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How the late actor Topol turned Tevye into a Zionist
(JTA) — If you were born anytime before, say, 1975, you might remember Israel not as a source of angst and tension among American Jews but as a cause for celebration. In the 1960s and ’70s, most Jews embraced as gospel the heroic version of Israel’s founding depicted in Leon Uris’ 1958 novel “Exodus” and the 1960 movie version. The1961 Broadway musical “Milk and Honey,” about American tourists set loose in Israel, ran for over 500 performances. And that was before Israel’s lightning victory in the Six-Day War turned even fence-sitting suburban Jews into passionate Zionists.
That was the mood when the film version of “Fiddler on the Roof” came out in 1971. The musical had already been a smash hit on Broadway, riding a wave of nostalgia by Jewish audiences and an embrace of ethnic particularism by the mainstream. The part of Tevye, the put-upon patriarch of a Jewish family in a “small village in Russia,” was originated on Broadway by Zero Mostel, a Brooklyn-born actor who grew up in a Yiddish-speaking home. Ashkenazi American Jews tended to think of “Fiddler” as family history — what Alisa Solomon, author of the 2013 book “Wonder of Wonders: A Cultural History of Fiddler on the Roof,” describes as the “Jewish American origin story.”
But Mostel didn’t star in the film, which landed in theaters while the afterglow of Israel’s victory in its second major war of survival had yet to fade. Famously – or notoriously – the part went to Chaim Topol, a young Israeli actor unknown outside of Israel except for his turns in the London productions of “Fiddler.” With an Israeli in the lead, a musical about the perils and dilemmas of Diaspora became a film about Zionism. When Topol played Tevye in London, Solomon writes,“‘Fiddler’ became a site for celebration, drawing Jews as well as gentiles to the theater — some for repeat viewings — to bask in Jewish perseverance and to pay homage to Jewish survival. The show didn’t change, but the atmosphere around it did.”
Topol died this week at 87, still best known as Tevye, and his death reminded me of the ways “Fiddler” is — and isn’t — Zionist. When Tevye and his fellow villagers are forced out of Anatevke by the czarist police, they head for New York, Chicago and Krakow. Only Yente, the matchmaker, declares that she is going to the “Holy Land.” Perchik, the presumably socialist revolutionary who marries one of Tevye’s daughters, wants to transform Russian society and doesn’t say a word about the political Zionists who sought to create a workers’ utopia in Palestine.
“There is nothing explicitly or even to my mind implicitly Zionist about it,” Solomon told me a few years back. And yet, she said, “any story of Jewish persecution becomes from a Zionist perspective a Zionist story.”
When the Israeli Mission to the United Nations hosted a performance of the Broadway revival of “Fiddler” in 2016, that was certainly the perspective of then-Ambassador Dani Danon. Watching the musical, he said, he couldn’t help thinking, “What if they had a place to go [and the Jews of Anatevke could] live as a free people in their own land? The whole play could have been quite different.”
Israelis always had a complicated relationship with “Fiddler,” Solomon told me. The first Hebrew production was brought to Israel in 1965 by impresario Giora Godik. American Jews were enthralled by its resurrection of Yiddishkeit, the Ashkenazi folk culture that their parents and grandparents had left behind and the Holocaust had all but erased. Israelis were less inclined to celebrate the “Old Country.”
“Israelis were — what? — not exactly ashamed or hostile, but the Zionist enterprise was about moving away from that to become ‘muscle Jews,’ and even denouncing the stereotype of the pasty, weakling Eastern European Jews,” said Solomon, warning that she was generalizing.
That notion of the “muscle Jew” is echoed in a review of Topol’s performance by New Yorker critic Pauline Kael, who wrote that he is “a rough presence, masculine, with burly, raw strength, but also sensual and warm. He’s a poor man but he’s not a little man, he’s a big man brought low — a man of Old Testament size brought down by the circumstances of oppression.”
