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The hora, the hora! How Jewish wedding music got that way
(JTA) — When my wife and I were planning our wedding, we thought it might be cool to hire a klezmer band. This was during the first wave of the klezmer revival, when groups like The Klezmatics and The Klezmer Conservatory Band were rediscovering the genre of Jewish wedding music popular for centuries in Yiddish-speaking Eastern Europe.
Of course we also wanted to dance to rock ‘n’ roll and needed musicians who could handle Sinatra for our parents’ benefit, so we went with a more typical wedding band. Modernity won out over tradition.
Or did it? Musician and musicologist Uri Schreter argues that the music heard at American Jewish weddings since the 1950s has become a tradition all its own, especially in the way Old World traditions coexist with contemporary pop. In a dissertation he is writing about the politics of Jewish music in the early postwar period, Schreter argues that American Jewish musical traditions — especially among secularized Conservative and Reform Jews — reflect events happening outside the wedding hall, including the Holocaust, the creation of Israel and the rapid assimilation of American Jews.
That will be the subject of a talk he’ll be giving Monday for YIVO, titled “Yiddish to the Core: Wedding Music and Jewish Identity in Postwar New York City.”
Because it’s June — and because I’m busy planning a wedding for one of my kids one year from now — I wanted to speak to Schreter about Jewish weddings and how they got that way. Our Zoom conversation Wednesday touched on the indestructibility of the hora, the role of musicians as “secular clergy” and why my Ashkenazi parents danced the cha-cha-cha.
Born in Tel Aviv, Schreter is pursuing his PhD in historical musicology at Harvard University. He is a composer, pianist and film editor.
Our conversation was edited for length and clarity.
I was struck by your research because we’re helping to plan a child’s wedding now. It’s the first wedding we’ve planned since our own, and we’re still asking the same questions, like, you’ve got to make sure the band can handle the hora and the Motown set and, I don’t know, “Uptown Funk.” Your research explores when that began — when American Jewish weddings began to combine the traditional and secular cultures.
In the period that I’m talking about, post-World War II America, this is already a fact of life for musicians. A lot of my work is based on interviews with musicians from that period, folks now in their 80s and 90s. The oldest one I have started playing professionally in 1947 or ’48. Popular American music was played at Jewish weddings as early as the 1930s, but it’s a question of proportion — how much the wedding would feature foxtrots and swing and Lindy Hop and other popular dance tunes of the day, and how much of it is going to be klezmer music.
In the postwar period, most of the [non-Orthodox] American Jewish weddings would have featured American pop. For musicians who wanted to be in what they called the “club date” business, they needed to be able to do all these things. And some “offices” — a term they used for a business that books wedding bands — would have specialists that they could call on to do a Jewish wedding.
You’re writing about a period when the Conservative movement becomes the dominant American Jewish denomination. They have one foot in tradition, and the other in modernity. What does a wedding look like in 1958 when they’re building the big suburban synagogues?
The difference is not so much denominational but between the wide spectrum of Orthodoxy and the diverse spectrum of what I describe as “secular.”
Meaning non-Orthodox — Reform, Conservative, etc.?
Right. Only in the sense that they are broadly speaking more secular than the Orthodox. And if so they are going to have, for the most part, one, maybe two sets of Jewish dance music — basically a medley of a few Jewish tunes. You might have a wedding where it could be a quarter of the music or even half would be Jewish music, but this would be for families that have a much stronger degree of attachment to traditional Jewish culture, and primarily Yiddish culture.
There’s a few interrelated elements that shape this. Class is an important thing. For lower class communities in some areas, and I am talking primarily about New York, you’d have communities that are a little bit more secluded, probably speaking more Yiddish at home and hanging out more with other Jewish people from similar backgrounds. So these kinds of communities might have as much as a third or half of the music be Jewish, even though they consider themselves secular. It’s actually very similar to an Orthodox wedding, where you might also have half and half [Jewish and “American” music].
Jews in the higher socioeconomic class might, in general, be more Americanized, and want to project a more mainstream American identity. They might have as little as five minutes of Jewish music, just to mark it that they did this. Still, it’s very important for almost all of them to have those five minutes — because it’s one of the things that makes the wedding Jewish. I interviewed couples that were getting married in the ’50s, and a lot of them told me, “You need to have Jewish dance music for this to be a Jewish wedding.”
