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Rabbis, teachers, survivors: 18 Jews whose deaths diminished our communities in 2022
(JTA) — All year long, the Jewish Telegraphic Agency reports about the deaths of Jewish newsmakers in our community. To close out the year, we wanted to turn our attention to people who may not have been such household names but whose stories deserve to be remembered.
Here, with the help of readers who shared the names of people they are remembering, we recall 18 Jews who shaped their local communities and made a difference in the lives of those close to them. They include rabbis whose impact extended for decades, teachers who inspired generations of students and activists who were working to build a better world. May their memories be a blessing.
Harriet Bograd
A champion of emerging Jewish communities in far-flung places.
Harriet Bograd, center, her husband Ken Klein, left, and daughter Margie on a visit to the Sefwi Wiawso Jewish community in Ghana in an undated photo. (Courtesy Kulanu, Inc)
Harriet Bograd, who as president of the nonprofit Kulanu supported emerging Jewish communities in Africa, Asia and other places far beyond the usual centers of Jewish life, died on Sept. 17 in a Manhattan hospital. She was 79. A Yale-educated lawyer and a stalwart at the West End Synagogue, she was inspired by a visit in 2004 to a remote village in Ghana, where about two dozen families considered themselves Jewish. In the years to come, she and Kulanu would provide support to emerging Jewish communities in Uganda, Tanzania, Nigeria, Cameroon, Madagascar, Indonesia, Pakistan, Guatemala, the Philippines and more. She once said of her work at Kulanu, “after the Holocaust and the decimation of Jewish communities in Arab lands, the idea [is] that we’re establishing Jewish communities that have their own richness and variety.”
Henry Berg-Brousseau
Transgender activist from Kentucky
Henry Berg-Brousseau (Courtesy Human Rights Campaign)
Henry Berg-Brousseau grew up in Louisville, Kentucky, and studied history, political science and Jewish studies at George Washington University, where he was a founding member of an LGBTQ+ fraternity. He had recently gotten a major promotion at the Human Rights Campaign when he died by suicide in his Arlington, Virginia, home, on Dec. 16 at age 24. “Henry spent his life working to extend grace, compassion and understanding to everyone but especially to the vulnerable and marginalized. This grace, compassion and understanding was not always returned to him,” his mother, the Kentucky state legislator Karen Berg, wrote in a statement that criticized lawmakers who advance anti-LGBTQ views. She added, “He was doing work that was important to him to make the world a more accepting place. At 24 years old. he had finally found a community but that could not undo the brokenness that he already felt.”
Rabbi Simcha Krauss
Orthodox advocate for women’s rights
Rabbi Simcha Krauss speaks at a dinner hosted by Yeshivat Eretz HaTzvi in his honor on Feb. 5, 2014. (Courtesy Yeshivat Eretz HaTzvi)
Rabbi Simcha Krauss, a leading figure of Modern Orthodox Judaism who was a forceful advocate for women’s rights within Orthodoxy, died Jan. 20 at 85. Krauss’s efforts, which included creating a rabbinical court to support “agunot” — women whose husbands refused to divorce them — frequently earned him scorn from traditionalists within Orthodoxy. But many others saw him as a “gentle giant” who wielded his years of study and experience to fight for women’s rights in Jewish law. Krauss was born in Romania and came to the United States in 1948. Coming from a long line of rabbis, Krauss studied at Yeshiva Rabbi Chaim Berlin in Brooklyn, and later studied with the Modern Orthodox luminary Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik. Krauss led the Young Israel of Hillcrest for 25 years. During his years in Queens, Krauss taught Talmud at Yeshiva University and began to get more involved in issues related to the role of women in Orthodoxy. He moved to Israel in 2005, and in 2014 came back to New York to found the International Beit Din, or religious court, to work on agunot cases. “Some say it is a modern revolution,” he told the Jerusalem Post. “I say that’s the way you should do it.”
