah observance, replacing the assimilation and ignorance that had prevailed until then.
During his time in Crimea, the Sdei Chemed was a sought-after poseik, receiving visitors and letters with dozens of shailas each week from around the world.
Rav Medini had one son and three daughters. Tragically, his only son died in 1868. In his memory, Rav Medini wrote a sefer titled Or Li. His son’s death was devastating for Rav Medini, and he became very ill and even lost his eyesight temporarily. Yet, with a tremendous desire to continue his work in Karasubazar, Rav Medini had a complete recovery. His three daughters all married observant merchants who helped support the Sdei Chemed and his projects.
Magnum Opus: Sdei Chemed
It was during his almost thirty-three years in Karasubazar that Rav Medini wrote the greater part of his magnum opus, the Sdei Chemed. (Chemed was an acronym of his name, Chizkiyahu Medini.) The work is an encyclopedia of halachic topics, and includes numerous teshuvos on each subject in the order of the alef-beis.
Rav Medini possessed a remarkable photographic memory, and when he learned a sefer, he would memorize it as well. In his brilliance, he not only memorized the sefarim but also arranged them in his mind in an incredibly organized fashion. Rav Medini directed his immense wisdom and knowledge toward his sefer, the Sdei Chemed. The work is mind-boggling in its breadth and scope.
The Sdei Chemed lacked an index for many years, making it challenging to find the topic one was looking for. Today, it has an index, yet some observe that the index needs an index! Similar to the Minchas Chinuch, which was a closed book for many years until it was republished and reorganized by Machon Yerushalayim, the Sdei Chemed is challenging to learn because it has not yet been reformatted in a similar way.
Throughout his life, Rav Medini was renowned for his tzidkus. There was a period in his life when he spent or gave away every last coin he had daily, and would then begin the next day with nothing. This practice left a lasting impression on those who knew him, demonstrating both his care for others and his tremendous level of bitachon.
Both Jews and non-Jews throughout Crimea revered the Sdei Chemed as the “Holy Rabbi,” and all sought his blessing. In fact, when an order was issued in 1887 to expel all foreign nationals from Crimea, Rav Medini was allowed to remain, due to the intervention of high-ranking government officials and well-known Russian non-Jewish academics on his behalf.
Rav Medini remained in Crimea for decades, because he believed that no one of stature would replace him to teach Torah and guide the community.
Time to Return Home
In 1899, Rav Medini decided to leave for Eretz Yisroel, intending to spend his final days there. Despite the pleas of the Crimean Jews and his own painful separation from his children and community, he remained steadfast in his decision. Though he had not lived in Eretz Yisroel for most of his life, he wished, at the very least, to be buried there.
Nearly the entire Jewish community of Crimea, comprising tens of thousands of people, gathered at the docks to bid farewell to Sdei Chemed as he left. They wept as he departed on a boat across the Black Sea towards Eretz Yisroel.
When the Sdei Chemed arrived in Eretz Yisroel in the early summer of 1899, he was greeted with tremendous joy by the rabbanim and community members. They danced around him, joyfully welcoming him home.
He chose to reside in Yerushalayim and remained there for two years.
When he first arrived, the position of Chief Rabbi of Yerushalayim was vacant, and he was asked to become Chief Rabbi. Rav Medini declined, hoping to reside there as a simple Jew, but he found it difficult to withstand the pressure from those seeking his leadership.
Chevron, at that time, was a quiet city and seemed like an ideal place for him to spend his days and complete writing his Sdei Chemed. He decided to move there. Shortly after he arrived, Chevron’s two chief rabbanim, Rav Eliyahu Mani and Rav Yosef Franco, passed away, and the community pleaded with him to become their rav. Recognizing the need and realizing he could lead this smaller community and complete his sefer simultaneously, Rav Medini agreed and served as the rav of Chevron until his passing in 1905.
Despite his advanced age, Rav Medini established a yeshiva in Chevron and supported it with his meager funds, even drawing from money he had set aside for the publication of the Sdei Chemed. When asked how he could do such a thing, he responded that a living Torah scholar is more valuable than a book.
