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Inside the auction house driving the rare-book craze in the Orthodox world
(JTA) – Israel Mizrahi joined dozens of fellow connoisseurs of rare Jewish books last December to watch the livestream of Genazym, the hottest auction house in the market. A bookdealer by trade, Mizrahi was also on the phone being paid to advise a wealthy client who had signed up to make bids.
But as the auction proceeded, Mizrahi’s advice had little use. His trigger-happy client didn’t seem to care about established valuations: He ended up paying about $50,000 for a book estimated at half that price. “He just pressed the button and kept on bidding until the bidding was over,” Mizrahi said. “There was no convincing him out of it. He spent nearly $600,000 that day and there was no sense to it.”
Behavior that confounds veterans of the rare Jewish book market has become routine at auctions organized by Genazym.
Mizrahi recalled the sale in 2021 of a Passover Haggadah printed in the 1920s in Vienna. With attractive illustrations of a prominent 19th-century rabbi named Moses Sofer and his family, the book makes for a nice addition to a collection. It also happens to be very common.
“I sell copies for $100, and I have probably sold 150 copies in my life,” said Mizrahi, whose shop in Brooklyn is a mecca for Jewish book lovers. “It sold for about $5,500 at Genazym’s auction. I currently have it on sale still for $100.”
At the highest end of sale prices, a 16th-century first-edition Shulchan Aruch, a book of Jewish law, commanded $620,000 at a Genazym auction last September, while a copy of Noam Elimelech, a classic rabbinic treatise, printed in 1788, fetched $1.4 million four months later — in both cases at least doubling or tripling what experts thought the items were worth based on past sales of the same texts.
“Genazym has come on like a freight train into the world of Jewish auctions. Some of the prices realized are far beyond what this market has seen before,” said David Wachtel, the former Judaica consultant for Sotheby’s auction house.
Since Genazym’s first auction in 2017, it has sold some 1,900 books, manuscripts and other collectible documents for about $26 million plus commission, roughly $12 million above total starting prices, according to an analysis by the Jewish Telegraphic Agency of auction records on Genazym’s website. Genazym has increasingly outperformed the longest-standing Judaica auction firms in New York and Jerusalem.
A page from an illustrated Passover haggadah printed in Vienna in the 1920s. (Courtesy of Genazym)
It’s hard to tell exactly what’s driving the boom because the identity of Genazym’s customers is confidential and few flaunt their collections widely. One of the auction house’s owners, in a rare public comment, ventured that Jewish buyers are craving a connection with their heritage. What’s clear is that at a time when traditional libraries are cutting back on buying Jewish texts, Genazym is tapping into an emerging luxury market among Orthodox Jews — and fueling the rise of religious texts as both a status symbol and investment vehicle in some communities.
“I know the sellers, the customers and everybody involved and there is a new wealthy class of Orthodox Jews that have a limited range of things they can splurge on,” Mizrahi said. “They don’t go to Vegas, they don’t do crazy vacations. They keep kosher. So this is a way that they can splurge and show off.”
Rabbi Pini Dunner, who collects rare Jewish books, said investing in Judaica is likely attractive for some in the Hasidic community, whose religious observance is stricter than that of congregants at his Modern Orthodox synagogue in the Los Angeles area.
“There are people I know here in Beverly Hills who’ve got car collections worth tens of millions of dollars,” Dunner said. “In the Hasidic world that has no currency, just as the wow factor of a Picasso has no currency. An original manuscript or first-edition of the Noam Elimelech has a real wow factor, particularly if you can tell people the book sold for more than a million dollars at a Genazym auction.”
The impression that the Hasidic world has grown wealthier over the last decade or two is widespread and based, at least in part, on the proliferation of luxury products and services tailored for the community in places like Lakewood, New Jersey, and Kiryas Joel, New York. Weddings have become increasingly expensive and elaborate, fine dining options are common, and high-end kosher wine and liquor are more readily available.
“It wasn’t that long ago that sit-down dining was looked down upon or not even available. Now there are a plethora of options,” said Chaim Saiman, a law professor at Villanova University who studies the intersection of commerce and Jewish law. “It’s no secret that $200 bottles of Scotch appear at kiddush clubs all the time. $50 used to be a big deal, then $100 was a big deal, now we are at $200.”