Rabbi David Weiss Halivni
A survivor and scholar who teased out the many voices of the Talmud
Survivor and Talmud scholar Rabbi David Weiss Halivni was associated with Columbia University for 35 years. (Chaim Meyersdorf/Wikimedia Commons)
Rabbi David Weiss Halivni, the Talmud scholar and Columbia University professor, died June 29 at age 94. A Holocaust survivor and refugee raised in Sighet, Romania, he earned his doctorate and taught for many years at the Conservative movement’s Jewish Theological Seminary in New York, until leaving the institution in 1983 over its decision to ordain women rabbis. He later became dean of the rabbinical school of the Union for Traditional Judaism, a movement created by rabbis and scholars who similarly broke with the Conservative movement. In works like his multi-volume opus “Mekorot u’Mesorot,” or “Sources and Traditions,” he galvanized the world of Talmud study by treating Jewish text as a living, mutable conversation across generations, as opposed to a static document. Halivni’s approach to learning was the “corollary to loving the text so much that you just had to understand it to its fullest, whatever tools would enable you to do so,” wrote Rabbi Ethan Tucker in an appreciation.
Moris Albahari
A remnant of a Ladino-speaking past
Moris Albahari, shown in a documentary about his story called “Saved by Language,” was a pillar of Sarajevo’s Jewish community. (Courtesy of Brian Kirschen)
Moris Albahari was 11 when the Ustaša, Bosnia’s Nazi collaborator force, came to deport him and his large family to Jasenovac, the country’s equivalent of Auschwitz. A former teacher working as an Ustaša guard in the town of Drvar, where the train stopped, warned Albahari’s father, David, about their destination, and David was able to help his son escape from the train. Because Moris knew Ladino, the Jewish language that is mixture of medieval Spanish, Hebrew, Aramaic, Turkish and other languages, he was able to speak with the Italian soldier who saved him. Ladino would save him several more times before the end of the war, but afterwards, with most of Sarajevo’s Jews dead or forever dispersed, he spoke the language largely at home. At one point the director of Sarajevo’s airport, Albahari was a leader within Bosnia’s Jewish community. “It is a terrible loss, especially for Sarajevok,” said Eliezer Papo, a Sarajevo-born Jew and scholar of Ladino in Israel. “We’re not speaking just in terms of prominent members of the community, we’re speaking in terms of family members.”
Rachel Brodie
A “master Jewish educator” whose influence was vast
Rachel Brodie (Courtesy of J. The Jewish News of Northern California)
Rachel Brodie was unassuming and humble yet through her work as an educator had a vast influence on the Jewish community in the Bay Area of California, where she lived, and beyond. Brodie was the co-founder Jewish Milestones, an educational resource for Jewish lifecycle ceremonies that launched in 2004 as The Ritualist. She also served as “chief Jewish officer” at the Jewish community Center of San Francisco, a position created just for her, from 2011 to 2016. “To be in Rachel’s presence was to be illuminated by her wit, her laughter, and her fierce and tender heart,” wrote the founders of the Jewish Studio Project in Berkeley, where she had been a senior educator. “To learn with her was to be stimulated, delighted, and transformed.” Brodie, 55, died on April 11 after falling at her home in Berkeley.
Rabbi Steven Sager
“Leader, mentor, poet” in North Carolina and beyond
Rabbi Steven Sager at Beth El Synagogue in Durham, North Carolina, in 2017. (Courtesy Anna Carson DeWitt)
When Rabbi Steven Sager died May 15 at 71 after an extended battle with pancreatic cancer, he was mourned not only by his family and his congregants at Beth El Synagogue in Durham, North Carolina, from which he retired in 2011 after 32 years, but by a rabbinic and Hebrew poetry community spanning the globe. “Steve was a beautiful and deep human being,” the Israeli poet Rivka Miriam wrote. “I generally do not believe in translation, especially translation of poetry. It seems to me that every language has an inner secret that cannot be transposed into another vessel. Yet, when Steve translated my poems I had a different feeling — I felt he entered an inner layer, one that lies beneath any language, a layer carrying a hidden code.”
