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An 1859 fight over how to make matzah has lessons about the threat of AI today
(JTA) — In the last few months the world has been dazzled by an astonishing sequence of AI systems capable of performing all kinds of difficult tasks — writing code, composing poetry, generating artwork, passing exams — with a level of competence that rivals or exceeds what humans can do. The existence of these AIs has prompted all manner of soul-searching about the nature of humanity. It has also made many people wonder which human tasks are about to be taken over by machines.
The capabilities of these AIs are new and revolutionary, but the story of machines taking over human jobs is not. In Jewish history the most important story of that transition has to do with matzah, and it’s a story that carries important lessons for the present day.
Starting 164 years ago, dozens of European rabbis engaged in a furious debate that would not be fully resolved until the beginning of the 20th century. Matzah, which for millennia had been made by human hands in accordance with the narrow constraints of Jewish law, could now be processed with a series of machines that promised huge savings of time and money. As town after town adopted these machines, opposition began to rise, until it exploded in 1859 with the publication of “An Alert for Israel,” a collection of letters from prestigious rabbis, who adamantly argued that for anyone interested in following the laws of Passover a matzah made with a machine was no better than a loaf of bread.
The arguments for this position were many, but all will sound familiar to anyone following the AI conversation. Like today, some objected to the machines just because they were new and different, but most had more specific concerns. First, there was the matter of lost jobs. In many parts of Europe matzah was made by the poorest members of society, who were given the job as a way to help them raise money before one of the most cost-intensive holidays of the year. Ceding this job to machines would take work from those who could least afford it.
It takes about 20 seconds in a 1,300-degree, coal-and-wood-fired oven to bake shmurah matzah to perfection. (Uriel Heilman)
Beyond economics, there was concern that the machines just weren’t as reliable as people, especially given the rules around matzah-making outlined in Jewish law. What if bits of dough got trapped in the gears, quietly leavening for hours and unknowingly ruining whole batches of matzah in the process? What if the trays warmed the dough too fast? Without proper oversight, how could you trust your own food?
Finally, some objected to the loss of a literal human touch. Jewish law stated that matzah was supposed to be made by people who knew they were baking matzah. A machine, no matter how sophisticated, didn’t “know” anything. How could you eat matzah on Passover knowing that this most important food was made by a mindless machine?
The responses didn’t take long to arrive. “A Cancellation of the Alert,” a collection published the very same yearr, forcefully argued that machine matzah was perfectly fine — and possibly even better than the human product. No, inventions aren’t inherently bad. No, the machines wouldn’t harm the poor, because the machines made matzah less expensive for everyone. No, the machines weren’t prone to error — and they certainly weren’t more error-prone than lazy, careless humans. No, the machines didn’t know what they were doing — but the people who built them did, and wasn’t that enough?
The machines eventually won, but then something happened that I don’t think either side anticipated. With Manichewitz’s machine matzahs claiming most of the American market by the early 20th century, it was now the handmade matzah makers who were on the back foot; it was they and not the machines who needed to demonstrate that they were up to the difficult task of preparing this food with the efficiency and reliability of the machines.
The result is more than a little tragic. Matzah is the Jewish food with the deepest origins of all — deeper than brisket, deeper than latkes, deeper even than challah — and yet it is the ritual food most likely to be picked up at the supermarket and least likely to be made at home. While there are still communities today that exclusively eat handmade matzah, even this job is now largely outsourced to just a few companies that resemble their machine-driven counterparts in scale. While teachers will sometimes demonstrate how to make matzah for educational purposes, across the religious spectrum the era of locally made matzah is over.
Despite the fact that it’s hard to imagine a simpler baked good — matzah is just flour and water, and it’s literally illegal to spend more than 18 minutes making it — its production is treated as though it is only slightly less complicated than constructing a jet engine, and people are worried about shortages as though matzah were a natural resource or an advanced microchip. The transition has been so complete that we barely remember there was a transition at all.
Baked matzah coming out of the oven at Streit’s Matzo factory on Manhattan’s Lower East Side, date unknown. (Courtesy Streit’s Matzo)
Did the rabbis pushing for machine matzah know this was going to happen? Almost certainly not. The economic impact of machine labor is relatively easy to predict, but the psychological and cultural effects are a lot harder. There was probably no way of knowing how machines would change the way we thought about matzah in the long run, but today it’s clear that automating this ancient task has changed our own relationship to Passover’s central food — and because the change has resulted in a lot of alienation from matzah production, I’m not so sure it was a change for the better. Making matzah locally could have been a way to feel connected to the ancient Israelites, who left Egypt so fast that they didn’t have time to make anything else. Instead of emulating this ad-hoc food, we optimized it for cost and efficiency, in the process turning matzah into just another specialty cracker on the grocery store shelf. Was it really worth it?
