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Chabad women come together once a year in person. The rest of the time, there’s Instagram.
(JTA) — The first post on Rivky Hertzel’s Instagram account — which she and her husband signed up for last year ahead of a planned move to Zambia — depicts a classic Chabad activity: a mock matzah bake for children that the couple organized in Lusaka, the country’s capital, ahead of last Passover.
But like many Instagram posts, the cheerful photo didn’t exactly tell the whole story:
The kids’ chef hats were made out of paper, their aprons were made out of garbage bags, and their rolling pins were actually the detached handles of toilet plungers — wrapped in Saran Wrap — that Hertzel picked up on the fly at a local store when she realized she was short on baking supplies.
Only after the bake was done did Hertzel, 22, reveal the origins of the “rolling pins.” Much to her relief, the kids’ parents had a good laugh about it.
And months later, in a “Throwback Thursday” post, Hertzel shared a photo of the deconstructed toilet plungers themselves. The red ends of the plungers sat in rows next to the separated handles.
“What do you think we used the plungers for?” she wrote. One viewer responded, “Moshe’s staff.” Another wrote, “As a plunger:).” She then revealed that they were rolling pins, to her followers’ delight.
“I have friends in Alaska and in New York and anywhere else, and I think they were excited and kind of inspired by that,” Hertzel told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency. “When you’re living in New York, what are you thinking about Jewish kids in Africa? No one’s thinking about it. They were inspired by the lengths that we were willing to go to make a special Jewish experience for kids.”
Hertzel’s experience is an example of the increasingly significant and versatile role Instagram is playing in the lives of Chabad’s women emissaries, known as shluchos. Nearly 4,000 shluchos gathered this past weekend for a conference that concluded with a massive gala dinner at a New Jersey convention center. But during the rest of the year, many of the emissaries live without a robust local Orthodox support system, often taking the lead in organizing Jewish activities in far-flung locales with few, if any, other observant Jews.
To fill that gap, some have turned to Instagram as a vehicle to document both their work and personal lives. And as a younger generation of emissaries begins taking up posts around the world, the way they portray their Jewish outreach cuts across Instagram’s many vibes. Some stick to curating a beautiful photo grid, while others use the platform to broadcast the messier parts of raising a family while running a Jewish community. Some keep their accounts private, viewing social media primarily as a way to reach friends and relatives across the globe.
“There’s so many wonderful, beautiful things that social media can be used for,” said Chavie Bruk, the Chabad emissary in Bozeman, Montana. “The more we can talk about the day-to-day struggles and the day-to-day life and the not-glorified part about being a shlucha, I feel like it just creates community and comfort and support.”
Bruk, 38, has been on Instagram for about 10 years, and started using it regularly about three years ago. Her Instagram is a combination of colorful family photos on the permanent grid, and front-camera facing 24-hour stories where she “doesn’t sugarcoat things” about her life as parent to five adopted children, one of whom is Black and another has a seizure disorder, living in a mostly rural state with only 5,000 Jews.
On Wednesday, she posted a story about a blockage in the septic tank of her house, which is not connected to the city sewer system.
“This has been two days of trying to figure out where is the blockage and they cannot figure it out,” Bruk says in the video. “And we’ve tried everything. Which means we haven’t really been able to use a lot of water in the house. So now it means that we have to get a backhoe. We’re very lucky that our neighbor has one. So Montana!”
Until the blockage is found, Bruk says in the video, her family has to limit their consumption of water.
“I show up how I am,” Bruk told JTA. “Just because you’re doing something really awesome and just because you even love what you’re doing, doesn’t mean it’s not going to be hard.”
She added, “My parents’ generation, there wasn’t room for that. There wasn’t room for expressing hardship. I think [in] that generation, the shluchos were looked at as superhuman. They just were able to pull it all off without their hair being ruffled… We need to embrace that and really be like, ‘You know what? No. We’re shluchos, we do amazing things. We do things that are superhuman, but we’re not superhuman.’”