Nate Geller
Devoted to building stronger Jewish communities
Nate Geller, at his home in Teaneck, New Jersey. A colleague’s daughter made the “Nate” sign, which he took home and hung on his mantel. (Courtesy)
Nate Geller died on Jan. 24 at age 63, after a struggle with leukemia that he faced with characteristic humility, faith and optimism. His death was a blow to his colleagues at 70 Faces Media (JTA’s parent company); to his synagogue community in Teaneck, New Jersey; and to the Jewish communal world to which he had dedicated his life since graduating from the Hornstein Program in Jewish Communal Service at Brandeis University in 1983. In the hours after his death, chat rooms and email boxes filled up with loving tributes to Nate, remarkable for their consistency: Friends and colleagues remarked on his gentleness, his passion for Jewish learning, his commitment to Israel, his willingness not just to hear but to listen when a colleague kvelled or kvetched. Most of all, they remembered his devotion to his family: his wife Lyn Light Geller, herself a gentle and passionate force among “Jewish professionals,” his grown children Aliza, Ariana and Koby, Koby’s wife Talia, and their kids, Annaelle and Judah. Said one colleague and fellow congregant, “There is an enormous Nate-shaped void in the world now.”
Hedi Fried
A voice for Holocaust remembrance in Sweden
Holocaust survivor Hedi Fried stands between Sweden’s culture minister and handball player Linnea Claeson during a counterprotest against a neo-Nazi demonstration in Stockholm, Aug. 25, 2018. (Pontus Lundahl/AFP via Getty Images)
Born in 1924 in Sighet, in what was then Hungary and is now Romania, Hedi Fried survived Auschwitz and settled in Sweden, where she became a psychologist and advocate for Holocaust survivors. She created Cafe 84, a salon for survivors in Stockholm, and spoke widely about her experiences during the Holocaust, gathering some of the most common exchanges in “Questions I Am Asked About the Holocaust,” published in English in 2019. “Your solidarity was boundless and no question too difficult to answer. You were brave, generous, dedicated and extremely wise,” Christina Gamstorp, the director of Stockholm’s Jewish museum, wrote in a remembrance. “Now your voice has fallen silent but not your message. It lives on in everyone who met you, in your texts, books, films and your belief that man is still good — and that it is possible to build a society free from antisemitism and racism, which threaten our entire existence.” Fried, who had three children, died in November at 98.
Rabbi Sy Dresner
The “most arrested rabbi in America”
Rabbi Martin Freedman, right, and Rabbi Israel Dresner,center, are taken to the Tallahassee city building where they were charged with unlawful assembly after they and 10 other “Freedom Riders” were arrested attempting to eat at the Tallahassee airport in June 1961. (Getty Photos)
Rabbi Israel “Sy” Dresner, who demonstrated with Martin Luther King Jr. and was sometimes called the “most arrested rabbi in America,” died Jan. 13. He was 92. A Freedom Rider in the 1960s, Dresner built a career as a social justice-oriented Reform rabbi who was active in the fight against the Vietnam War and was a vocal opponent of Israel’s occupation of the West Bank. Dresner was born on the Lower East Side in 1929 to an Orthodox family and grew up in Brooklyn, where his father ran a delicatessen. He attended yeshivas as a child but went on to become a Reform rabbi after serving in the Korean War and working on a kibbutz in Israel. “We came as Jews who remember the millions of faceless people who stood quietly, watching the smoke rise from Hitler’s crematoria,” he said after an arrest in 1964 outside a segregated motel in St. Augustine, Florida. “We came because we know that, second only to silence, the greatest danger to man is loss of faith in man’s capacity to act.”
Eli Evans
‘Poet laureate of Southern Jews’
Eli Evans, seen here in a picture from a trip to Israel in the 1970s, was “equally at home in New York.” (Courtesy Josh Evans)
Born in 1936 in Durham, North Carolina, where his father would become the first Jewish mayor and his mother the founder of Hadassah’s first chapter in the South, Eli Evans remained tied to his native home despite spending his adult life in New York City, where he was a prominent grant-maker whose giving fueled the creation of “Sesame Street” in both the United States and Israel. He wrote several memoirs about Southern Jews and also included the South in his philanthropy, which he pursued at multiple foundations according to an activist philosophy that helped launch the Children’s Defense Fund, seeded the South with Black lawyers who became local civil rights leaders and built ties between Israeli and Egyptian scientists after their countries made peace in 1979. “Eli was a Southern gentleman who interacted with the Jewish establishment and strengthened American Jewish life, without losing his Southern Jewish soul,” said Brandeis University professor of American Jewish history Jonathan Sarna. “It was a privilege to have known him.” Evans died July 26 in Manhattan of complications of COVID-19, after a period of declining health.
