Uncategorized
Bosnian Jews mourn Moris Albahari, one of Sarajevo’s last Ladino speakers
(JTA) — Moris Albahari, a Holocaust survivor, former partisan fighter and one of the last Ladino speakers in Bosnia and Herzegovina’s dwindling Jewish community, passed away at the age of 93 last month.
It is believed that he was one of four native Ladino speakers remaining in a country where the Judeo-Spanish language once flourished and was spoken by luminaries like Flory Jagoda, the grande dame of Ladino song, and Laura Bohoretta, the founder of a uniquely Sephardic feminist movement in Bosnia.
Bosnia’s small Jewish community — with barely 900 members throughout the country, 500 of whom live in Sarajevo — are mourning the loss of a living link to communal memory as well as a dear friend.
“From you, uncle Moco, I learned a lot about Judaism, about life, about nature and especially about people. About both the good and the evil,” Igor Kožemjakin, the cantor of the Sarajevo Jewish community, wrote in a memorial post on Facebook, referring to Moris as “Čika,” or uncle, a term of endearment in Bosnian.
“It is a terrible loss, especially for Sarajevo. Our community is very small, especially after the Holocaust,” Eliezer Papo, a Sarajevo-born Jew and scholar of Ladino language and literature at Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency. “We’re not speaking just in terms of prominent members of the community, we’re speaking in terms of family members. Everyone is like a family member.”
When Albahari was growing up in the 1930s, the Jewish community of his native Sarajevo numbered over 12,000. Jews made up more than a fifth of the city and it was one of the most important centers of Jewish life in the western Balkans.
In his youth, the city was part of what was then the Kingdom of Yugoslavia. Formed out of the borderlands between the Ottoman and Austro-Hungarian empires, it was a multiethnic state composed of Croats, Serbs, Bosniaks, Slovenians, Macedonians, Hungarians, Albanians and more. Among them were many Jewish communities both Ashkenazi and Sephardic.
The unique mix of of Muslim, Jewish, Catholic and Orthodox Christian communities, with their mosques, synagogues and churches defining Sarajevo’s skyline, earned the city the nickname “Little Jerusalem.”
Speaking in a 2015 documentary made by American researchers, “Saved by Language,” Albahari explained that his family traced their roots back to Cordoba before the Spanish Inquisition, and through Venice, before settling in what would become Bosnia when it was part of the Ottoman Empire.
“We didn’t want to ‘just’ write an article about Moris or Sarajevo; we wanted [the audience] to see what we saw and hear what we heard,” Brian Kirschen, professor of Ladino at Binghamton University, who worked on the documentary with author Susanna Zaraysky, told JTA. “This resulted in a grassroots initiative to create the documentary.”
In the film, Albahari takes the researchers and their viewers on a tour through what was Jewish Sarajevo, giving glimpses of the thriving Ladino speaking community in which he was raised and explaining how ithe language would save him many times, when the Nazis and their Croat allies, the Ustaša, came to shatter it.
“In sharing your story of survival during the Holocaust, you opened doors that remained closed for decades,” Kirschen said in a memorial post on Facebook. “Some of your stories were even new to members of your family, but each survivor has their own timeline. While you experienced great pain during your life, from your story, we also learn about moments of kindness and heroism. Through your story, you also taught us about the power of language.”
Albahari wasn’t yet a teenager when, in 1941, Nazi Germany and Mussolini’s Italy invaded Yugoslavia. The Nazis occupied the eastern portion of the country, including what is now Serbia, while they raised up a Croat fascist party, known as the Ustaša, to administer the newly formed “Independent State of Croatia” — often known by its Serbo-Croatian initials, NDH — in the western regions that included the modern-day Bosnia and Herzegovina.
The Ustaša collaborated in the Nazis’ genocidal plans for Europe’s Jewish and Roma comunities, and they had genocidal designs of their own for the Orthodox Serb communities living in the NDH.
