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New Yorkers protesting Israel’s government say they’ll keep up the fight for the country’s democracy
(New York Jewish Week) – Hundreds of people gathered in front of the Israeli consulate in New York yesterday to stand in solidarity with Israelis who have been protesting Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s proposed changes to Israel’s judiciary, mere hours after a delay in the reforms was announced.
The protesters, who assembled on Second Avenue between 42nd and 43rd Streets, carried Israeli flags, sang Hebrew songs and chanted “Democracy will stand” in between music and speeches from local rabbis and political leaders.
The rally was held the day after Asaf Zamir, the Israeli Consul General in New York, resigned, following Netanyahu’s firing of Israel’s defense minister, Yoav Gallant. “The past 18 months as Israel’s Consul General in New York were fulfilling and rewarding, but following today’s developments, it is now time for me to join the fight for Israel’s future to ensure it remains a beacon of democracy and freedom in the world,” Zamir said in his resignation letter, which was posted to social media.
A majority of the crowd were Israelis living in New York, though cohorts from Park Slope’s Congregation Beth Elohim and supporters of T’ruah, The Rabbinic Call for Human Rights, also showed up.
For Israelis, even those who have immigrated to New York, the moment is a crucial one: Even though the legislation has been put on hold until May, it was important to many in the crowd to nonetheless make their voices heard. Attending protests in New York is an opportunity to both show solidarity with friends and family in Israel, some said, as well as impart a sense of urgency on American Jews.
The New York Jewish Week spoke to some of the protesters about what inspired them to protest Israel’s government in New York on a rainy Monday afternoon:
Israel and Hanana are a couple doing a housing exchange in New York. (Julia Gergely)
Israel and Hanana, who declined to provide their last names, are Israelis who have been living in New York for the last year doing a housing exchange with an American family. “We are concerned about what is happening,” Israel said. “It’s disturbing and the country is turning into a dictatorship.”
The couple has not hashed out their plan for when their housing exchange ends. Israel feels that he has to go back to his country. As for Hanana, “I don’t want to go back,” she said. “I can’t live in a dictatorship.” She would like to move to somewhere like Greece or Cyprus, she said.
Hanana carried a Hebrew sign that read “Our hope is not yet lost,” a line from the Israeli national anthem. Israel’s sign read “It’s good to protest for your country,” which is a play on the Hebrew phrase, “It’s good to die for your country,” allegedly said by a Zionist activist who died defending a Jewish settlement in Palestine in 1920.
Lior and Shiran, Israelis who moved to New York 18 months ago, hold signs protesting Prime Minister Netanyahu. (Julia Gergely)
Shiran and Lior, who declined to provide their last names, have been in the United States for a year and half. Last week, they visited friends in Israel but didn’t have time to attend protests, so it was important to them to make their voices heard in New York. “We are married, so for us this has been a really big deal,” Shiran said. At this point, they are planning to stay in New York for good, they said.
Susan Lax, the co-owner of an Israeli shoe company, holds a sign that reads “We must resist.” (Julia Gergely)
“I think that this is going to destroy Israel if we don’t come out in the streets, and my children and grandchildren will not have a country if I’m not out here,” said Susan Lax, who splits her time between the Upper West Side and Tel Aviv.
The co-owner of Naot, an Israeli shoe company, Lax feels the threat on a personal and professional level. “We are shoes of peace. It’s part of what we do,” she said.
If the reforms pass and things continue to deteriorate, “they could come and say you can’t have non-Jews working for you,” she said. “They can destroy everything that the generation above me fought for.”
American support is crucial to the cause, Lax said, whether by visiting Israel or by attending protests like these. “With no Israel, Jews have nothing in the world,” she said. “By not going there, we’re telling them ‘you’re on your own.’”
For Lax, the worst thing Israeli and American Jews could do is to give up hope, or to ease pressure on the government now that the legislation has been put on pause. She’s planning to return to Israel in a week. “Do not despair,” she said. She carried a sign reading, “We must resistance.”
Noa is frustrated with the hypocrisy she feels coming from American Jews who support Israel despite the government’s dangerous policies. (Julia Gergely)
“A lot of American Jews are saying that it’s important to have a Jewish country so they have a refuge if something happens,” said Noa, who declined to provide her last name, who left Israel in 2014 after the Gaza War.
“But it won’t be the case soon,” she said. “Unless they act, unless they stop funding the government that is very far-right, they won’t have a refuge. They won’t have a place to go to if something happens.”