Composer and pianist Uri Schreter is pursuing his PhD in historical musicology at Harvard University. (Nicole Loeb)
When I was growing up in the 1970s at a suburban Reform synagogue on Long Island, klezmer was never spoken about. I don’t know any parents who owned klezmer albums. Then when I got married a decade later, it was in the middle of the klezmer revival. Am I right about that? Were the ’50s and ’60s fallow periods for klezmer?
You’re definitely right. Up until the mid-1920s, you still have waves of immigration coming from Eastern Europe. So you still have new people feeding this desire for the traditional culture. But as immigration stops and people basically tried to become American, the tides shift away from traditional klezmer.
The other important thing that happens in the period that I’m looking at is both a negative rejection of klezmer and a positive attraction to other new things. Klezmer becomes associated with immigrant culture, so people who are trying to be American don’t want to be associated with it. It also becomes associated with the Holocaust, which is very problematic. Anything sounding Yiddish becomes associated for some people with tragedy.
At the same time, and very much related to this, there’s the rise of Israeli popular culture, and especially Israeli folk songs. A really strong symbol of this is in the summer of 1950, when the Weavers record a song called “Tzena, Tzena,” a Hebrew Israeli song written in the 1940s which becomes a massive hit in America — it’s like number two in the Billboard charts for about 10 weeks. Israeli culture becomes this symbol of hope and the future and a new society that’s inspiring. This is all in very stark contrast to what klezmer represents for people. And a lot of the composers of Israeli folk song of its first decades had this very clearly stated ideology that they’re moving away from Ashkenazi musical traditions and Yiddish.
So the Jewish set at a wedding becomes an Israeli set.
At a typical Conservative wedding in the 1950s and ’60s, you might hear 10 minutes of Jewish music. The first one would be “Hava Nagila,” then they went to “Tzena, Tzena,” then they would do a song called “Artza Alinu,” which is today not very well known, and then “Hevenu Shalom Aleichem.” They are songs that are perceived to be Israeli folk songs, even though if you actually look at their origins, it’s a lot murkier than that. Like two of the songs I just mentioned are actually Hasidic songs that received Hebrew words in pre-state Palestine. Another probably comes from some sort of German, non-Jewish composer in 1900, but is in Hebrew and is perceived to be a representation of Israeli culture.
But even when the repertoire already represents a shift towards what’s easier to digest for American Jewry, the arrangements and the instruments and the musical ornamentation are essentially klezmer. The musicians I spoke to said they did this because they felt that this is the only way that it would actually sound Jewish.
That is to say, to be “Jewish” the music had to gesture towards Ashkenazi and Yiddish, even if it were Israeli and Hebrew. As if Jews wanted to distance themselves from Eastern Europe — but only so far.
Someone like Dave Tarras or the Epstein Brothers, musicians who were really at the forefront of klezmer in New York at the time, were really focused on bringing it closer to Ashkenazi traditions. Ashkenazi Jewish weddings in America are not the totality of Jewish weddings in America, and Israeli music itself is made up of all these different traditions — North African, Middle Eastern, Turkish, Greek — but in effect most of the really popular songs of the time were composed by Ashkenazi composers. Even “Hava Nagila” is based on a melody from the Sadigura Hasidic sect in Eastern Europe.
Of course, if you’re a klezmer musician you’re allergic to “Hava Nagila.”
Then-Vice President Joe Biden dances the hora with his daughter Ashley at her wedding to Howard Krein in Wilmington, Delaware on June 2, 2012. (White House/David Lienemann)
You spoke earlier about Latin music, which seemed to become a Jewish thing in the 1950s and ’60s — I know a few scholars have focused on Jews and Latinos and how Latin musical genres like the mambo and cha-cha-cha became popular in the Catskill Mountain resorts and at Jewish weddings.
Latin music is not exclusively a Jewish thing, but it’s part of American popular culture by the late 40s. But Jews are very eagerly adopting it for sure. In the Catskills, you would often have two separate bands that alternated every evening. One is a Latin band, one is a generic American band playing everything else. And part of that is American Jews wanting to become American. And how do you become American? By doing what Americans do: by appropriating “exotic” cultures, in this case Latin. This is a way of being American.
Jews and Chinese food would be another example.
And by the way, in a similar vein, it also becomes very popular to dance to Israeli folk songs. A lot of people are taking lessons. A lot of people are going to their Jewish Y to learn Israeli folk dance.