Where the new wealth is coming from is not totally clear. Limited survey and U.S. Census data suggests that Orthodox Jews feel crunched by costs associated with practicing religion and that there are large pockets of poverty among them, particularly in Hasidic communities, according to Mark Trencher, the founder of Nishma Research, a nonprofit dedicated to studying the Orthodox Jewish community. The prevalence of large families also means that generational wealth can be harder to accrue for Orthodox Jews.
But there have always been high earners whose philanthropy has buttressed their communities, Trencher noted. “There are a lot of people in that community that are very successful in their businesses and they have large amounts of wealth,” he said. “Those people generally are huge donors to charities. From a financial perspective, those communities are probably doing much better than you would expect them to.”
Many of those high earners make their money through entrepreneurship rather than professional success in the white-collar world. Many nursing home chains — an industry valued at an estimated $171 billion and where growth is expected — have Orthodox owners. Amazon has also created new opportunities for Orthodox businessmen. Orthodox landlords, meanwhile, have benefited from skyrocketing real estate prices in places like Williamsburg, Brooklyn.
A page from a 16th-century first-edition Shulchan Aruch, a book of Jewish law, which fetched $620,000 at a Genazym auction. (Courtesy of Genazym).
Recent reporting in The New York Times about the Hasidic education system has provided a window into another stream of revenue for private businesses in the community. Entrepreneurs in the community have responded to the increased availability of government funding for special education in New York in recent years by establishing companies to service Hasidic schools, with the government footing the bill. In one example highlighted by the Times, a married Hasidic couple opened such a business in 2014 when they were 21 and 19 years old; in 2022, their company received more than $38 million in government funding.
The owners of another set of companies providing services to Hasidic schools appear to have used their windfall to purchase rare books through Genazym. The owners were indicted in January for allegedly billing the government for more than $1 million in childcare services that they never provided and otherwise defrauding the government out of more than $2.8 million.
Prosecutors are seeking to have the alleged fraudsters forfeit seven books and other documents as listed in a federal indictment. They include manuscripts with a rabbinic signature and rare books of blessing and Jewish law, all of which match items listed on Genazym auctions, where they sold for a total of about $274,000.
Buying Jewish texts at auction can seem like a savvy investment for buyers seeking to safeguard or grow their wealth. Before Genazym launched, a typical Genazym buyer might have invested in U.S. Treasury bills or the stock market, according to Wachtel, the former Sotheby’s consultant.
“I think Genazym has been able to convince people that this is a good vehicle for establishing and growing wealth,” he said. “That also dovetails with your ability to, let’s face it, show off. Somebody comes to your house, you can show them a first-edition Shulchan Aruch. But you’re not going to say, hey, come look at my T-bills.”
The auction house’s tactics appear tailor-made for this growing market. Its motto is “Own your heritage,” and it’s printed on the catalogs the company distributes through popular Orthodox magazines like Ami or Mishpacha or podcasts, places where people with no prior interest in books might encounter the hype. The catalogs also appear in synagogues in heavily Hasidic areas like Brooklyn or Lakewood, but without the prices printed on them so as not to violate a Jewish prohibition against discussing financial matters on Shabbat.
The descriptions in the catalogs emphasize any links that exist between the items for sale and notable rabbis from history, especially figures who established rabbinic dynasties that continue to exist today and who are revered by yeshiva-educated Orthodox Jews. The link might be a signature of a rabbi in a ledger from an old fundraising tour that took place 200 years ago. Or it might be that an important rabbi owned the book in question or even prayed out of it. Like a pair of pants of a prominent Israeli rabbi that drew widespread attention when they briefly went up for auction last month, these texts are seen by some as conferring holiness onto those who possess them. By virtue of their pedigree, these artifacts might even be seen as a segula, or Jewish protective charm.
In its promotional materials and live auctions, Genazym also uses more colloquial and hyperbolic language to describe its items than traditional auction houses, which tend to stick to the kind of terminology used by academic scholars.