Other emissaries use Instagram as a way to broadcast a fashionable version of themselves in an effort to connect with young Jews. Emunah Wircberg, 31, a shlucha and director of a Philadelphia art gallery called Old City Jewish Arts Center, is also a fashion blogger. Wircberg and her husband Zalman primarily serve Jews in their 20s and 30s, and they usually meet at the gallery for art-themed social events, networking opportunities and chic Shabbat dinners.
Wirchberg’s Instagram is largely beige, black and white, showing off her modest style of silky skirts layered with chunky knits, oversized blazers and coats, and a variety of wide brim hats, all with a loose silhouette. Some of the photos are shot in Philadelphia and others are taken in Israel, posing in front of the iconic Jerusalem stone.
Wircberg also posts stylized pictures of her family life and Jewish ritual, such as shots of her family’s Purim costumes, Hanukkah and pre-Shabbat candle lighting. Some of them are inflected with Chabad teachings, including references to Chaya Mushka Schneerson, the wife of Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, the late Chabad leader known as the Rebbe.
Emunah Wircberg is a Chabad emissary and a modest fashion blogger. (Screenshots via Instagram)
With 20,000 followers, Wircberg’s friends have asked her why she doesn’t try to monetize the page, though she does include links to donate to local Jewish institutions. “I view my Instagram as part of my shluchos, so I don’t want it to be a place where I’m trying to make money,” she said.
Wircberg also posts videos of her Shabbat cooking — recounting one time when she accidentally used an unkosher mustard for a chicken that she had to throw out — and shares artist-centered events and other activities.
Wirchberg said she appreciates “every opportunity that you have to show your life as a shlucha, Chabad Hasidic woman.” She added, “Showing that to the world and showing that to your followers and connecting with them in that way is actually a really cool, great channel to be able to do that.”
Other shluchos shy away from using Instagram as a public platform. For Esther Hecht, the 26-year-old emissary in Auckland, New Zealand, making phone calls to her friends and family in England and the United States often feels like an impossible task — a distaste that, polling shows, she shares with other members of her generation.
Instead, she finds the asynchronous nature of social media to be a helpful alternative when it comes to catching up with people.
At the conference, in between speaking at the podium in front of the nearly 4,000 guests, she found herself handing out her phone to exchange social media handles. Asked why she focuses on the platforms, she said, “It keeps me connected.”
Esther Hecht, the shlucha for Auckland, New Zealand, speaks at the annual conference for Chabad women emissaries. (Courtesy of Chabad)
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UNRWA in Gaza Has Been Replaced; It’s Time to Shutter the Agency
Palestinians pass by the gate of an UNRWA-run school in Nablus in the West Bank. Photo: Reuters/Abed Omar Qusini.
The UN Relief and Works Agency — or UNRWA — in Gaza has been replaced by over a dozen other aid organizations. UNRWA’s decades-long monopoly on aid and services has finally been broken, presenting a rare opportunity for deradicalization and, eventually, peace.
What’s more, the international community now has a model for how to replace UNRWA everywhere it operates, not just in Gaza.
The UN Security Council approved President Donald Trump’s proposal to build a “Board of Peace” on November 17 that will oversee the deradicalization of Gaza and the dismantlement of Hamas’ terror state. But Trump’s vision will not succeed until UNRWA is shuttered.
UNRWA was created with a temporary mandate after Israel’s 1947-1948 War of Independence to provide aid and services to approximately 750,000 Palestinian Arabs displaced by the war.
Over the past 75 years, UNRWA’s mandate has ballooned. Not only does UNRWA continue to provide a myriad of services in the jurisdictions where Arab refugees from 1948 immigrated, but refugee status has been passed from generation to generation. As a result, what was a relatively small refugee population in 1948 (compared to other 20th century refugee populations) is today a large and growing 21st century refugee population with no end in sight. UNRWA counts 5.9 million Palestinian refugees and has an annual budget of over a billion and half dollars.
UNRWA schools teach the belief that Palestinian refugees and their millions of descendants would all return to the modern state of Israel — an outcome that would immediately erase Israel’s Jewish majority.
