Former Israeli Ambassador to the US Ron Dermer attends a special session of the Knesset, Israel’s parliament, to approve and swear in a new right-wing government, in Jerusalem, Dec. 29, 2022. Photo: REUTERS/Amir Cohen/Pool

Israel’s Strategic Affairs Minister Ron Dermer, who played a leading role in negotiations during the Gaza war and was a close confidant of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, resigned on Tuesday.

His departure follows weeks of speculation in Israeli media and marks the end of a tenure that began in late 2022, when he was tapped for the post after years as Israel’s ambassador to Washington.

“I am writing to inform you of my decision to end my position as minister for strategic affairs,” Dermer wrote in a two-page letter to Netanyahu released to the media.

There was no immediate response to a request for comment from the prime minister‘s office.

The US-born Dermer wrote that when he became minister of strategic affairs in December 2022, he promised his family he would serve for no more than two years and twice he extended it with their blessing.

He wrote the first time was to work with Netanyahu to remove the existential threat of Iran’s military nuclear capability in June and the second was to negotiate a ceasefire in Gaza in October and the return of Israel’s hostages held in Gaza.

“What I am to expect in the future I don’t know but one thing I know for sure: In all that I will do, I will continue to do my part to secure the future of the Jewish people,” he wrote.

Dermer was one of Netanyahu’s most trusted advisers, negotiating the October ceasefire with both the Trump administration and Arab countries.

Dermer was ambassador to Washington from 2013-2021. His service there overlapped with Republican President Donald Trump’s first term from 2017-2021.

For Negin Nader Bazrafkan, Yiddish lessons have been an unexpected perk of moving into her Upper West Side apartment.

Her roommate — and unofficial Yiddish teacher — is 96-year-old Rebecca Schull, a retired actress best known for her roles as Fay Cochran on the sitcom Wings and as protagonist Mike Ross’ grandmother on Suits. From Schull, Bazrafkan has learned words like chutzpah, schmuck, simcha, klutz, schmutz, and faynshmeker. Her favorite is tuches, slang for buttocks, a word that makes them both laugh and their cheeks flush.

The unlikely roommates’ 61-year age gap might raise eyebrows on its own. But for some of Bazrafkan’s friends, it’s the fact that she’s Muslim and Schull is Jewish that stands out most.

“A lot of people ask me, ‘Isn’t it hard, after October 7, to live with a Jewish person with Israeli roots?’” she said. “And I tell them, ‘No, it’s really not hard at all.’”

In fact, Bazrafkan had hoped to live with an older Jewish woman. During the Iran-Iraq War in the 1980s, her parents fled Shiraz, Iran — a city once home to a significant Jewish community — and resettled in Denmark, where she grew up. Her mother often reminisced about her childhood Jewish friends and encouraged her daughter to connect with people from different backgrounds.

So when Bazrafkan moved to New York City in January 2023, she made it a priority to experience Jewish culture firsthand. While pursuing a Master of Laws at Fordham University, she worked at both the American Jewish Committee and Fordham’s Center for Jewish Studies; often, she was the only Muslim in the room.

“I could stay in my own lane. I could have Muslim friends, European friends and all of that, but I already have that,” she said.

About two years ago, Bazrafkan posted online that she was looking for a room on the Upper West Side, preferably with an older Jewish roommate. The New York Foundation for Senior Citizens matched her with Schull, who had a spare bedroom in her two-bedroom apartment with views of the Hudson River.

It was also an ideal fit for Schull, who didn’t want to live alone after her husband, Gene, died in 2008.

The two women clicked immediately.

“It’s like destiny,” Bazrafkan said. “That’s what I felt.”

Schull and Bazrafkan welcomed me into their apartment where they served baklava, toast, jam and assorted fruit — in the same living room, Schull noted, where her grandson had his bris. “This apartment has a lot of history,” Schull said.

The two quickly outgrew the label of roommates, forming a bond they describe more like that of an adoptive mother and daughter. They walk together in nearby Straus Park and bond over old movies like Ninotchka, a 1939 romantic comedy about a Soviet diplomat played by Greta Garbo who is sent to Paris. Bazrafkan cooks for Schull and files her fan mail; in exchange, Schull braids Bazrafkan’s waist-length ombré hair.

“It’s nice to be with somebody who’s not on their phone, watching reels, or worrying about a Tinder date,” Bazrafkan said. “People nowadays — they don’t even read a book anymore!”

Schull’s daughter Elly Meeks also described Bazrafkan as a member of the family.

“She has a joie de vivre [joy for living], an openness, an incredible caring, compassionate nature,” Meeks said. “It’s beyond a blessing.”

Bazrafkan has also brought touches of Persian Jewish culture, teaching Schull about Queen Esther’s Persian roots and cooking gondi — a Persian Jewish chicken soup with chickpea flour dumplings — for a Passover Seder they hosted last spring.

“We do it by the book,” Bazrafkan said.

“Well, sort of,” Schull said and laughed. “We took a stab at the Haggadah.”