Sheryl Grossman
A lifelong advocate for people with disabilities
Sheryl Grossman was a Jewish disability activist. (Screenshot from 2021 JDAIM Interview Series at Towson University)
Sheryl Grossman stood small, at just 4’3″ and 48 pounds, but in the world of Jewish disability advocacy she loomed large, as both the founder of a Facebook group for people living with Bloom’s Syndrome and as a board member of Yad Hachazakah, the Jewish Disability Empowerment Center. She died March 28 at age 46, the result of a Bloom’s Syndrome-linked cancer. “I don’t think anyone will ever know just how much work Sheryl did during the pandemic to help Jewish communities support their most vulnerable neighbors who were in the hospital or isolated at home with COVID,” said Shoshana Finkel, a law student who met Grossman when she was an intern at the American Association of People with Disabilities. “She didn’t feel the need to share her accomplishments; that was never what the work was about for her.”
Dara Goldman
A professor of Spanish and Jewish studies in her prime
Dara Goldman was a professor of Spanish and Jewish studies at the University of Illinois. (Courtesy U of I)
Dara Goldman was preparing for graduation at the University of Illinois, where she was a professor of Spanish and chair of the Program in Jewish Culture and Society, and for the American Jewish Historical Society conference, when she died May 13 of a heart attack. She was 51. A graduate of Columbia and Emory universities, Goldman produced scholarship so diverse that she was affiliated with eight units within the University of Illinois; most recently, she was researching Jewish cultural production in Cuba, where she brought resources for the Jewish community during her research trips, and co-edited a volume on 21st-century Jewish writing. “With her characteristic wit, she would often joke that she was a Jewish woman who took a wrong turn at diaspora,” said a remembrance published by the university. “But jokes aside, she could be at the same time a Jewish woman from New Jersey and an adopted daughter of Puerto Rico and Cuba, two cultures that she knew intimately and loved very deeply. … The echoes of her inimitable, hearty laughter will resonate within our halls for a long time.”
Yaakov Shalev
A beloved family man whose story was Israel’s
Yaakov Shalev, seated third from right, helped organize Iraqi Jews’ exodus to Israel. (Courtesy Asaf Shalev)
“When I arrived for a visit with family in Israel in my early twenties, my septum piercing outraged nearly everyone at our Shabbat morning gathering. Even my younger cousins badgered me to remove it. It took my elderly grandfather, Yaakov Shalev, to quiet everyone down and declare that I am his same beloved grandson, with or without the piercing.
“Calm, open-minded, steadfast, Saba Yaakov, as we called him, passed away peacefully in February at age 92 in Holon, with his five children at his side. He spent his last few hours listening to the melodies of his youth in Baghdad, the music of giants such as Umm Kulthum, Mohammed Abdel Wahab, and Fairuz.
“Saba Yaakov helped organize the exodus of Iraqi Jewry to Israel in 1950 and then enlisted in the Israeli military as an airplane mechanic. He taught himself how to build houses and became a successful contractor in the 1960s. But he soon decided the stress was too much and opened a shop in south Tel Aviv where he fabricated canvases for Israeli artists and framed their paintings. He kept the shop running for more than 40 years, going to work every day until he was in his eighties.” — Asaf Elia-Shalev, JTA reporter
Trude Feldman
A journalist who specialized in Yom Kippur interviews
Trude Feldman interviews Jimmy Carter in the White House in 1978. (Jimmy Carter Presidential Library)
The daughter of a rabbinical family, Trude Feldman launched her career covering the 1961 trial of Nazi mass murderer Adolf Eichmann in Jerusalem, where she put her training as a Hebrew teacher to use by teaching the language to the Nazi’s lawyer. (She also taught Hebrew to famed converts Sammy Davis Jr. and Elizabeth Taylor, and to Paul Newman on the set of “Exodus.”) But it was in her coverage of American presidents that Feldman truly made her mark, becoming famous for scoring presidential exit interviews and Yom Kippur interviews, which she would pitch as an opportunity for redemption. That’s what got her the first interview with Bill Clinton after he copped in 1998 to yes, having sex with that woman. The mainstream media mocked her for her softballs — “Saturday Night Live” once did so in a sketch — but those close to her understood their value. “The joke, however, was on everyone else,” her nephew, Rabbi Daniel Feldman, wrote in a remembrance. “Paired with her signature persistence, her style more often elicited not puff but profundity, more sincerity than sugar. The unique access she earned — baffling to some, understood to the astute, acknowledged by all — yielded memorable results.”
