Uncategorized
Judaism doesn’t want you to wander and live just anywhere — or does it?
(JTA) — I was a remote worker long before the pandemic made it a thing, but it was only last month that I really took advantage of it. Early on the morning of New Year’s Day, I boarded a plane from Connecticut bound for Mexico, where I spent a full month sleeping in thatch-roofed palapas, eating more tacos than was probably wise and bathing every day in the Pacific. I’ll spare you the glorious details, but suffice it to say, it wasn’t a bad way to spend a January.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, I found myself again and again coming into contact with expats who had traded in their urban lives in northern climes for a more laid-back life in the tropics. There was the recently divorced motorcycle enthusiast slowly wending his way southward by bike as he continued to work a design job for a major American bank. There was the yoga instructor born not far from where I live in Massachusetts who owned an open-air rooftop studio just steps from the waves. There were the countless couples who had chosen to spend their days running beachfront bars or small hotels on the sand. And then there were the seemingly endless number and variety of middle-aged northerners rebooting their lives in perpetual sunshine.
Such people have long mystified me. It’s not hard to understand the lure of beachside living, and part of me envies the freedom to design your own life from the ground up. But there’s also something scary about it. Arriving in middle age in a country where you know nobody, whose language is not your own, whose laws and cultural mores, seasons and flora, are all unfamiliar — it feels like the essence of shallow-rootedness, like a life devoid of all the things that give one (or at least me) a sense of comfort and security and place. The thought of exercising the right to live literally anywhere and any way I choose opens up a space so vast and limitless it provokes an almost vertiginous fear of disconnection and a life adrift.
Clearly, this feeling isn’t universally shared. And the fact that I have it probably owes a lot to my upbringing. I grew up in an Orthodox family, which by necessity meant life was lived in a fairly small bubble. Our house was within walking distance of our synagogue, as it had to be since walking was the only way to get there on Shabbat and holidays. I attended a small Jewish day school, where virtually all of my friends came from families with similar religious commitments. Keeping kosher and the other constraints of a religious life had a similarly narrowing effect on the horizons of my world and thus my sense of life’s possibilities. Or at least that’s how it often felt.
What must it be like — pardon the non-kosher expression — to feel as if the world is your oyster? That you could live anywhere, love anyone, eat anything and make your life whatever you want it to be? Thrilling, yes — but also frightening. The sense of boundless possibility I could feel emanating from those sun-baked Mexicans-by-choice was seductive, but tempered by aversion to a life so unmoored.
The tension between freedom and obligation is baked into Jewish life. The twin poles of our national narrative are the Exodus from Egypt and the revelation at Sinai, each commemorated by festivals separated by exactly seven weeks in the calendar, starting with Passover. The conventional understanding is that this juxtaposition isn’t accidental. God didn’t liberate the Israelites from slavery so they could live free of encumbrances on the Mayan Riviera. Freedom had a purpose, expressed in the giving of the Torah at Sinai, with all its attendant rules and restrictions and obligations. Freedom is a central value of Jewish life — Jews are commanded to remember the Exodus every day. But Jewish freedom doesn’t mean the right to live however you want.
Except it might mean the right to live any place you want. In the 25th chapter of Leviticus, God gives the Israelites the commandment of the Jubilee year, known as yovel in Hebrew. Observed every 50 years in biblical times, the Jubilee has many similarities to the shmita (sabbatical) year, but with some additional rituals. The text instructs: “And you shall hallow the 50th year. You shall proclaim liberty throughout the land for all its inhabitants. It shall be a jubilee for you: each of you shall return to your holding and each of you shall return to your family.”
Among the requirements of the Jubilee was that ancestral lands be returned to their original owners. Yet the word for liberty is a curious one: “d’ror.” The Talmud explains its etymology this way: “It is like a man who dwells [medayer] in any dwelling and moves merchandise around the entire country” (Rosh Hashanah 9b).
The liberty of the Jubilee year could thus be said to have two contrary meanings — individuals had the right to return to their ancestral lands, but they were also free not to. They could live in any dwelling they chose. The sense of liberty connoted by the biblical text is a specifically residential one: the freedom to live where one chooses. Which pretty well describes the world we live in today. Jewish ancestral lands are freely available to any Jew who wants to live there. And roughly half the Jews of the world choose not to.