The focus on “return,” coupled with the well-documented glorification of terror and incitement — including arithmetic problems involving numbers of Palestinian “martyrs,” antisemitic tropes, and naming schools and soccer fields after suicide bombers — has produced generations of indoctrinated and radicalized Palestinian children.
UNRWA staff participated in the horrors of October 7, praised the violence on social media, and Israeli hostages were held captive in UNRWA facilities for months during the war.
Once Israel exposed the extent of UNRWA’s involvement in terror, Israel’s Knesset passed legislation in October 2024 to end coordination with UNRWA and to rescind the special privileges and immunities that Israel granted the organization. Israel’s actions made it difficult for UNRWA — which had used the Jewish State as its base of operations for decades — to continue delivering its services.
UNRWA advocates warned that Israel’s new law would have catastrophic consequences. It didn’t.
Israel’s justified decision to cease cooperating with UNRWA demonstrated quickly that other organizations and state actors — without the proclivity towards terror — were willing and able to step in.
UNRWA candidly describes itself as a quasi-state actor. This is true. For decades, UNRWA in Gaza provided services — like trash collection, education, and health clinics — that should be the responsibility of the state. In Gaza, this meant that Hamas outsourced its governmental obligations to UNRWA — with the international community picking up the bill — financially freeing Hamas terrorists to hoard weapons and build a terror fortress underneath Gaza.
Before October 7, UNRWA was the second biggest employer in Gaza and provided basic services like sanitation, health, and education to over a million people. After Hamas launched the war, UNRWA — swiftly announcing that it was not the terror organization’s responsibility to care for distressed Gazan civilians — went into high gear, taking over additional aid distribution functions.
In January 2025, when Trump negotiated the first ceasefire between Israel and Gaza, the UN established a new initiative with a dedicated online tracker to monitor aid entering Gaza. The tracker reports that UNRWA has not brought any aid into Gaza since January.
According to an Israeli official familiar with aid delivery in Gaza, the basic services performed by UNRWA before and during the first year of the war are now performed by other actors in the enclave. The United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) is managing most of the waste management in the enclave. Fuel distribution is managed by the United Nations Office for Project Services (UNOPS). The World Central Kitchen has been effective at delivering food alongside the World Food Program (WFP), which is also handling the broader logistics function for aid delivery in Gaza — a function WFP performs worldwide. UNICEF has taken a larger role in children-related humanitarian responses, and the World Health Organization (WHO) is providing medical aid to field clinics and hospitals.
This is how the rest of the world manages humanitarian crises caused by wars and natural disasters, and the correct way to manage the crisis in Gaza: with organizations that have a temporary mandate to deliver aid. Once the crisis has passed, those services should once again be the responsibility of the state.
Funding UNRWA — a self-described quasi-state — for over three quarters of a century to run services that should be the responsibility of a state government has been a calamity for Gaza and the region.
US taxpayers have historically been UNRWA’s largest donor, and have contributed over seven billion dollars to the UN agency since its creation. Congress has voiced consistent but limited support for ending UNRWA funding, and both Presidents Trump and Biden previously cut taxpayer dollars to the UN agency.
UNRWA supporters — including UNRWA’s US organization that lobbies Washington for support and funding — railed against attempts to cut funding, arguing that “UNRWA is irreplaceable,” a slogan often employed by UNRWA staff and advocates.
The reality is that UNRWA in Gaza has already been replaced.
Sadly, UNRWA’s multi-generation radicalization campaign in Gaza is not unique. The same brainwashing is happening wherever UNRWA operates, breeding terrorists and terror sympathizers across the region.
The UN and the international community can use the Gaza model to replace UNRWA’s corrosive monopoly on aid to Palestinians across the region.
The Trump administration now has an opportunity to wield its influence with other major UNRWA donors — namely the EU, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Turkey, Canada, and Japan — to redirect their UNRWA funding to relief organizations that can deliver the much-needed aid and services without the radicalizing agenda. This critical reform should be implemented if the world truly wants to bring about peace.