“Genazym found a formula to make books and manuscripts really exciting for the layperson, especially in the Orthodox community,” said Yoel Finkelman, a former curator of the Judaica Collection at the National Library of Israel. “They are not using the vocabulary of experts, they’re using plain ordinary language, like ‘very old’ or ‘very rare.’ No one at Sotheby’s would ever refer even to a thousand-year-old book that way.”
Genazym’s unique approach extends to the delivery of items to buyers. A traditional buyer in the rare Jewish book market, like Michelle Margolis, Columbia University’s Jewish studies librarian, might only care that the book they bought is safely delivered. But with Genazym, the books come wrapped in a proper clamshell and velvet bag. “I rolled my eyes when my delivery arrived, but at the same time that’s a lot of investment,” Margolis said, adding that many other auction houses have been cutting costs, for example, by doing away with their customary printed catalogs.
Jacob Djmal, who lives in Brooklyn, has dabbled in Judaica collecting for many years, an interest he picked up from his grandfather. He remembers suddenly seeing Genazym’s advertising everywhere. “They started reaching out to you in every way possible, finding a demographic that wasn’t aware before. Every Genazym auction I have people texting me — ‘Did you hear about this? Did you hear about that?’ — as if something is happening that had never happened before.”
Sometimes, that is true. A breakout moment came during the December auction, when Genazym cleared $4.4 million in sales, about $2.6 million above total starting prices.
“If there was any doubt that Genazym were now the most commercially remarkable rare book auction house on Earth, the results of their latest Judaica auction this week put paid to that: essentially almost every lot sold for at least twice [the estimated amount],” a major British book collector living in France said on his anonymous Twitter account, which has around 110,000 followers, in December.
If there was any doubt that Genazym were now the most commercially remarkable rare book auction house on earth, the results of their latest Judaica auction this week put paid to that: essentially almost every lot sold for *at least* twice estimate…. 1/https://t.co/iAC4sQudIz pic.twitter.com/eeunjqWzAs
— Incunabula (@incunabula) December 13, 2022
It remains to be seen whether Genazym can challenge Sotheby’s Judaica division as the destination for sellers with the rarest and most valuable books. Last year, a medieval prayer book sold for $8.3 million at Sotheby’s and this year, the New York auction house is accepting bids for the oldest known copy of the Hebrew Bible, which is expected to fetch as much as $50 million.
But Djmal considers especially remarkable about Genazym is not just the high prices but also the way in which rare books have caught on among Orthodox youth as something cool. “My son and his friends in yeshiva are talking about these items,” Djmal said. “These books represent rabbis they have heard about from a young age.”
The team behind Genazym’s success is led by three brothers from the Stefansky family who live in Jerusalem and New York. Before starting an auction house they worked for many years as private dealers in the rare book market. Their names, Chaim, Moshe and Bezalel, rarely appear anywhere and they almost never grant interviews. Chaim Stefansky made an exception for the Jewish Telegraphic Agency and requested that this article not put him in the spotlight nor portray Genazym’s success as a product of his business acumen.
Stefansky said Genazym has tapped into a universal and deep-seated desire of people to strengthen their identities by connecting with the past. The Jewish community, he said, has been poorly served by an emphasis on historical and even current persecution.
“Always, we are victimized and we cry,” Stefansky said. “What we have in common maybe is that your grandmother and my grandmother were sharing the same bed in Auschwitz. Give me something positive of my past to be proud of. Your heritage has not only sorrow but also a happy, rich, and huge intellectual tradition. So Genazym comes and tells people about their heritage. It’s yours. It belongs to you.”
He said the same thing can be done with any ethnic or religious group.
“If you go to the Irish community and press the right buttons in terms of what you know that every Irish person is extremely proud of, I think you’ll be very successful,” Stefansky said.
He rejected the impression that Genazym’s buyers come primarily from the ranks of the nouveau riche in the Hasidic world.
“It’s coming from all sections,” Stefansky said. “People will say that there’s a lot of fresh money in the market. But we also have very good old money. We have institutions. And, also, the regular man. Mostly, the regular man, who never knew he could have access to any of this.”
