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Standing on Albania’s Jew Street, I learned firsthand the country’s lifesaving culture of hospitality
BERAT, Albania (JTA) — Stone paths wind through the Ottoman-style houses built into the hillside of Berat, Albania. They lead to an imposing 13th-century castle at the peak — the top priority for most visitors to this 60,000-person town 90 minutes south of the capital, Tirana. I had other plans.
Albanians take pride in their ancient code of “besa,” which translates to “keep the promise” and leads them to prioritize guests and religion in their homes. For Albanian Jews or those who fled there from elsewhere in the Balkan Peninsula as German forces advanced during World War II, it promised safe harbor with Albanian families and even throughout entire towns. Albania is the only country in Europe whose Jewish population grew during the war.
Berat’s Solomoni Museum explains this history and that of earlier Jews in the area. At least, so I hear: Under the stone arches off the plaza, I found only locked doors.
Some people collect souvenir spoons or Starbucks city mugs when they travel, others collect memories. I collect fragments of Jewish identity. Planning this trip to Albania with friends, I insisted on a stop in Berat to see the small museum and wasn’t about to give up.
“I’ll call her,” offered the woman behind the desk at the Ethnographic Museum across the street. “Her” referred to the caretaker, the widow of the Orthodox Christian professor who started the museum — Albania’s only one dedicated to Jewish history — as a passion project funded by his pension. After Simon Vrusho’s death in 2019, the museum closed until a French-Albanian businessman heard the story and donated funds for it to reopen in a larger, permanent location.
But the call ended with bad news: The caretaker was sick, and the museum would remain closed. I grimaced. Seeing my reaction, the Ethnographic Museum docent did what all Albanians do — anything she could to make me feel better, to make sure I enjoyed my stay in her town. In this moment, that meant explaining everything she knew about Jews in Albania.
A view of the exterior of the Solomoni Museum, the country’s only museum about its Jewish history. (Naomi Tomky)
Jews first arrived in the country as Roman captives, almost 2,000 years ago. But the first major wave, especially to Berat, came from Spanish Jews fleeing the Inquisition. The Ottoman Empire, which ruled the area at the time, offered nominal religious freedom.
This month, the country’s prime minister announced plans to open a museum in Tirana dedicated to the stories of Albanian citizens who sheltered Jews during the Holocaust, when the country was occupied by both fascist Italy and later Nazi Germany. Yad Vashem, Israel’s Holocaust remembrance authority, has recognized at least 75 Albanians as Righteous Among the Nations for saving Jews.
“You can see the street where the Jews lived,” the docent noted. I perked up and jotted down her directions.
Six blocks away, I found a simple black plaque with white lettering, barely the size of my forearm and posted high on a white brick wall. It read, “Rruga Hebrentje.” I stared at it. Two millennia of Jewish history in the country, and one closed museum forced me to take heart in a little sign saying “Jew Street.”
A sign in Berat, Albania, reads Rruga Hebrentje, or Jew Street. (Naomi Tomky)
Jews have company in this razing of history: The brutal post-World War II communist regime of dictator Enver Hoxha shuttered all religious institutions in 1967, declaring Albania the world’s first atheist state. His forces destroyed more than 2,000 mosques, churches and other sacred buildings, arresting priests, clerics and imams, many of whom disappeared forever into labor camps and hidden graves. “Religion is the opium of the people,” Hoxha wrote, quoting Karl Marx.
It felt selfish to pout about the lack of Jewish history when so much religion, so many people and huge swaths of Albanian culture had been so recently and violently erased. I joined my friends to explore Berat’s exceptions to the wanton destruction, starting at the Sultan’s Mosque, which dates to the 15th century and boasts an intricately carved wooden ceiling. We expected to admire just the outside, since our guidebook said the doors opened only around Friday prayer.
But as we stared at the somewhat ordinary façade, a friendly gentleman chatted us up. He spoke Albanian, Greek and a bit of Italian, the last of which proved useful at matching up to our Spanish and French. He told us a little about the mosque and the casual styles of observance by most Albanian Muslims, but we only realized he worked there when he invited us inside, retrieving a key when we responded with excitement.
We marveled at the green, red and gold ceiling, illuminated by a round chandelier. He asked if we wanted to climb up the minaret, warning us about the ascent. Narrower than the width of my hips, the tightly coiled spiral of 94 stairs featured a layer of dust and cobwebs that stuck to our bare feet. But at the top, swallowing my fear of heights, confined spaces and bugs, I reaped the reward: a 360-degree view of the “thousand windows” that give the town its nickname, flanking both banks of the Osumi River, and the double eagle of Albania’s red flag flying proudly above it all from the castle.