Due to the reputation of the Sdei Chemed, the yeshiva attracted some of the finest young scholars in Eretz Yisrael. One of his students was the renowned Rav Avraham Chaim Naeh.
In Chevron, the Sdei Chemed also focused on the needs of the community as a whole. Each day, he would stay in the shul, saying Tehillim for an hour between Mincha and Maariv along with the rest of the community. When someone asked him why he did this instead of learning, he responded, “If I neglect this community minhag, the whole value and importance of that hour spent saying Tehillim will become meaningless to the kehilla. That is why I must be present — to give it significance.”
Rav Medini’s integrity and greatness earned him the respect of even the Arab inhabitants of Chevron. Due to his influence, many attacks on Chevron’s Jews were averted. When the local rulers summoned the Sdei Chemed for a public tax meeting, they treated him with great respect, apologizing for the summons and occasionally asking for his blessing.
In 1905, Rabbi Medini became very ill. The Rabbanim of Chevron composed a special tefilla, titled “A Prayer for Chizkiya in His Illness,” alluding to the great King Chizkiyahu, who had been gravely ill, recovered, and was granted 15 more years of life. The Sdei Chemed was niftar shortly thereafter, just before Chanukah on the 24th of Kislev. He is buried in Chevron.
A False Accusation
Looking back at his life, the Sdei Chemed offered his own insight on the tremendous siyata dishmaya he had, in what is probably the most famous story about the Sdei Chemed.
It was well known that the Sdei Chemed was outstanding in his Torah learning, and one of his contemporaries became envious of him. In a fit of jealousy, he bribed the non-Jewish cleaning girl to accuse the Sdei Chemed of trying to assault her in the beis midrash. She agreed and ran into the streets shouting that the Sdei Chemed had attempted to act inappropriately to her.
The onlookers were shocked, and yet, the Sdei Chemed ignored the whole scene and continued to learn with tranquility, despite being publicly libeled and shamed. Unsure of how to handle the situation and certain that the Sdei Chemed was innocent, the Rav of the community ordered the cleaning girl fired.
A while later, this cleaning girl had no money left because the bribe money was used up. She also could not work, since, due to this incident, no one would hire her to clean their homes. She approached the Sdei Chemed, admitting that she had made up the whole story because another man had bribed her to accuse him. She suggested that she would tell the entire story in public, that the Sdei Chemed would be cleared, and that she could then have her job back.
Taken aback, the Sdei Chemed thought it over. He realized that although the lady’s confession would clear his own name, it would be a terrible chillul Hashem regarding the man who had bribed her. Therefore, the Sdei Chemed responded that instead of creating a public spectacle, he would find her a new job.
Years later, the Sdei Chemed told over this incident to a talmid. He related that after it occurred, he felt his eyes were opened to learning to a much greater extent than before. He mused that it was either because of his own self-restraint in the face of such humiliation or because of his concern to prevent chillul Hashem that Hashem had granted him so much hatzlacha. The Sdei Chemed also conjectured that it was in this merit that his sefer, Sdei Chemed, was so widely accepted.
Most of us are not capable of writing a Sdei Chemed nor leading an entire community back to Torah and mitzvos. Yet, the Sdei Chemed’s life reminds us that some things that we consider impossible can be within reach if we want it enough. One hundred and twenty years later, this legacy continues to shine brightly.
Rabbi Menachem Levine is the CEO of JDBY-YTT, the largest Jewish school in the Midwest. He served as Rabbi of Congregation Am Echad in San Jose, CA, from 2007 to 2020. He is a popular speaker and writes for numerous publications on Torah, Jewish History, and Contemporary Jewish Topics. Rabbi Levine’s personal website is https://thinktorah.org
A version of this article was printed in Hamodia’s weekly newspaper on December 10, 2025.