Harlene Winnick Appelman
A revolutionary leader in Jewish education
Harlene Winnick Appelman in an undated photo provided by the Covenant Foundation.
Born in upstate New York, Harlene Appelman’s career in Jewish education took off in 1982 when she became the director of family life education at Congregation Shaarey Zedek in Southfield, Michigan, a Detroit suburb. There, she pioneered interactive Jewish learning, bringing children out of dry frontal settings into a more tactile experience of Judaism. After joining the board of the Covenant Foundation, which funds and promotes Jewish education, in 1994, she became its director in 2005 and held that role until 2021, allowing her to influence a generation of Jewish educators. Many of them mourned her death at 75 on Aug. 18; the cause was cancer. “I am one of an entire congregation of Jewish educational leaders who Harlene mentored, supported, prodded and constructively critiqued, promoted, and made feel special,” wrote Rabbi Shira Koch Epstein, in an online remembrance. “I hope that in her memory, I will find ever new ways to help more Jewish rabbis and educators feel seen, heard, capable, and motivated.” This month, the Covenant Foundation initiated a new prize, in Jewish family education, in Appelman’s honor.
Tom Tugend
An indefatigable journalist
Tom Tugend in his Los Angeles home, Aug. 3, 2021. (Jacob Gurvis)
Tom Tugend was 13 when he and his family left their home in Berlin in 1939. He was 97 when he died Dec. 7 in Los Angeles, where he had lived for most of his life. In the intervening decades, he fought in the U.S. Army and the Israel Defense Forces; covered Jewish news for a wide array of publications, including JTA; and enjoyed 66 years of marriage during which he and his wife raised three daughters. “His authenticity came through to anyone who knew him,” said one of them, the journalist Alina Tugend. “He was a hero to many people.”
Judah Samet
A two-time survivor of antisemitic terror
Judah Samet stands next to his portrait, part of Luigi Toscano’s “Lest We Forget” project at the University of Pittsburgh in 2019. (Photo by Hector Corante, courtesy of Holocaust Center of Pittsburgh)
Judah Samet became a national face of Pittsburgh’s 2018 Tree of Life synagogue shooting because he survived: He had been running late that day, so was not inside the building when 11 of his fellow congregants were murdered. Months later, he was President Donald Trump’s guest to the State of the Union address. The experience was both very different Samet’s childhood in Hungary, where he was born in February 1938, and in some ways similar. As a young child, Samet was forced by the Nazis from his home and shipped with his family first to a labor camp in Austria and then to the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp. After a stop in Israel, he moved to Pittsburgh in the 1950s, ultimately joining his father-in-law’s jewelry business there and remaining a committed community member until his death at 84 on Sept. 27.
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Tidbits: Yiddish activist in Sweden receives royal medal
Tidbits is a Forverts feature of easy news briefs in Yiddish that you can listen to or read, or both! If you read the article and don’t know a word, just click on it and the translation appears. Listen to the report here:
סוסאַנע שנײַדערמאַן־ריץ, די אָנגעזעענע ייִדיש־אַקטיוויסטקע אין שוועדן און די פּרעזידענטקע פֿונעם שוועדישן צווײַג פֿון דער אַלוועלטלעכער ציוניסטישער פֿרויען־אָרגאַניזאַציע „וויזאָ“ — וועט באַקומען איינע פֿון שוועדנס העכסטע קיניגלעכע אויסצייכענונגען, „דעם קעניגס מעדאַל“, דעם 9טן סעפּטעמבער, אינעם קיניגלעכן פּאַלאַץ אין שטאָקהאָלם.