Bazrafkan’s curiosity about Jewish heritage extends to Israel. Schull told her about her family’s deep commitment to Zionism: Her mother grew up in what was then Palestine, and her father was the first executive director of what’s now the American Technion Society — a nonprofit that fundraises for an Israeli university and was co-founded by Albert Einstein, whose signed portrait hangs in Schull’s apartment.

A small Israeli flag sits on a cabinet, and the walls are lined with paintings of Jerusalem by the Israeli artist Nachum Gutman.

None of that bothers Bazrafkan, who said she believes deeply in coexistence and is holding out hope for a two-state solution. Living with Schull, she said, has helped her process the Israel-Hamas war and tensions surrounding the New York City mayoral election — because it keeps her from growing overly pessimistic.

“In these times of war, there’s something healing about it,” Bazrafkan said. “I think I would feel worse if I didn’t live with Rebecca.”

If a pair of roommates can bridge decades and faiths, she added, perhaps it’s a small sign of hope for the world.

The post A young Muslim woman moved in with a 96-year-old Jewish actress – and it was bashert appeared first on The Forward.

Tucker Carlson speaks at Indiana University in Bloomington, Indiana, Oct. 21, 2025. Photo: Gage Skidmore/ZUMA Press Wire via Reuters Connect

There is a new digital gospel sweeping the American landscape. It preaches grievance, faith, and freedom in equal measures. Its apostles include the likes of Tucker Carlson, Candace Owens, Nick Fuentes, and a proliferating class of imitators.

Freed from the guardrails of editors and regulators, they feed off of mob fury and algorithmic applause. They use their pulpits to preach of national decay, all while wrapping themselves in the vestments of Christian renewal.

They all claim to be “just asking questions,” but by some perverse irony, the answer is always the same. Behind every corruption, every lost ideal, and every “establishment,” they inevitably will find the familiar silhouette of the Jew.

They have updated the tropes with terms like globalists, neo-cons, and Christian Zionists, but the pogrom-era rhetoric remains familiar. This is not theological antisemitism; this is a 21st-century cultural version, an aesthetic antisemitism of mood, meme, and insinuation. Utilizing borrowed piety, they baptize resentment and harvest rage and indignation.

This is their crusade, and they have corrupted a religious thematic to lend them divine coverage. “The truth shall set you free,” is their battle cry, and “Christ is King” has become their slogan of defiance, not devotion.

As my grandmother was fond of saying, “there is nothing new under the sun.” This is not a new gospel, only a recycled heresy. We have a recent and more successful American epoch to which we can look to for perspective. In fact, Tucker and his minions merely plagiarized the playbook of an American Catholic priest just over a century ago known as Father Coughlin.

Charles Coughlin began in Detroit as a preacher of hope — and ended up as one of the most prolific disseminators of antisemitism in American history. Armed with his frock and a national radio program, Coughlin delivered his own racist brand of Christian virtue that was populism with a halo.

He broadcast his divinely inspired grievances, to an audience estimated at its height of up to 40 million people, or roughly one-third of the American population. His diatribes were consistent in that they all revolved around a theme of Jewish conspiracy.

In his telling, Franklin Roosevelt, the New Deal, Wall Street, unions, the press, were all controlled and manipulated by the Jews.

When he launched his radio show, it was moralistic but not sanctimonious; he was charismatic, warm, and conversational.

Everything changed with the Great Depression — when he transitioned from theological to economic populism, less priest, and more crusader. As his popularity soared, his myopic focus on the Jewish population increased accordingly.

As a man who saw things in cosmic good and evil, God versus corruption, he became a demagogue railing against the banks and the “money changers.”

He was vocally defending Hitler, supporting fascism, and reprinting the “Elders of Zion” and other Nazi propaganda. This activity was accompanied by his incessant attacks on the ubiquitous Jew that he saw in every shadow of every corner.

Rabbi Jonathan Sachs once said, “More than hate destroys the hated, it destroys the hater.” In the case of Father Coughlin, his malady had taken him past the point of no return, and his passion had graduated from engaging to psychosis.

The Vatican decided Coughlin was a liability and pulled the plug by instructing him to cease broadcasting. Roosevelt’s government and the FCC decided that the good father had crossed the Rubicon and had no choice but to take him down. He was unceremoniously deprived of mail and radio privileges.

Father Coughlin went back to quiet pastoring for another few decades, and passed away in ignominy in 1979.

Today’s pretenders to Coughlin’s throne are less talented, but they are equally venomous and divisive. We can no longer rely on the church and government to stymie the efforts of those who wish to divide us.

Anyone with a Wi-Fi connection can mine the depths of human debasement and moral despair. Radio towers are no longer the barrier to entry, all that is required today is a grievance and a trending podcast.

In a way, this makes the likes of Carlson, Owens, and Fuentes more dangerous — because no one will be coming to stop them. It will be solely up to the American people to accept or reject what they are selling.

Coughlin’s America had the courage to silence him, but ours has provided a microphone and an audience. America today rightfully does not believe in guardrails and resists cancel culture, but at the same time it mistakes amplification for truth. Racism thrives when institutions abdicate, when grievances are monetized faster than they can be moderated, and when complexity is traded for conspiracy.

Philip Gross is a business executive and writer based in London. Born in New York, he writes on Jewish history, identity, and public affairs.