Noa criticized what she sees as the hypocrisy of American Jews, many of whom support the Israeli government no matter what. “They need to understand that next time they go to visit Israel, their wives might have to wear a head cover and men and women might be separated in many places, and maybe gay people won’t be able to live there,” she said there, presenting a worst case scenario should the haredi Orthodox parties continue to wield power in a right-wing government. “They really need to think about it and act accordingly.”
The Israeli government’s rightward shift confirmed her decision to move away, Noa said. Nonetheless, the country will always be her home. “My heart is still there,” she said. “But I don’t really see a future. It’s either dictatorship or democracy.”
Noa Osheroff believes this is also a moment to fight for Palestinian Liberation, carrying a sign suggesting as much in Hebrew, English and Arabic. (Julia Gergely)
Noa Osheroff, an Israeli who has lived in New York for eight years, is using this moment to fight for democracy and representation for both Israelis and Palestinians.
“A group of friends and I have decided to collaborate around the protests and create a more radical group,” Osheroff said. “I always joined demonstrations and was vocal about my opinions, but I don’t work for any political organizations and I can’t even say I’m a big activist.”
In recent weeks, though, it’s become increasingly important to her to make sure that Palestinian liberation is included in the call for democracy, as well as to call out the United States government for enabling Netanyahu’s policies. The sign she carried, “From the river the sea — democracy for all,” repurposes a slogan often used by the pro-Palestinian movement to call for a single democratic state — neither Jewish nor Palestinian — in what is currently Israel and the territories. “The protests are so Zionist,” she said. “It kind of bothered me, especially in the U.S., because the U.S. funds a lot of what’s going on in the settlements. People don’t necessarily see the connection, but what’s happening now is in part a result of the occupation.”
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The post New Yorkers protesting Israel’s government say they’ll keep up the fight for the country’s democracy appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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Could dementia be the key to saving endangered Jewish languages?

One day, when Sabrina Hakim was out for a walk with her father, he started speaking a language she could not understand.
Sabrina figured he must be speaking Judeo-Kashi, a variety of Judeo-Iranian. Her father spoke this language as a child in the Iranian city of Kashan before he moved to the capital, Tehran. Since Jewish people haven’t lived in Kashan in decades, at least not in large numbers, the language “faces possible extinction,” according to Rutgers University linguist Habib Borjian.
Sabrina felt that in order to best care for her father, she had to learn this language. “I would just ask him questions, like, how do you say ‘Are you hungry?’ How do you say ‘I’m tired?’” she told me. “I was asking questions about words or phrases that we could use in his care.”

As time went by, her interest in Kashi evolved from purely practical to cultural. She started scrawling notes on the backs of receipts, and now, Sabrina says she has some 200 pages of notes from conversations with her dad, and she is helping to create a dictionary of the language.
Sabrina’s father, who died in February, is one example of someone whose dementia helped his descendants work with professional linguists to preserve a rare Jewish language. Since dementia affects shorter-term memory more than longer-term memory, it’s not unusual for multilingual people with dementia to begin speaking the language they learned first. As a 2009 study put it, “the language with the best recovery may be the earliest acquired language, the language of greater use, or the language spoken in the patient’s environment.”
Sarah Bunin Benor, a linguist and the director of the Jewish Language Project, said that, while she has long been aware of this phenomenon, she has noticed it most recently with speakers of Judeo-Iranian languages. Historically speaking, that makes sense: In the mid-20th century, when people who are now elderly were children or young adults, many Jews from small cities all across Iran moved to Tehran, oftentimes to avoid antisemitism or enhance economic opportunities.
In Tehran, these people might have spoken their hometown language with their families, but standard Farsi with pretty much everyone else. They had also studied Torah and knew some Hebrew. But even as their brains held room for three languages — and later, when they fled Iran altogether, for yet a fourth language in the country where they wound up — those hometown languages remained deeply rooted in their minds.
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Ashton, an 18-year-old from Great Neck, New York, had always been close with his grandmother, Mommy Po-Po, who began showing signs of dementia more than a year ago. (Ashton requested to be identified only by his first name so as to keep the details of his grandmother’s condition private)
Mommy Po-Po was born around 1939 in the small Iranian city of Tuyserkan in Hamadan province. Though she later moved to Tehran, she continued speaking Judeo-Tuyserkani, a language Borjian told me is at even greater risk of extinction than Judeo-Kashi.
Ashton’s aunt and Mommy Po-Po’s youngest child, Dina, told me that her mother usually speaks Judeo-Tuyserkani when she’s confused. In the last few months, Dina said, “whenever she talks to me, she feels that we live still in Tuyserkan, and I’m one of her sisters.”
Dina thinks memories of Tuyserkan comfort her mother. “I think she likes to go back there, when everything is OK, when my father was alive, when her father was alive, when she had her mother next to her,” she said. “I think she feels warmer when she thinks about back then.”