לויט דער אָפֿיציעלער באַשרײַבונג ווערט שנײַדערמאַן־ריץ אָנערקענט פֿאַר איר „ממשותדיקן בײַשטײַער צו דער מינאָריטעט־שפּראַך, ייִדיש.“ שוין צענדליקער יאָרן וואָס שנײַדערמאַן־ריץ קעמפֿט לטובֿת דעם אָפּהיטן די ייִדישע קולטור אין שוועדן.
שנײַדערמאַן־ריץ איז געווען איינע פֿון די פֿירערס בײַם פֿאַרזיכערן אַן אָפֿיציעלע אָנערקענונג פֿון ייִדיש ווי איינע פֿון שוועדנס נאַציאָנאַלע מינאָריטעט־שפּראַכן. צום סוף האָט די קאַמפּאַניע מצליח געווען. ייִדיש האָט באַקומען אַ לעגאַלן סטאַטוס און דערבײַ דערמעגלעכט אַז די רעגירונג זאָל העלפֿן פֿינאַנצירן דאָס אויפֿהאַלטן און אַנטוויקלען די ייִדישע שפּראַך און קולטור.
די אָנערקענונג ווערט באַטראַכט פֿאַר אַ ווענדפּונקט פֿאַר דער ייִדישער קהילה אין שוועדן, בפֿרט איצט ווען די זאָרג וועגן אַנטיסעמיטיזם וואַקסט פֿון טאָג צו טאָג בײַ ייִדן איבער גאַנץ אייראָפּע.
ייִדיש־אַקטיוויסטן זאָגן, אַז די אָפֿיציעלע שטיצע פֿאַר דער שפּראַך העלפֿט אָפּהיטן אַ וויכטיקן טייל פֿון דער ייִדישער קולטור־ירושה און פֿאַרשטאַרקט דעם אָנדענק פֿון ייִדישן לעבן אין שוועדן במשך פֿון דער געשיכטע.
צו זען דעם אַרטיקל אויף ענגליש גיט אַ קוועטש דאָ.
To see this article in English, click here.
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From a Catskills bungalow in 1969, you can almost see astronauts
Crickets chirp as the audience enters The Laura Pels Theatre. Tall grass rims the front of the stage, and home movies from summer resorts in the Catskills are projected on a screen. Mother and son wave hi from a lake, a boy swims laps and bubbies walk past in their swimsuits.
This is the setting of A Walk on the Moon, a new off-Broadway musical written by Pamela Gray and based on the 1999 film of the same name for which she wrote the screenplay. Inspired by Gray’s childhood summers in a “Borscht Belt” bungalow colony, the show depicts the life of a Brooklyn-accented Jewish family against the backdrop of the Apollo 11 moon landing, the Vietnam War and the Woodstock music festival.
The show opens on Pearl Kantrowitz (Talia Suskauer) looking out wistfully as she stands in front of her summer bungalow. Pearl, who became pregnant with her daughter at 16, is struggling with the concept of domestic life amid a decade filled with excitement and chaos. It’s nearing the end of the ‘60s, and she feels as though she had barely experienced it.
In contrast, Pearl’s husband, Marty (Max Chernin), is a TV repairman entirely resistant to change, even when it comes to the bakery where his “blackout” cake comes from. He’s only in the Catskills for the weekend though, leaving Pearl subject to her temptations for the rest of the week. These desires come in the form of Walker Jerome (Sam Gravitte), a hippie “blouse man” who plans to move to California. Before the curtain closes on Act I, Walker and Pearl begin an affair as a man lands on the moon — and are left to deal with the ramifications in the second act of the show.