A view of the ceiling inside the Sultans Mosque in Berat. (Naomi Tomky)
Back on the ground, we thanked the man profusely and dropped donations in the box outside the mosque door as we prepared to say goodbye. Instead, he led us across the square to another building – the Halveti Tekke, or Teqe. Light flowed through the high stained-glass windows onto the walls of the 700-year-old gathering place belonging to the mystic order of Sufi Muslims called Bektashi. Chains hung from the ornate gold-leaf-decorated ceiling over a space where, according to our new friend, the bektashi, or dervishes, used to perform their whirling rituals.
“You want to go up?” he asked my friend’s eight-year-old daughter. She nodded excitedly, and he tossed her a ring of keys, pointing the way to the balcony. As she climbed the stairs, I noticed a pair of six-pointed stars framing the main doorway, a reminder of my original mission, even if they were likely not Stars of David.
But if I felt sad about missing out on the Jewish museum, I was heartened by what I did receive: a first-hand lesson on Albania’s life-saving culture of hospitality.
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Forverts podcast, episode 7: Purim
דער פֿאָרווערטס האָט שוין אַרויסגעלאָזט דעם זיבעטן קאַפּיטל פֿונעם ייִדישן פּאָדקאַסט, Yiddish With Rukhl. דאָס מאָל איז די טעמע „פּורים“.
אין דעם קאַפּיטל לייענט שׂרה־רחל שעכטער פֿאָר אַן אַרטיקל פֿונעם אַרגענטינע־געבוירענעם ייִדיש־אַקטיוויסט דניאל גלאַי, „ווען מײַן מאַמע און מומע האָבן זיך אַרויסגעגנבֿעט צום פֿאַרבאָטענעם קאַרנאַוואַל“, וואָס איר קענט אַליין לייענען דאָ און אַ צווייטן אַרטיקל פֿון איציק גאָטעסמאַן, „ווי ייִדן האָבן געפּראַוועט פּורים אין מיזרח־אייראָפּע פֿאַרן חורבן,“ וואָס איר קענט לייענען דאָ.
צו הערן דעם פּאָדקאַסט, גיט אַ קוועטש דאָ.
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How Christian Zionism explains Mike Huckabee’s expansive view of Israel’s borders
In a recent interview with Tucker Carlson, U.S. Ambassador to Israel Mike Huckabee went viral for claiming that Israel has the right to control much of the Middle East based on the Bible — what may have been one of the clearest expressions of Christian Zionism by an American diplomat.
In the interview, which took place during Carlson’s recent visit to Israel, Carlson, who has routinely questioned the U.S.-Israel dynamic, asked Huckabee about whether he believes Israel has the right to all the land God promised the Jews in the Bible. Citing scripture, Carlson described the territory as stretching from the Nile to the Euphrates, “essentially the entire Middle East.”
Huckabee replied, “it would be fine if it took it all,” but clarified several times that Israel is not seeking to do so, stating: “They’re not asking to go back to take all of that, but they are now asking to at least take the land that they now live in, they now occupy, they now own legitimately, and it is a safe haven for them.”
Later in the interview, Huckabee referred to his remarks as “somewhat of a hyperbolic statement” and subsequently took to X to say that his comments were edited and taken out of context by Carlson. He said that Carlson had asked him “as a former Baptist minister about the theology of Christian Zionism.”
While Huckabee’s statements on Tucker Carlson may not have aligned with official U.S. policy, they were consistent with the theological worldview he has articulated for years — one rooted in Christian Zionism, a movement that sees the modern state of Israel as the fulfillment of biblical prophecy. For some believers, the modern state of Israel is viewed as a prerequisite for the second coming of Jesus. Many adherents cite the Abrahamic covenant in Genesis — “I will bless those who bless you” — as a theological mandate to support Israel. Others frame their support less in apocalyptic terms and more in the language of shared “Judeo-Christian” heritage.
While Huckabee is the first evangelical Christian to serve as U.S. ambassador to Israel, the Christian Zionist movement he is part of has a formidable political and financial infrastructure within the United States and has become a major force in the U.S.–Israel relationship.
Growing Groups
Christian Zionism has been one of the most reliable pillars of pro-Israel sentiment in American politics for decades. A 2025 survey by the Pew Research Center found that seven in ten white evangelical Christians has a favorable view of Israel, compared with approximately half of Americans who have an unfavorable view. Another study found that U.S. evangelicals are as supportive of Israel as they were before the Gaza war.
Israeli leaders have openly acknowledged that support. Ron Dermer, former Israeli ambassador to the U.S. and a close advisor of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, once called evangelicals “the backbone of Israel’s support in the United States.”
That support goes far beyond positive sentiment. The International Fellowship of Christians and Jews, which Huckabee has been affiliated with, says it has raised $3.6 billion for Israel since 1983, with 92% of its donors identifying as Christian. In 2023, the organization raised more money than AIPAC or the ADL. Another major organization, Christians United for Israel, founded in 2006 by Texas pastor John Hagee, claims 10 million members, a figure larger than the total Jewish population of the United States.