I’ve been to Jewish weddings where the “Jewish set” feels very perfunctory — you know, dance a hora or two long enough to lift the couple on chairs and then let’s get to the Motown. Or the Black Eyed Peas because they were smart enough to include the words “Mazel Tov!” in the lyrics to “I Gotta Feeling.”
So that’s why we always hear that song! I will say though, even when the Jewish music appears superficial, it does have this deeper layer of meaning. It’s very interesting how, despite all these changes, and despite the secularization process of American Jewish weddings, the music still connects people to their Jewishness. These pieces of music are so meshed with other religious components. Of course, most people see this as secular. But a lot of people connect to their Jewish identity through elements such as Jewish music, Jewish food, certain Jewish customs that are easier to accommodate in your secular lifestyle, and the music specifically has this kind of flexibility, this fluidity between the sacred and the profane.
That’s beautiful. It sort of makes the musicians secular clergy.
It’s interesting that you say that. In his history of klezmer, Walter Zev Feldman refers to the klezmer — the word itself means “musician” — as a kind of a liminal character, an interstitial character between the secular and the mundane. The music is not liturgical, but when the klezmer or the band is playing, it is an interval woven with all these other religious components and things that have ritual meaning.
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Reshaping the Diaspora: Israeli Migration Is Changing Jewish Life Across Europe
Pro-Israel demonstrators gathered at Bebelplatz in central Berlin on Nov. 30, 2025, before marching toward the Brandenburg Gate. Participants held Israeli flags and signs condemning rising antisemitism in Germany. Photo: Michael Kuenne/PRESSCOV/Sipa USA via Reuters Connect
Even as antisemitic incidents across Europe reach levels unseen in decades following Hamas’s Oct. 7, 2023, massacre across southern Israel, Jews and Israelis continue to move to the very cities where Jewish identity feels most fraught — creating an unlikely, though often uneven, pattern of demographic renewal at the heart of today’s Jewish diaspora. It is a quiet shift that persists against all odds: growth where fear might suggest retreat.
Despite an increasingly hostile social and political climate, Jewish life in much of Europe is not shrinking. In some places, it is holding steady — and in others, growing. Indeed, according to recent demographic reports, Israeli immigrant communities in Europe are among the fastest-growing Jewish communities in the world.
In Berlin, Hebrew can be heard on park benches and in co-working spaces. In Amsterdam, Jewish schools report steady enrollment and new Hebrew-speaking parents arriving each semester. In London cafés, Israeli students trade WhatsApp groups for housing and internships, while British Jewish institutions describe newcomers who arrive anxious but eager to build communities. Meanwhile, new Chabad houses continue to open across the continent.
Today, Europe is home to nearly 30 percent of all Israelis living outside the country — roughly 190,000 to 200,000 people — with their population steadily increasing across the continent, according to a report from the Institute for Jewish Policy Research (JPR).
JPR data shows that Israel-born Jews now make up nearly 50 percent of the Jewish population in Norway, 41 percent in Finland, and over 20 percent in Bulgaria, Ireland, Spain, and Denmark.
Over the past decade, the number of Israeli-born Jews has grown significantly in Baltic countries (135 percent), in Ireland (95 percent), in Bulgaria (78 percent), in the Czech Republic (74 percent), in Spain (39 percent), in the Netherlands (36 percent), in Germany (34 percent), and in the UK (27 percent).
Europe today is witnessing both rising antisemitism and a growing presence of Israelis — a dynamic that upends long-held assumptions about Jewish life on the continent and challenges popular narratives about Jewish “safety” and migration in the post-Oct. 7 era. Demographers, Jewish leaders, and recent residents describe a moment defined not by disappearance, but by movement, recalibration, and — in some places — cautious renewal.
“You can really see the growth in recent years,” said Shai Dotish, who lives in Berlin and serves as the director of community development at Israeli Community Europe (ICE) — a nonprofit organization dedicated to supporting Israeli immigrants in 16 cities across the continent. “Our Shabbat dinners keep getting bigger, services are fuller, events are livelier. You can feel a vibrant, thriving Jewish life across the cities we serve.”
A Post–Oct. 7 Europe Transformed
The paradox is clear: antisemitism has reached levels not seen in decades, yet European Jewish communities are being stabilized — and in some cases subtly grown — by Israeli arrivals. Europe today hosts more Israel-born Jews than ever before, and many are arriving even as hostility rises.