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Fire at Mississippi’s largest synagogue under federal investigation after arrest
A suspect is in custody as authorities investigate a weekend fire that damaged Mississippi’s largest synagogue, which has been attacked before.
The fire broke out around 3 a.m. Saturday at Beth Israel Congregation, the only synagogue in Jackson, the state capital. Investigators said the blaze originated in the synagogue’s library, burning it and the offices. Soot and smoke damaged the rest of the building, including the sanctuary.
Two of the synagogue’s Torahs, kept in the library, were burned in the fire; another five in the sanctuary were damaged. An additional Torah, rescued from the Holocaust, was behind a glass case and survived the fire.
“At this time, we do have a person in custody for the fire,” said Division Fire Chief Charles Felton, who is overseeing the investigation. The arrest was made at about 8 p.m. Saturday, he said.
Felton said the FBI is now involved and is expected to pursue federal charges, including determining whether the fire qualifies as a hate crime. Local authorities made the initial arrest before federal investigators stepped in, he said.
A reporter who was inside the building before federal authorities secured the scene described extensive damage. Allen Siegler, a reporter with Mississippi Today, said the interior was “very dark and ashen.”
“It was wet — puddles of ashes,” Siegler told the Forward.

Jackson Mayor John Horhn said the fire was an attack not only on the Jewish community, but on the city itself.
“Acts of antisemitism, racism, and religious hatred are attacks on Jackson as a whole and will be treated as acts of terror against residents’ safety and freedom to worship,” Horhn said in a statement. “Jackson stands with Beth Israel and the Jewish community, and we’ll do everything we can to support them and hold accountable anyone who tries to spread fear and hate here.”
A congregation shaped by fire — and defiance
Beth Israel Congregation, which counts around 150 member families, has anchored Jewish life in Jackson since the Civil War, its history closely tracking both the growth of the city and the persistence of a small but visible Jewish community in Mississippi’s capital.
Founded in the early 1860s, the congregation built Mississippi’s first synagogue — a modest structure on South State Street that doubled as a schoolhouse. It burned in an 1874 fire, a common fate of 19th century wooden buildings, though the cause of the fire is not recorded. The congregation built a new brick structure on the same site, dedicated in 1875.
As Jewish families moved within Jackson, Beth Israel moved with them, relocating first to Woodrow Wilson Avenue and, in the 1960s, to its current home in northeast Jackson.
By the mid-20th century, Beth Israel had become the largest Jewish congregation in the state and a familiar civic presence in a predominantly Christian city — a visibility that brought both belonging and risk.
In September 1967, Ku Klux Klan members bombed the synagogue just weeks after the building was dedicated, damaging the rabbi’s office and library. The home of Rabbi Perry Nussbaum, a vocal supporter of the civil rights movement who had helped the Freedom Riders, was also bombed shortly afterward. No one was injured, and the congregation held High Holiday services in the building that same year.
Rabbi Valerie Cohen, who led Beth Israel from 2003 to 2014 and is now at Temple Emanuel Sinai in Worcester, Massachusetts, said the echoes between past and present were impossible to miss.
“The majority of the damage is in the same place as the bombing,” said Cohen, 54.

The fire felt especially disorienting, she said, because she had been inside the building just days earlier.
“That made this moment sad and surreal and awful,” Cohen said. “I was just there last Shabbat, officiating at a wedding for one of my bar mitzvah students from there that is all grown up now. I participated in the Torah study on Saturday morning in the library, led by their current spiritual leader.”
Cohen described Beth Israel as “very resilient throughout the years” and “very integral” to the Jackson community, noting that many non-Jewish residents know the synagogue through its longtime preschool and annual bazaar.
Despite the damage, congregants say Jewish life in Jackson will continue.
Tamar Sharp, 67, a member of Beth Israel since 2006, is scheduled to celebrate her adult bat mitzvah this coming Shabbat — even if it must be held in a borrowed space with a borrowed Torah.
“Absolutely,” Sharp said. “The show must go on.”
The post Fire at Mississippi’s largest synagogue under federal investigation after arrest appeared first on The Forward.
