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‘There was no time to sleep’: 4 Jews reflect on a year of helping Ukrainians at war
(JTA) — In the months after Russian tanks rolled into her country last February, the music largely stopped for Elizaveta Sherstuk.
The founder of a Jewish choral ensemble called Aviv in her hometown of Sumy, in the northeastern flank of Ukraine, Sherstuk had to put singing aside in favor of her day job and personal mission: delivering aid to Jews in Sumy.
“There was no time to sleep,” Sherstuk recalled to the Jewish Telegraphic Agency recently. “All my team members worked the same, 24/7.”
A year later, Sherstuk is still hustling as the Sumy director of Hesed, a network of welfare centers serving needy Jews in the former Soviet bloc. But she has also begun teaching music classes again, too — with performances sometimes held in bomb shelters.
Catch up on all of JTA’s Ukraine war coverage from the last year here.
Sherstuk’s story reflects the ways that Russia’s war on Ukraine has affected Jews in Ukraine and beyond. The conflict has killed hundreds of thousands, left even more in peril and fundamentally altered the landscape and population of Ukraine, forcing millions to flee as refugees.
But the war has also mobilized the networks of Jewish aid and welfare groups across Europe, leading to a Jewish organizational response on a massive scale not seen in decades. And Ukrainian Jews who have remained in the country have recalibrated their lives and communities for wartime.
Here are four stories about Jews who stepped in and stepped up to help, and a taste of the on-the-ground situations they found themselves in.
‘I was needed there’
Enrique Ginzburg, second from right, is shown with Ukrainian doctors in Lviv. (Courtesy of Ginzburg)
Since nearly drowning at 23, Dr. Enrique Ginzburg has felt he “had to pay back” for the extra years of life he was granted.
Now 65, the professor of surgery at the University of Miami’s Miller School of Medicine and its trauma division has lent his critical care expertise in Haiti, Argentina, Kurdistan and Iraq, in various emergency situations. But until last year, he had never been to a war zone.
The Cuba native felt drawn to Ukraine because his grandfather is from Kyiv, while his grandmother is from nearby eastern Poland. So early on in the conflict, he called Dr. Aaron Epstein, an old friend and the founder of the nonprofit Global Surgical and Medical Supply Group.
“Get yourself a flak jacket, a helmet, a gas mask and come on over,” Ginzburg said Epstein told him.
He has been to Ukraine twice under the nonprofit’s auspices, last April and July. Ginzburg’s explanation for why he flew across the world to put himself in danger: “I was needed,” he said.
His base was an emergency hospital in Lviv, a city located west enough that it became a major refugee hub. He consulted with front-line Ukrainian physicians, many of them young and inexperienced, and hospital administrators, watching the doctors in action. He also visited patients in hospital wards and helped to treat gunshot wounds and assorted combat injuries.
Ginzburg’s bags were packed with meaningful supplies. Some had been requested by his Ukrainian colleagues for medical use, mostly specialized catheters. But he also brought tefillin, the phylacteries used by Jews in their morning prayers. Ginzburg, who studied in a yeshiva while young but no longer considers himself Orthodox, wrapped them every day while in Ukraine.
Even though Lviv was far from the fighting, he could hear air raid sirens and the explosion of the Russian missiles, sometimes feeling the earth shake. When intelligence reports warned Ginzburg’s medical team of impending missile attacks, they sought refuge in safe houses.
“Today,” he told the Miami Herald last June, “I was calling my life insurance [company] because I have young sons and my wife, so I’m trying to make sure I have good coverage.”
By the end of his trips, Ginzburg lost count of the number of doctors he helped train and the number of patients he saw. “I’m sure it’s hundreds.” He plans to make a third trip sometime this year.
‘This is our new reality’
Karina Sokolowska is the director of the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee’s activities in Poland. (Courtesy of the JDC)
As the director of the JDC, or the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee, in Poland, Karina Sokolowska has heard countless harrowing stories over the past year. But one sticks out in her memory.
It involved an elderly Ukrainian couple she met at the Poland-Ukraine border in late spring. The husband was in a wheelchair, and Sokolowska helped push him — back towards Ukraine. They had spent three months in a shelter in Poland but eventually “realized we cannot go looking for jobs, we cannot restart our lives. We are too old,” the woman said.
“If they are to die, they’d rather die back home,” Sokolowska said. “It’s a story of hopelessness. They are so vulnerable.”
