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The Purim story starts in fear and ends in vengeance. Can America and Israel break that cycle?
(JTA) — Many people think of Purim as a children’s holiday — unadulterated joy, fun and merriment. But I have come to see it as a profound moral commentary on what it means to hold power, and a cautionary tale about what happens when we fail to do our part to break the cycle of violence when the power is in our hands to do it.
I have been living with my husband Rabbi Aryeh Cohen’s interpretation of Megillat Esther — the biblical book read on the holiday, which begins Monday evening at sundown — for more than 29 years now. It initially caught me off guard during a discussion while we were still dating, back in 1993: “You know, of course, that Purim is all about confronting the impossibility of redemption.” (Of course?!) In short, the king’s viceroy Haman decides capriciously that the Jews must be killed, and the king agrees. It is only after the Jewish heroine Esther marries the king and convinces him that her people do not deserve to be killed does he change the decree, and the Jews are saved. Redemption!
This happy ending is accompanied by another decree, however, in which the Jews are given permission to slaughter those who were going to slaughter them. To authorize this violent self-defense, the king takes the royal ring, a symbol of his authority, from the corpse of Haman and gives it to Esther’s Jewish cousin, Mordecai.
Writes Aryeh: “The question we are left with is this: In the next scene, the scene after the end of the megillah, who will get the ring then? … We suspect that another Haman will get the ring, then another Mordecai, forever.”
Visions of this unredeemed world were on view in recent days as we watched the multi-directional, free-flowing hate catching fire in America, in Israel and in the West Bank. These weeks leading up to Purim have felt all too much like the horrifying parts of the megillah: the reality of Jewish vulnerability in the face of mercurial antisemitism at its beginning; the wielding of Jewish power in a revenge fantasy at its end.
For me, this megillah started two weeks ago when two Jewish men — Persian, like Mordecai — were shot within a block or two of my Los Angeles house simply because they were Jewish men. The shooter had fallen into a conspiracy rabbit hole and believed that Jews had manufactured and released the COVID-19 virus in an attempt to target Asians. Thank God, both men will recover, and I hope that the shooter can recover from his own misguided hate, too. When politicians, media and others play with rhetorical fire and boost conspiracy theories, it lights the torches of vulnerable people, and we all get burned.
Then last week, I watched through waves of nausea as the end of the megillah was reflected in the West Bank, following the killings of Israeli brothers Hallel and Yagel Yaniv, by a Palestinian shooter. There, Jewish acolytes of Baruch Goldstein, who slaughtered 29 praying Palestinians 29 years ago on Purim, took a break from marauding in the Palestinian village of Huwara to offer their evening prayers. In the video that was circulating, the settlers were reciting the words of Kaddish, the prayer for the dead, sometime before or after a resident of nearby Zu’tara, Sameh Aqtash, was shot and killed. They were not reciting the Kaddish for him. Few participants in the pogrom have faced consequences. But the Israeli army has attacked Israelis protesting it.
There were other horrors in between, both here and there — and more since. Innocent Palestinians were killed and injured during military raids in the West Bank. A recent college graduate, the dual American-Israeli citizen Elan Ganeles, was shot to death as he headed to a friend’s wedding in Jerusalem.
And here in the United States, a “Day of Hate” called by far-right antisemitic group put Jews on alert throughout a recent Shabbat.
For these past weeks and months, it has felt like Jews are being squeezed between our vulnerability as Jews here in the United States and Israel and the contortion of Jewish power in Israel — quite literally in the case of the militant Itamar Ben-Gvir, Israel’s minister of national security, whose party is known as Otzma Yehudit, or Jewish Power.
On the eve of Purim we need to think about what it means to change the story — for everyone.
In the United States, that means building strong and deep relationships that keep us all safe. California state assembly member Isaac Bryan offered a model at a town hall following the shootings here, when he said that Black and Jewish solidarity looks like “thriving, safe, and healthy communities from Pico-Robertson to Leimert Park.” Bryan names the most identifiable Jewish and Black neighborhoods in Los Angeles to remind us that all Angelenos’ fates are connected. That if we show up for one another and ensure one another’s physical and economic safety and well-being, the city becomes a better place for all of us.
In Israel, it means recognizing that the Israeli government and those that have empowered it are currently “holding the ring” of power. If they continue to act with unrestrained power to terrorize and dispossess Palestinians, or simply allow settlers to do this with no repercussions, they fail to heed the words of Isaiah: “And when you lift up your hands, I will turn My eyes away from you; Though you pray at length, I will not listen. Your hands are stained with crime” (1:15).