From left: Maria Karnilova, Tanya Everett, Zero Mostel, Julia Migenes and Joanna Merlin backstage at opening night of “Fiddler on the Roof” at the Imperial Theater in New York City, Sept. 22, 1964. (AP/Courtesy of Roadside Attractions and Samuel Goldwyn Films)
Mostel, by contrast, was plump, sweaty and vaudevillian — a very different kind of masculinity. The congrast between the two Tevyes shows up in, of all places, a parody of “Fiddler” in Mad magazine. In that 1976 comic, Mostel’s Tevye is reimagined as a neurotic, nouveau riche suburban American Jew with a comb-over, spoiled hippy children and a “spendthrift” wife; Topol’s Tevye arrives in a dream to blame his descendants for turning their backs on tradition and turning America into a shallow, consumerist wasteland. A kibbutznik couldn’t have said (or sung) it better.
Composer Jerry Bock, lyricist Sheldon Harnick and book writer Joseph Stein set out to write a hit musical, not a political statement. But others have always shaped “Fiddler” to their needs.
In the original script, Yente tells Tevye’s wife Golde, “I’m going to the Holy Land to help our people increase and multiply. It’s my mission.” In a 2004 Broadway revival, staged in the middle of the second intifada, the “increase and multiply” line was excised. In a review of Solomon’s “Wonder of Wonders,” Edward Shapiro conjectured that the producers of the revival didn’t want Yente to be seen as “a soldier in the demographic war between Jews and Arabs.”
Topol himself connected “Fiddler” to Israel as part of one long thread that led from Masada — the Judean fortress where rebellious Jewish forces fell to the Romans in the first century CE — through Russia and eventually to Tel Aviv. “My grandfather was a sort of Tevye, and my father was a son of Tevye,” Topol told The New York Times in 1971. “My grandfather was a Russian Jew and my father was born in Russia, south of Kiev. So I knew of the big disappointment with the [Russian] Revolution, and the Dreyfus trial in France, and the man with the little mustache on his upper lip, the creation of the state of Israel and ‘Masada will never fall again.’ It’s the grandchildren now who say that. It’s all one line — it comes from Masada 2,000 years ago, and this Tevye of mine already carries in him the chromosomes of those grandchildren.”
The recent all-Yiddish version of “Fiddler on the Roof” — a Yiddish translation of an English-language musical based on English translations of Yiddish short stories — readjusted that valence, returning “Fiddler” solidly to the Old Country. It arrived at a time when surveys suggested that Jews 50 and older are much more emotionally attached to Israel than are younger Jews. For decades, “Exodus”-style devotion to Israel and its close corollary — Holocaust remembrance — were the essence of American Jewish identity. Among younger generations with no first-hand memories of its founding or victory in the 1967 war, that automatic connection faded.
Meanwhile, as Israeli politics have shifted well to the right, engaged liberal Jews have rediscovered the allure of pre-Holocaust, pre-1948, decidedly leftist Eastern European Jewish culture. A left-wing magazine like Jewish Currents looks to the socialist politics and anti-Zionism of the Jewish Labor Bund; symposiums on Yiddish-speaking anarchists and Yiddish-language classes draw surprisingly young audiences. A Yiddish “Fiddler” fits this nostalgia for the shtetl (as does the “Fiddler” homage in the brand-new “History of the World, Part II,” which celebrates the real-life radical Fanny Kaplan, a Ukrainian Jew who tried to assassinate Lenin).
Topol’s Tevye was an Israeli Tevye: young, manly, with a Hebrew accent. Mostel’s Tevye was an American Tevye: heimish, New York-y, steeped in Yiddishkeit. It’s a testament to the show’s enduring appeal — and the multitudes contained within Jewish identity — that both performances are beloved.
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The post How the late actor Topol turned Tevye into a Zionist appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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Tim Walz: Get Anne Frank’s Name Out of Your Mouth
Former US Vice President and Democratic presidential candidate Kamala Harris and her running mate Minnesota Governor Tim Walz hold a campaign event in Eau Claire, Wisconsin, US, Aug. 7, 2024. Photo: REUTERS/Kevin Mohatt
Many Holocaust survivors I’ve interviewed have said it pains them when people compare anyone to Hitler and the Gestapo, or compare things to the Holocaust to try to get attention or make a political point.