One of the only customers who agreed to be identified and interviewed for this article is Rick Probstein, who says he’s spent more than $100,000 at the company’s auctions. He can’t remember when he started seeing Genazym catalogs but he had never collected Judaica before, which is perhaps surprising given that he’s an Orthodox Jew who’s been working in the collectibles business since he was a child trading baseball cards.
Today, at 53, Probstein is one of the largest sellers of sports collectibles in the world, operating through a dedicated account on eBay. “I run a humongous business — I am doing something like $160 million a year,” he said of his sales volume.
Probstein, who lives in Passaic, New Jersey, had long felt a pang of guilt about the lack of Jewish content in his collection. “I collect things but what do I have of my own heritage?” he recalled thinking to himself. “So when I started getting the catalogs, I said, ‘I gotta be a good Jew.’ I started bidding on things and I got really into it.”
Once Probstein got started, the Stefansky brothers began checking in on him, providing concierge service and cultivating him as a client.
“This is a boutique run by a Jewish family with a personal touch,” Probstein said “They call me on the phone, saying, ‘Rick, did you get the catalog? What did you think? Here are some items that you could really like.’”
Bidding on Genayzm items is not purely sentimental for Probstein. “I’m putting real money into it because I think that from an investment standpoint, it has a lot of upside,” he said.
Still, the items he buys tend to have personal significance.
“I am partial to items relating to the Chofetz Chaim,” Probstein said, referring to the rabbi and Jewish scholar Yisrael Meir Kagan, who died in 1933. Probstein’s oldest son is named Yisrael Meir in his honor. The Chofetz Chaim also appeals to Probstein because of his writings about lashon hara, the prohibition in Jewish law against speaking evil of people. “I think that speech is important and he’s sort of the embodiment of that,” Probstein said.
Genazym has sold six letters and a handwritten blessing signed or written by the Chofetz Chaim at prices ranging from about $16,000 to $68,000.
Ever since Probstein started collecting Judaica, these items have served as a draw for family and friends visiting his home.
“People in my community that come over for kiddush [refreshments after Shabbat service] know that I have this stuff and they always want to see it,” Probstein said. “Nobody ever looks at my sports memorabilia collection because it’s in my office but my Judaica stuff is in my house. They look at the letters and talk about the historical context. People love it.”
The revelation that so many Jews appear fascinated with their own history and want to engage with scholarly tradition comes at a time when many Jewish libraries have been struggling.
The library of the Jewish Theological Seminary in Manhattan, which has the most comprehensive and significant collection of Jewish books outside of Israel, has seen its footprint downsized amid budget cuts at the Conservative movement seminary. Also under financial pressure, American Jewish University was forced to sell its Bel Air campus in Los Angeles, which housed a library. Hebrew Union College, meanwhile, opted to end its Reform rabbinical training program in Cincinnati and even though the campus library has survived the cuts, financial uncertainty remains.
Genazym’s populist approach might hold lessons for Jewish institutions and university libraries with significant Judaica collections that hope to engage the public around books.
“The lesson is to lay off the snobbery a little bit,” said Finkelman, the former Judaica curator at the National Library of Israel, which is slated to reopen in a new and more accessible space later this year. “The goal of public institutions is to enable preservation but also to enable public access and public education. There are great stories in books and archives.”
Finkleman said he has encountered sneering reactions to the way Genazym promotes books, and they are similar to the response in the United States when the pop star Lizzo played a crystal flute that belonged to James Madison on stage at the Library of Congress.
“There are echoes of the same thing here,” he said. “Get out of the snobby ivory tower and realize you are preserving history for people.”
—
The post Inside the auction house driving the rare-book craze in the Orthodox world appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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Looking for the right Yiddish word? This 1950 reference book finds it for you
As more people explore Yiddish, a thick 1950 book I discovered on a beloved friend’s shelf can help anyone find the exact right word for any situation.
Der Oytser fun der Yidisher Shprakh (The Treasure of the Yiddish language) published by the YIVO Institute in New York and available digitally through the Yiddish Book Center, is a 1,000-page Yiddish thesaurus, modeled on Roget’s Thesaurus of the English Language.