When the Israeli nonprofits Tag Meir and Standing Together organized solidarity trips to Huwara last week, they were taking Isaiah’s admonition deeply to heart, refusing to turn their eyes and hearts away, walking toward the residents of Huwara and raising their voices against the settlers’ hate and violence. Tag Meir was founded to counteract settler “price tag” attacks, and shows up for both Palestinian and Israeli families who have been impacted by violence. Standing Together is a growing group of Israelis and Palestinian citizens of Israel who organize for change. Both are working to change the end of the megillah in Israel and the Palestinian territories.
In response to identity-based violent rhetoric, we must humanize those whom others would pit against us, while humanizing our own people, as well. There are many organizations that create spaces in which we can build relationships that create a variety of pathways for us to act on one another’s behalf, ensuring safety and dignity for one another. In solidarity, we can write a new ending to our megillah.
—
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These legendary magicians made their Jewish identities — poof! — disappear
Harry Houdini liked to tell people that he was the son of a rabbi, and although he was known for the tricks he played on audiences, that story was true.
The world-famous escape artist was born as Erik Weisz in Budapest to Rabbi Mayer Samuel and Cecelia Steiner Weisz. The whole family emigrated to Wisconsin in 1878.
Many magicians of the Golden Age of Magic, from roughly the 1850s through the 1930s, were Jewish. Estimates put the number as high as 20%. But audiences were unlikely to know it. Onstage, these performers often became someone else.
“Abracadabra,” a new exhibit at Amsterdam’s Jewish Museum highlights the biographies of these Jewish magicians. It reveals the extraordinary tricks they created and popularized, and suggests that they may have tried to escape antisemitism through their stage acts.
Titia Zoeter, who curated the exhibition with Joanne Rosenthal, said the simplest reason why Jews took up magic as a profession was that they were often barred from tradesman guilds and other professions. Magic offered a way to earn a living independently.
The exhibition focuses on a few key figures, like Houdini, Horace Goldin, the “Whirlwind Illusionist” (born Hyman Goldstein); the Bamberg family, which produced magicians Okito and Fu Manchu, as well as the married couple Alexander and Adelaide Herrmann who toured the globe as “Herrmann the Great” and the “Queen of Magic.”
“The fact that several major names from that era were Jewish was reason enough to dedicate an exhibition to this subject.” Zoeter said. “Through these magicians, we could tell a socio-cultural story about Jews and other migrant communities seeking security and building lives in places where opportunities were available to them.”
It’s not entirely clear why Jewish performers are overrepresented in the world of magic, Zoeter said, but it was in part because of the same factors that drew Jews into the performing arts, vaudeville and Hollywood. The stage offered not only a livelihood but a chance to adopt a new persona.
Houdini sometimes played down his Jewish roots, and often told people he’d been born in the United States, rather than Hungary. Adam Begley, author of the recent biography, Houdini: The Elusive American, described how Houdini married a non-Jewish woman, moved away from the orthodoxy of his youth, and sent out Christmas cards.
But he did not deny his Jewish background, and often talked about his father, the rabbi. Audiences long questioned whether the story was true. It wasn’t until 2016 that Mayer Samuel Weiss’s rabbinical ordination certificate was discovered in the Milwaukee County Historical Society.
“Houdini broke free from his history, maybe the history of Jewish persecution, because he became very well loved, popular and famous,” Zoeter said, “although he was a Jew.”
The Bamberg family started as court magicians in 18th century Holland, and the Dutch family went on to produce five more generations of magicians.
Tobias David Bamberg, who went by Theo, became the first global star of the Bamberg magicians at the end of the 19th century. At age 18, he created a Japanese-style act that he performed in Berlin, that he went on to alter over time. He invented tricks that he built himself, including a coin box and a disappearing wand.
Hans Klok, a well-known contemporary Dutch illusionist, inherited a collection of magic props from Okito some years ago, which he loaned to the Jewish Museum for the exhibition. The 25 Okito items on display include a confetti box, which magically turns confetti into silk handkerchiefs, as well as stage decorations, a scrapbook and family photos.
Okito fled to Latin America as World War II was approaching, and later moved to New York, where he opened a magic shop.
As the Orientalist character Fu Manchu, Theo’s son, David Tobias Bamberg, created shows full of spectacular illusions and also appeared in films and musicals.
Alexander Herrmann, a French magician who once performed for Abraham Lincoln, adopted a suave devilish look, complete with tuxedo and goatee, which later became a popular fashion choice for many other magicians. He became famous for levitating his wife, Adelaide, and also shooting her out of a cannon.