To that end they established the Jasenovac concentration camp, which would become known as the Auschwitz of the Balkans. By the war’s end it had become the third largest concentration camp in Europe, and behind its walls the overwhelming majority of Sarajevo’s Jews — at least 10,000 — were massacred. Including Serbs, Jews, Roma and political dissidents of Croat or Muslim Bosniak background, as many as 100,000 people were killed in Jasenovac.
Albahari was 11 years old when the Ustaša came to deport him and his large family to Jasenovac. A former teacher working as an Ustaša guard in the town of Drvar, where the train stopped, warned Albahari’s father, David, about their destination, and he was able to help his son escape from the train.
The teacher helped guide the young Moris to an Italian soldier named Lino Marchione who was secretly helping Jews.
This was the first case when Albahari’s Ladino came in handy. Ladino is largely based on medieval Spanish, with a mixture of Hebrew, Aramaic, Turkish and other languages mixed in. For speakers of Serbo-Croatian, a Slavic language, it’s entirely incomprehensible. But for a speaker of another Romance language such as Italian, it’s not such a stretch to understand, and Moris was able to converse with his Italian savior.
With his family gone, he was taken in by a Serb family, and changed his name to Milan Adamovic to hide his Jewish identity. Still, by 1942, it became clear that neither as Adamovic nor Albahari would he be safe in the town. So he fled to the mountains.
“If there was [a battle] I took clothes from a dead soldier to wear, I lived like a wolf in the mountains, you know. Visiting villages [asking for something] to give me for eating, it was a terrible time,” Albahari recalled in “Saved By Language.”
He would only feel safe in villages under the control of partisan forces. Yugoslavia was the only country in Europe to be liberated from Nazi rule by its own grassroots resistance.
During his time in the mountains, Albahari joined up with a partisan unit aligned with the movement of Josip Broz Tito, who would lead Communist Yugoslavia after the war. By the war’s end, Tito’s partisans numbered over 80,000 and included more than 6,000 Jews, many in prominent positions, such as Moša Pijade, who would go on to serve as vice president of the Yugoslav parliament after the war.
Moris was out on patrol as a partisan when he came upon a group of American and British paratroopers. They raised their weapons at him, thinking he was an enemy. Moris tried to communicate, but he spoke no English.
When he asked the soldiers if they spoke German or Italian, they shook their heads. When he asked about Spanish, one perked up: a Hispanic-American soldier by the name of David Garijo.
In Ladino, Alabahari was able to explain that he was not an enemy but could lead them to a nearby partisan camp where they would be safe.
“Ladino saved my life in the war,” Albahari recalled in the documentary.
At the partisan camp, Morris received even bigger news: The family that he had assumed had all perished after he left the train were in fact alive. The former school teacher and Ustaša guard who had warned his father had met them at the next train junction to help them escape. Furthermore, around half of the Jews in the train car were able to escape using the same hole Moris used during his initial escape.
Ultimately the family all survived the war, unlike so many other Jews of Sarajevo.
“Where is Samuel, where is Dudo, where is Gedala? They never came back,” Albahari lamented, listing missing neighbors while walking through Sarajevo’s old Jewish neighborhood in the documentary. “Maybe we are happy because we are alive after the Second World War, but also unlikely because every day we must cry for these dead people.”
When Moris returned to Sarajevo, it was an entirely different place from the bustling Jewish community he had once known.
Gone was the sound of Ladino in the streets and alleyways of Bascarsija, the market district where so many of Sarajevo’s Jews had once lived. Gone were the synagogues — only one of the many synagogues that had existed before WWII still functions. Gone was the robust Jewish life that was once a central part of Sarajevo.
Moris was still only 14 by the war’s end, so he returned to school and ultimately graduated at the top of his class. He became a pilot and later director of the Sarajevo Airport.
In this new world, Ladino was spoken, if at all, only in the home.
“Always, when I hear Spanish, I hear my father and mother, and all the synagogues, prayers in Ladino and rabbis who spoke Ladino. But that is in the past,” Albahari says in “Saved by Language.”
Eliezer Papo, who is a generation younger than Albahari, recalled that in his youth Ladino had long been reduced to a language of secrets.