Clearly, I’m among them. And while I technically could live anywhere, I’m pretty sure I don’t want to. I like where I live — not because of any particular qualities of this place, though I do love its seasons and its smells and its proximity to the people I care about and the few weeks every fall when the trees become a riotous kaleidoscope. But mostly because it’s mine.
A version of this essay appeared in My Jewish Learning’s Recharge Shabbat newsletter. Subscribe here.
—
The post Judaism doesn’t want you to wander and live just anywhere — or does it? appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Uncategorized
He stormed the Capitol wearing a Camp Auschwitz sweatshirt 5 years ago. Where is he now?
A joint session of Congress peacefully certified President Donald Trump’s election victory last year on the date federally mandated: Jan. 6. But five years ago, after President Joe Biden won, the U.S. Capitol was overrun with people aiming to prevent a smooth transition of power.
Standing out among the mob of rioters was a long-haired, bearded man in a black hoodie with the words “Camp Auschwitz” emblazoned across the front.
Who was the ‘Camp Auschwitz’ rioter?
Robert Keith Packer, a former pipefitter and unlicensed plumber from Newport News, Virginia, gained national attention for wearing the sweatshirt. It had “STAFF” printed on the back, and a drawing of a skull and the phrase “Work Brings Freedom,” a translation of the slogan at the entrance of the Auschwitz concentration camp, on the front. The hoodie drew widespread condemnation.
“Why the instant notoriety?” asked the Forward’s Irene Katz Connelly the day after the attack. “The ‘Camp Auschwitz’ sweatshirt isn’t covetable or beautiful in any way. Even in the midst of a day full of shocks, it immediately stood out. But it is the absurd endpoint of extremism that disguises itself in styles we enjoy.”
Packer, who spent 36 minutes inside the Capitol, was arrested a week after the riot. When the FBI interviewed him about the outfit, he said he wore it because he was cold. Underneath the sweatshirt, he was wearing a “Schutzstaffel” shirt, referring to Adolf Hitler’s SS paramilitary unit.
The sweatshirt was indicative of a larger trend
Packer’s shirt stood out for its audacity, but it was not the only antisemitic symbol on display that day. Some people were also marching with a flag of Kekistan, a fake country created by members of the alt-right. The flag resembles a Nazi swastika. There was also imagery of Pepe the Frog, a cartoon amphibian which was co-opted by extremist groups and which the Anti-Defamation League labeled a hate symbol.
In the weeks leading up to the riot, the ADL reported on a Washington, D.C., demonstration of the Proud Boys, a far-right militant group, who were wearing T-shirts emblazoned with the initials 6MWE, short for “Six Million Wasn’t Enough.”
The nooses displayed on Jan. 6 evoke the “Day of the Rope,” described in the 1978 white supremacist novel The Turner Diaries by William Luther Pierce. The book is often regarded as a blueprint for far-right extremists and antisemites, and has been cited as an inspiration for various acts of violence — including the bombing of a federal building in Oklahoma City in 1995 and the 1984 murder of Alan Berg, a Jewish radio host.
How was Packer charged?
Packer, who was 56 at the time of the riot, was arrested and charged with unlawfully entering the Capitol and engaging in disorderly conduct. Federal police who conducted a search of his home found a whole host of Nazi and other white supremacist material, including “swastika artwork” and an “image of Hitler.”
Prosecutors said Packer was a “habitual criminal offender for 25 years with 21 convictions for mostly drunk driving, but also for larceny, drug possession, and forgery.”
Hoping for lenient sentencing, Packer’s sister said you can’t “judge a book by its cover.” Packer’s lawyer, Stephen Brennwald, compared his client to Forrest Gump, “a man who went through life almost as if he was outside of his body and mind, looking in.” Brennwald also argued that Packer’s sentence should be set by his actions, not his attire.
In Sep. 2022, a federal judge sentenced Packer to 75 days in jail and ordered him to pay $500 in restitution.
Where is Packer now?