“There’s no denying the risk and rising antisemitism, but Jewish life isn’t shrinking — it’s growing,” Doitsh told The Algemeiner, adding that ICE is even opening new centers in other European countries to meet higher demand for community services.
This quiet influx is unfolding against one of the most challenging climates European Jews have faced in the 21st century.
Governments and Jewish security organizations across the continent have documented a dramatic rise in anti-Jewish hate crimes since the Oct. 7 atrocities. Germany recorded more than 2,000 antisemitic incidents in 2024 — nearly double pre-Oct. 7 levels. While Germany’s Jewish population has grown in some urban centers, the rise in antisemitic crimes has prompted heightened security in schools, synagogues, and community hubs.
In the UK, the Community Security Trust (CST) — a nonprofit charity that advises Britain’s Jewish community on security matters — recorded 1,521 antisemitic incidents from January to June this year. This was the second-highest number of antisemitic crimes ever recorded by CST in the first six months of any year, following 2,019 incidents in the first half of 2024.
Last month, hundreds of anti-Israel demonstrators gathered outside St. John’s Woods Synagogue in London to protest the war in Gaza. In widely circulated social media videos, protesters are seen chanting, “We don’t want no two states, Palestine 48,” and “From the river to the sea, Zionism is f– treif.”
France presents a similar pattern. According to the French Interior Ministry, the first six months of 2025 saw more than 640 antisemitic incidents, a 27.5 percent decline from the same period in 2024, but a 112.5 percent increase compared to the first half of 2023, before the Hamas-led invasion of southern Israel.
Across the country, Jewish families have reported removing mezuzot, changing children’s school routes, and avoiding synagogues unless armed security is present.
In France, rising antisemitism and economic factors have led to slight declines in the number of Jewish households, particularly in Paris and Marseille. While French Jews continue to live, work, and participate in communal life, emigration to Israel and other European countries slightly outpaces arrivals.
Smaller European nations — including Spain, Belgium, and Central/Eastern European states — have seen modest Israeli migration, sometimes doubling small local communities.
Amid this increasingly fraught climate, Doitsh said a real sense of vulnerability persists, affecting people’s daily lives as community members and families take new precautions about where they go and what they wear.
For the first time in years, ICE-sponsored events across multiple countries have even had to introduce security. He also noted that organizers are changing event locations and keeping addresses private.
“The community is now dealing not only with antisemitism but with violence, hostility, and open hatred. Many people feel unsafe in their daily lives,” Dotish said.
Yet fear has had a counterintuitive effect: strengthening community life.
“Antisemitism has reinforced community ties,” said Professor Sergio DellaPergola, chairman of JPR’s European Demography Unit and a leading scholar of Jewish population studies. “People seek solidarity and connection. When they feel vulnerable, they look for their own community.”
The Truth Behind the Numbers: An Uneven Trend
Though Israeli-born Jewish communities in Europe have grown substantially in recent years, the trend remains complex and uneven throughout the region.
“This is not a moment of large waves of Jewish migration,” Dr. Daniel Staetsky, senior research fellow at JPR, told The Algemeiner. “What we are observing are moderate but meaningful movements, and they vary significantly by country.”
While the total Jewish population in Europe may not be growing substantially in absolute number, its composition is changing dramatically. This shift reflects two interconnected trends: the demographic decline of native European Jews and the rising number of Israeli Jews relocating to the continent. Even modest arrivals can have a significant impact against the backdrop of an aging Jewish population.
“In Western Europe, immigration from Israel has helped stabilize Jewish populations and, in some cases, create slight increases,” DellaPergola told The Algemeiner. “But these increases occur against a background of demographic decline, especially in countries like Germany and Italy, where fertility is very low.”
In other words, Israeli immigration helps keep European Jewish populations stable, masking the underlying decline of “native” communities where low fertility would otherwise shrink the absolute number of Jews.
Western European nations such as Germany and the Netherlands have seen their Jewish numbers bolstered in recent years by Israelis seeking economic opportunities, academic programs, and, paradoxically, a sense of stability.
In Germany, Israeli arrivals are concentrated in Berlin, Frankfurt, and Munich. Hebrew-language classes and Jewish cultural programming have expanded, stabilizing what would otherwise be a declining population due to low fertility. Security concerns remain elevated, but the communities themselves report renewed energy.
In the Netherlands, slow but steady Israeli immigration helps counterbalance demographic decline. Amsterdam schools, synagogues, and youth programs increasingly rely on this influx.