“Mostly, Ladino was used when the elders didn’t want youngsters to understand,” Papo said.
Only later, in the 1980s, did community members realize what was being lost and begin to gather to maintain their language, recount what Jewish Sarajevo had been like and share their wartime stories of survival.
“He never took his story to the places of revenge, but he took it and his life experience to a place of ‘Never again,’ not just ‘Never again for Jews’, but never again for anybody,” said Papo.
Like many Sarajevans, World War II would not be the last major conflict Albahari would see. Less than 40 years later, war would once again come to Sarajevo with the break-up of Yugoslavia.
From 1992-1995 the city remained under constant siege by Bosnian Serb forces looking to break away from what would become Bosnia and Herzegovina. Moris joined with other Jews of Sarajevo in working to provide aid to their fellow Sarajevans during the harsh period.
Sarajevo’s synagogue was turned into a shelter and a soup kitchen. The community ran a network of underground pharmacies and a message service allowing Sarajevans to get word to family and friends outside of the city during what became the longest siege of a capital city in the history of modern warfare.
“Moris was an inspirational persona to many members of Jewish community and La Benevolencija,” Vlado Anderle, the current president of that local Jewish humanitarian organization told JTA. “He was a man with such inviting spirit and energy.”
When the dust settled on the breakup of Yugoslavia, and the new Bosnian state rose from its ashes, Moris found himself once again in a new role.
During the communist era in Yugoslavia, religious activity was discouraged. Sarajevo’s Jews emphasized the ethnic character of Jewish culture rather than the religious one. In the new Bosnia and Herzegovina, that was no longer true. So the community worked to reconnect with their religious identity as well.
“Everybody looked up to the people who had Jewish upbringing before the Second World War,” Papo recalled. “This doesn’t mean that they were rabbis. Just that they knew it better than anyone else.”
Moris, whose formal Jewish education ended in his preteen years, was appointed president of the community’s religious committee.
As such it often fell on him to represent Judaism to the Bosnian society at large, often in a very creative way, according to Papo, who in addition to being a scholar of Ladino is ordained as a rabbi and serves the Sarajevo community as a rabbi-at-large from Israel.
In one case, while being interviewed on a major Bosnian television station, Moris was asked why Jews cover their head with a kippah or other hat during prayer. Moris’ response, or rather creative interpretation, as Papo called it, was made up on the spot.
Moris’ interpretation began with the ancient temple in Jerusalem where Jews once had to fully immerse in a ritual bath before entering.
“Since the Temple in Jerusalem was destroyed it was reduced to washing the uncovered parts of the body only, before entering a synagogue, similarly to Muslims: the feet, the head, the hands…” Papo recalled him saying. But in Europe, as Moris’ answer went, they began to cover more and more of their body. “In Europe they started wearing shoes, so the feet were not uncovered anymore, and then they started wearing a hat, not to have to wash their head… you know it’s Europe, one could catch a cold if going out with wet hair…”
“A few months later, I came to Sarajevo, and found that everyone has heard this explanation and is talking about it, not just people in the community, but in the street,” Papo said. “And you know, I let it pass, I couldn’t correct them, it was just so beautiful. That was his genius.”
“Identity is all about telling stories. And Moris was one of the great storytellers of the community,” Papo added. And through his stories he expressed an identity which was “made of the same contradictions that Sephardic Judaism is made of, that Sarajevo is made of, that Bosnia and Herzegovina is made and that Yugoslavia was and is made of and that the Balkans are made of.”
Albahari is survived by his wife and a son.
—
The post Bosnian Jews mourn Moris Albahari, one of Sarajevo’s last Ladino speakers appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Uncategorized
JD Vance blames Israel and Iran war for GOP’s crushing defeats
(JTA) — Vice President JD Vance blamed the Republican Party’s massive midterm losses on the country’s connection to Israel and the war in Iran in a social media post early on Wednesday.
“The real reason we lost is obvious to almost everyone,” Vance wrote on X, as results from Tuesday’s midterm elections showed that Democrats had wrested control of Congress from his Republican Party.