Like Roget’s, a standard source for writers and students of English, Der Oytser is not arranged alphabetically, but according to concepts. If you’re looking for a word related to evil, you look up the concept “evil,” and there you find many words related to it, for example, “untoward, black, sinister, wicked, wrong, vicious, sinful and criminal.”
The book was born of a project by author Nahum Stutchkoff to create a new kind of lexicon for the Yiddish language. He launched the project under the editorial oversight of Max Weinreich, the great Yiddish philologist and then director of YIVO. Yiddish had had many dictionaries over the course of its existence, but never a thesaurus of this kind. The result is a magnificent work of lexicography, 15 years in the making, a storehouse of over 175,000 Yiddish words, phrases, folk sayings, and idioms.
The book is out of print but Yiddish students and enthusiasts can download it from the Yiddish Book Center’s digital library. There’s also a free digitized version of the book printed in the English alphabet for people who don’t read Yiddish. Instead of an index, readers use the search box.
In 1950, a mere five years after the Holocaust, the Oytser was finally published. It included a preface by Weinreich, with the following words:
The very fact that, despite the years of the huge catastrophe that befell our people, a great man with vision has appeared to gather the scattered treasures of our language, can surely serve as a symbol of our unbroken collective will to survive. In Nahum Stutchkoff we see a love of mame-loshn, a keen understanding of both broad concepts and the smallest of details, tireless perseverance and pragmatism in carrying out the designated plan for Der Oytser fun der Yidisher Shprakh.
It is without a doubt, the greatest complete achievement of Yiddish lexicography since Jehoshua Mordechai Lifschitz‘s dictionary, compiled during the last third of the nineteenth century.
For the first time we see the full inventory of the Yiddish language, in accordance with the knowledge that the field of Yiddish research has accumulated under the authority of the YIVO Institute.
Weinreich goes on to speak about the problems of standardizing Yiddish, Yiddish dialectology, the Germanisms, Americanisms, Slavicisms in Yiddish and how Stutchkoff addresses these issues.
In his own introduction, Stutchkoff states he had two purposes in mind: (1) to gather as many Yiddish words, phrases and proverbs as he could, and (2) to provide a helpful tool for the Yiddish speaker and writer.
When you use a dictionary, says Stutchkoff, you have a word in mind and want to find or clarify its meaning. The words in a dictionary, therefore, are arranged alphabetically. His thesaurus, on the other hand, like Roget’s, is for a user who has an idea but can’t recall the right word. It is therefore arranged according to ideas. He created 620 categories, such as onheyb, or beginning (category No. 41); glaykhayt, equality (153), and libe, love (500).
Let’s say you’re looking for a Yiddish word related to thieves. You may know the word ganef, thief, but need a different word. So you turn to the index at the back of the Oytser where there are thousands of words arranged alphabetically and find the word ganef, which has the number 483 next to it That means all the words related to ganef are listed under number 483 of the 620 idea categories. You would then turn to the section for number 483 and find no less than seven pages of terms and expressions related to ganef, including, for example, the word marvikher — a dealer in stolen items, as well as the proverb dos ken nor a ganef (Only a thief would think of that). Those seven pages demonstrate the incredible richness of the Yiddish language.
The Oytser also contains the colorful slang of various occupations and groups such as klezmers, thieves, cobblers, actors, tailors and butchers.
Nahum Stutchkoff wasn’t an academic. He was an actor, a playwright, and a popular radio personality before he became a masterful lexicographer.
Stutchkoff was born in 1893 in a town called Brok in Czarist Poland. When he was 7, his family moved to Warsaw, where he was sent to cheder and yeshiva. At the age of 16, he was drawn to the theatre. He began translating and reworking plays for a Yiddish theatrical company from the standard European repertoire, such as, for example, Moliere’s The Miser. Eventually he became an actor too, touring with the company throughout Poland and Russia.
In 1912 he served a stint in the Czarist army. Upon his release in 1917, he again joined a theatrical troupe, eventually becoming director of the Yiddish State Theatre in Vitebsk. In 1923, he emigrated to the United States.