“Immigration from Israel has played a stabilizing role for countries like the Netherlands,” Staetsky said. “It is not large enough to reverse aging or lower fertility, but it slows decline and creates demographic balance.”
Meanwhile, Britain’s Jewish community has remained largely steady at around 313,000, compared with approximately 300,000–320,000 a decade ago.
According to a 2018 JPR study, high birthrates among Haredi Orthodox Jews are responsible for the recent growth in the number of British Jews after decades of decline. Births in the British Jewish community have reportedly exceeded deaths every year since 2006, implying “Jewish demographic growth in the United Kingdom.”
France’s Jewish population, at roughly 438,500 today, was estimated to be over 500,000 in the mid-2010s — a gradual decline tied in part to emigration and rising antisemitism.
Eastern European Jewish communities, particularly in the Baltics, are also shrinking due to low fertility and ongoing migration, as increasing numbers make aliyah to Israel.
DellaPergola told The Algemeiner that this trend reflects long-term structural factors rather than a sudden ideological shift.
“There is a dynamic flow,” he said. “Many Israelis move to Europe, but simultaneously many European [Jews] move to Israel. You have arrivals and departures, and the result in most countries is relative stability.”
However, DellaPergola also acknowledged that the war in Israel has dramatically altered migration patterns.
In 2024, approximately 80,000 Israelis left the country while only 24,000 returned, creating an unprecedented negative migration balance of almost 58,000 people, according to the Israeli Bureau of Statistics.
“I expect this trend to continue into 2025, marking a second consecutive year of negative migration, something unprecedented,” DellaPergola said.
Some of these emigrants may be responsible for the recent growth of Israeli communities in Europe, according to Staetsky.
Earlier this year, a study by the Israel Democracy Institute found that over one in four Israelis are contemplating leaving the country, pointing to the high cost of living, security and political concerns, and “the lack of a good future for my children” as key factors. Of those considering emigration, the European Union is the top destination (43 percent), surpassing North America and Canada (27 percent).
A Demographic Paradox
Staetsky emphasized that most Jewish migration today is not driven by ideology or fear alone.
“Migration trends reflect a balance of economic and social considerations,” he told The Algemeiner. “People move where they believe opportunity is strongest.”
Europe’s future as a Jewish center is far from assured. Fertility rates across the continent remain low. Political volatility is rising. Trust in public institutions varies sharply by country. For many Israeli families abroad, Europe is not necessarily a permanent destination but part of a global career trajectory.
This uncertainty is not abstract. For some Israelis living in Europe, it has become deeply personal. Take the case of Benjamin Birley — an Israeli Jew living in Rome and a social media influencer — whose experience lays bare the strain many Jews say they now feel in their everyday lives.
Birley came to Italy to pursue a doctoral degree and has spent the past several years there. But he says the climate has shifted sharply, with the Israeli–Palestinian conflict seeping into daily interactions in ways he describes as “unbearable.” Even though he must return to finish his program, he has decided to leave Europe temporarily and go back to Israel “to get some fresh air and breathe.”
“Italy in general has a lot of anti-Israel sentiment,” Birley told The Algemeiner. “There is just a relentless Palestinianism that is always in the media, in the culture, in your local café.”
“If you’re Jewish or Israeli and you’re openly Jewish or Israeli in Italy, you have to be prepared for endless conversations and debate and hostility with random people who literally have no idea what they’re speaking about. And for me that was just not a sustainable way to live,” he said.
DellaPergola cautioned against long-term predictions. “I believe it is not worth making projections given the difficult and uncertain times European Jewish communities are experiencing,” he said.
If there is a takeaway, it is not a grand demographic narrative but a more complex and human one: Israelis and Jews are weighing fear against opportunity, identity against mobility, history against present-day realities. They are choosing Europe not because it is uniquely safe, but because it still offers possibility — even amid threat.
The story of Jews in Europe after Oct. 7 is not retreat. It is one of presence and a quiet reshaping of diaspora patterns in a world where the old certainties no longer hold.
While Europe’s Jewish future remains uncertain, it is being rewritten, not erased.
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Students Form ‘Human Swastika’ at California High School, Post Image With Hitler Quote
Students forming “human swastika.” Photo: Screenshot.
Eight students at Branham High School in the city of San Jose came together last week to form what police described as a “human swastika” on the campus’ football field in another disturbing antisemitic incident at a California K-12 school.