The vice president then listed four strategies to persuade those voters who abandoned the GOP “to come back to our team”: end the war in Iran; focus on the cost of living and inflation; put America first and “Change our relationship to Israel.”
“The reason we lost is the war. The president himself said so last night,” Vance added, referring to interviews President Donald Trump gave on Tuesday about the influence of the war on gas prices.
Addressing the defeats, Trump told Fox News that “a part of it was Iran,” while also doubling down on the importance of the war itself. Similarly, he told The Wall Street Journal that “Iran was a piece of it.”
The president’s son, Donald Trump, Jr., backed Vance’s statement with a re-post on Wednesday, simply adding: “Every word of this is 100 100 100.”
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post JD Vance blames Israel and Iran war for GOP’s crushing defeats appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
People used to have guests over often. Why do so few of us do that anymore?
אין אַן אַרטיקל לעצטנס אינעם זשורנאַל „די אַטלאַנטיק“ האָט מען איבערגעגעבן, אַז אינעם יאָר 1975 האָבן בערך 42 פּראָצענט אַמעריקאַנער געזאָגט, אַז צום ווייניקסטן איין מאָל אַ חודש נעמען זיי אויף געסט (פֿרײַנד אָדער קרובֿים) אויף אַ מאָלצײַט בײַ זיך אין שטוב.
אין 2026 איז עס אָבער געווען בלויז 12 פּראָצענט — אַ ירידה פֿון בערך 70 פּראָצענט.
די פֿאָרשער האָבן דעם פֿענאָמען אַ נאָמען געגעבן „די גרויסע ירידה פֿון הכנסת־אורחים“ (The Great Disinvitation בלע״ז). דער נאָמען פּאַסט טאַקע ווײַל אָט די ירידה פֿון אויפֿנעמען געסט איז נישט בלויז וואָך שייך דעם פֿאַרבעטן מענטשן אויף אַ מאָלצײַט. אַ סך געזעלשאַפֿטלעכע אַקטיוויטעטן וואָס זענען אַ מאָל געווען אַזוי פֿאַרשפּרייט זענען אַ פּנים „אַרויס פֿון דער מאָדע, צי דאָס איז אַרויסגיין עסן מיט פֿרײַנד, שפּילן קאָרטן, גיין אויף אַ פּיקניק, הערן אַ קלאַס, טאָן פֿרײַוויליקע אַרבעט, גיין אין שענק אָדער אויף אַ זיצונג פֿון אַ קלוב. מיט אַנדערע ווערטער, אַזוי ווייניק מענטשן באַטייליקן זיך אין די אַקטיוויטעטן, אַז מע באַטראַכט זיי ווי סתּם חנעוודיקע מנהגים פֿון אַ פֿאַרגאַנגענער תּקופֿה, נישט מער ווי אַ קוריאָז.
פֿאַר וואָס איז דאָס געשען? ערשטנס, איז דאָס לעבן אין דער היים געוואָרן זייער באַקוועם, אַזוי אַז ס׳גלוסט זיך נישט אַרויסצוגיין. צווייטנס, ניצט מען אויס יענע שעהען וואָס מע פֿלעג אויפֿנעמען געסט צו אַרבעטן מער. דריטנס, ווען מע זעט כּסדר אויף דער סאָציאַלער מעדיאַ (בפֿרט אינסטאַגראַם) פֿאָטאָגראַפֿיעס פֿון פּרעכטיקע עסצימערן, וווּ אַלץ אויפֿן טיש זעט אויס פּערפֿעקט, און דער סאַלאָן איז שיין אויסגעסדרט און קרישטאָל־ריין, פֿילן זיך מענטשן אַז זיי קענען נישט דערגרייכן אַזאַ הויכן סטאַנדאַרט און באַשליסן דערפֿאַר נישט צו פֿאַרבעטן מענטשן צו זיך.