Packer was pardoned last year by President Trump, along with about 1,500 other people charged with crimes related to Jan. 6.
Since then, Packer was arrested for an animal attack in Newport News. The September dog attack left four people hospitalized and requiring surgery, according to local reports.
Packer’s dogs were taken by animal control and Packer was taken to jail then released, but faces several charges, including a felony that could bring a five-year prison sentence, according to documents described by The Virginian-Pilot. At the time of the September attack, he also had charges pending from a separate May dog attack.
A hearing in Packer’s case is scheduled for Jan. 7.
The last time the Department of Justice updated their case file on Packer was in June 2023, when he tried to appeal his sentence, arguing that the “court erroneously considered the offensive T-shirt in fashioning the prison sentence.” The judge ruled it “moot” since Packer had already completed his prison term.
Are Camp Auschwitz sweatshirts still around?
Yes and no.
Packer may have brought the Camp Auschwitz sweatshirt to the public’s attention, but it has been around for over a decade, according to an extremism expert at the ADL. Copycat versions popped up online shortly after Packer wore it, but were taken down after complaints. A search today on Amazon, eBay, Etsy, Walmart and Zazzle found none available. A couple of off-brand sites are still offering Camp Auschwitz attire — including a tank top and a baby onesie.
The post He stormed the Capitol wearing a Camp Auschwitz sweatshirt 5 years ago. Where is he now? appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
Trump Threatens to Hit Iran ‘Very Hard’ if More Protesters Killed as Supreme Leader Said to Be Prepared to Flee
Protesters march in downtown Tehran, Iran, Dec. 29, 2025. Photo: Screenshot
US President Donald Trump on Sunday evening warned Iran that it will get “hit very hard” if the regime kills more protesters, as anti-government demonstrations enter a second week and the Iranian Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, is reportedly preparing an escape amid rising domestic unrest.
“We’re watching [the situation] very closely. If they start killing people like they have in the past, I think they’re going to get hit very hard by the United States,” Trump told reporters aboard Air Force One.
Trump’s latest threat comes after he warned last week that Washington will intervene if Iran “violently kills peaceful protesters.”
Sparked by a shopkeepers’ strike in Tehran last week, protests have swept the country, sparked by the soaring cost of living, a worsening economic crisis, and the rial — Iran’s currency — plunging to record lows in the wake of renewed United Nations sanctions.
For more than one week, anti-regime protests have shaken Iran, with violent clashes between demonstrators and security forces escalating amid intensifying domestic crises.
On Saturday, Khamenei accused “enemies of the Islamic Republic” of stoking unrest and warned that “rioters should be put in their place,” Iranian media reported.
Iran’s judiciary chief, Gholamhossein Mohseni Ejei, also said that while citizens have a right to protest, the government will show no leniency toward “rioters.”
According to the US-based Human Rights Activists in Iran (HRAI), protests have spread to at least 78 cities, with the regime killing 20 people — including three children — arresting nearly 1,000, and detaining more than 40 minors.
Amid a deepening economic crisis worsened by a 12-day June war with Israel and the US that struck several of Iran’s nuclear sites, the regime has ramped up its crackdown on protesters and opposition figures trying to maintain stability.
Media reports indicate that anti-riot forces — including the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC), the Basij militia, local police, and the army — have used violent tactics such as live fire, tear gas, and water cannons to suppress demonstrations.
In widely circulated social media videos, protesters can be heard chanting slogans such as “Death to the dictator” and “Khamenei will be toppled this year,” while also calling for Iranian President Masoud Pezeshkian to step down.
Videos sent to Iran International show security forces confronting protesting shopkeepers in central Tehran on Monday, with riot police deployed around the Grand Bazaar and tear gas used on Jomhouri Street near the Hafez underpass. pic.twitter.com/OyhQlyUJaN
— Iran International English (@IranIntl_En) December 29, 2025
Meanwhile, Khamenei reportedly has a backup plan to flee the country if his security forces fail to suppress protests or begin to desert, according to The Times.
“The ‘plan B’ is for Khamenei and his very close circle of associates and family, including his son and nominated heir apparent, Mojtaba,” an intelligence source told the British newspaper.
