Connect with us

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.

Continue Reading

Uncategorized

Viktor Orbán may fall. Netanyahu should be next

At first glance, Hungary may seem like a small central European country with limited relevance to Israel. But political trends can cross borders, and a shift in one society might herald something broader.

The defeat that polls are predicting for Prime Minister Viktor Orbán, a towering icon of the global populist right, could spell trouble for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu as well.

For 16 years, Orbán has been widely seen as the most successful architect — indeed the prophet — of illiberal democracy, devising a system that preserves elections but systematically tilts the playing field, turning a country’s leader into a seemingly elected authoritarian.

Since returning to power in 2010 — like Netanyahu, Orbán also served a term starting in the 1990s — Orbán’s party, Fidesz, has rewritten constitutional rules, weakened the judiciary, neutered institutional checks, cultivated a loyal media ecosystem, and fused political power with economic patronage.

Orbán has also pumped out an obsessive narrative whereby the Hungarian nation is in danger from progressives, cosmopolitan Europeans, migrants and Muslims — dangers that, naturally, only Orbán can see clearly and fight well. The meta-narrative, bizarre in currently peaceful Europe, is one of constant crisis, of nerves ever on edge.

And it has worked wonders, yielding something that looks like democracy while functioning as autocracy.

Until now.

If Orbán loses this weekend’s election, his defeat will send a message across the world and particularly to Israel, where Netanyahu has carefully followed his model.

Populist systems thrive on polarization. They convert politics into a series of existential battles — identity, culture, survival. In such an environment, challengers who attempt to outbid the populist in ideological intensity often fail. They reinforce the terrain on which the incumbent is strongest.

Orbán’s defeat would show that what can prove more effective is something quieter: a shift away from ideological maximalism toward questions of competence, propriety and everyday governance.

An almost-perfect system

When perfected, the opposition in the kind of system Orbán pioneered has an almost impossible time returning to power. Admirers around the world have looked to Hungary not for its economic model or foreign policy, but for a blueprint for how a modern elected leader can entrench himself so deeply that removal through the ballot box becomes nearly impossible.

For years, Orbán’s system appeared invincible. He was reelected in 2014, 2018, and even in 2022, amid inflation and economic strain, and facing a rare unified opposition. He succeeded in amplifying a narrow majority in the last election into almost a two-thirds majority in parliament through districting and electoral “reforms” which he had put in place during his previous terms.

The lesson drawn by many observers — supporters and critics alike — was that once entrenched, such leaders do not lose, since the system becomes self-reinforcing. But now that certainty has begun to fray.

Israelis will recognize the contours of that story.

Over the past decade or so, as Netanyahu began to face serious legal trouble that has since landed him in court on bribery and other charges, his mania for holding on to power went into overdrive — and he adopted the Orbán playbook with precision.

Israelis have witnessed sustained attacks on the judiciary; efforts to restructure the balance of power; the delegitimization of legal and media institutions; and a politics increasingly organized around permanent cultural and existential conflict. During the last vote, in 2022, Netanyahu largely hid his intention to drag the country in this direction; should he win again, this will be interpreted as a mandate. The “Orbánization” will go into overdrive.

Israel has not yet become Hungary: its institutions remain more pluralistic, its media more combative, its political system more fragmented. But the direction of travel is clear.

How the system fails

In early 2024, a controversial Orbán-engineered presidential pardon — linked to a figure associated with a child abuse case — punctured his carefully cultivated image of moral authority and care for traditional values. It was simply, for many, too much.

Into that breach stepped challenger Peter Magyar, who is not a traditional opposition figure, which is a key point. Magyar comes not from Hungary’s fragmented liberal camp, but rather from within Orbán’s own orbit. A former insider of Orbán’s Fidesz party, Magyar understands the machinery. His political movement, the Tisza Party, rose with remarkable speed, transforming into a credible electoral force within months. It currently has a growing lead in the polls.

Perhaps the most important aspect of Magyar’s rise is how he has campaigned. Previous Hungarian opposition efforts focused heavily on abstract democratic principles, including rule of law, institutional checks and media freedom. These are vital issues. But against Orbán’s emotionally charged narratives or sovereignty and national survival, they failed to mobilize a broad electorate.

Magyar instead has traveled extensively, visiting hundreds of towns and villages, engaging with practical grievances: failing public services, rising costs and bureaucratic dysfunction. The implication is that Orbán has hubristically lost touch. Magyar’s message has been almost technocratic in tone: He wants, he says, to make the state function again for ordinary citizens with regular concerns.

If Orbán were to lose, it would be, in effect, because Magyar is a centrist with practical, citizen-focused ideas — sidestepping entirely the identity issues that Orbán peddles.

The lesson for Israel

Magyar cannot easily be dismissed as alien or threatening by Orbán’s base. For Israelis contemplating a post-Netanyahu future, this is instructive.

For years, one of Netanyahu’s greatest political strengths has been his ability to frame opponents as fundamentally “other” — as disconnected from national priorities, or as representatives of a different, even suspect, ideological camp. A challenger who reframes the conversation — toward competence, integrity and the basic functioning of the state — may find a different kind of opening.

