Uncategorized
Shaanan Streett of Israeli hip-hop band Hadag Nahash mixes music and activism
Shaanan Streett, one-sixth of the Israeli hip-hop/funk group Hadag Nahash, says that it’s all well and good for musicians to advocate for social-justice causes, but that doesn’t mean the music can’t also be fun. Streett seems to have accomplished both goals, as his band’s songs are featured in protests for various causes while remaining catchy and danceable. As long as you “keep it real,” Streett says, audiences will pick up on your authenticity.
In our interview, Streett talks about what music can do to bring people together and about his hometown of Jerusalem.
First, tell us where you grew up and how you came to the music world.
I was born in 1971 in Jerusalem. I still live on the outskirts of Jerusalem. After the army, I, like many Israelis, traveled the world. When I was in the US, I started hearing a lot of hip-hop, and like a true traveler, I had a pad and a pen, and I started writing down rhymes in Hebrew. And when I came back to Israel, I recorded one song. I handed it out in CD stores. And one of the employees at one of the CD stores turned out to be a guy with an instrumental funk band. And that’s how we started.
Before we go more into your music, tell me about Jerusalem. There’s the Jerusalem of everybody’s imagination around the world, and there’s the real Jerusalem in which real people live.
Yeah, nobody lives in the Jerusalem of the imagination, not a single person. But oddly enough, nobody lives in the Jerusalem of the real world, either. We all live somewhere in between. Doesn’t matter what religion you belong to, if any; if you’re in this city, you won’t only live on what’s happening on the floor, you’re going to live thousands of years of history, millions and millions of hopes and shattered hopes. It’s all circulating around you at any given moment. And, in that sense, it’s super artistic.
You’re involved in art, films, and music. What can these things do to foster Jewish pride or bring people together?
It’s really hard for me to put baggage on art. If it happens, it happens because the art did it, not the artist. It’s hard to explain. My only advice would be a classic hip-hop phrase: keep it real, do it as real as you can. Even when it seems like it’s the wrong thing to do, still speak your mind. And that’s the only way, at least for me and my band, to connect.
What, to you, is keeping it real? I know that you founded a number of community activities, including the One Shekel Festival, that help to strengthen marginalized communities. Is that an important part of what you do?
I think that involvement in social issues in Israel is kind of like a privilege or a benefit that artists can choose. Because people do want to hear what we have to say, and it’s up to us to decide if we want to say it or not. So yeah, when I was speaking earlier about keeping it real, it’s not to shy away from the issues, it’s to talk about the issues. And if people can act — perfect. If we can hold a festival in a place that never had one—amazing. If we can volunteer in a cancer ward — amazing. If we can perform in a forest that they want to tear down to turn into a neighborhood—even though all of the green movements think that it’s a disaster—we’ll do it. So, we try to stay close not only to the art but also to what’s happening. But that does get very, very tiring because we aren’t politicians, and we aren’t activists. We’re artists with our hearts in the right place.
Do you feel like you need to balance writing about social issues and just writing something that’s fun? Or can you accomplish both?
We demand the freedom to write whatever we want at any given time, and that can be about, for example, marijuana or just having a good time, as well as social injustice. It’s not one or the other. Our lives contain both. And when we want to keep it real, we have to speak about both. If I can give you an example from our latest album that we’re still recording, actually. But our first single that was released is a real good vibe, fun kind of tune with funny rhyming and funny references for Israelis. The single that we’re releasing tomorrow is called the “City of God,” and it’s about Jerusalem and what it does to its inhabitants over time. So, totally different topics, but music from the same band, and we’re always trying to keep it funky and fun. Having fun is super important to us. Because even if you’re saying important stuff, but it’s not fun, who wants to join? Right? There’s a saying that is something like, “If you can’t dance to it, it’s not my revolution.”
Who are some of your hip-hop influences?
I just did my top-five artists on Spotify. The first one this year was Lil Wayne. And the second one was a female rapper here in Israel called Eden Dersso. Number three was Kendrick Lamar. Number four was Eminem. And then number five was an Israeli rapper called Peled. So, actually, the top five were all hip-hop. But I’m influenced by various things — anywhere from jazz to rock and roll, reggae, electronic music, funk, of course, and a bunch of hip-hop from all over the world.