The students captured the moment in a photograph and later posted it to social media, captioning it with a quote by Adolf Hitler.
Authorities in San Jose have launched a hate crime investigation into the incident, according to local media outlets.
School officials denounced the students’ actions.
“Our message to the community is clear: this was a disturbing and unacceptable act of antisemitism,” Branham High School principal Beth Silbergeld said in a statement. “Many in our community were rightly appalled by the image. Personally, I am horrified by this act. Professionally, I am confident that our school community can learn from this moment and emerge stronger and more united.”
According to the Bay Area Jewish Coalition (BAJC), which supports the local Jewish community,
“This incident did not occur in isolation,” BAJC spokesperson Tali Klima told The Algemeiner on Tuesday. “Over the past two years, we have seen a troubling pattern in which Jews are increasingly demonized and targeted. While the circumstances differ from those of Nazi Germany, the common thread is the deliberate spread of harmful narratives.”
Klima continued, “The fact that eight students felt emboldened to engage in this hateful behavior on campus (and then post publicly) reflects an educational environment that has allowed extremist political agendas which are blatantly antisemitic into our schools. The district and state must take decisive action to restore a climate of tolerance, respect, and inclusion for Jewish students and the broader community.”
California’s state government recently approved legislation for combating K-12 antisemitism which called for establishing a new Office for Civil Rights for monitoring antisemitism in public schools, appointing an Antisemitism Prevention Coordinator, setting parameters within which the Israeli-Palestinian conflict may be equitably discussed, and barring antisemitic materials from the classroom.
State lawmakers introduced the measure, also known as Assembly Bill (AB) 715, in the California legislature following a rise in antisemitic incidents, including vandalism and assault. The list of outrages includes a student group chanting “Kill the Jews” during an anti-Israel protest and partisan activists smuggling far-left, anti-Zionist content into classrooms without clearing the content with parents and other stakeholders.
Elsewhere in California, K-12 antisemitism has caused severe psychological trauma to Jewish students as young as eight years old and fostered a hostile learning environment, as previously reported by The Algemeiner.
In Berkeley United School District (BUSD), teachers have allegedly used their classrooms to promote antisemitic stereotypes about Israel, weaponizing disciplines such as art and history to convince unsuspecting minors that Israel is a “settler-colonial” apartheid state committing a genocide of Palestinians. While this took place, high level BUSD officials allegedly ignored complaints about discrimination and tacitly approved hateful conduct even as it spread throughout the student body.
At Berkeley High School (BUSD), for example, a history teacher forced students to explain why Israel is an apartheid state and screened an anti-Zionist documentary, according to a lawsuit filed last year by the Louis D. Brandeis Center for Human Rights Under Law and the Anti-Defamation League (ADL). The teacher allegedly squelched dissent, telling a Jewish student who raised concerns about the content of her lessons that only anti-Zionist narratives matter in her classroom and that any other which argues that Israel isn’t an apartheid state is “laughable.” Elsewhere in the school, an art teacher, whose name is redacted from the complaint for matters of privacy, displayed anti-Israel artworks in his classroom, one of which showed a fist punching through a Star of David.
In September 2023, some of America’s most prominent Jewish and civil rights groups sued the Santa Clara Unified School District (SCUSD) in California for concealing from the public its adoption of ethnic studies curricula containing antisemitic and anti-Zionist themes. Then in February, the school district paused implementation of the program to settle the lawsuit.
One month later, the Louis D. Brandeis Center for Human Rights Under Law, StandWithUs, and the ADL filed a civil rights complaint accusing the Etiwanda School District in San Bernardino County, California, of doing nothing after a 12-year-old Jewish girl was assaulted, having been beaten with stick, on school grounds and teased with jokes about Hitler.
Antisemitism in K-12 schools has increased every year of this decade, according to data compiled by the ADL. In 2023, antisemitic incidents in US public schools increased 135 percent, a figure which included a rise in vandalism and assault.
California is not alone in dealing with the issue. Pennsylvania has a significant K-12 antisemitism problem as well, a fact acknowledged recently by a surrogate of the administration of Gov. Josh Shapiro following Congress announcing an investigation into antisemitism in the School District of Philadelphia (SDP) and a disturbing anti-Israel statement at a high school in the Wissahickon School District.