Pearl’s journey of self-exploration parallels that of her teenage daughter Allison (Sophie Pollono), who is falling in love with Ross (Oscar Williams), a 16-year-old boy who describes himself as “Big Jewish Hendrix.” Allison, who first appears clutching a Joni Mitchell album, is a headstrong girl who speaks out against the state of the world in any way she can — she lambasts her brother’s cap gun and refuses to attend the colony’s 4th of July celebration. Ross is an aspiring musician who, though he admires the counter-culture singers of the time, is nervous to take tangible action of his own.
As the teenage couple discusses the changing world around them and finds connection over the music of Ross’ guitar, Pearl seeks to regain the teenage years that she lost, experimenting with marijuana, attending Woodstock and attempting to hide her affair from her children and her watchful mother-in-law, Lillian (Andréa Burns).
The moon landing means something different to each character: Allison views it as a U.S. invasion analogous to Vietnam, Walker is inspired by the potential it symbolizes, Ross considers writing a song about it. Though daily life is primarily filled with mah jongg games and visits from the knish man, this tiny colony isn’t immune from the tumultuous time period. Walker discusses his brother who is missing in action and Ross contemplates burning his draft card, singing with Allison about the need for change, lest the “candle in the wind goes out.”
Some plot elements are a tad heavy handed, such as when Pearl buys a tie-dye shirt and sings a song with Marty about it (he finds her shirt too new and different) or the Jewish wives’ discussion and ensuing song about Betty Friedan (“keep your book, cuz we ain’t ready”). The show also glosses over some things, such as how Pearl explains her whereabouts while she’s with Walker and who manages her responsibilities while the two of them are together.
The musical numbers, coupled with dances performed in colorful capris and mod dresses, concern forbidden love, Saturday nights in the Catskills and the momentous nature of the moon landing. While none is particularly groundbreaking, they are well-performed; Suskauer is a vocal standout.
However, these critiques don’t detract from the show’s mission to recreate the Catskills bungalows once prominent in Jewish consciousness. The wives get farputst for dinner; Pearl is said to be “schtupping” the blouse man; the loudspeaker announces that “Shimmy the Pickle Man” is coming to town. The set, a bungalow amidst a sea of trees, creates a nostalgic and intimate ambience supplemented by projected video of the moon landing, protests and napalm bombs.
Catskills colonies are now few, and Woodstock is only a distant memory. For a few hours, though, one can imagine what it’s like to be in the summer of 1969, and Neil Armstrong is about to walk on the moon.
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In Israel’s astonishing new reality, voters expect Netanyahu to try to sabotage elections
Two extraordinary recent developments illustrate how politically unsettled Israel is in advance of elections this year: Supreme Court Justice Noam Solberg, chairman of Israel’s Central Elections Committee, publicly outlined the legal conditions under which elections could possibly be postponed during a national emergency, and former Prime Minister Ehud Barak warned that Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu might try to sabotage elections and have to be physically removed from office.
The fact that such scenarios are now being openly discussed by figures at the center of Israel’s democratic system reveals how close the country’s democracy is to a breakdown — and the country’s character to a fundamental change.
For decades, Israel prided itself on maintaining democratic continuity under impossible conditions. Through wars, terror campaigns, coalition collapses and corruption scandals, there remained an unspoken assumption that elections would occur and governments would leave office when they lost.
Now, for the first time in Israeli history, a substantial portion of the public fears that this assumption no longer stands.
“If Netanyahu tries to sabotage the elections, we will have no choice but to drive him out with sticks and stones,” Barak said, speaking in Hebrew on Israel Radio.
The astonishing thing: no one else on the program was astonished.
The unthinkable, now possible
The atmosphere surrounding the expected election, which must take place before the end of October, has become marked by increasingly apocalyptic rhetoric as Netanyahu faces negative polls. A poll by the Israel Democracy Institute found that 61% of Israelis believe Netanyahu should not run for reelection at all. Another poll found that 63% of Israelis fear for the future of Israeli democracy itself, while 56% said that internal divisions pose a greater threat to Israel than external enemies.
These are extraordinary numbers in a country historically defined by external security fears. Increasingly, many Israelis now believe the gravest threat facing the country is internal democratic collapse.
Justice Solberg’s remarks last week, which took place at a closed academic event and were reported later, added fuel to the fire.