Around the same time that his grandmother’s illness was worsening, Ashton got in touch with Borjian, who was studying Judeo-Tuyserkani but didn’t know anyone who actually spoke it. “He gave me a huge list of words, and he said please translate all these” into Tuyserkani, Ashton said. He worked with his great-aunts, who still live in Iran, to get the words translated.
Now, Ashton, like Sabrina, is creating a dictionary. He has also started recording interviews with Mommy Po-Po, which he hopes to use in a documentary. Ashton “speaks better than me in Farsi and Tuyserkani,” Dina said.
Sabrina has also gotten praise from her family about her new language skills.
At first, when she started speaking Kashi with him, he might respond in Farsi, “een chert-o-perta chiye?” What’s all this gibberish? “My accent was so bad,” Sabrina said. But as time went by, her Kashi became more and more comprehensible. “Maybe about a month before he passed, one time I was saying something, and he said, ‘where did you learn to speak Kashi? You’ve never been to Kashan.’”
Of course, he’s the one who taught it to her.
The post Could dementia be the key to saving endangered Jewish languages? appeared first on The Forward.
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I know exactly why leftists aren’t celebrating this ceasefire
“We can’t hear you, Zohran,” read one New York Post headline this week: “Pro-Hamas crowd goes quiet on Trump’s Gaza peace deal.”
“It seems awfully curious that the people who have made Gazans a central political cause do not seem at all relieved that there’s at least a temporary cessation of violence…Why aren’t there widespread celebrations across Western cities and college campuses today?” the article asked.
The Post wasn’t alone in voicing that question. A spokesperson for the Republican Jewish Coalition posted on X that “The silence from the ‘ceasefire now’ crowd is shameful and deafening.” Others went so far as to imply that the protesters had been lying and never actually wanted a ceasefire — because what they really wanted wasn’t freedom and security for Palestinians, but the ability to blame Israel. If pro-Palestinian voices had really wanted a ceasefire, the thinking went, they would be celebrating.
I read these various posts and articles and thought of Rania Abu Anza.
I have thought of her every day since I first read her story in early March 2024. Anza spent a decade trying to have a child through in vitro fertilization. When her twins, a boy and a girl, were five months old, an Israeli strike killed them. It also killed her husband and 11 other members of her family.
A year and a half later, a ceasefire cannot bring her children, her husband, or her 11 family members back. They were killed. They will stay dead. What is there to celebrate?
This does not mean that the ceasefire is not welcome, or that it is not a relief. On the contrary: It is both. Of course it’s a relief that the families of hostages don’t need to live one more day in torment and anguish. Of course it’s a relief that more bombs will not fall on Gaza.
But celebration implies, to me anyway, that this is a positive without caveats. And in this situation, there are so many caveats.
The families of the surviving hostages will still have spent years apart from their loved ones, in no small part because their own government did not treat the hostages’ return as the single highest priority. The families of those hostages who were killed in the war will never again sit down to dinner with their loved ones, who could have been saved. And it is difficult to fathom what’s been taken from the hostages themselves: time spent out exploring the world, or with family and friends, or at home doing nothing much at all but sitting safely in quiet contemplation.
And a ceasefire alone will not heal Israeli society, or return trust to the people in their government. It will not fix some of the deep societal problems this war uncovered. A Chatham House report this August found that, “Israeli television ignores the suffering of Palestinians in Gaza, while the rhetoric is often aggressive. Critical voices, from inside Israel or abroad, are attacked or silenced.” If the country is ever going to find its way back from Oct. 7 and this war, a ceasefire is a necessary precondition, but not a route in and of itself.
In Gaza, Palestinian health authorities have said that about 67,000 people — not distinguishing between combatants and civilians — have been killed by Israel’s campaign in response to Oct. 7. A full third of those killed were under the age of 18. The ceasefire cannot bring those children back to life.
It cannot turn back time and make it such that Israel admitted more than minimal aid to the embattled strip. It will not undo the damage that has been done to the people of Gaza who were denied enough to eat and drink and proper medical care. It will not give children back their parents, or parents back their children. It will not heal the disabled, or make it so that they were never wounded.
It will not change that all of this happened with the backing of the United States government. (This is to say nothing of the West Bank, which has seen a dramatic expansion of Israeli settlements and escalation of settler violence over the course of the war). And as American Jewish groups put out statements cheering the ceasefire, we should also remember that it does not reverse the reality that too many American Jews were cheerleaders for all this death.