It’s probably a bit much to say that OpenAI is just a modern Manischewitz, but the parallels between the debate about machine-generated matzah and the present debate about machine-generated everything are useful for considering how short-term policy choices around AI won’t necessarily capture all of the technology’s long-term effects on how human beings want to spend their time. When we relinquish an activity to an AI for economic reasons, we may eventually come to believe that humans are no longer qualified to do the task at all.
Then as now we must balance our economic needs against our ideas about what kinds of activities make for a good and fulfilling life.
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The biggest impediment to peace between Israelis and Palestinians has little to do with Gaza
The Gaza war may finally be over, and the idea of a Palestinian state has returned to the center of global discourse. But before it can become a reality, Palestinians will need to carry less suspicion and hatred toward Israel — which means Israel must give them fewer reasons to cultivate those reactions.
An investigation from last week by my former colleagues at The Associated Press helps show how distant we are from that outcome — not just in Gaza, but also in the West Bank.
The investigation found that, according to United Nations data that Israel does not dispute, live Israeli fire has killed at least 18 children under the age of 15 in the West Bank this year. It killed 29 children in 2023, and 23 in 2024.
Some were killed during Israeli military raids in crowded neighborhoods, others by sniper fire in calm areas. The army told AP that its open-fire regulations prohibit deliberate targeting and that it had launched some investigations. But it did not say whether anyone had been punished. The families of the deceased children report receiving little information from the army about the circumstances of their deaths, or any consequences meted out in reaction to them.
Israel’s security concerns about the West Bank are legitimate. The strategic ridge surrounds Jerusalem on three sides and overlooks Tel Aviv and the coastal plain. An attack from there could be catastrophic; if a group like Hamas were ever to take control there, the consequences are dire.
But the need for Israel’s security cannot justify the killing of children — not one, not 18, not 29. So long as the Palestinians of the West Bank live in fear of their own children joining those grim ranks, there cannot be a chance for a real, lasting peace.
Consider just some of the children killed this year, whose stories AP collected:
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- Layla, age 2: Tayma Asous, a single mother in the Jenin refugee camp, said that on Jan. 25, while her daughter Layla sat on her lap, an Israeli sniper fired through their second-floor window. The bullet struck Laila in the skull. Her grandfather lifted her and ran downstairs shouting for help. Layla, who was breathing when the ambulance arrived, died en route to the hospital. The army said it is still investigating, and could not provide details.
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- Rimas, age 13: On Feb. 21 — the 32nd day of an Israeli operation in Jenin — Rimas Amouri went to play outside, even though her mother, Rudaina, objected. Seconds after she left, Rudaina heard gunfire and screams. “They shot her in the back,” Rudaina said. “I screamed, ‘Please stop, stop!’ Then they started shooting at me.” About 10 soldiers surrounded the house and fired on her when she tried to reach her daughter, she said. Rimas’ father said the family required a special Israeli permit to bury her. The army said the case is under investigation, but shared no further details.
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- Mahmoud, age 14: On Jan. 14, a group of men gathered outside the Garabiya family home in Jenin. when one missile hit, then another, then a third. Only Ashraf Garabiya survived. Six people, including his son, were killed. The army said the airstrike had targeted several militants and that it was “aware of claims” of a civilian casualty. No indication of an investigation was given.
It goes on and on.
In Tulkarem, 10-year-old Saddam Rajab was caught on security footage standing on the sidewalk, turning, then being caught in a burst of gunfire and falling. He cried for his mother and died 10 days later. In Turmus Ayya, 14-year-old Amer Rabee, a Palestinian-American born in New Jersey, was shot while picking almonds with two friends, who were injured. His father said soldiers fired dozens of rounds, stripped the boy’s body, and carried it off; the army later described the victims as “three terrorists” throwing stones. In Hebron, 12-year-old Ayman al-Haimouni told his mother, “Mama, they shot me,” before collapsing. Video shows soldiers approaching his body, recoiling, and walking away without offering aid. The military police opened an investigation that has yielded no result.
Although the situation has grown especially horrible under Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s government, the phenomenon is not new. The Israeli philosopher and academic Yeshayahu Leibowitz warned in the early days of the occupation of the West Bank and Gaza, after the 1967 Six-Day War, that this new reality would corrupt Israeli society and devastate its moral standing.
He was not wrong. My own experience as a reporter working in and around the West Bank confronted me many times with this clear and painful fact.
The newborn baby of one Palestinian AP photographer, in the Nablus area, experienced a medical emergency; the baby died while the ambulance carrying it was delayed by Israeli troops at a checkpoint in 2002. A year later, a cameraman with whom I regularly worked, Nazeeh Darwazeh, was killed by a random bullet fired by an Israeli soldier. I remember visiting the family, and trying to console the widow and his children. They were heartbroken.
These kinds of things simply happen all the time.