Enia Krivine is the senior director of the Israel Program and the National Security Network at the Foundation for Defense of Democracies. Follow her on X @EKrivine.
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In New York City, Jews Are Accused of Breaking ‘International Law’ for Supporting Israel’s Existence
New York City mayor-elect Zohran Mamdani holds a press conference at the Unisphere in the Queens borough of New York City, US, Nov. 5, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Kylie Cooper
Last month, New York City’s Park East synagogue hosted a talk on matters of American Jewish interest, including immigration to Israel.
Outside, a crowd of protesters raged against the event’s Jewish participants, including cries of “we need to make them scared,” “f—king Jewish pricks,” and “globalize the intifada” (a phrase the United States Congress officially recognizes as a call for violence against the Jewish people).
Mayor-elect Zohran Mamdani’s response has been described by some Jewish leaders as “ambivalent” or “hollow.”
It was not ambivalent, and it was not hollow.
Mamdani’s statement was outright terrifying:
The Mayor-elect has discouraged the language used at last night’s protest and will continue to do so … he believes every New Yorker should be free to enter a house of worship without intimidation, and that these sacred spaces should not be used to promote activities in violation of international law.”
(Spokesperson for Mayor-elect Mamdani, November 20, 2025. Emphasis added)
International law?
A lecture at a synagogue violated international law?
To be clear, in addition to being absolutely protected by America’s First Amendment, a talk about Jewish immigration at a synagogue does not even remotely violate any international law, convention, or treaty.
It is well known that the Mayor-elect promised to arrest Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu should he ever visit New York City, supposedly for reasons of “international law.” Ironically, doing so would actually violate both US Federal law as well as several of the very international laws Mamdani claims to uphold — a legal topic I’ve previously discussed in depth.
Yet in this case, the soon-to-be mayor of New York City was not accusing a foreign leader of war crimes: he was accusing Jews.
Not Israeli leaders — Jews. American Jews. New York Jews.
For attending a talk at a synagogue.
Let that sink in for a minute.
While you do, let’s recall Amsterdam, November 2024: the local Muslim population carried out an actual, modern day pogrom against visiting Israeli soccer fans, literally hunting them through the city streets. For hours, the Dutch police were nowhere to be found.
It’s important to note that Amsterdam’s city government speaks about Israel, and treats its local Jews, in a manner starkly similar to Mamdani.
Just one example: Amsterdam police have the right to refuse assignments on moral grounds. One of the assignments police frequently refuse is protecting Jewish sites, including Holland’s National Holocaust Museum. On “moral grounds.” And with the legal support of the government.
The New York City police will soon be under the command of a mayor who accuses American Jews of war crimes. In a city where violent antisemitic attacks have already reached shocking levels, the police are about to become unreliable at best, and perhaps even hostile.
Matters under the mayor’s direct authority, such as police protection, are only the beginning. Dozens of city agencies could be next.
For example, Mamdani has promised to cut New York City’s relationship with Israel’s Technion University via Cornell University. The mayor does not directly control this decision, but he does have the power to appoint members of the board of management of the Roosevelt Island Operating Corporation, which can then force Cornell into decisions against the partnership.
In the coming years, New York City will see dozens of other political appointments, some visible and others subtle, and they will impact every aspect of the City’s culture, education, and safety, for years to come.
So what can we do about it?
To answer that question, one must first understand the scope of the problem.
At a 2001 conference in Durban, South Africa, the Palestinian Authority and its various allies (including Qatar and Iran) launched what later became known as the “Diplomatic Intifada.” Their target was the generation just being born: today’s 18-24 year old cohort. Their timeframe was decades, and their budget was essentially unlimited.
I saw this tsunami of antisemitism fast approaching during the Gaza war in 2009, and I moved to Israel shortly after. But Aliyah is not a viable or attractive option for everyone. I have dedicated my career to doing everything I can to make a meaningful change on an appropriately large scale.
For your part, you can do these things: Be utterly committed to truth at any cost and speak without compromise.