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An arsonist torched a Mississippi synagogue. It feels hauntingly familiar.
A Mississippi synagogue has just been destroyed by hateful actors – and it is not the first time.
I am talking about what happened Saturday morning. An arsonist set fire to the historic Beth Israel Congregation in Jackson, Mississippi. By the time the flames were extinguished, much of the building was destroyed and rendered unusable.
According to reporting by Mississippi Insider, the fire tore through parts of the building, damaging sacred objects, prayer books, and decades of communal memory. Firefighters were able to prevent a total collapse, but the synagogue — founded in 1860 and one of the oldest Jewish congregations in the state — will not be able to function as a house of worship for the foreseeable future.
I am experiencing historical déjà vu. On September 18, 1967, white supremacists bombed Beth Israel in retaliation for the civil rights activism of its rabbi, Perry Nussbaum. Rabbi Nussbaum was a visible ally of Black leaders in Jackson, including Medgar Evers, and his moral courage made him a target. Shortly thereafter, they bombed Rabbi Nussbaum’s home as well. He survived. The building was rebuilt.
Those attacks followed a grim and unmistakable American tradition. For several years, I served The Temple in Atlanta, and congregants still spoke in hushed tones about where they were on the morning of October 12, 1958, when The Temple was bombed by white supremacists angered by Rabbi Jacob Rothschild’s outspoken support for civil rights. That bombing is often remembered as the most infamous attack on a religious building in American history, but what many forget is that it did not stand alone. In the year leading up to it, synagogues in Miami, Nashville, Birmingham, and Jacksonville were also bombed.
Synagogues have succumbed to flames throughout Jewish history. On Kristallnacht, November 9–10, 1938, the Nazis and their collaborators burned or destroyed more than 1,400 synagogues across Germany and Austria. That night was not a spontaneous riot; it was a dress rehearsal for annihilation. And the line of fire stretches further back still, to the Roman destruction of the Second Temple in 70 CE, and before that to the Babylonian destruction of the First Temple in 586 BCE.
Beth Israel is not just a building. It is a witness. It is a repository of Jewish persistence in a place where Jews have lived as a tiny minority for generations, carving out space for faith, community, and civic engagement in the Deep South. To see it burned is to feel a familiar Jewish nausea, the sickening recognition that this story has been told before — far too many times.
Beth Israel in Jackson burned on Shabbat, coinciding with the Torah portion of Shemot, as we read in the book of Exodus about the burning bush — a bush that burns but is not consumed by flames. Such is Jewish history.
An American tradition?
What disturbs me most is not only the act itself, but its familiarity.
I mentioned my time in Atlanta. I also served as a rabbi in Columbus, Georgia. When I look back on my career, I realize that I have spent no fewer than twenty years serving Jewish communities in the South — and yes, I include South Florida in that number.
During those years, I learned a profound respect for Jews in small Southern communities who tenaciously maintain their synagogues in the face of demographic shrinkage, economic pressure, and cultural isolation. When those synagogues close, as too many do, the community must make sure that there are homes for their Torah scrolls and ritual objects. This is sacred labor, often carried out quietly and without recognition.
Most Americans do not realize that a surprisingly large percentage of Reform synagogues in this country look far more like Beth Israel in Jackson than like the caricature of the large, affluent suburban congregation. The heart of Reform Judaism beats in small, struggling, historic communities. That is why the fire in Jackson sears the Jewish soul. It could be any synagogue. And in my darkest fears, I believe there will be more.
Right about now, some of you are saying, “Well, what did you expect? Look at what has happened in Gaza, and the Palestinians, and Netanyahu…”
If you are saying this, your foolishness betrays you. No one vandalizes Russian Orthodox churches in America because of Vladimir Putin. No one boycotts Chinese restaurants because of China’s persecution of the Uyghurs. And no one should ever suggest that victims of violent bigotry are responsible for the hatred directed at them. We would never say this about any other group. We must not say it about Jews.