Aren’t these stories, repeated so frequently after so many decades, enough to boil the blood of any normal person? How would any supporter of Israel react if this kind of indiscriminate, senseless violence happened in Israel, and the army responsible was Palestinian? If that army kept claiming that it would investigate these awful and useless slaughters, but it was obvious that any form of punishment was all but nonexistent?
Add to the mix that Netanyahu’s reckless government has normalized settler rampages, the perpetrators of which are almost never punished. Unforgivably, Israel has prosecuted few if any of the settlers who regularly rampage through Palestinian communities in what is a clear provocation aimed at creating mayhem. Settler violence, with the winks and nods of the government, is at a high — and when they are detained it is usually for assaults on Israeli soldiers, not Palestinians.
Many Israelis fear that these reckless settler provocations will unleash a third intifada. But to some far-right radicals, that would be a welcome development, as they hope for a massive war in which the Palestinians might be somehow expelled — the same outcome some far-right Israelis very plainly wished for in the Gaza war.
Israelis who have the courage to face the truth must ask themselves sincerely: How can we accept this state of affairs? How can we explain to the world — and to ourselves — that this is reasonable and moral? Is this “the fight against terror”? How can we expect our Palestinian neighbors to want to work with us toward peace?
Something is clearly sick to the core. The way out of this bloody cycle is through a true and clear separation between Israelis and Palestinians, with hope for a normal life on both sides. If this continues, more violence is likely, and the outcome may not be good for Israel — or anyone.
The post The biggest impediment to peace between Israelis and Palestinians has little to do with Gaza appeared first on The Forward.
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Pakistan-Afghanistan Clashes Highlight Limits of Saudi-Pakistani Defense Pact: Experts
Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman and Pakistan Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif embrace each other on the day they sign a defense agreement, in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, Sept. 17, 2025. Photo: Saudi Press Agency/Handout via REUTERS
Amid rising tensions along the Pakistan-Afghanistan border, experts say the newly signed Saudi-Pakistani mutual defense pact is largely symbolic and unlikely to alter the regional balance of power.
On Friday, Afghanistan accused Pakistan of carrying out airstrikes on its territory, shattering a temporary ceasefire after days of escalating clashes that marked the deadliest fighting along the border in years.
“The truce has been broken and Afghanistan will retaliate,” a spokesman for the Taliban-led Afghan government said in a statement, announcing that Pakistan had “broken the ceasefire and bombed three locations in Paktika,” a province in the country’s eastern region.
Earlier this week, the two nations had agreed to a 48-hour ceasefire after border clashes killed dozens of troops.
The conflict erupted after Pakistan accused its neighbor of harboring and supporting terrorist groups responsible for attacks on its territory, while Afghanistan accused Pakistan of violating its airspace and carrying out strikes in the country’s eastern regions.
The fragile ceasefire came after appeals from major regional powers, including Saudi Arabia, with which nuclear-armed Pakistan signed a mutual defense pact last month, further solidifying a decades-long security partnership.
According to experts, the recent regional escalation shows how the Saudi-Pakistan partnership is largely symbolic, offering diplomatic backing and condemnation but unlikely to be tested in practice.
“”The recent Pakistan-Afghanistan clashes are unlikely to lead to invocation of the Saudi-Pakistan defense pact,” Edmund Fitton-Brown, a senior fellow at the Foundation for Defense of Democracies (FDD), a Washington, DC-based think tank, told The Algemeiner.
He explained that the threat from Afghanistan, while politically serious, is not strong enough to push Pakistan to seek support from a third party, since the country is far stronger than the hostile forces along the contentious border.
“The Saudis, as central players in the Islamic world, will also want to be seen as welcoming Afghanistan’s gradual rehabilitation,” Brown said, noting that even if the pact were invoked, it is unlikely they would want to intervene in the conflict.
More broadly, he argued that this recent escalation underscores the limits of the Saudi-Pakistan defense pact, emphasizing that “most of the challenges that both countries face do not rise to the level of war between states.”
“”The possible war scenarios that do exist — Pakistan with India, Saudi Arabia with Iran — are not ones in which the other party to the pact would want to get involved, and it is inconceivable that Pakistan is offering a nuclear guarantee to the Saudis,” Brown told The Algemeiner.
Pakistan has repeatedly argued that its nuclear weapons are intended solely as a deterrent against India.
As the only nuclear-armed, Muslim-majority nation with the Islamic world’s largest army, Pakistan’s newly signed defense pact has raised questions about shifts in Middle East power and regional dynamics.
“”The agreement states that any aggression against either country shall be considered an aggression against both,” the Pakistani Prime Minister’s Office said in a statement following the signing of the pact.
While no further details have been disclosed, the partnership reportedly “encompasses all military means,” ranging from armed forces and nuclear cooperation to intelligence sharing.