Khamenei would reportedly flee to Moscow, following the path of ousted Syrian President Bashar al-Assad in December 2024.
Uncategorized
Pro-Hamas Arson Attack Targets Home of Antisemitism Commissioner in Germany
An image of arson and vandalism near the home of Andreas Büttner, commissioner for combating antisemitism in the German state of Brandenburg. Photo: Screenshot
Investigators in Germany have started reviewing an arson attack on Sunday against the home of Andreas Büttner, commissioner for combating antisemitism in the state of Brandenburg, where assailants set fire to a shed at his property in Templin — a town located approximately 43 miles north of Berlin — and spray-painted an inverted red triangle, the symbol of support for the Islamist terrorist group Hamas.
“My thoughts are with Andreas Büttner and his family,” Israeli Ambassador to Germany Ron Prosor posted on X. “Knowing him as I do, after this attack he will only stand up even more resolutely against antisemitism. For the radical part of the ‘Palestine solidarity’ movement is not only antisemitic, but terrorist.”
Prosor explained the significance of the red triangle, writing, “Attacks on those who think differently and attempted murder: That is what the Hamas triangle stands for — in Gaza as in Brandenburg. And the hatred of Israel goes hand in hand with hatred of our democracy. The rule of law must smash these terrorist organizations — and indeed, before they strike again.”
The red triangle vandalism appeared “on the neighboring house’s door entrance,” according to Germany’s DW media.
The home of Germany’s antisemitism commissioner, Andreas Büttner, was set on fire overnight in a targeted attack.
His family was inside the house at the time.
This is the second attack against Büttner in the past 16 months. His car was previously vandalized with swastikas. This… pic.twitter.com/cAbFnMIwQ7
— Combat Antisemitism Movement (@CombatASemitism) January 5, 2026
“The symbol speaks a clear language. The red Hamas triangle is an internationally known sign of jihadist violence and antisemitic incitement,” Büttner said. “Anyone who uses such a thing wants to intimidate and glorify terror. This is not a protest, it is a threat.”
According to Büttner, his family was inside the house at the time of the arson, the second attack against him in the past 16 months. His car was previously vandalized with swastikas.
Büttner released a statement on X.
“This attack represents a massive escalation,” he wrote. “It is directed against me personally, against my family, and against my home. At the same time, it is an expression of hatred and intimidation. I will not be intimidated by this. Anyone who believes that they can achieve something through violence, arson, or threats is mistaken. Such acts do not lead to me becoming quieter or questioning my commitment — they strengthen me in what I do. I ask that you give us the necessary peace today and refrain from further inquiries at the present time.”
Brandenburg’s Prime Minister Dietmar Woidke also condemned the violence, saying that “violence against people or things is and remains absolutely unacceptable. The police have started the investigation, and I hope that the perpetrator or perpetrators will be caught quickly.”
Jochen Feilcke, chairman of the German-Israeli Society Berlin and Brandenburg, described the attack “as where Hamas’s terrorism was applied on a small scale, including the Hamas triangle, in order to ultimately intimidate all people who defend themselves against increasing antisemitism in Berlin and Brandenburg.”
“Especially the parties of the left camp have every reason to deal with it, because they tolerate this mood or still fuel it,” Feilcke told Tagesspiegel. “They are so jointly responsible for when debates turn into violence.””
The Jewish Virtual Library describes how the inverted red triangle symbol was originally used by the Nazis to designate political prisoners.
“According to Holocaust historians, this triangle was part of a dehumanizing classification system, where each prisoner was identified by different colored triangles depending on their ‘crime,’” writes Or Shaked, deputy director of the Jewish Virtual Library. “The red triangle identified political dissidents, including socialists and communists. After World War II, the survivors of Nazi persecution and their families reclaimed the red triangle as a symbol of resistance to fascism.”
Shaked explains the revival of the symbol in recent years, noting that following Hamas’s Oct. 7, 2023, massacre across southern Israel, the symbol began appearing in Hamas-produced propaganda, marking Israeli military targets. Its use spread to anti-Israel protests, particularly on college campuses and social media, where demonstrators use it to show solidarity with Palestinians.