Last year, about 8 million Ukrainian refugees made their way to Poland, the bordering country that accepted the most refugees. Early on in the conflict, Sokolowska contacted and visited Jewish communities throughout Poland, investigating the availability of places where the soon-to-be-homeless refugees could be housed. She also traveled to some of the border crossings where the Ukrainians entered, to arrange transportation to venues in Poland and to oversee the conditions in which the refugees would begin their new lives.
Later she would help with, among other things: arranging legal advice for the people who arrived with few identification documents; lining up medical care and drugs; finding them short- and long-term housing; connecting them to psychological counseling; providing kosher meals; and even caring for the refugees’ pets (“dogs and cats with no documents”).
According to JDC statistics, the organization “provided essential supplies and care” to 43,000 Jews in Ukraine and “aided 22,000+ people” there with “winter survival needs … more than double the amount served in previous years.” The welfare organization also claimed to provide “life-saving services” to more than 40,000 refugees in Poland, Moldova, Romania, Hungary, Bulgaria and other European locations. It also helped evacuate about 13,000 Jews from Ukraine. (Israeli Foreign Minister Eli Cohen recently said 15,000 Ukrainian Jews in total have immigrated to Israel since the start of the war.)
Karina Sokolowska, JDC director for Poland and Scandinavia sits in her office down the hall from a hotline room, in early March 2022. (Toby Axelrod)
At the height of the refugee flood, Sokolowska said her monthly JDC budget ballooned to more than what she previously spent in an entire year. Her office went from having a few employees to over 20. The amount of sleep she got decreased in tandem; she started taking sleeping pills to get rest when she could.
“This is our new reality” in Poland, she says of the JDC work with Ukrainian refugees. “This is our life now.”
Sokolowska, the granddaughter of Yiddish-speaking Holocaust survivors, became active in Jewish life during college, when a classmate heard her pronouncing some German words with a Yiddish accent and persuaded her to lead the Polish Union of Jewish Students. As JDC director for Scandinavian countries in addition to Poland, she typically organizes educational conferences and helps Jewish families learn about traditions they had not learned while growing up in the communist era.
Today, her sense of optimism has been ground down.
“Everything changed when war came to Ukraine — there is less hope,” Sokolowska said. “It’s a totally new everything. Every aspect of our life changed. Our hope for this to be over soon is going down, down, down. Nothing will change.”
‘It could [have been] me’
Tom and Darlynn Fellman volunteered in Krakow in October 2022. (Courtesy of Tom Fellman)
Sometime in the late 1890s, Harry Fellman, about 20 years old, left his home in Ukraine. According to family legend, he was a sharpshooter in the Ukrainian army and was about to be sent into active combat. Instead, he emigrated to the United States and settled in Omaha, Nebraska, where he became a peddler.
His grandson Tom Fellman — whose middle name is Harry — doesn’t know all the 120-year-old details, but he knows that he is grateful that Harry Fellman decided to leave Ukraine when he did.
“It could [have been] me, if my grandparents had not left when they did,” said Fellman, a successful real estate developer and philanthropist in Omaha.
In October, at 78 years old, Fellman made the reverse trip across the Atlantic to pitch in to the relief effort. He also wanted to pay what he sees as a debt to the memory of his late grandfather and to help the current generation of Ukrainian Jews.
He and his wife Darlynn served as volunteers for a week at the Krakow Jewish community center, joining hundreds (possibly thousands) of volunteers from overseas who have gone to Poland and the other nations in the region over the last year to participate in humanitarian programs on behalf of the millions of Ukrainian refugees. Fellman worked nine hours a day with a half-dozen fellow foreign volunteers in the basement of the community center, transferring the contents of “big, big” sacks of items like potatoes and sugar into small containers to be distributed to refugees in the building’s first-floor food pantry. His wife spent her time in an art therapy program that was set up for the refugee mothers and children to raise their spirits.
Fellman is “not particularly religious” but supports “anything Jewish.” In 1986, he accompanied a rescue mission plane of Soviet Jews headed to Israel. “It was the most rewarding experience of my life,” he recalled.
Fellman says he plans to return to Poland, in June, for the JCC’s annual fundraising bike ride from Auschwitz to Krakow.
What did his friends think of his septuagenarian volunteer stint? “They thought it was cool,” he said. “But none of them are going too.”