One theme of the Z3 conference is achieving Jewish unity and pride. What kind of advice do you have for younger people who may be reluctant to show their Jewish pride?
I think the best method would be to find something on Judaism that you connect with. Find certain elements and be proud of that. Narrow it down. You’re not holding 5,000 years of Jewry on your shoulders. You don’t need to feel that way. Judaism, and for that matter, Diaspora Jews, have so much to be proud of. Diaspora Jews have achieved so much that there’s plenty to be proud of inside that enormous umbrella. So just find the things you connect with and be proud of that. I think that’s a good way to start.
—
The post Shaanan Streett of Israeli hip-hop band Hadag Nahash mixes music and activism appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Uncategorized
What It’s Like to Be on ‘Silent Alert’ in Israel
Rescue personnel work at an impact site following a missile attack from Iran, in Bat Yam, Israel, June 15, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Ronen Zvulun
It’s a very Israeli “thing” — so much a part of our identity that we don’t even have a word for it. I call it the “silent alert.”
When the Israeli government prefers to not cause panic or tip off its enemies, when it wants to project confidence and strength, it sometimes announces … nothing at all. And yet somehow, we all know to prepare.
Despite the threats emanating from the situation in Iran, the Israeli government has not put out an official warning or any particular instructions to all of us here on the “Home Front” — even at points when a military response from Iran seemed very likely.
Yet still, we’re already double checking our bomb shelters. When away from home, we’re aware of our surroundings, and we note the location of the nearest shelters, as we did for almost two years during the Gaza war. We’re just a little more careful about keeping our phones charged, and our kitchens stocked.
Why?
The superficial, intellectual reason is this: If the United States strikes Iran, then Iran will likely respond by striking us. There’s precedent: after Iraq invaded Kuwait in 1991, Saddam Hussein fired massive Scud missiles on Israel, an absurd response given that Israel was one of the only countries in the Western world that had NOT joined the international strikes on Iraq.
Yet there is another significant and more Israeli reason: we just know.
Entrance to the bomb shelter at the RealityCheck offices in Tel Aviv. Photo: RealityCheck.
Israel is a small country, where everyone knows everyone — not literally, but almost.
Soldiers are not unknown figures on some distant base or overseas — they are our parents and children, our neighbors and co-workers, our friends — and in my case, many of my students. Small talk by the פינת קפה (Israel’s equivalent of the “water cooler”) or discussions over family dinner, are basically low-key intelligence briefings.
Of course we don’t know the specifics of secret capabilities in advance, such as the stunning “pager operation” against Hezbollah in 2024, or the myriad of tools brought to bear against Iran last June, but we know when “something’s up.”
This happened numerous times in the last few years — around conflicts with Hezbollah, and Iran. And we always come back to our “Silent Alert.”
Intellectually, we remember that some of Iran’s most deadly attacks during June’s “Twelve Day War” came in during its final days, with notable improvements in both targeting and munitions power. If the Iranian regime is truly nearing its end, it may decide to use the most powerful weapons it has been holding in reserve. Even chemical weapons, though not expected, are not entirely out of the question. On the other hand, Israel’s defenses have improved as well, including the unveiling of Iron Beam, the IDF’s new laser-based missile defense system.
Yet beyond intellect, we all “just know.” Like Hezbollah’s plan to wipe out Israel’s civilian infrastructure, these concerns might not come to pass. Yet for now, the danger is real, and Israeli civilians remain on “Silent Alert.”
Our thoughts are primarily with the astonishingly brave Iranian protesters, risking their very lives just to march and speak out — but in Israel, the threats are always real.
Daniel Pomerantz is the CEO of RealityCheck, an organization dedicated to deepening public conversation through robust research studies and public speaking.
Uncategorized
On Canadian Campuses, Intimidation Is Becoming Policy
Anti-Israel mob moments before it shattered glass door to storm Jewish event featuring IDF soldiers near Toronto Metropolitan University. Photo: Provided by witness of incident
Canadian universities like to describe themselves as guardians of free inquiry. But across the country, they are quietly training students to learn a different lesson: that some ideas are simply not worth debating, defending, or discussing.