They’ve also mentioned how people use Anne Frank’s name for political purposes, because most schoolchildren have read her diary.
Minnesota Governor Tim Walz (D), who, after a scandal involving alleged fraud in his state, announced he is not running for re-election, recently said the following: “We have got children hiding in their houses, afraid to go outside. Many of us grew up reading that story of Anne Frank…”
As January 27 is International Holocaust Remembrance Day, many, including Jews, will make false comparisons to the Holocaust, because they imagine this makes them noble and a fighter for social justice.
Anne Frank died in a concentration camp called Bergen-Belsen weeks before its liberation by British forces who found thousands of corpses and about 55,000 emaciated prisoners. The camp was of course run by Nazis. Frank hid in what was known as the annex in Amsterdam for 761 days. She had no option to be deported to another country safely, nor was she in Amsterdam illegally. She knew being discovered likely meant death.
I am sure illegal immigrants fear being deported and some legal immigrants may fear detention. Walz could have said that without invoking the name of Anne Frank. He did this because his goal is to paint Federal agents with a big red Nazi brush. It is also understandable that many are angry after a Federal agent shot Alex Pretti, with video footage showing Pretti did not brandish his gun, and Walz would be correct to rebuke Kristi Noem, Secretary of Homeland Security for her characterization of Pretti.
But it is important to know about communist propaganda.
In 1967, the Soviets realized there was a branding problem. The country regretted its support for Israel officially becoming a state in 1948, because it since had become a strong ally of America. The solution? The rebrand of Israel via Holocaust inversion.
Imagine! Those who rose from the ashes of the Holocaust had done so, only to become Nazis themselves. What a twist to the story! Israel would not be the David, but, rather, the Goliath.
It took some time, but by 1975, they passed Resolution 3379 at the United Nations, where the text stated that, “Zionism is a form of racism and racial discrimination.” Fifty years later, this effort has gone past their wildest dreams, with the help of Qatari funding. Most of the world lambasts Israel at every turn, blaming Israel as one of the world’s worst oppressors. Even those propagandists never thought there would be a day where Jews were called “Zio-Nazis.”
This is why Walz sees nothing wrong with a false Anne Frank comparison. Some Jews, blinded by their hatred of President Trump, don’t stop to think about the damage of false Nazi comparisons.
This does not mean one should not criticize any president or demand accountability. Sadly, people are captured by a narrative that is popular, and are not interested in much else.
A false comparison doesn’t strengthen a point, it only takes away credibility. When anyone makes any claim, you should ask: What is your evidence for that? If they don’t have it, you should tell them to use a correct phrase and retract a claim or characterization if it is false.
The reason false Nazi comparisons are a problem is that they have become a prominent component of antisemitism.
It is the Jewish way to fight against racism and to seek justice. But those who make false Holocaust comparisons dishonor the memories of those who died in the Holocaust.
The author is a writer based in New York.
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Soccer Clubs Around the World Mark International Holocaust Remembrance Day With Commemorative Events
FC Bayern and Munich FC Augsburg holding a poster to commemorate the Holocaust #WeRemember campaign. Photo: IMAGO/MIS via Reuters Connect
Soccer clubs around the world commemorated International Holocaust Remembrance Day on Tuesday by pledging to honor victims of Nazi persecution through campaigns, memorial events, and other gestures to show the importance of remembering the atrocities of World War II.
Germany’s professional leagues — including FC Bayern and Augsburg – held over the weekend a series of memorial events and matches across the country opened with a moment of silence dedicated to the #WeRemember campaign by the World Jewish Congress. The campaign aims to keep the memory of the Holocaust alive. This year’s Holocaust Remembrance Day marks the 81st anniversary of the liberation of the Auschwitz-Birkenau extermination camp in 1945.