די סדרה פֿון דער פֿאַרגאַנגענער וואָך, וירא, ווײַזט אונדז אַ בולטן קאָנטראַסט. אַבֿהרם אָבֿינו, וואָס איז אַלט 99 יאָר אַלט און האָט ערשט געהאַט דורכגעמאַכט אַ שטיקל „כירורגיע“ (זײַן ברית־מילה), זיצט בײַם אַרײַנגאַנג פֿון זײַן געצעלט אין דער הייסטער צײַט פֿון טאָג, ווען דרײַ פֿרעמדע באַווײַזן זיך פֿון דער ווײַטנס.
הגם אַבֿרהם האָט אַ גוטן תּירוץ צו בלײַבן בײַם געצעלט, הייבט ער זיך אויף, לויפֿט צו צו די דרײַ פֿרעמדע לײַט און הייבט אָן צוגרייטן אַ סעודה פֿאַר זיי. ער הייסט שׁרהן תּיכּף אָפּבאַקן ברויט און באַפֿעלט זײַן דינער אויסקלײַבן דאָס בעסטע קעלבל פֿון זייער טשאַדע כּדי צו מאַכן אַ געשמאַק הויפּטגעריכט.
מיט אַנדערע ווערטער, אַבֿרהם אָרגאַניזירט אַ סעודה וואָס קיינער האָט נישט פּלאַנירט, לטובֿת מענטשן וואָס ער קען בכלל נישט. ס׳איז זייער מעגלעך אַז דאָס געצעלט איז בײַ אים געווען אָנגעוואָרפֿן מיט זאַכן אָבער דאָס האָט אים נישט געאַרט. דערצו האָבן די געסט געדאַרפֿט וואַרטן עטלעכע שעה אויף דער מאָלצײַט (דער פּראָצעס פֿון באַקן ברויט קאָן דויערן 5 שעה), און דאָס עסן איז אפֿשר נישט געווען אויסערגעוויינטלעך. מיר דאַכט זיך אָבער, אַז דאָס איז דער עיקר פֿון דער מעשׂה.
דאָס אויפֿנעמען געסט איז אָפֿט נישט באַקוועם און פֿאָדערט אַ סך מי.
אין יענע צײַטן איז דאָס געווען אַן אמתע האָרעוואַניע. מע האָט געדאַרפֿט שעכטן די חיות, שעפּן וואַסער פֿון ברונעם, צעמאָלן דאָס מעל און באַקן אַלץ פֿריש. הײַנט איז דאָס אויפֿנעמען געסט גרינגער צוליב אַלע טעכנאָלאָגישע דערגרייכונגען אָבער מע דאַרף פֿאָרט אַרײַנלייגן אַ היפּשע אַרבעט: מע דאַרף קאָכן, קאָאָרדינירן אונדזערע קאַלענדאַרן, גיין אײַנקויפֿן, ראַמען, קאָנטראָלירן צי איינער פֿון די געסט האָט אַן אַלערגיע, און מע דאַרף נעמען אין באַטראַכט די באַדערפֿענישן פֿון קליינע קינדער.
סײַ אין אַבֿרהמס צײַטן סײַ אין אונדזערע, ווערן אָט די גשמיותדיקע צוגרייטונגען לטובֿת הכנסת־אורחים פֿאַרוואַנדלט אין מעשׂים פֿון אמתן חסד.
די תּורה זאָגט אונדז, אַז גאָט האָט געהאַלטן אין מיטן רעדן מיט אַבֿרהמען ווען די געסט זענען אָנגעקומען און ווי עס זעט אויס האָט אַבֿרהם ממש איבערגעריסן זײַן שמועס מיטן אייבערשטן, כּדי צו באַדינען די געסט — אַ זאַך וואָס האָט דערפֿירט צום איבערראַשנדיקן אויספֿיר בײַ חז״ל: אַז הכנסת־אורחים איז נאָך חשובֿער ווי דאָס זײַן אין דער שכינה אַליין.