In New York, where he settled, he performed in various Yiddish theatres and authored plays, musical comedies and operettas for the Yiddish theatre. In 1926, he became secretary of The Yiddish Playwrights League of America.
He then took up a radio career. Every Sunday, starting in 1932, on the Forward radio station WEVD (the call letters are the initials of Eugene Victor Debs, the leader of the American Socialist Party), he performed a children’s radio show called The Uncle Nahum Hour, as well as other radio programs.
In 1931, he turned to lexicography, publishing another creative work: a 330-page Yiddish rhyming dictionary.
Stutchkoff died in 1965, but he left us a great legacy: a wealthy storehouse of the Yiddish language that continues to inform and entertain Yiddish enthusiasts everywhere.
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The harrowing German concept that Donald Trump has not yet managed to achieve
Since the start of his second term, Donald Trump has been following a despot’s playbook. Trump himself has all but acknowledged this, by gleefully sharing with New York Times reporters Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan for their new book a “historian’s” assessment that Trump has more power than Attila the Hun, Genghis Khan, Napoleon, Stalin, Mao and Hitler.
Never mind that it wasn’t a historian at all who came to this conclusion, but a longtime friend and caddy of golfer Gary Player. The anecdote shows what’s going on in Trump’s head: the fantasies of an 80-year-old would-be despot who’s more fixated on his place in history than on the concerns of even the MAGA faithful.
What Trump has been up to amounts to nothing less than trying to capture and radicalize the American soul — persecuting immigrants of color, gays, lesbians and other minorities; coarsening Americans into Trump’s own brand of vulgarity; lobbing figurative Molotov cocktails at the rule of law; perverting America’s history; and sowing divisions that echo the raw spite that once split North from South. It’s an attempted American variant of what Germans call Gleichschaltung, the Nazis’ 1933 rapid re-engineering of every facet of German life — business, culture, sports, education, and all else — to conform to the doctrines of Adolf Hitler.
With America’s 250th birthday now behind us, it’s worth asking how far Trump has already taken the country down the path of an American Gleichschaltung.
As Hitler was rising to power, Germany was in a perpetual state of political, economic and social upheaval. During the 15 years between Germany’s World War I defeat and Hitler’s rise to power, roughly a dozen serious attempts were made to overthrow the government — from communist revolutions to right-wing putsches. The best known is Hitler’s own failed Beer Hall Putsch in Munich in 1923.
On the evening of Nov. 8, 1923, Hitler and a contingent of Brown Shirts stormed Munich’s Bürgerbräukeller during a gathering of Bavarian government and community leaders. Climbing onto a chair, Hitler bellowed “The German revolution has begun!” The next day the Nazi leader led 2,000 followers on a march through the city, hoping to incite a nationwide uprising. Bavarian state police were waiting. About a dozen of Hitler’s followers were killed in a fusillade of gunfire. Hitler escaped but was tracked down and arrested. He was given a five-year prison sentence but a Nazi-friendly court granted him parole after only 10 months.
Hitler focused on rebuilding the party. When the Great Depression struck Germany, putting millions out of work, Hitler’s radical and antisemitic pronouncements found resonance among the populace, resulting in increased political power for the Nazi party. As successive coalition governments fell in the face of political and economic turmoil and street violence, the Nazi leader was made chancellor in January 1933 through backroom political dealings.
After fire destroyed the Reichstag on Feb. 27, 1933, there was little stopping the German chancellor on his march to one-man rule. The very next day key civil liberties — including freedom of expression, of the press, and of assembly, as well as protections against house searches and property confiscation — were abruptly suspended by a decree whose title claimed it was “For The Protection of People and State.” Amid mass arrests and terror by Hitler’s Storm Troopers, and with much of the populace already backing the Nazi leader, Gleichschaltung was carried out within two months.
Which brings us to Donald Trump.
The Jan. 6, 2021 assault on the U.S. Capitol echoes the Beer Hall Putsch in one essential respect: a leader inciting followers to march in an attempted coup d’état.
“After this, we’re going to walk down and I’ll be there with you. We’re gonna walk down to the Capitol,” Trump told the MAGA mob at a rally. “Because you’ll never take back our country with weakness. You have to show strength and you have to be strong.” Trump lied; he didn’t accompany them on the march. Back at the White House, he let the violence happen as America watched in horror.