A 2018 investigation by Haaretz estimated that evangelical organizations raised between $50 million and $65 million from 2008 to 2018 for projects in the West Bank.
The movement has also maintained a physical presence in Jerusalem. The International Christian Embassy Jerusalem was founded in 1980 after several foreign embassies left the city in protest of Israel’s declaration of Jerusalem as its capital. The embassy hosts annual gatherings during the Jewish holiday of Sukkot that draw thousands of evangelical pilgrims, and it funds assistance programs for Jews who wish to immigrate to Israel, emergency aid, housing for Holocaust survivors, and other initiatives.
The Christian Broadcasting Network, an evangelical news network that reaches millions of viewers worldwide, operates a dedicated Jerusalem bureau that “offers a biblical and prophetic perspective to the daily news events that shape our world.”
Huckabee, a former Baptist minister and Arkansas governor, has long existed within this ecosystem and is one of Christian Zionism’s most visible public figures. He has said that he has visited Israel over 100 times and was among the evangelical leaders who advocated for President Donald Trump to move the U.S. embassy from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem in 2018, a decision widely celebrated within Christian Zionist circles. In 2018, Huckabee laid ceremonial bricks in the settlement of Efrat as a symbol of support.
He has also made controversial statements regarding the West Bank, stating in 2017, “There is no such thing as a West Bank. It’s Judea and Samaria. There’s no such thing as a settlement. They’re communities, they’re neighborhoods, they’re cities. There’s no such thing as an occupation.”
Personal theology vs. diplomacy
During Huckabee’s Senate confirmation hearing, Huckabee described the U.S.–Israel relationship as “not geopolitical” but “also spiritual,” stating that “to deny that would be to make it very difficult for us to ever understand how to go forward in a relationship with them.” He also acknowledged that while he had previously supported the possibility of Israeli annexation of the West Bank, his duty as ambassador would be to carry out the president’s policy rather than set it.
His interview with Carlson hearkened back to that moment and the tension between Huckabee’s role as an ambassador and his personal convictions.
The Trump administration has repeatedly stated that the United States does not support formal Israeli annexation of the West Bank. That position is tied in part to Trump’s effort to expand the Abraham Accords, the normalization agreements between Israel and several Arab and Muslim-majority states. Potential future participants — most notably Saudi Arabia — have explicitly conditioned normalization on credible steps toward a two-state solution, a framework that annexation would almost certainly undermine.
In response to Huckabee’s interview, more than a dozen Arab and Muslim-majority governments, joined by major regional bodies including the Organization of Islamic Cooperation, the Arab League, and the Gulf Cooperation Council, issued a joint statement condemning Huckabee’s remarks. The statement described his comments as “dangerous and inflammatory” and said they “directly contradict the vision put forward by U.S. President Donald J. Trump” and the Comprehensive Plan to End the Gaza Conflict. Just three days before the statement’s release, many of those same governments had met in Washington for the inaugural meeting of the Board of Peace and pledged significant funding to the initiative.
According to reports, members of the Trump administration sought to reassure those governments that Huckabee’s comments reflected his personal views rather than official U.S. policy.
For his part, far-right Israeli Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich — a supporter of West Bank annexation — posted Saturday on X, riffing on a movie title: “I (heart) Huckabee.” And no wonder: last year the ambassador had declined to oppose plans for a large West Bank settlement Smotrich had declared “will bury the idea of a Palestinian state,” with Huckabee declaring it “incumbent on all of us to recognise that Israelis have a right to live in Israel.”
Trump, however, has said he opposes annexation of the West Bank, reflecting growing rifts in the U.S. and even his own supporters, with the rise of a Christian Nationalist movement that includes many at odds with Christian Zionism.
At the same time, generational shifts within the republican party suggests an uncertain future for Christian Zionism. A recent study found that 20% of Republicans overall believe the United States is providing too much military aid to Israel. The generational divide is pronounced: 27% of Gen Z Republicans say the U.S. is giving too much aid, compared with 16% among Republicans in the Silent, Baby Boomer, and Generation X cohorts. Influential figures within this camp — including Candace Owens, Tucker Carlson, and Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene, and on the more extreme fringe, Nick Fuentes — have gained prominence in part by criticizing the scope of U.S. support for Israel.
For now, however, the evangelical Christian Zionist movement remains deeply embedded in American politics. With Huckabee in the ambassador’s residence, that worldview occupies an official diplomatic post.
The post How Christian Zionism explains Mike Huckabee’s expansive view of Israel’s borders appeared first on The Forward.
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Trump has no vision for what comes next in the Middle East
Buried within the long, maudlin, combative, occasionally moving and never modest verbiage of President Donald Trump’s Tuesday State of the Union address was this uncomfortable truth: Trump has no idea what comes next in the Middle East.