Pakistan has even openly declared that it “”will make available” its nuclear program to Saudi Arabia if needed.
However, experts maintain that Pakistan’s ability to provide a nuclear umbrella to Saudi Arabia is dubious, as its longest-range missile cannot reach most potential threats to the country.
“The deal’s military value appears negligible beyond its symbolic photo-op,” Brown told The Algemeiner. “Pakistan lacks the capability to project power over 2,600 miles to Saudi Arabia.”
The pact is also designed to strengthen Saudi Arabia’s long-term defense autonomy, with defense industry collaboration, technology transfer, and military co-production and training, among other key initiatives.
Although the Saudi-Pakistani relationship has long been close, Brown explained that mutual support between the two nations has faced significant limitations.
“This new mutual defense pact is likely to remain a symbolic agreement, with its main applicability in nonbelligerent arenas, such as training and procurement,” he told The Algemiener.
Experts have also noted that the new pact could heighten regional tensions, strengthening Saudi Arabia’s defenses against Iran and its allies while also signaling its strategic posture toward Israel.
Yet, Brown argued that it makes little sense to suggest the pact is directed at Israel, given there is no realistic prospect of conflict between the Jewish state and either Saudi Arabia or Pakistan, whereas Iran remains far more active against both countries.
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An attack on Israeli soccer fans last year was dubbed a ‘pogrom.’ Could it happen again?
When fans of the soccer team Maccabi Tel Aviv were assaulted in the streets of Amsterdam after a game last November, the violence drew comparisons to pogroms. It even prompted Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu to dispatch rescue planes to evacuate Israeli citizens.
Now, once again there are fears of a repeat outbreak of violence, this time over a match in Birmingham, England.
Local police reportedly requested supporters of Maccabi Tel Aviv be kept away from the match against the English team Aston Villa, classifying the sporting event as a “high risk” threat to public safety. On Thursday, authorities told Israeli fans they would be banned from attending.
But after that move sparked accusations of antisemitism, the British government said it is doing “everything in its power” to reverse the decision and let Israeli fans buy tickets.
“This is the wrong decision. We will not tolerate antisemitism on our streets,” Prime Minister Keir Starmer posted to X. “The role of the police is to ensure all football fans can enjoy the game, without fear of violence or intimidation.”
What happened at the game in Amsterdam?
The day before a November 2024 game against the Dutch team AFC Ajax, Maccabi Tel Aviv fans vandalized a taxi and burned a Palestinian flag, police said.
After the game, groups of men on scooters roamed the streets looking for Israeli fans, beating and kicking them and throwing fireworks, police said. At least five Israelis were hospitalized, and more than 60 people were arrested. Authorities uncovered WhatsApp and Telegram messages prior to the attacks urging a “Jew hunt.”
Amsterdam Mayor Femke Halsema called the attacks “antisemitic hit-and-run squads.” Others drew Holocaust comparisons, with Netanyahu noting the assaults took place near the anniversary of Kristallnacht.
“We failed the Jewish community of the Netherlands during World War II, and last night we failed again,” King Willem-Alexander of the Netherlands said the morning after the attacks.
Days later, protesters set fire to a tram car in Amsterdam while shouting “Free Palestine” and “Kanker Joden,” or “cancer Jews.”
Israel’s growing isolation
Fallout over Gaza in the world of international sports suggests just how perilous Israel’s international standing has become.
Earlier this week, the Court of Arbitration for Sport confirmed that Israel would be barred from competing at the gymnastics world championship in Indonesia this weekend. The court said it had no control over Indonesia’s decision to deny Israeli athletes visas, which was made amid outcry over Israel’s military offensive in Gaza.
At a September cycling race in Spain, the presence of an Israeli team drew thousands of protesters, forcing the race to end 31 miles short of the finish line.
Meanwhile, the International Federation of Muaythai Associations in August banned the display of the Israeli flag and the playing of Israel’s national anthem at all its martial arts competitions.
In the United Kingdom, some argued that banning Maccabi Tel Aviv fans wasn’t enough, calling for the team itself to be barred from competition.
In the leadup to the ban on supporters of the Israeli team, British MP Ayoub Khan and former Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn launched a petition to cancel the game entirely, citing both the “ongoing genocide in Gaza” and the “track record of violence by Maccabi Tel Aviv fans.” The petition, which launched in September prior to the ceasefire, drew nearly 4,000 signatures.
The tensions have also impacted major international tournaments. Last month, the European soccer federation UEFA was reportedly set to vote on banning Israel from international competition over the war in Gaza — a move that would have prevented the country from qualifying for the 2026 World Cup. The vote was paused, however, following the announcement last week of the Gaza ceasefire.
On Friday, local officials called a meeting for an “immediate review” of the decision to ban Maccabi Tel Aviv fans, with sources telling The Athletic they expect the policy to be reversed.
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