“Governor Shapiro takes a back seat to no one on these issues, and as he has repeatedly spoken out about antisemitism, and this kind of hateful rhetoric is unacceptable and has no place in Pennsylvania — especially not in our classrooms,” Rosie Lapowsky, a spokesperson for Shapiro, said in a statement first shared with Fox News Digital. “This is a matter the governor has made clear the district needs to take very seriously.”
Follow Dion J. Pierre @DionJPierre.
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Jewish Groups Slam Basque Government for Honoring Anti-Israel UN Rapporteur Francesca Albanese
Francesca Albanese, UN special rapporteur on human rights in the Palestinian territories, attends a side event during the Human Rights Council at the United Nations in Geneva, Switzerland, March 26, 2024. Photo: REUTERS/Denis Balibouse
Jewish communities in Spain and France have condemned the Basque government’s decision to award UN Special Rapporteur Francesca Albanese a human rights honor, citing her long record of making antisemitic remarks, promoting anti-Jewish hatred, and seemingly legitimizing Hamas’s terrorist attacks on the Jewish state.
Last week, the government of the Basque Region in northern Spain announced that Albanese will receive the 2025 René Cassin Human Rights Award, named after French Jewish human rights and Zionist activist René Cassin – author of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.
“Through her work at the United Nations, Francesca Albanese has played a key role in exposing human rights violations, challenging impunity, and advocating for the effective enforcement of international norms that protect people in conflict and occupied territories,” the announcement read.
Albanese’s work “is marked by legal rigor, independent judgment, and a strong ethical commitment that should guide all those working to uphold human rights on the international stage,” it continued.
In a joint statement on Monday, the Federation of Jewish Communities in Spain (FCJE) and the Representative Council of Jewish Institutions of France (CRIF) denounced the decision, arguing it undermines the principles that Cassin stood for.
“René Cassin, author of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, Nobel Peace Prize laureate, and fervent defender of justice, held an unwavering commitment to peace, human dignity, and the right of the Jewish people to live in security,” the statement read.
“Awarding this prize to Ms. Albanese constitutes a distortion of Cassin’s legacy and a serious misunderstanding of the values of human rights,” it continued.
Communiqué conjoint – La Fédération des Communautés Juives d’Espagne @fcjecom et le Conseil Représentatif des Institutions Juives de France (Crif) expriment leur profond désaccord avec l’attribution, par le Gouvernement basque, du Prix René Cassin 2025 des droits de l’Homme à…
— CRIF (@Le_CRIF) December 5, 2025
Albanese is set to receive the award at a ceremony on Wednesday in Bilbao, a city in northern Spain.
The World Jewish Congress (WJC) also condemned the Spanish government’s decision, voicing support for the Jewish communities in Spain and France and calling the move “deeply troubling.”
“Albanese has repeatedly advanced narratives that minimize or excuse violence against Jews and has a documented record of antisemitic rhetoric,” WJC posted on X.
The Basque Government’s decision to award the 2025 René Cassin Human Rights Prize to Francesca Albanese is deeply troubling. Albanese has repeatedly advanced narratives that minimize or excuse violence against Jews and has a documented record of antisemitic rhetoric.
We support… https://t.co/ZT5QfOgzpa
— World Jewish Congress (@WorldJewishCong) December 5, 2025
Despite objections from several governments including France, the United Kingdom, Germany, Canada, and the Netherlands, as well as numerous NGOs, Albanese was reappointed earlier this year for a three-year term amid concerns about her controversial remarks and alleged pro-Hamas stance.
Since taking on the role of UN special rapporteur on human rights in the Palestinian territories in 2022, Albanese has been at the center of controversy due to what critics, including US and European lawmakers, have described as antisemitic and anti-Israel public remarks.
In the months following Hamas’s Oct. 7, 2023, massacre across southern Israeli communities, Albanese accused Israel of perpetrating a “genocide” against the Palestinian people in revenge for the attacks and circulated a widely derided and heavily disputed report alleging that 186,000 people have been killed in Gaza as a result of Israeli actions.
She has also previously made comments about a “Jewish lobby” controlling America and Europe, compared Israel to Nazi Germany, and stated that Hamas’s violence against Israelis — including rape, murder, and kidnapping — needs to be “put in context.”
Last year, the UN launched a probe into Albanese for allegedly accepting a trip to Australia funded by pro-Hamas organizations.
In the past, she has also celebrated the anti-Israel protesters rampaging across US college campuses, saying they represent a “revolution” and give her “hope.”