In discussing two conflicts that have drawn intense attention over the past year — those in Gaza and Iran — he offered a downright confusing picture of what the future has to offer.
When the president finally touched on foreign policy, after he had already been speaking for nearly an hour and a half, he credited himself with ending eight wars — a figure that’s worth questioning.
“The war in Gaza, which proceeds at a very low level, it’s just about there,” he said.
The Gaza war is over, maybe
There is no doubt Gaza is closer to peace than it was when Trump took office. The deal he forged between Israel and Hamas is so far the greatest foreign policy accomplishment of his second term.
But “just about there?”
Israel has killed about 600 Palestinians, including many civilians, since the ceasefire. Meanwhile, Hamas has not disarmed, and in fact, according to the Times of Israel, has begun inserting itself in new Trump-backed governing bodies in Gaza.
More than 80% of the structures in the Strip were destroyed in the conflict that began when Hamas attacked Israel on Oct. 7, 2023. Rebuilding will take many years, and billions of dollars. Of the 200,000 temporary housing units humanitarian agencies estimate the enclave needs, only 4,000 have been delivered or on their way.
The much-heralded Trump peace plan, in other words, is on shaky ground.
That explains why Trump thanked Hamas, as he has done in previous speeches this month, for helping to find the bodies of dead hostages.
“Believe it or not, Hamas worked along with Israel,” Trump said, “and they dug and they dug and they dug. It’s a tough, tough thing to do, going through bodies all over, passing up 100 bodies, sometimes for each one that they found.”
Why not mention that Hamas wouldn’t have had to do such hard, noble work if it hadn’t attacked and killed Israelis in the first place? Because the odd compliment — thanking murderers for returning their victims’ bodies — was Trump playing to reality. If his signature diplomatic initiative is to succeed, he needs Hamas and its patrons to go along. So far, the group is stalling when it comes to disarmament. If he can’t persuade them to take that step, his signature peace effort is done for.
An awareness of just how treacherous this situation is explains why Trump’s Gaza comments focused largely on his success at negotiating the return of Israel’s hostages, both living and dead.
“And those parents who had a dead son,” Trump said, “they always told me that boy, they wanted him as much as though he were living.”
Trump didn’t offer a vision, as he has in the past, of a prosperous Gaza; of Saudi Arabia joining the Abraham Accords; and of Israel at peace with its neighbors. He didn’t even mention his pet initiative, the Board of Peace — surprising, given that the body met for the first time just last week. The Middle East has a way of lowering expectations, and in the State of the Union, Trump wasn’t selling anything but the successful return of the dead.
The Iran war that isn’t, yet
On Iran, Trump was, if possible, even more confusing.
The United States has sent its largest military force in decades to the Middle East, which means we are once again — maybe — on the verge of a Middle East war. But Trump’s case for conflict — and explanation of how things got to this point — was lackluster.
He claimed that Operation Midnight Hammer, the June 2025 U.S. strike on Iran’s nuclear facilities, “obliterated Iran’s nuclear weapons program.”
But evidently, a program that was “obliterated” is somehow, less than a year later, an imminent threat. In the very next sentence, Trump said Tehran is now trying to rebuild its nuclear facilities and develop missiles that could reach the United States. (The simpler and more factual explanation: actually, nothing got obliterated in the first place.)
While claiming that the Iranian regime recently killed 32,000 of its own people during nationwide protests — an exact death toll is still elusive — he offered the country a path to survival: give up nuclear weapons.
But what sounds like a clear demand really isn’t. Nuclear diplomacy takes a long time and great delicacy. Trump, who favors swift resolutions, has backed himself into a corner: The military is already there, and the world is waiting with baited breath.
Plus, Americans don’t want to go to war. Some 49% of Americans oppose an attack on Iran, with just 27% in support of one, according to a YouGov poll this month. Independents oppose the idea by 54%, and Republicans support it by only 58%.
What’s a president who has staked his second-term reputation on his ability to win big and make peace supposed to do?
For now, the lack of specificity gives Trump room to waffle on whether or not to go to war — and try to make a case for what specific, achievable aims he would have in doing so.
In a clear sign that he doesn’t yet have answers for those questions, Trump’s language on Tuesday sounded awfully familiar. “I will never allow the world’s number one sponsor of terror to have a nuclear weapon,“ he said. “My preference is to solve this problem through diplomacy.”
Compare that to former President Barack Obama’s 2012 State of the Union.
“Let there be no doubt: America is determined to prevent Iran from getting a nuclear weapon,” Obama said, “and I will take no options off the table to achieve that goal. But a peaceful resolution of this issue is still possible, and far better.”
Maybe Trump has a clear idea of what comes next for Gaza and Iran. Or maybe we’ve just gone back to the future.
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