Neither Trump nor Hitler had to stay long in the wilderness. During Hitler’s brief incarceration at Landsberg Prison, Nazi comrades like Rudolf Hess made pilgrimages to visit the boss. For Trump, after retreating to Mar-a-Lago, it became a parade of sycophants — among them the late Lindsey Graham, Matt Gaetz, Lauren Boebert and Marjorie Taylor Greene — each making the journey to pay homage.
Trump’s intent to rule like an authoritarian began manifesting itself on the very first day of his return to the White House.
There was the flurry of Executive Orders on inauguration day, signed with Trump’s Sharpie in carefully choreographed photo-ops. It was all spectacle, as Trump basked in the role of a ruler issuing edicts that were intended to recast the land in his image. “Could you imagine Biden doing this,?” Trump boasted while holding up a freshly signed order. The most outrageous edict was Trump’s pardon of about 1,500 Jan. 6 insurrectionists, akin to Third Reich pardons for Nazis who had been convicted of crimes before Hitler ascended to power.
Trump’s unleashing of ICE and other federal agents to terrorize immigrants showed how far he was willing to go — masked agents making arrests at Home Depot parking lots and inside immigration courts, brutally yanking people out of their vehicles, and in Chicago, a raid that included agents rappelling from a Black Hawk helicopter and using flashbang grenades, automatic weapons, and breaching tools as they burst into apartments.
Trump insists that he is above the law. His most radical acolyte — Stephen Miller — argued that Trump’s absolutist power extends to relations with other countries, an argument for taking Greenland.
And so here we are, a year-and-a-half after Trump’s second inauguration. The republic is battered, bruised and wobbly, but it still stands. To a significant degree this is because of federal courts that have blocked dozens of Trump’s assaults against democracy — often with excoriating words, like these from U.S. District Judge William Young, a Ronald Reagan appointee: “The President’s palpable misunderstanding that the government simply cannot seek retribution for speech he disdains poses a great threat to Americans’ freedom of speech.”
Hitler never faced this kind of judicial opposition. And he was never confronted with the magnitude and fearlessness of citizen resistance that has swept across the US — like the Minneapolis protests triggered by the killings of Renée Nicole Good and Alex Pretti.
Trump’s approval ratings have plummeted because of his war in Iran and soaring consumer prices, some Republicans are finally daring to resist him, the MAGA movement is fraying, Jeffrey Epstein still dogs him, and a snowballing number of Americans are infuriated over Trump’s abuse of his presidential powers to enrich himself and his family — raking in at least $2.2 billion in 2025.
With the midterm elections four months away, our democracy may be facing greater peril than at any time since the Civil War. Like a mortally wounded beast, Trump may resort to desperate measures for survival. He’s already working to poison the midterms — dismantling federal election oversight, suing states to imply their elections are insecure, and stoking daily mistrust about any contest where Democrats might topple Republicans. Each move lays the groundwork for claiming fraud, contesting results, or deploying more extreme measures under the guise of “protecting” the vote.
We needn’t look too far back in history for despots who chose a scorched-earth exit as they faced the loss of power.
The post The harrowing German concept that Donald Trump has not yet managed to achieve appeared first on The Forward.
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The real reason Clavicular is in Israel
Clavicular is partying in Tel Aviv this week.
If you don’t know who that is, first of all, I’m happy for you. Clavicular is a looksmaxxer, part of an online male subculture that subscribes to the idea that becoming as hot as possible is the main, perhaps the only, meaningful thing to do with one’s life, and the only road to success. To achieve peak hotness — “ascend,” in looksmaxxing lingo — followers of the doctrine engage in such activities as hitting themselves in the face with a hammer to supposedly sharpen their jaw line (“bone-smashing”), or taking steroids and meth to improve their physique.
The last time Clav — as people call him, though his real name is Braden Peters — went viral, it was for getting turned down repeatedly by French women during Paris fashion week. The time before that was for dancing with a bunch of far-right influencers, including noted antisemite Nick Fuentes and manosphere titan Andrew Tate, to Kanye West’s Führer-sampling song “Heil Hitler” and singing along to the offensive lyrics.