Hungary and Israel are not the same; the dangers Netanyahu weaponizes politically are vastly more acute. But he and Orbán represent something that has been widespread around the world: a rebellion against the establishment, and a message that says an elected government can do close to anything it wants in the name of “the people.”

It is a proposition that exists at the most vulgar democratic baseline: that of majority rule. It cares little for the niceties of liberal democracy: checks and balances, rule of law, minority rights, equality under the law, guaranteed protections and individual freedoms.

Orbán’s genius, eagerly embraced and copied by Netanyahu, has been to convince enough people that majority rule is basically all that matters. Majority rule is critical when one is attacking the establishment, the elites, the intellectuals, the journalists, the professors, the experts, and the judges who preside at one’s trial.

If Orbán loses on Sunday, it could bode ill for Netanyahu in the Israeli election that must be held by October, and good for a world that desperately needs to return to a more nuanced understanding of how government is supposed to work. It would suggest that the fever that sustains Orbán and Netanyahu alike has started to break.

The post Viktor Orbán may fall. Netanyahu should be next appeared first on The Forward.

Continue Reading

Uncategorized

Hungary is poised to topple an authoritarian leader. American Jews have something to learn

An aspiring authoritarian, who has spent more than a decade shaping his country through a political project of popularist grievance and personal enrichment, may soon meet his electoral end.

That elected leader is not President Donald Trump, but Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán, who has ruled Hungary consecutively since 2010 (and who previously served as prime minister between 1998 and 2002). Hungarians will go to the polls on April 12, and Orbán’s Fidesz party is polling well behind the conservative, pro-European Tisza. That Trump, who is closely allied with Orbán, this week dispatched Vice President JD Vance to Budapest to campaign for Orbán may not be enough. (While there, Vance baselessly claimed EU interference in Hungary’s elections, turning back to the same old Trump playbook.)

There is much that Americans can learn from the Hungarian experience of years spent under the governance of someone accused of dismantling rule of law, a person whose inner circle has grown rich during his time in office. But American Jews in particular should pay attention. Because Orbán’s administration has used antisemitism as a political tool throughout his time in power, and is desperately turning to this hatred once again on its way, possibly, out the electoral door.

Examining the different purposes for which Orbán has employed antisemitism is instructive. The essential lesson: Antisemitism deployed by powerful people is often an attempt to evade accountability for their own bad actions.

The Orbán administration has tried to rewrite history so as to paint Hungary as a perpetual victim or victor — never a country responsible for misdeeds like, say, allying with Nazi Germany prior to being occupied by it. Orbán, like other politicians interested in historical revisionism, has tried to make adherence to his specific retelling of Hungarian history synonymous with being a true Hungarian. Anyone who challenges his vision is, in it, an enemy of the state.

For no one has that been more true than Hungarian-born Jewish billionaire philanthropist George Soros. In past elections, Orbán has inflated Soros to the status of a political adversary, campaigning against a spectral version of him instead of his actual political opponents. This approach, rife with antisemitic dog whistles, has been alarmingly effective.

“We are fighting an enemy that is different from us. Not open, but hiding; not straightforward but crafty; not honest but base; not national but international; does not believe in working but speculates with money; does not have its own homeland but feels it owns the whole world,” he said of Soros in the 2018 campaign, invoking any number of longstanding antisemitic tropes.

When Orbán’s authoritarian efforts extended to cracking down on liberal institutions and civil society, he turned again to antisemitism in the form of Soros conspiracy theories.

Under attack by Orbán, Central European University, the university that Soros founded, has mostly been pushed out of its original home of Budapest. When the Hungarian government passed legislation to criminalize helping those who wanted to claim asylum in the country, it was called “Stop Soros” legislation. NGOs in Hungary have long been smeared for receiving money from Soros’ Open Society Foundations, accused of being proxies through which Soros is “targeting” Hungary.

Recently, Orbán has pivoted, making Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy the new scapegoat of his antisemitic conspiracy theories.

He has charged that support for Ukraine is expensive and even dangerous, and pushed the idea that Orbán and Fidesz are all that prevents such support from leading Hungary to disaster. Orbán and Fidesz have erected billboards showing Zelenskyy smirking with an outstretched hand, in a pose reminiscent of the antisemitic “happy merchant” meme. Perhaps most tellingly and menacingly, Fidesz has put up posters with Zelenskyy’s face, blazoned with nearly the same words that, almost a decade ago, accompanied campaign posters with Soros’s visage on them: “Let’s not let Zelenskyy have the last laugh.”

As Hungarians are asking what, exactly, the last decade and a half of autocracy have accomplished for them, their governing party appears to be suggesting that it is the only thing standing between them and the machinations of a nefarious Jew. Antisemitism can be many things, but in Hungary, again and again, it has been an attempt to trick citizens out of asking what good Orbán’s government has done for them.

This playbook has clear resonances in that deployed by Trump.