Over the past two years, pro-Israel events have become uniquely difficult to hold on Canadian campuses — not controversial in the abstract, not banned outright, but rendered practically impossible through a combination of administrative obstruction and tolerated disruption.
Whether this pattern stems from ideological sympathy or institutional cowardice matters less than its effects. The result is the same: one set of students learns that their speech is a liability, while another learns that intimidation works.
The incidents are not isolated anomalies; they have become the norm over the past two years. Since late 2023 and continuing through 2025, anti-Israel protestors have repeatedly shut down or derailed campus events.
At Toronto Metropolitan University, anti-Israel protestors disrupted a pro-Israel event to the point of chaos. At Concordia, a student group was barred from holding an Israel-related event on campus entirely. When the event was moved off campus, protestors followed and physically blocked entrances.
In Winnipeg, a pro-Palestinian group protested an IDF soldier event at a community centre with children and families present, after the event was forced out of a college campus.
Less visible, but just as telling, are the quieter administrative encounters that epitomize how pro-Israel activity is increasingly treated as a problem to be managed rather than an expression to be accommodated.
Universities often respond by insisting that they’re merely enforcing neutral policies: security requirements, space approvals, risk assessments.
But neutrality collapses when the same scrutiny is not applied evenly. Pro-Israel events routinely face heightened security fees, last-minute conditions, location changes, or outright cancellations, while other politically charged programming often appears to proceed with fewer obstacles.
In practice, this amounts to a quiet “Jewish tax” on participation: higher security bills, more paperwork, more scrutiny, and more risk simply for wanting to host an event connected to Jewish identity or Israel.
In several cases, approvals are granted only to be quietly reversed days later, with vague references to new policies and no clear explanation, leaving students with no appeal and no timeline.
When the price of speaking is predictably higher for one community, exclusion no longer needs to be explicit to be effective.
Over time, this selective enforcement reshapes campus life in ways administrators rarely acknowledge. Student leaders internalize risk aversion. Event organizers self-censor choices, titles, and themes in the hope of slipping under the radar. Jewish and pro-Israel students stop expecting equal treatment and start planning around institutional resistance as a given.
What looks like peace from an administrative office is actually a culture of withdrawal. Students quickly learn that persistence brings scrutiny, while retreat brings quiet relief, and many choose accordingly.
Even more troubling is what this normalization teaches those who oppose these events. When protestors can disrupt, blockade, or intimidate with little consequence from the school directly, they receive a clear signal that escalation is rewarded.
The cost-benefit analysis becomes obvious. Why argue, debate, or organize a competing event when shouting loudly and causing enough chaos can make the opposition disappear? By failing to enforce their own rules consistently, universities in Canada and the US convert protest from expression into ideological enforcement.
This is not how pluralistic institutions are supposed to work. Universities exist precisely to host contested ideas without allowing one faction to exercise a heckler’s veto to another. Once administrators begin quietly calculating which viewpoints are too expensive, too disruptive, or too politically inconvenient to accommodate, the university ceases to be an arena for debate and becomes a manager of reputational risk.
The consequences extend beyond Israel. Today, it is Jewish activism. Tomorrow, it might be foreign policy dissent, religious expression, or unpopular research. Precedents do not remain neatly confined.
Universities will insist they are under immense pressure, and that may be true. But pressure is not an excuse; it is the test. Institutions that pride themselves on courage and independence cannot outsource their values to whomever shouts the loudest or threatens disruption most effectively.
This is where students, parents, alumni, and donors should step in. Silence has costs. Universities respond to incentives, not press releases or paltry condemnations. When unequal treatment becomes reputationally and financially uncomfortable, policies change. When it does not, administrative drift hardens into doctrine.
The demand here is not special treatment for pro-Israel students. It is equal treatment. Clear rules, enforced consistently. Events allowed to proceed without ideological filtering. Protest protected, but disruption penalized. Safety ensured without turning one group’s existence into a logistical burden.