Protesters calling for a ceasefire have regularly been denounced as hateful toward Jews or callous toward the plight of Israelis; American Jews who called for one were called somehow un-Jewish. (Yes, some pro-Palestinian protesters also shared hate toward Jews; the much greater majority did not.) The charge of antisemitism — toward those calling for a ceasefire, those calling for a free Palestine, and those who called attention to Israel’s abuses during this war — was used to silence criticism of Israel and of U.S. foreign policy. Some American Jews went so far as to call for the deportation of students protesting the war.
A ceasefire doesn’t change any of that. It can’t.
I have hopes for this ceasefire. At best, it will allow people — Israelis and Palestinians and, yes, diaspora Jews — to chart a new, better course going forward. But it almost certainly will not do that if we delude ourselves into thinking of this as a victory or a kind of tabula rasa, as though the lives lost and hate spewed are all behind us, forgotten, atoned for. The last two years will never not have happened. What happens next depends on all of us fully appreciating that.
The post I know exactly why leftists aren’t celebrating this ceasefire appeared first on The Forward.
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University of Sydney Suspends Staff Member After Viral Video Shows Verbal Assault on Jewish Students During Sukkot

University of Sydney staff member verbally assaulting Jewish students during a Sukkot celebration on campus. Photo: Screenshot
The University of Sydney has suspended a staff member after a viral video showed her verbally assaulting Jewish students and teachers during an on-campus holiday celebration, sparking public outrage over one of Australia’s latest antisemitic incidents.
In a video widely circulated on social media, a university staff member — reportedly of Palestinian Arab background — is seen approaching a group of Jewish students and teachers during a campus holiday celebration, shouting antisemitic insults at them.
The incident has sparked public condemnation and renewed calls for stronger action against rising antisemitism on college campuses, as the local Jewish community faces an increasingly hostile climate and a surge in targeted attacks across the country.
During a Sukkot celebration organized by the Australian Union of Jewish Students (AUJS) on campus, attendees — including students, teachers, and the university’s rabbi — were approached by a woman who asked them, “Are you Zionists?” while they gathered to participate in the annual Jewish festival.
“A Zionist is the lowest form of rubbish. Zionists are the most disgusting thing that has ever walked this earth,” the university staff member can be heard saying.
She then identifies as an “Indigenous Palestinian” and continues hurling antisemitic insults at the group, calling them “child killers.”
“You are a filthy Zionist,” she said. “You colonized us.”
This appalling video shows a Jewish academic and Jewish students at the University of Sydney being harassed by someone apparently of palestinian Arab extraction. The students were celebrating a Sukkot event organized by @AUJS, and there were no Israeli flags nor even hostage… pic.twitter.com/u7LJ2OxUCZ
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David Lange (@Israellycool) October 9, 2025
University security personnel tried to intervene as the incident escalated, but the staff member refused to leave and continued filming the group.
The woman is then seen in the video pointing at the group and shouting to a security officer: “Look at this rubbish, look at these parasites.”
University of Sydney Vice-Chancellor Mark Scott announced that the staff member had been suspended pending further investigation and offered a personal apology to the affected Jewish students and staff.
“We’re disturbed and appalled by the vision that depicts verbal abuse and harassment on campus,” Scott said in a statement. “Such conduct is utterly unacceptable, and we are taking immediate action under our codes of conduct, including suspending a staff member involved pending further assessment.”
“Hate speech, antisemitism, and verbal harassment have no place on campus, online, or in our wider community,” he continued. “We deeply apologize to any staff, students, or visitors who are distressed or impacted by this incident in any way.”
University officials referred the incident to New South Wales Police, who have opened an investigation into the matter.
The Executive Council of Australian Jewry (ECAJ) strongly condemned the incident, calling for swift action and prompt intervention by the authorities.
“This is the real face of antisemitism in Australia today. It hides behind an anti-Zionist mask,” the statement read. “This woman aimed to intimidate, threaten, offend, and humiliate a group of Jewish students just because they were Jewish.”
Antisemitism spiked to record levels in Australia — especially in Sydney and Melbourne, which are home to some 85 percent of the country’s Jewish population — following the Hamas-led invasion of and massacre across southern Israel on Oct. 7, 2023.
According to a report from ECAJ, the country’s Jewish community experienced over 2,000 antisemitic incidents between October 2023 and September 2024, a significant increase from 495 in the prior 12 months.
The number of antisemitic physical assaults in Australia rose from 11 in 2023 to 65 in 2024. The level of antisemitism for the past year was six times the average of the preceding 10 years.
Since the Oct. 7 atrocities, the local Jewish community has faced a wave of targeted attacks, with several Jewish sites across Australia subjected to vandalism and even arson amid an increasingly hostile climate.