אַ מדרש גיט צו אַן אינטערעסאַנטע אָבסערוואַציע: ווען עס דערנענטערן זיך די דרײַ פֿרעמדע (וואָס זענען אין דער אמתן דרײַ מאכלים), שטייט געשריבן אַז זיי „שטייען איבער“ אַבֿרהמען, אָבער בײַם סוף פֿונעם מאָלצײַט, „שטייט ער איבער זיי“. דאָס הייסט, בײַם אָנהייב האָבן די דרײַ געסט זיך געפֿילט גײַסטיק העכער פֿון אַבֿרהמען, אָבער ביזן סוף פֿון זייער באַזוך האָבן זיי אײַנגעזען אַז אָט דער קראַנקער זקן מיט דער אָפֿענער טיר, וואָס זײַן הויזגעזינד מאַכט פֿריש ברויט לכּבֿוד זײַנע געסט, האָט דערגרייכט אַ נאָך העכערע מדרגה ווי זיי.
מיר לייענען ווי די דרײַ מאכלים פֿאַרלאָזן אַבֿרהמס געצעלט און קומען אָן אין סדום, וווּ זיי טרעפֿן אַ גאָר אַנדער מין געזעלשאַפֿט: אַנשטאָט חסד און גאַסטפֿרײַנטלעכקייט ווײַזן די אײַנוווינער פֿון סדום אַרויס רציחה און אַכזריותדיקייט צו פֿרעמדע. אין סדום איז די שׂינאה פֿאַר פֿרעמדע לײַט געווען ממש אײַנגעגלידערט אין זייער סאָציאַלער סיסטעם.
ווען לוט, וואָס האָט זיך באַזעצט אין סדום, נעמט אויף צוויי פֿון די דרײַ געסט וואָס זענען פֿריִער געווען בײַ אַבֿרהמען, זאַמלט זיך אָן בײַ זײַן טיר אַ המון אָרטיקע אײַנוווינער, פֿאָדערנדיק אַז ער זאָל דערלאַנגען די געסט צו זיי. וויסנדיק אַז די סדומער וועלן די געסט ברוטאַל אַטאַקירן, זאָגט ער זיך אָפּ פֿון אַרויסלאָזן די געסט. כאָטש ער טוט דערנאָך עפּעס, וואָס איז פּונקט אַזוי שאָקירנדיק און אַכזריותדיק (ער שיקט אַרויס זײַנע אייגענע טעכטער אַנשטאָט די געסט), איז קלאָר אַז ער האָט געפּרווט פֿאָלגן די פּרינציפּן פֿון הכנסת־אורחים, וואָס ער האָט זיך אָפּגעלערנט פֿון זײַן פֿעטער אַבֿרהם.
מע קען אַוודאי נישט פֿאַרגלײַכן דעם אוממענטשלעכן אויפֿפֿיר פֿון די סדומער מיט אונדזער געזעלשאַפֿט. די ירידה פֿון הכנסת־אורחים איז אָבער אַ סימן אַז מיר שאַנעווען נישט די טראַדיציע פֿון אויפֿנעמען געסט אַזוי ווי אַמאָל. מיר פֿילן זיך באַקוועמער צו בלײַבן פֿיזיש אָפּגעזינדערט פֿון אַנדערע. דורך אַבֿרהמס גאַסטפֿרײַנדלעכקייט ווײַזט אונדז די תּורה וואָסערע נסים קענען פֿאָרקומען ווען מע פֿאַרבעט געסט צו זיך אַהיים: אַן אַלטיטשקע פּאָרפֿאָלק וואָס האָט שוין אויפֿגעגעבן די האָפֿענונג אַז זיי וועלן האָבן קינדער, דערוויסט זיך אַז זיי וועלן טאַקע האָבן אַ זון.
ווען מיר פֿאַרבעטן מענטשן אַהיים אויף אַ מאָלצײַט קענען אויך פֿאָרקומען אַנדערע וויכטיקע זאַכן: אַ גאַסט וואָס האָט נישט קיין שטעלע קען געפֿינען אַרבעט. צוויי געסט קענען זיך פֿאַרליבן און דערנאָך חתונה האָבן.