The raw truth is what historian Pamela Nadell names so clearly in her indispensable new book, Antisemitism: An American Tradition.
Pamela does not only name and record the incidents of antisemitism that have occurred over the years. She shows that antisemitism is, in fact, an American tradition. It has always been with us, sometimes polite, sometimes lethal, often lying dormant like an autoimmune disease, flaring up when fear, desperation, and social change demand a scapegoat.
An issue for all faiths
Not only because of what has happened, but because of what I fear will follow — not only imitation, but silence. As I write these words, I do not know whether this arson will merit national attention, whether it will appear in The New York Times or vanish into the vast archive of shrugged-off hate. I hope my fears are wrong.
I also wonder who will speak. Will our most trusted chroniclers of American moral life take notice? I admire historian Heather Cox Richardson deeply, and I hope she will address antisemitism with the same moral clarity she brings to other threats to democracy. Because it cannot be that even in the warmest of hearts there is a cold spot for the Jews.
I often think of an artifact I have seen at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C. It is a Torah ark ripped from the wall of a synagogue in Essen, Germany, hurled into the street. Carved into it are the words, “Know before whom you stand.” But those words were deliberately chiseled away by a vandal, as if to declare that there is no one before whom we stand, no God whose presence must be reckoned with — because we are destroying the place where that God so often comes to dwell.
That is why I am turning now to my readers who are not Jewish. I am calling on Christian pastors, Muslim imams, and religious leaders of every tradition to denounce what happened in Jackson this coming weekend. Because just as we rightly said when Black churches were burned, any attack on a house of worship is not only an attack on one community. It is an assault on the very idea that holiness has a place in public life.
And that, ultimately, is an attack on God.
The post An arsonist torched a Mississippi synagogue. It feels hauntingly familiar. appeared first on The Forward.
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Can Breads Bakery workers really demand that the Israeli owners cut ties with Israel? Labor experts weigh in.
(New York Jewish Week) — The news that workers at Breads Bakery, an Israeli chain in New York City, were demanding “an end to this company’s support of the genocide happening in Palestine” as part of a union push has triggered concerns among those worried about surging anti-Israel sentiment in the United States.
“This is going to spread,” Deborah Lipstadt, the former United States special envoy for monitoring and combating antisemitism, wrote on X Thursday. “This is not spontaneous, This is part of an effort to marginalize Jews and Israel.”
But is an Israel boycott as a union demand even possible to achieve? Do workers have rights when it comes to protecting their beliefs about Israel? What role are unions playing in anti-Israel advocacy? And what might happen next at Breads?
To answer these questions, we reached out to two labor scholars — Harry C. Katz, the director of the Scheinman Institute on Conflict Resolution at Cornell University, and Samuel Estreicher, an attorney and scholar on labor and employment law and arbitration law at New York University. We also visited a rally by Breads’ supporters on the Upper West Side on Friday afternoon.
Here’s what we learned.
Is it common for workers to press for political concessions as part of their unionization efforts?
The Breaking Breads workers are doing something unusual, Katz said. He said he was not aware of other examples of employees making demands related to Israel as part of a unionization effort.
“There are unions who have taken out political stances, but the stances are ‘we oppose the Netanyahu government,’ or ‘we oppose the invasion of Gaza,’ ‘we are sympathetic to BDS,’” he said. “They’re allowed to take that stance, but they have not done what you’re asking about.”
Of course, unions can and do use their might to advance political agendas. But that often happens in the advocacy space, with unions reminding decision-makers that they represent a powerful voting bloc, not in bargaining within individual units.
The insertion of Israel demands in a unionization announcement reflects an anti-Israel swing within swaths of organized labor in the United States and beyond.
In December 2023, United Auto Workers, the union that Breaking Breads has filed under, became the largest union to call for a ceasefire in Gaza. It was a sharp departure for the union, which had previously been staunchly supportive of Israel.
In March 2025, UAW came to the defense of two members at Columbia University who had been involved in pro-Palestinian protests there, including Grant Miner, who headed a union chapter representing 3,000 undergraduate and graduate students employed at the school before being expelled.