For some of these performers, these elaborate stage identities were a form of protection against antisemitism. Dressing in “exotic” clothes and pretending to be unable to speak English added to their mystique, and allowed them to avoid revealing their true identities.
Asian-themed costumes also served a practical purpose: Okito’s oversized kimono had sleeves wide enough to hide all kinds of vanishing objects.
The exhibition also explores the role of women in magic, not only as indispensable assistants, but also as solo performers. After her husband, Alexander, died, Adelaide Herrmann (who was not Jewish) went on to have a very successful career on her own for another 30 years.
Trained in aerial acrobatics and ballet, Herrmann (born Adelaide Scarcez in London to Belgian parents) performed illusions in which she appeared to cut off her own head, and to catch bullets between her teeth.
She also encouraged many other women into the world of magic, as a mentor and advocate.
“I shall not be content until I am recognized by the public as a leader in my profession,” she once said, “and entirely irrespective of the question of sex.”
The Holocaust claimed the lives of many Golden Age magicians, and forced others to flee Europe, often emigrating to the Americas. In 1933, when Hitler came to power, a German author and amateur, Guenther Dammann, put together a book of some of the best magicians of the Golden Age, “Die Juden in der Zauberkunst,” or “Jews in Magic.”
Many of the Jewish magicians profiled in this exhibition also appeared in his book, which is now considered a record of a lost era.
“Abracadabra” runs until March 29, 2027 at the Jewish Museum in Amsterdam.
The post These legendary magicians made their Jewish identities — poof! — disappear appeared first on The Forward.
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A poet’s reaction to this summer’s terrorist attack in Berlin
דעם 25סטן יולי איז דער פּאָעט דזשײק שנײַדער געפֿאָרן קײן װײַמאַר כּדי צו מאָדערירן אַ כּמו־טעלעװיזיע־פּראָגראַם אױף ייִדיש מיט דער אַקטריסע עלענאָר ריסאַ, אַן אונטערנעמונג אין משך פֿונעם פֿעסטיװאַל „ייִדיש־זומער װײַמאַר“. אױף מאָרגן איז ער אַהײמגעפֿאָרן קײן בערלין, װוּ ער האָט מאַרשירט אינעם יערלעכן שטאָלץ־פּאַראַד – אײדער אַ טעראָריסט האָט אַטאַקירט דעם פּאַראַד, דערמאָרדעט אײן פֿרױ און פֿאַרװוּנדיקט מער װי 30 מענטשן. אָט דער „פּאָעטישער באַריכט“ דאָקומענטירט כראָנאָלאָגיש זײַנע פֿראַגמענטאַרישע געדאַנקען און אײַנדרוקן פֿון דעם דאָזיקן מעת־לעת.
װאָס איז טײַטש „לײַװ“?
פֿון דזשייק שנײַדער
פֿאַרבײַגעגאַנגענע רעקלאַמעס׃
פֿאַרטאָפּלט אײַער עקראַנצײַט!
װערט אַ זעלנערין פֿאַר דײַטשלאַנד!
אײַער דירה־געלט איז צו טײַער!
איך דאַרף נאָך מסרן מײַן ראָװער־גנבֿ.
כאַפּן די פֿאַרלאָזלעך פֿאַרשפּעטיקטע באַן.
שױן זיצט מײַן סטודיאָ־עולם און װאַרט.
פּונקט אַזױ װי די װערטער פֿון דער װאָך.
אונטערװאַרטן, אָפּװאַרטן, צוּװאַרטן.
פּונקט אַזױ װי יאַנקלס נײַער װערטער־װידעאָ.
עס װאַרט אַ שיסל מיט ברױנע עם־ען־עמס.
איך האָב שױן אײן מאָל פּראָבירט דעם קלאַנג.
אַ שמועס־שעה אױף פֿאַרשטומטן ייִדיש.
אַ טעלעװיזיע־פּראָגראַם אָן טעלעװיזיעס.
אַ לעבעדיקע לאַכטאַשמע, דאַנקען גאָט.
„אונדזער עולם“ איז דאָך דאָ אין װײַמאַר.
איך דאַרף נישט איבערחזרן אױף כינעזיש.
פּאָסטקאַרטלעך פֿון װאַרשע, סאַו־פּאַולו.
אַכט מדינות… אָבער נישט דײַטשלאַנד.
עלענאָר באַװױנט אונדזער נישט־טעלעװיזיע.
ליבע־בריװ פֿונעם אונטערװעש־שופֿלאָד.
דאָס טײַערסטע קלײד פֿון אַ גאַנץ לעבן.