די תּורה לערנט אונדז אַז מיר זאָלן עפֿענען אונדזערע היימען, אַפֿילו אויב ס׳איז אונדז שווער. און נאָך מער: מיר זאָלן עס טאָן דווקא ווי אַ דוגמא פֿון אַ מיצווה, וואָס איז שווער דורכצופֿירן אָבער ברענגט צונויף מענטשן. און מיר אַלע קענען דאָס טאָן. זאָרגט זיך נישט אויב אײַער היים איז נישט אַזוי שיין ווי די בילדער, וואָס איר זעט אויף אינסטאַגראַם. ווען מיר ווערן פֿאַרבעטן צו יענעם אַהיים געדענקען ס׳רובֿ פֿון אונדז נישט צי די סערוועטקעס האָבן זיך טאַקע געפּאַסט מיטן טישטעך. מיר געדענקען אָבער יאָ ווי אַזוי מיר האָבן זיך געפֿילט ווי געסט, וויסנדיק אַז עמעצער וויל פֿאַרברענגען מיט אונדז.
בײַ די פֿראַנצויזן איז דאָ אַן אַלטער מינהג: ווען מע שטאַרבט, באַערדיקט מען דעם מת אין אַן אָרון געמאַכט פֿונעם האָלץ פֿון זײַן עסטיש. דער סימבאָליזם דערפֿון איז קלאָר: נאָך דעם ווי מיר פֿאַרלאָזן די וועלט, טראַכטן ווייניק מענטשן וויפֿל געלט מיר האָבן געהאַט אָדער ווי באַרימט מיר זענען געווען. אַ סך מער געדענקט מען ווי אַזוי מיר האָבן אויפֿגענומען געסט: די איבעריקע בענקלעך, וואָס מיר האָבן אַרויסגעשלעפּט פֿון דער שאַפֿע; די טישטעכער וואָס מיר האָבן אָפּגעוואַשן, און ואַחרון אַחרון חבֿיבֿ — אונדזער שמייכל בײַם עפֿענען די טיר.
דער אַרטיקל איז איבערגעזעצט געוואָרן פֿון ענגליש.
The post People used to have guests over often. Why do so few of us do that anymore? appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
6 Jewish takeaways from the midterm elections
(JTA) — The sheer size and geographic scope of the Republican wipeout Tuesday makes it hard to read anything definitive into the results beyond a nationwide repudiation of President Donald Trump (and his candidate selections). But whether or not any other factors were at play in the GOP bloodbath, the fallout will have a range of reverberations. Here are 6 takeaways that point to what comes next.
1. A significantly weakened Donald Trump doesn’t bode well for Netanyahu
For Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, Trump has been a longshot bet that keeps on paying off. It’s hard to overstate how significant Trump’s improbable wins in 2016 and 2024 were in bolstering Netanyahu’s domestic standing and giving him space to advance his regional agenda. Trump also served as a security blanket, leaving Netanyahu and his allies with a sense for many years that they need not worry too much about skyrocketing Democratic and international anger with Israel.
In fact, there was even a hope in Bibi world that The Donald’s support could save Netanyahu from political defeat at home (and, to be fair, his 11th-hour endorsement may have). Whether Netanyahu holds on or chief rival Gadi Eisenkot succeeds in replacing him, Israel is entering uncharted territory. There is little chance that the combination of a weakened Trump and an emboldened Democratic Congress produces similar levels of support for aggressive action against Iran and its proxies, and other policies that a wide spectrum of Israelis see as crucial to their security.
2. Jeffries and Schumer have a massive headache coming their way
With Tuesday night’s Democratic wave, Hakeem Jeffries is on track to become Speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives and Chuck Schumer will likely get a second shot as U.S. Senate Majority Leader. These New Yorkers have longstanding ties to the pro-Israel community and are among their party’s strongest Israel supporters – putting them at odds with the growing number of congressional Democrats who want their party to take a much harder line against Israel. It won’t be long before members in each caucus are demanding concrete action, including meaningful limits on U.S. military sales.