Vor dem Spiel haben beide Mannschaften der Befreiung Auschwitz‘ gedacht. Im Stadion gab es eine Schweigeminute.#WeRemember #DSCKSV pic.twitter.com/U098DdMbiW
— Arminia ist wieder da (@arminiawiederda) January 23, 2026
In Italy, a commemorative ceremony in memory of Jewish Hungarian soccer player and coach Árpád Weisz was held Tuesday morning at Stadio Renato Dall’Ara and organized by Bologna FC. Those in attendance included Bologna FC CEO Claudio Fenucci, a delegation from the club’s youth sector, Bologna City Councilor for Sport Roberta Li Calzi, and Emanuele Ottolenghi, vice president of the Jewish community of Bologna.
Weisz lived in Italy and led Bologna to league and international victories. He also coached Fiorentina and Inter Milan, and was the first coach to claim Italian titles with two clubs. He additionally is credited with discovering talented players such as Giuseppe Meazza. He, his wife and two children were deported to the Auschwitz concentration camp, where they were murdered by the Nazis. He died in 1944 at the age of 47.
The FIGC, which is the governing body of soccer in Italy, is running a campaign on its official website and social media channels to commemorate the victims of the Holocaust. The campaign features an image of empty seats in a stadium, to remember those murdered by the Nazis.
“Remembering is not enough; there is an absolute need to stay aware of one of the greatest tragedies in human history,” said FIGC President Gabriele Gravina. “To know is to prevent, to fight, to protect, to respect. [Soccer], with its social impact, can serve as a powerful platform to spread messages of profound significance, especially to younger generations, who did not experience this atrocity firsthand but have both the right and the duty to understand it.”
England’s Manchester United marked Holocaust Remembrance Day by making a pledge “to listen, learn, and carry the legacies forward of the millions of innocent lives that were taken under persecution.”
The Football Association, which is the governing body of soccer in England, said in a released statement that International Holocaust Remembrance Day “is for everyone. It brings people together from all walks of life to strengthen communities and stand up against hatred and discrimination.”
“As the years pass, we’re growing more distant in time from the Holocaust and from the other, more recent genocides that are commemorated on HMD. That distance brings a risk – memory fades and the sharp reality of what happened becomes blurred, abstract, or even questioned,” the FA added. Soccer “has the power to bring people together in so many ways, can eradicate social barriers and be a force for good across communities. One of our key commitments is to do everything in our power to deliver a game free from discrimination and that will never stop, which is why IHMD is so important.”
The British club Chelsea FC hosted on Tuesday at its stadium a free exhibition, open to all visitors between 10 am and 2 pm, which highlights “the achievements, struggles, and resilience of athletes before, during, and after the Holocaust.” Visitors also learn about the role sport played in fighting against Nazi persecution, and the exhibit shares the stories of Jewish athletes persecuted under Nazi rule as well as the post-Holocaust rise of Jewish sports figures such as Mark Spitz, one of the most decorated Olympic swimmers of all time. The exhibition is produced by Yad Vashem in partnership with the Jewish Ethics Project and the soccer team’s Jewish Supporters’ Group.
Tottenham Hotspur hosted a Holocaust Memorial Day event for faith leaders and students, while Fulham FC shared on its website and YouTube channel a video of Holocaust survivor Barbara Frankiss talking to three Fulham players about her experience facing Nazi persecution and the importance of Holocaust remembrance.
We were honoured to host Haringey’s annual Holocaust Memorial Day event, uniting faith leaders and students from across our community to reflect on this year’s theme ‘Bridging Generations’.
#HolocaustMemorialDay #HMD2026 pic.twitter.com/dQIZk4VpUF
— Tottenham Hotspur (@SpursOfficial) January 27, 2026
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So many Jews stars in this comedy, so few chances for them to shine
At the heart of Fantasy Life, which marks Matthew Shear’s directorial debut, is a sweet relationship between dropout law student Sam (Shear) and mother-of-three Dianne (Amanda Peet). Sam is — as the movie clunkily establishes — a clumsy mess with some mental health issues; she is a former child actor who, at 51, feels washed up as an artist.