Which is why Clavicular’s sudden appearance in Israel was such a surprise — and a controversial one. In one video, the bouncer at a Tel Aviv club kicks him out, saying no one who hates Israel is welcome inside. Several Israeli feminist influencers have also decried his visit, pointing to his bad behavior with women. And, of course, countless users online have accused him of normalizing genocide, including mega-popular streamer Hasan Piker. But others are excited by his presence; a female IDF soldier is also appearing in his videos (she’s now facing disciplinary action for the collab), as is Chabad influencer, Yossi Farro and he’s drawn excited crowds in Tel Aviv.
Farro was perhaps the first Jewish influencer to court Clavicular after the “Heil Hitler” incident; his usual schtick is wrapping tefillin with celebrities. But he made a video last month feeding the looksmaxxer the traditional Ashkenazi Shabbat stew cholent — Clav said it was good — and it went viral in the Jewish world, where people decried the effort at rehabilitation. But the clip also went viral with antisemites: Fuentes said he wanted to hang a mezuzah and get in with Jews, too.
The first announcement that Clavicular was in Tel Aviv also came with a post from Farro, crossposted by several large Jewish social media accounts. In the video, Farro gifts Clav a memento that could not be more of our times: a necklace featuring an OpenAI logo with a Star of David in the middle. Later, he posted a video of a conversation with Clavicular calling the biblical Joseph the first looksmaxxer. It felt surreal.
That’s the whole point. Clavicular is just as obsessive about his fame as he is about his looks. Clicks boost accounts no matter whether they’re from haters or followers; monetized social media pays the same amount for adoring comments as it does for ones calling Clavicular evil and praying to spit on his grave. Engagement is engagement. (Farro, who didn’t reply to a request for comment, seems to be operating by the same philosophy.)
The simple answer as to why he was in Israel was because it would be controversial — which it was — and controversy earns him money and eyes. Clavicular said that he noticed everyone was talking about the nation, but almost no influencers were going. He figured he would go viral if he bucked the trend. It’s not by accident that Clav’s one-time publicist, Mitchell Jackson, specializes in cancelled figures of all political persuasions, including Candace Owens, Caroline Calloway and an OnlyFans model named Adam22. The point is attention, not adulation.
In an interview with The Free Press, Clavicular said he did not see his visit as political; he came to party. And he criticized the idea that a young influencer should have any political take, or that the outlet should even ask about his views. He doesn’t know about anything but looksmaxxing, he wrote in a post, and believes it’s irresponsible for him to talk about anything else. While one could say advising teens to take steroids and meth is also irresponsible, he’s not wrong about his ignorance of geopolitics.
But many Israelis and Jews are happy to have him, despite his “Heil Hitler” singalong. Israel has been short on positive PR, and Clav has called the country beautiful and fun. Never mind that Clavicular is followed by at least as many haters, watching out of Schadenfreude, as he is fans, and hardly brings uncomplicated good vibes to Israel with him. At least someone popular among the youth, who are increasingly critical of Israel, said something good about the nation. Many Israelis seem desperate enough for global goodwill that they’re willing to overlook Clav’s antisemitism. People are even claiming he’s Jewish now. (And maybe he is; he hasn’t confirmed or denied, but he’s certainly never mentioned it before.)
And, of course, Clavicular does have adherents who believe anything he does is cool, that he’s always “mogging” (dominating via his powerful aura, more or less). So even if he proclaims he has no political opinion, everything is politics and his presence serves to cast Israel in a more positive light, even if it’s the nihilistic glow of an amoral influencer who cares about looking good above all else. He may be cringe, but he’s popular. Maybe that’s enough for some, but it highlights how low the bar is for Israel’s public image in this moment.
For Clavicular, though, it’s all a game. He doesn’t care about Israel’s image or the war in Gaza or settlers or Palestinians. His only side is his own, and even then he doesn’t need to be popular; he only needs to be seen. He said he plans to stream in Russia next.
The post The real reason Clavicular is in Israel appeared first on The Forward.