אַז מען דערמאָנט פֿראַנק לאָנדאָנען…
כּדי צו שטראָמען באַדאַרף מען נײַעס.
אַזאַ מין איצט באַדאַרף אַן איצטיקײט.
אַנישט קומט דער נעטפֿליקס־עפֿעקט.
אָן־סופֿיקע אַפֿישן אַדורכצובלעטערן.
בײַ ממשותדיקע נײַעס קומען שטױס־מעלדונגען.
די מאָבילקעס, טאַבלעטן און זײגערלעך װיברירן.
און שױן איז אונדזער שמועס־שעה פֿאַרבײַ.
שױן האָבן מיר געבענטשט עלעקרטישע ליכט.
געריסן די חלות, געגעסן די אוגערקעס.
אֵין כּל, אֵין כּל, אֵין כּל…. „טײַ“.
נישטאָ קײן צײַט פֿאַר אַ חצות בײַם טײַך.
די באַן פֿאָרט אומהײמלעך איצטיקיסטיש.
אינסטאַגראַם האָט פֿאַרגעסן זײַן ייִדיש.
שױן אַהײמגעפֿאָרן מיטן דינג־ראָװער.
שױן געגלעט מײַן הינטלס קאָנוס־קאָפּ.
שױן אָנגעטאָן מײַן בער־קאָסטיום.
שױן געפֿאָרן צום פּרײַד־לחײם.
שױן געקװעטשט אױפֿן נײַנטן קנעפּל.
שױן איבערגעקערט אַ טעלער מיט נאַשן.
שױן געהערט מעשׂיות פֿון נעכטן בײַ נאַכט.
שױן פּאָזירט אינעם יערלעכן באַלקאָנבילד.
אַלע טראָגן װי תּמיד די סאַמע מאָדישע זאָקן.
אַ פֿרײלעכן פּרײַד. פֿרײלעך צו זײַן פֿרײלעך.
אַראָפּ און אַרױס מיט די אַנדערע פֿײגעלעך.
אַן אַנדער שׂימחה־גרופּע װאַרט שױן אין דרױסן.
איך טאָר נישט קװעטשן דאָס פֿרײלעך־קנעפּל.
איך טאָר נישט נאַשן קײן שװאַמעלע־שאָקאָלאַד.
מיר יאָגן זיך נאָך די אַנטלאָפֿענע פּאַראַד־װאָגנס.
הײַיאָר פּראָקלאַמירט מען כּמו־פּאָליטישע לאָזונגען.
דעות זענען רײצנדיק. די „גוטע גבֿירים“ בלײַבן.
מיר מאַרשירן טאַנצעװדיק, טאַנצן מאַרשירעװדיק.
ס׳איז דער הױפּטשטראָם־פּרײַד, דער באַנאַלער.
נישט דער לעסבישער, נישט דער פּאַלעסטינישער.
מיר פֿאַרלירן אַ חבֿר אַלע פֿינף מינוט.
מיר װאַרטן אױפֿן קלאָזעט־הײַזעלע.
מיר האַלטן זיך אָפּ בײַ נאָלנדאָרף־פּלאַץ.
דאָרט אױבן אַרבעט מײַן צײנדאָקטער!
דאָרט װוּ עס הענגען די נחת־פֿענער!
אַ ביר פֿון אָרגאַנישן סופּערמאַרק.
כּדי אַרײַנצוגײן דאַרף מען זיך אָנטאָן.
איך דאַרף נאָך ענדיקן דאָס „לײַװ“-ליד.
איך דאַרף שפּאַצירן מיטן קאָנוס־קעפּל.
איך דאַרף נאָך שרײַבן עטלעכע רשימות.
קודם־כּל, פֿאַר װאָס נישט אַ שניצל?
די קיך פֿאַרמאַכט זיך צען אַ זײגער.
מיר באַשטעלן אין דער לעצטער מינוט.
מיר עסן דאָס אױסגעפּלאַטשיקטן פֿלײש.
מיר שפּאַצירן אַהײם דורך די געסלעך.
צװײ פֿײגעלעך פֿון אַ גאַנץ יאָר מיט אַ הינטל.
שױן קומען די שטױס־מעלדונגען.
שױן שטײען מיר אױף דער שװעל.
איך דאַרף זיך שױן „מעלדן בשלום“.
איך דאַרף נאָך מעלדן מײַן ראָװער.
איך דאַרף נאָך ענטפֿערן אױף די בריװלעך.
צי בין איך בשלום? װער איז בלשום?
די מלחמה קעגן מלחמות איז אױס.
עס בלײַבן אונדז בלױז מײנונגען.