The “assault on First Amendment rights being jointly committed by the federal government and Columbia University are an attack on all workers who dare to protest, speak out, or exercise their freedom of association under the US Constitution,” UAW said in a statement at the time.
UAW national and the local group representing Breaking Breads, as the union is calling itself, both did not respond to a request for comment.
What are the chances of the Breads workers getting what they want when it comes to Israel?
Slim to none, Katz and Estreicher both said.
For one thing, it’s far from assured that Breaking Breads will even succeed in being recognized as a bargaining union. The employees announced that “over 30%” of Breads’ workers had signed onto the unionized effort, the minimum required under federal labor law — and far less than most unions announce themselves with.
The threshold allows the workers to petition the National Labor Relations Board to hold a union election. In an election, more than half of workers who participate must support the formation of the union for one to be created.
“Thirty percent is an extremely low level of support through the signing of authorization cards,” Katz said. “For them to say, ‘Oh, they have a bit over 30%,’ that suggests they’re going to have an extremely difficult time if this goes to an election.”
Then, even if the union does meet the legal threshold for recognition, Breads is under no legal obligation to engage on issues related to Israel.
“Workers don’t have a right to tell management what management wants to do with its own funds, or personal beliefs and political views regarding Israel,” Katz said. “The law requires bargaining in good faith about wages and other employment conditions. That’s the requirement.”
The workers are alleging a range of unfair employment practices, including low wages, irregular schedules and unsafe working conditions. If their union is recognized, Breads will have to negotiate a contract addressing those issues — and will have to comply or risk a strike.
But on the off chance that questions about Israel somehow make it to the bargaining table, “management can refuse to discuss it,” Katz said.
Breads has indicated that it does not believe political issues are appropriate fodder for negotiation.
“We’ve always been a workplace where people of all backgrounds and viewpoints can come together around a shared purpose, the joy found at a bakery,” it said in a statement responding to the announcement of Breaking Breads. “We find it troubling that divisive political issues are being introduced into our workplace.”
Estreicher put it simply: “They can say whatever they want,” he said about the workers. But Israel-related issues would never be considered a “mandatory subject of bargaining” like wages and working conditions, and workers could be fired if they strike over the issues.
Since there isn’t actually a union yet, can Breads just fire the workers making the anti-Israel demands now?
Some of Breads’ supporters have called for the company to fire the workers who are agitating against its ties to Israel.
“I don’t understand why the owners [don’t] simply fire the so-called unionizing staff. New York is an at-will employer. They’re creating a hostile work environment,” one commenter wrote on an Instagram post by pro-Israel influence Lizzy Savetsky decrying the workers’ demand. “There’s the door, ungrateful employees. Feel free to take a loaf with you on the way out.”
https://www.instagram.com/p/DTRF-49kXBW/?hl=en
But firing workers who joined Breaking Breads would be a problem, Katz said, even though they don’t formally have a union yet.
“Management often gets away, due to the weakness in the enforcement of our labor laws, … with the firing of union sympathizers and activists,” Katz said. “But that is technically illegal. It’s illegal for management to fire people because of their views towards the union or their activism within the union.”
Do workers have a protected right to refuse to work on a specific job that offends their beliefs, including about Israel?
One of Breaking Breads’ objections was to catering events that it said involved groups with ties to Israel or to producing custom loaves decorated with Israeli flags.
The question is not the same as the one that recently occupied the Supreme Court, when it ruled on cases about small-business providers — including a wedding cake maker — who declined to serve same-sex clients, citing religious beliefs.
Those cases were about whether the government could compel a business to create custom content that violates the owner’s beliefs — and the court ruled it could not. But workers do not have the same protections individually, nor do they have the right to impose their beliefs on their employer.
“It’s the employer’s business, not their business. That’s my position. I think that’s the legal position,” Estreicher said. “People have all kinds of views with different things. Anyway, an employer should be able to make clear that he makes the decision on who the customers are, and they can’t interfere with that.”