Some Jewish leaders irresponsibly called Mamdani’s statement “ambivalent” or “hollow” instead of what it was: terrifying and malicious. If uncompromising honesty endangers your job, get a new one. If it endangers your place in your community, find a new community. And if it endangers your safety — move. Yes, this takes courage, maybe even sacrifice. Yes, this is blunt, hard, and perhaps even costly advice. Yet the cost of silence will ultimately be far greater. (Remember 1938?)
Raise your children (or your future children) to understand and appreciate the importance of Israel, of Judaism, and of basic respect for truth itself. Teach them to be strong, unafraid, and true to their values. Learning starts at home, values start at home, and it all starts early.
Daniel Pomerantz is the CEO of RealityCheck, an organization dedicated to deepening public conversation through robust research studies and public speaking.
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At My School and Others, Students for Justice in Palestine Continues to Erase History
Rutgers University students holding an anti-Zionist demonstration on March 19, 2024. Photo: USA Today Network via Reuters Connect
On the two-year anniversary of the Oct. 7 attacks, the University of Florida’s chapter of Students for Justice in Palestine (SJP) hosted a vigil directly in front of our school’s library to “honor the martyrs,” where they continued to promote the genocide libel.
I asked them, “Why do this on the anniversary of the 10/7 massacre?” Almost mindlessly, as if they were still taking cues from a toolkit, they dodged the question and centered their preferred victims with: “Do you know how many Palestinians were killed on October 7th?”
There was no mention of the Nova festival or the kibbutzim. No condolences for the 1,200 innocent people murdered or the 251 taken hostage. No acknowledgment that this attack, perpetrated by Palestinian terrorists, was and still is widely supported in Palestinian society. SJP students were more interested in legitimizing their heroes by comparing Hamas to the Black Panther Party.
The US Civil Rights movement achieved its goals through nonviolent protests like sit-ins and boycotts, not stabbing attacks, blowing up public places, or calling for the annihilation of American citizens. Hamas was founded with the express goal of eradicating Israel and murdering Jews.
Since the IDF didn’t enter the war that SJP claims has been a “genocide” until 20 days later, why pick 10/7 to hold the vigil? It seems like they did so to invalidate Jewish mourning and bolster Hamas propaganda.
This kind of narrative erasure is not new for the Palestinian National Movement.
Nakba Day is held on May 15, supposedly to mark the “catastrophe” of Israel’s creation, and the embarrassment of losing the 1948 war (which they started). But on May 15, 1948, the refugee crisis that Palestinians claim to mourn hadn’t even begun. It was the day after Israel announced its independence, when five surrounding Arab armies invaded, along with help from the local population (now known as the Palestinians). Yasser Arafat chose this day for the same reason SJP chose 10/7, to overtake Jewish memory in public discourse.
Clearly, they don’t want to convince anyone based on the merits of their position. It appears they want to coerce the public into agreeing with them, which is why they responded to my question the way they did.
The histories of Palestinians and Jews are intertwined, and it is dangerous to distort part of history to fit one’s agenda. We must hold ourselves to the same standard, and acknowledge the suffering of Palestinians throughout the history of this conflict, but that doesn’t mean blaming Israel for everything. Doing so is dangerous, especially towards the Jewish students at the University of Florida (UF), which comprise nearly 20% of the undergraduate population.
There is a future in which Jewish and Palestinian voices can work together, but only when SJP is open to hearing other perspectives and participates in an actual campus dialogue. I urge members of SJP to think critically about the accusatory messages they are spreading. By spreading this propaganda, it tarnishes innocent Jewish and Zionist students, distorts truth, and makes reconciliation more difficult.
I also encourage every student to conduct their own research, and not get caught in this cycle of misinformation. By engaging effectively with both SJP and pro-Israel organizations, and doing research for themselves, a safer and more educated campus is possible.
When the peace deal was brokered and the hostages were finally returned home, I hoped to see SJP celebrating alongside their Jewish peers. It didn’t happen — but it is only when we come together to celebrate these victories and remember our shared history that we can end this cycle of violence.
David Caine is a CAMERA fellow and second-year journalism student at the University of Florida.