When threatened, Trump and his allies repeatedly turn to blaming Soros. They have used the idea of Soros as a sort of universal bogeyman to try to explain away Trump’s felony charges and to justify violence against citizens protesting ICE. The Department of Justice has tried to find ways to push for prosecutions of Soros and his allies, on far-fetched charges possibly including material support of terrorism.

What Orbán and Trump have both bet on is that dog whistling about all-powerful Jews will distract enough voters from noticing while they help themselves to their country’s rights and riches. If Orbán is defeated on Sunday, his loss will send an essential message to Americans: that strategy can only sustain a leader for so long.

Flailing about and sowing the seeds of antisemitic conspiracies cannot change the stubborn fact that neither Soros nor Zelenskyy is in charge in Hungary: Orbán is. Hungarians seem to see, now, that all that talk about Soros didn’t make their lives any better. Neither will going after Zelenskyy.

We can hope Hungarians remember that as they go to the polls. We, American Jews, should remind others, and ourselves, of it here, too. We often focus on trying to communicate that antisemitism is hateful and unfair toward American Jews. Perhaps, in addition, we should try to point out that Trump’s antisemitism, like Orbán’s, is not only hateful, but a hateful deflection.

The post Hungary is poised to topple an authoritarian leader. American Jews have something to learn appeared first on The Forward.

Continue Reading

Uncategorized

Israel Expels Spain From US-Backed Gaza Coordination Center as Diplomatic Rift Deepens

Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sanchez speaks during a press conference after attending a special summit of European Union leaders to discuss transatlantic relations, in Brussels, Belgium, Jan. 23, 2026. Photo: REUTERS/Yves Herman

Israel has expelled Spain from the United States’ Civil-Military Coordination Center (CMCC) in Kiryat Gat, a hub established to coordinate humanitarian operations in the Gaza Strip, marking a sharp escalation in an already deteriorating diplomatic rift between the two countries.

On Friday, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu announced Spain’s expulsion from the CMCC, framing the move as a response to Madrid’s increasingly anti-Israel stance and what he described as continued hostility toward the Jewish state.

“Spain has defamed our heroes, the soldiers of the [Israel Defense Forces], the soldiers of the most moral army in the world,” Netanyahu said during a press conference. “Anyone who attacks the State of Israel instead of the terrorist regimes … will not be our partner in the future of the region.” 

“I am not willing to tolerate this hypocrisy and this hostility,” the Israeli leader continued. “I do not intend to allow any country to wage a diplomatic war against us without paying an immediate price for it.”

In a press release, Israeli Foreign Minister Gideon Saar confirmed that the United States had been informed ahead of time, adding that the decision followed Spain’s serious harm to the interests of both Jerusalem and Washington.

The Spanish government has also been informed of the decision, though it has yet to issue any public statement or official response.

“Spain’s obsessive anti-Israel bias under [Prime Minister Pedro Sanchez]’s leadership is so egregious that it has lost all capability to serve a constructive role in implementing US President Donald Trump’s peace plan and the center operating under it,” the top Israeli diplomat wrote in a post on X. 

Established in October 2025 as part of US Central Command, the CMCC was set up to coordinate and manage the flow of humanitarian, logistical, and security assistance from the international community into Gaza under Trump’s peace plan for the enclave.

Since the start of the war in Gaza, and increasingly amid the war with Iran and broader regional escalation, Spain has launched a fierce anti-Israel campaign aimed at undermining and isolating the Jewish state on the international stage.

Earlier this week, Sánchez publicly condemned Israeli strikes in Lebanon and the widening regional escalation tied to the Iran conflict, renewing calls for the European Union to suspend its association agreement with Israel and urging an end to “impunity for [Israel’s] criminal actions.”

The Spanish leader also accused Netanyahu of breaching basic humanitarian norms, saying his “contempt for life and international law is intolerable.”

Spanish Foreign Minister José Manuel Albares has also publicly condemned Israel’s military campaign, describing the conflict as “the greatest assault on the civilization built upon the humanist ideals of reason, peace, understanding, and universal law over the abuse of power, brute force, and arbitrariness.”

In a phone call with his Spanish counterpart on Friday, Iranian Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi praised Spain’s “principled and honorable” stance on what he called “US-Israeli aggression against Iran,” urging countries to take a firmer stand against what he described as war crimes.

“Spain’s valuable stances in defending international law and human values ​​have been noted and praised by the Iranian nation and the international community, and will never be forgotten,” the top Iranian diplomat said. 

Even though Spain welcomed the recently announced US–Iran ceasefire, Albares said, “Madrid will not applaud those who set the world on fire just because they show up with a bucket to put out that fire.”

As part of its broader anti-Israel campaign, Spain had recently closed its airspace to aircraft involved in what officials described as a “reckless and illegal confrontation” – another move welcomed by Iran’s Islamist government.

In one of its most controversial recent moves, Madrid also announced this weej the reopening of its embassy in Tehran.

According to data from Spain’s Ministry of Trade reported by Servimedia, the Spanish government exported more than €1.3 million worth of dual-use materials to Iran in 2024 and the first half of 2025, including explosive components, laboratory reagents, and specialized control software.

Continue Reading

Copyright © 2017 - 2023 Jewish Post & News