Workers would likely also have a difficult time seeking redress against their employer for serving specific customers against their beliefs, Katz said.
Contract violation claims go to third parties known as arbitrators, who rule whether management ran afoul of its contract with the union and what penalty, if any, should be applied.
As an example, Katz said, “A Palestinian employee says in this case: ‘I’m baking cookies that get eaten or sold at an event that supports Israel.’ I can’t imagine an arbitrator would say you have a right to refuse that kind of work.”
Estreicher said one Israel-related claim by Breaking Breads could be appropriate grounds for redress, if true. The workers said Breads had told workers they could not speak Arabic on the job — a demand that may run afoul of employment law.
“If they’re in public contact jobs, I think they can [have that rule], but there are legal issues about if they’re not in public contact jobs,” Estreicher said. “If they’re in the kitchen, having a prohibition would be problematic.”
What happens next at Breads?
When it comes to the unionization effort, it could be several weeks before there are clear developments. Employers can choose to recognize unions voluntarily, but if they do not, the National Labor Relations Board typically makes a decision about whether it will support an election within about 45 days. Elections are then held several weeks to months after that.
For now, the popular bakery appears to be reaping positive dividends from its workers’ dissatisfaction. Fans of the bakery and pro-Israel activists have asked the New York City Jewish community to buy their products, and even offered to work for Breads for free.
A few hundred showed up at a Friday gathering to buy a coffee or a snack and hang out at the Upper West Side location, called for by pro-Israel activist Shai Davidai.
“We are dealing with an ideological war, and that ideological war says that if you are a Zionist, if you believe that Israel has a right to exist, if you’re a proud Jew, then you don’t deserve to live here,” Davidai said.
Davidai stressed that the event was all about showing strength in numbers.
“We want to show here a Jewish, Zionist business, that we have their back, and they won’t be cowered by a loud and nasty minority that wants to ruin things for everybody,” Davidai said.
“This isn’t just about buying products,” he added. “So first thing, [almost] everyone who’s buying a product is wearing a sticker that says, ‘Zionist,’ right? So the cashier, the employees, the business owner, and everyone on the street sees that we are coming out as Zionists. We’re not hiding anymore.”
By about 12:10 p.m., the fast-moving line at Breads’ Upper West Side location had begun to wrap around the block. Parents had brought babies, and people of all ages waited in line, as new customers arriving at the scene ended their FaceTime calls — some in Hebrew, some in English — by describing the scene to the person on the other end of the line. Some customers came alone and met new faces while waiting in line; others came with friends.
“Today, they are not just trying to bite the hand that feeds them, they’re trying to gnaw it off,” said Judy, a longtime Upper West Side resident who declined to share her last name, about the workers. “That’s what I was thinking all last night. It’s preposterous. It’s ludicrous. It’s beyond reproach.”
Colleagues Marc Rodriguez and Max Lippman waited in the middle of the line, and, like many, were hoping to land one of Breads’ award-winning babkas.
Rodriguez, who is not Jewish or Israeli but whose wife is both and whose children are Jewish, said he felt obligated to support the store, which he is a fan of and had been to in Israel. He brought a small Israeli flag, and wore one of the “Zionist” stickers that Davidai had handed out.
“I want to support the store, support the owners, and I want to remind the workers over here who is supporting this store, and who is patronizing the store,” Rodriguez said. “I think it’s a nice, respectful way to show support. We’re not shouting, we’re here. We’re all smiling, happy, talking. And also, I’m so excited for carbs.”
Lippman, who is from the Upper West Side, heard about the call to head to Breads on social media.
“In general I’m pro-union,” he said. “But once part of that is saying that they’re anti-Zionist, that seems unnecessary. It’s an Israeli-owned bakery. We’re here to show our support. It seems unnecessary when forming a union to state your beliefs on Israel. It doesn’t matter who the owners are,” Lippman added. “We’re just here to support the bakery and the babka makes that easy.”
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