If universities cannot guarantee that, they should stop pretending they are neutral forums. And if Canadians care about the future of higher education as a space for genuine debate rather than managed conformity, now is the moment to insist that campuses live up to the principles they so eagerly advertise.
Because once students learn that they can shut down ideas they disagree with, the damage is already done.
Adam Katz is a 2025-2026 CAMERA on Campus fellow and a political science and history student at the University of Manitoba.
Uncategorized
Palestinian Authority Just Disguised 6,000 More Pay-for-Slay Terrorists as Innocent Pensioners
European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen delivers the State of the European Union address to the European Parliament, in Strasbourg, France, Sept. 10, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Yves Herman
In the first week of February 2026, the Palestinian Authority (PA) camouflaged the files of 6,000 Pay-for-Slay recipients.
The PA turned some of those terrorists into “pensioners,” and others are now being paid salaries in the civil service for fictitious jobs, so the payments are obscured from international scrutiny and impossible to monitor.
Palestinian Media Watch has acquired original copies of the following three conversations held between recipients of Pay-for-Slay.
Conversation #1: PA disguises 6,000 prisoners and injured terrorists as pensioners:
Recipient One: “Has anyone received a call from any government office and been asked to provide a bank account number in the last two weeks?”
[There was no response.]
“How many times have we told you: demand, demand, demand [your payments]. And what happened? The whole matter was reduced to only 6,000 cases that were transferred to [government] offices, and now they’re verifying their names, calling them, and asking for active bank account numbers to deposit their salaries.”
Member A: “Who told you?”
Member B: “Who is this about?”
Member C: “On what basis did they choose the 6,000?”
Member B: “No one knows.”
Recipient One: “This is the issue: The wounded and prisoners — 6,000 of them [had their files] transferred to pensions in different offices, and they are now registered there, and they are calling them one by one, asking them for bank account numbers to confirm them as pensioners.”
There was great frustration that no one in this particular group of Pay-for-Slay recipients had been notified that they were among the 6,000 new camouflaged members.
Conversation #2: Released prisoner: I went to the Commission of Prisoners’ Affairs and they confirmed that salaries for released prisoners are being paid and “all matters will be resolved:”
I was at the [PLO] Commission [of Prisoners’ Affairs], I went to have them sign my insurance and asked them about the salaries. They told me word for word that there are currently salaries for those who served 5 years, meaning for released [prisoners] who served 5 years or more.
They are given a salary of 1,500 [Israeli] shekels ($500 – ed.), and those who served 10 years are given a salary of 3,000 shekels ($1,000 – ed.), as he told me. I asked him, what about someone who is under 5 years. He told me word for word, come back to us in a month, Allah willing the issues will be resolved. In other words, don’t [complain] every day: ‘The salaries, the salaries, the salaries.’ Allah willing, from now on the matters will be resolved.
Conversation #3: All families of Martyrs and wounded will be moved to government offices
Member A: “Good morning. We have learned that the issue with the last payment is being fixed. There will be allowance payments soon, Allah willing. And we have learned that the committee that was established is studying several proposals to handle the matters definitively. When approval and agreement on a procedure [is reached], we will inform you about it … and coordinate the necessary steps with you, with Allah’s help. Explicitly, they are going to divide up [the families of] the Martyrs and the wounded across government offices.”
Member B: “Okay. So we understand from this that there will be a payment soon[?] … At the same percentage. Will they commit[?]”
Member A: “The old percentage of your salary. The [PA] Labor Ministry took on some of those [Martyrs and wounded] who weren’t paid. Other government offices also took on those about whom there is no [information]. PNEEI is done with; this is the last salary we receive from them. Do you understand? Be well.”
Member B: “That’s what I meant.”
Member A: “Sure, the [old] percentage of your salary.”
Member B: “Okay. The distribution to government offices [will be] under which clause [?]”
Member A: “There will be a payment before Ramadan.”
All of these authentic conversations among recipients of Pay-for-Slay confirm beyond a doubt that the PA is intentionally lying to the US, the EU, France, and other Western countries, claiming to have stopped Pay-for-Slay, while working around the clock to find ways to secretly continue rewarding Palestinian terrorists.
The author is the Founder and Director of Palestinian Media Watch, where a version of this article first appeared.