They are brought together when her husband’s parents suggest Sam as an emergency babysitter for her young daughters. Sam’s “mannying” opportunity arises when he visits his therapist after getting laid off, because he needs to confess a compulsive antisemitic tic he has developed. His imperturbable therapist (Judd Hirsch) employs his wife (Andrea Martin) as office administrator and it is she who extends both repeated good wishes to his parents and the possibility of him looking after her granddaughters. Over the course of the seasons around which the film is structured, Sam becomes the girls’ nanny and, since Dianne’s rock bassist husband David (Alessandro Nivola) is away on tour they get to know each other. The two find solace and hope in each other.

Although Nivola portrays David as a douche, and although there is sexual tension between the two leads, their relationship is treated gently and with nuance. David and Dianne’s marriage is on the rocks, but is limping along. Much to the relief of Dianne’s wealthy parents (Bob Balaban and Holland Taylor) as well as to the movie audience, the film does not — as it threatens — lurch into the tabloid spectacle of “Manny Beds Mommy.”
Shear is best known for his acting, with supporting roles in a number of Noah Baumbach films and, most recently, a similar ensemble role in Nathan Silver’s Between the Temples. As a director, Shear is clearly in love with Peet who, thus encouraged, gives a luminous performance. Shear, who also wrote the film, tries too hard to evoke the three distinguishing characteristics of his role: appealing, awkward, smart. It’s his movie but he does not look like he’s enjoying starring in the action. Perhaps he should have just cast his look-alike Adam Pally (Dr. Peter Prentice in The Mindy Project) as Sam.
Shear’s experience in the film industry has given him access to some high profile actors. His willingness to use them means that he sets the bar for his first film too high. After all, sending what is effectively his student film to SXSW for its premiere is a bold statement as is casting Zosia Mamet along with the aforementioned Balaban, Taylor, Nivola, Hirsch, Martin and Peet. Having this many celebrity names in a single production earns it attention, I guess. But it also means more scrutiny for a production than you might otherwise expect, or even want.
Though Shear succeeds in gently evoking an odd, imbalanced relationship between two people on either side of a familiar community but in different stages of life, he often does so in ways that are crudely conceived, not fully realized, or lacking a unified aesthetic. The film bills itself as a comedy, but there are few laughs and the drama lacks sustained intensity.
The film grew out of an idea Shear had brought to Pizza Club — what his friend the actor Ashley Zukerman (who does not appear in Fantasy Life) described as a few friends “going out for pizza under the guise of helping each other with projects.” Shear has been picking up bits of stories here and there, and you can feel the elements of authenticity: For example, Dianne gets recognized at a restaurant, but the star-struck waitress thinks she’s Lake Bell.
Too often, though, the scenes feel contrived. A detail announces itself as a choice rather than something organic, or a scene’s very presence seems justified only by what it’s meant to explain. It’s easy to hear the director telling the actors what to do — “Judd, do that thing with your hands”; “Andrea, just stand around helplessly tearing your hair out.” Scenes function less as drama than as annotation, dutifully clarifying Sam’s social awkwardness or her agent’s thinly veiled contempt for Dianne. Or to highlight some relationship development — let’s show how Dianne and Sam view the manny-Mommy relationship differently by showing two bumping into each other when he has the kids: He looks at her, she is happy to see him and kids, but is quite as happy to move off again.
As far as the production goes, the design is unobtrusive and the cinematography is crisp and clear. And, though he under-uses the excellent actors at his disposal — Balaban has a far wider range than the one note of disgust at the schmuck manny that he evinces repeatedly — he does not betray them. The celebrity pantheon actually adds to a homely feeling. It’s almost a joke itself, when you recognize almost every character in the movie because they are well-known actors. And that sense of familiarity is totally in keeping with the movie’s New York vibe.
Fantasy Life will conclude the New York Jewish Film Festival on Jan. 28.
The post So many Jews stars in this comedy, so few chances for them to shine appeared first on The Forward.