Both Democratic leaders have ratcheted up their criticism of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and his government in the wake of its war on Hamas in Gaza, but they have ultimately voted against various legislative attempts to punish Israel. This past April, Schumer was one of only seven Senate Democrats to vote against a pair of resolutions that together would have blocked the sale of D-9 bulldozers, widely used in military operations, and 1,000-pound bombs to Israel. In July, Jeffries voted against ending U.S. military aid to Israel, but the measure was supported by almost half of the Democratic caucus. As leaders of their respective chambers, Jeffries and Schumer will likely face immense pressure for more such votes and face much tougher scrutiny from the party base over continued support for Israel.
3. The impact of the anti-Israel vote was diluted
On the other hand, the massive Democratic victory dilutes the power of the anti-Israel lawmakers in Congress. Their numbers will grow, causing problems for party leaders trying to keep anti-Israel measures off the agenda. But they will remain a relatively small subset within a much larger Democratic majority that includes many moderates and Israel supporters.
Not only will anti-Israel members have less ability to hold Congress hostage, the overall issue of Israel loses some of its potency when the broader political winds indicate that all Democrats were boosted.
4. John Fetterman just lost his juice
Just as the sizable Democratic House majority makes Jeffries less dependent on anti-Israel lawmakers in his caucus, the next Senate Majority Leader won’t need to rely on Pennsylvania Sen. John Fetterman. For years, Fetterman has been driving fellow Democrats crazy with his cozying up to Republicans, with progressives especially upset over his die-hard support for Israel. Fetterman has even said that the one thing that could cause him to leave the Democratic Senate caucus would be his party turning decisively against Israel.
Had things broken differently, with Democrats grabbing a narrow 51-49 majority in the chamber, Fetterman’s influence would have been hypercharged. Now, not so much. The Democrats no longer need him to keep control of the chamber. So Schumer, should he regain the majority leader role, will have to worry much less about keeping the party’s top pro-Israel cheerleader happy. In 2028, he’ll be up for reelection and highly unlikely to survive the Democratic primary.
5. AIPAC has not found a formula for success
A few years back, the leading pro-Israel lobby decided the best way to counter the initial anti-Israel rumblings in Congress was to jump deep into the campaign fundraising business. Hundreds of millions of dollars later, the number of Israel critics in Congress – especially on the Democratic side of the aisle – has grown, with a fresh batch on the way. Moreover, in many races, anti-Israel candidates and AIPAC critics managed to turn the lobby’s backing into a liability.
Meanwhile, Trump’s seemingly impromptu announcement Tuesday that his administration would end aid to Israel after this year suggests that Republican backing for such support is dropping alongside Democrats’. And Tuesday’s results suggest AIPAC’s strong support for the U.S. and Israeli military strikes against Iran is out of step with the American public and many incoming lawmakers.
All of this indicates that AIPAC has yet to figure out how to manage the anti-Israel turn sweeping through American politics.
6. It was a great night for Jewish presidential hopefuls
U.S. Sen. Jon Ossoff says he isn’t running for president in 2028. But that won’t stop the speculation from skyrocketing after his impressive reelection in Georgia – Georgia?! – with nearly 60% of the vote. More importantly, he probably just grabbed frontrunner status in the race to become America’s first Jewish president. Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro also registered a similarly sized reelection victory in a state that Trump won just two years ago, but Ossoff – a fierce Trump antagonist and, increasingly, a critic of Israel’s military actions – cemented his rock star status among Democrats this cycle and has demonstrated an ability to bridge the gap between younger progressives and more traditional liberals.
Illinois Gov. JB Pritzker also cruised to reelection. Meanwhile in Michigan, moderate Elissa Slotkin – another senator and likely presidential hopeful (of course, which senator isn’t a presidential hopeful?) – may have at least propped open the door to some progressive support by campaigning hard for Abdul El-Sayed. All four have been highly critical of Netanyahu, with both Ossoff and Slotkin joining most of their fellow Democratic senators in voting in April for a curb on various weapons sales. Both senators have declined to label Israel’s actions in Gaza as genocide.
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post 6 Jewish takeaways from the midterm elections appeared first on The Forward.