יעדער אײנער האָט זײַן אָפּרוף.
יעדער אײנער האָט זײַנע דעות.
יעדער אײנער האָט קלוגע פּירושים.
װער זשע װיל זײַן אין די נײַעס?
בערלין קײן װײַמאַר קײן בערלין, 26-25 יולי
The post A poet’s reaction to this summer’s terrorist attack in Berlin appeared first on The Forward.
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These Bundist pioneers were heroes in their time. Would they be in ours?
Academic stars in high school, Abrasha Blum and Luba Bielecka shared a slow burn romance and fervor for radical change. That hardly set them apart amid the ferment after the tsarist empire crumbled in 1919. No one would have predicted that Bielecka would go on to be awarded global nursing’s highest honor and Blum Poland’s equivalent of the Congressional Medal of Honor.
But their story poses a provocation in today’s hyper-polarized politics: Blum and Bielecka were devoted Bundists, and as such, they were not only socialists but anti-Zionists.
That combination can get you labeled today as anti-Israel and antisemitic, and even anti-American. Yet at the time they were Jewish heroes.
Bielecka repeatedly risked her life smuggling children out the Warsaw ghetto under Nazi occupation while directing the sole Jewish nursing school, sustaining its rigorous professional standards even as it was squashed into oblivion. Blum, a physically frail man, was dubbed the “ideological father of armed resistance” in the Bund; he led his band of militants into joining forces with the detested Zionists in the historic Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. When the insurgency was crushed — as all the combatants knew it would be — Blum, an engineer by training, led the surviving remnant through the cavernous sewer system to safety. But soon thereafter, in fleeing the police, he plummeted three stories from an apartment building. Badly injured, he was taken to Gestapo headquarters and never seen again.
Blum and Bielecka engaged the world as they found it and fought for justice for Jews and humanity. Blum’s photo is on display at Yad Vashem, Jerusalem’s Holocaust museum.
A lot has changed in 85 years. In 1939, most Americans Jews opposed Zionism and feared it would be misused by antisemites to justify allegations of dual loyalty. At the time, twice as many Jews lived in Warsaw as in all of British Palestine. The Bund swept 17 of 20 Jewish-designated seats on city council (Blum held one of them), far outdistancing all the Zionists parties together. Socialism made sense to Jewish voters, who were overwhelmingly “blue collar.” And so did doikayt (“hereness”), the doctrine that Poland’s three million Jews belonged there, not in a far-off desert, as the Zionists maintained.
The Holocaust radically and irrevocably changed the landscape. Ninety percent of Polish Jewry was exterminated. Even after the Nazis were vanquished, Jews continued to endure pogroms and were largely purged from Poland’s ruling communist party. By then, Israel was the sole destination in the world that welcomed large numbers of Jews.
Blum and Bielecka’s daughter, 17-year-old Aviva (née Victoria), was among the pioneers who migrated to a kibbutz in the new State of Israel. Zionism offered her the promise of milk and honey in a sanctuary free of antisemitism.
For years, her younger brother, Olek, held fast to his parents’ politics. But he too ultimately exited Poland, not for Israel but for the US, saddened that his father’s dream of “a prosperous Jewish minority inside Poland was impossible to realize.”
Like their parents, Aviva and Olek too engaged the post-WWII world as they found it and sought a better world.
Today, socialism and anti-Zionism are each experiencing something of a revival in the U.S. Self-described socialists have won mayoral elections in New York, Seattle and Washington, D.C. DSA-supported candidates won the Senate Democratic primary in Florida and narrowly lost Wisconsin’s gubernatorial primary. A recent CBS News poll found that 58% of Democrats now hold a favorable view of socialism, whereas only 32% view capitalism positively. The gap is even wider among young people. Jews, despite their relative affluence, remain among the most liberal voters in the U.S., although their current views on socialism have not been scientifically surveyed.
Anti-Zionism looks quite different in 2026 than in 1939, at least to Jews. Israel, approaching its 80th anniversary, is far from the desert mirage ridiculed by pre-war Bundists. While only a minority of American Jews self-describe as Zionists, an overwhelming majority support Israel as a Jewish and democratic state. Yet they are deeply troubled by Israel’s direction: Polls show that Zohran Mamdani, a socialist and anti-Zionist, is more popular among American Jews than Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.
We’re left with this thought experiment: What if Abrasha and Luba resided in America today? What would they view as justice and how would they engage to achieve it? What if they resided in Israel?
And finally, a question about the rest of us: Would we recognize them as heroes?
The post These Bundist pioneers were heroes in their time. Would they be in ours? appeared first on The Forward.