Solberg, who is a conservative and considered politically sympathetic to Netanyahu, outlined six principles that would have to govern any decision to postpone elections, including a clearly defined plan for a return to normal electoral procedures.
Solberg emphasized that no election should be postponed merely because a crisis exists. Rather, authorities must demonstrate that the emergency has materially impaired the country’s ability to conduct free, equal and genuine elections. He concluded by expressing hope that Israel would never face circumstances requiring such a decision.
The fear that Israel is actually quite close to such a postponement cuts across much of Israeli society. I’ve heard it expressed by secular liberals, military veterans, former intelligence officials, legal scholars, journalists, centrist politicians, and even some conservatives who once supported Netanyahu enthusiastically. What unites them is the growing belief that Netanyahu now considers remaining in power to be an existential necessity — and that his radical base will back him no matter what outrage he attempts.
Yair Golan, former deputy IDF chief and leader of the opposition Democrats Party, has become one of the loudest voices warning that the danger is no longer theoretical. Golan warned publicly that Netanyahu’s camp could “sabotage, falsify, lie and intimidate” in order to remain in power. He also warned against attempts to alter election rules before voting takes place, and announced plans for extensive election monitoring operations to try to help safeguard the vote.
A decade ago, such statements from a senior Israeli political figure would have sounded deranged. Today, many Israelis hear them as sober preparation.
Inventing an emergency
Netanyahu’s current term, after a very close election in 2022, has been calamitous, starting with his hugely unpopular effort to eviscerate the judiciary, then continuing with the Oct. 7 Hamas massacre and a three-year multi-front war with unsatisfying conclusions. Most Israelis believe he extended at least one branch of the conflict, in Gaza, to satisfy ultranationalists in his coalition.
Which means there’s precedent for believing Netanyahu might invent or invite an emergency to further his personal goals.
One possibility is yet another external war, involving a manufactured escalation with Iran or Hezbollah, or in the West Bank, where radical settlers terrorize Palestinians while Israeli authorities look the other way. Another, and the most obvious, would involve a sudden change in the status of the Temple Mount — a goal toward which some far-right members of Netanyahu’s coalition have been agitating — or other combustible religious sites.
Any domestic route Netanyahu might choose would invite a direct confrontation between the executive branch and the judiciary over the legitimacy of democratic procedures themselves.
If the Supreme Court ruled against Netanyahu, many fear the coalition could refuse compliance outright. After all, Netanyahu has spent years seeding the idea that the Supreme Court — and also prosecutors, the attorney general, and the civil service — are liberal fronts which do not necessarily need to be obeyed.
Devaluing democracy
The columnist Ravit Hecht recently argued in Haaretz that significant portions of the coalition no longer merely oppose liberal democracy, but reject democracy itself.
As Netanyahu has increasingly aligned himself with these forces, Hecht wrote, he has adopted “more and more dictatorial characteristics,” leading to “real fear for the purity of the coming election or even that it will be held.”
At the same time, much of the right has mainstreamed conspiracy theories surrounding the Oct. 7 attack and the Gaza war. Because of the Netanyahu machine’s jackhammer agitprop, almost a third of Israelis now believe the “betrayal from within” theory in which Israel’s security services assisted Hamas on Oct. 7 to harm Netanyahu.
Figures such as Likud Knesset member Tally Gotliv have openly accused the Shin Bet, military officers, protest leaders, judges and the attorney general of betrayal or collaboration with Hamas. Instead of being marginalized, such rhetoric increasingly receives tacit acceptance from parts of the governing coalition.
Yediot Ahronot columnist Ben-Dror Yemini compared the phenomenon to the Nazi-era “stab-in-the-back” myth after World War I, which blamed Jews for Germany’s humiliation. Yemini warned that societies consumed by conspiracy theories eventually destroy trust in every institution capable of holding democracy together.
Given this level of agitation, it is fair to view Israel’s coming election as something far more significant than a contest between left and right or rival policy agendas. Increasingly, it looks like a referendum on whether the country remains the democracy it has always claimed — and largely managed — to be.
The post In Israel’s astonishing new reality, voters expect Netanyahu to try to sabotage elections appeared first on The Forward.