‘Everything was a risk’
Elizaveta Sherstuk runs a branch of Hesed, a network of welfare centers, in Sumy, Ukraine. (Courtesy of Sherstuk)
Sherstuk’s parents would have sent their daughter to a Jewish school in her early years if they had had the option. But Jewish education was not permitted In Sumy during the final years of communist rule in the Soviet republic. Sherstuk was exposed to Jewish life only at home.
Her parents infused her with a Jewish identity, she said, and her grandparents used to talk and sing songs in Yiddish. That inspired Sherstuk’s first career as a singer and a music teacher, during which she founded Aviv and took it on tour throughout the region singing traditional Jewish songs. Later, she became the director of Sumy’s branch of the JDC-funded Hesed network.
Sumy, an industrial city with a population of 300,000 before the war situated only 30 miles from the Russian border, was one of Russia’s first targets. In the days before the pending invasion, Sherstuk stockpiled food, which was certain to become scarce in case of war, and arranged bus transportation to safer parts of the country for hundreds of vulnerable civilians, mostly the elderly and disabled. The bus plan fell through for safety issues.
As the bombing started, it became dangerous for members of the local 1,000-member Jewish community, many of them elderly, to venture outside of their apartments. Sherstuk, working out of a bomb shelter, assisted by a Hesed network of volunteers, coordinated food and medicine deliveries.
The situation grew more dire, and she coordinated the Jewish community’s participation in a brief humanitarian corridor evacuation of vulnerable civilians that the Russians permitted. She communicated with Sumy residents mostly by smartphones provided by the JDC — the Russian attacks had cut the landlines — and accompanied the busloads of Sumy Jews to western Ukraine. Some of them eventually moved on to Israel, Germany, or other nearby countries, she said.
Sherstuk stayed in western Ukraine for a while (“The humanitarian corridors are only for one-way trips,” she noted), moving from place to place, keeping in touch with the Jews of Sumy and waiting for Ukraine’s army to make the trip back safe. But Sumy, like many Ukrainian cities, has come under frequent Russian rocket attack.
“Everything was a risk,” she said. “We were following whatever our hearts told us to do. We had to save people. I was the one who had to do it.”
Last May, Sherstuk was among 12 men and women (and the sole one from the Diaspora) who lit a torch at the start of Israel’s Independence Day in a government ceremony on Mount Herzl. During two weeks in Israel, she spent some time with members of her family, and held a series of meetings with JDC officials, government ministers and donors. “It was not a vacation,” she said.
After going back to Sumy, at the suggestions of her choral group members and fellow Sumy residents, she organized concerts in Hebrew, Yiddish, Ukrainian and Russian — some in person, some in a bomb shelter in the city’s central square, some online. She has now resumed her music classes, too, and it has all boosted morale. “I [teach] all the time,” she said.
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The post ‘There was no time to sleep’: 4 Jews reflect on a year of helping Ukrainians at war appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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Why J Street’s New Policy Initiative Is Seriously Misguided
Israel’s Iron Dome anti-missile system intercepts rockets, as seen from Ashkelon, Israel, Oct. 1, 2024. Photo: REUTERS/Amir Cohen
We live in a time when synagogues and Jewish-sponsored events are under violent attack from London to Bondi Beach, to Temple Israel in Michigan.
At such a moment, efforts by J Street to see US military aid to Israel stopped are not just misguided; they are profoundly irresponsible.
On April 13, J Street posted a statement on its website titled, “Reassessing the US-Israel Security Relationship.”
J Street said, “The United States should phase out direct financial support for arms sales to Israel and treat Israel as it does other wealthy US allies.”
J Street did say (at the end of the statement) that, “The United States should continue to sell short-range air and ballistic missile defense (BMD) capabilities to Israel.”
But is that part just a way for them to play both sides if they need to? Otherwise, why make this charge (at the beginning of the statement): “Section 502B of the Foreign Assistance Act prohibits security assistance to any country whose government engages in a consistent pattern of gross violations of internationally recognized human rights.”
Also alarming is how J Street deliberately misrepresents the positions of people who want to end direct military aid to Israel: “A responsible and relatively rapid phase-out of all financial assistance, including for ballistic missile defense, is now supported by figures from across the political spectrum, such as Prime Minister Netanyahu, Senator Lindsey Graham …”
However, neither Netanyahu or Graham have made statements that fit J Street’s flawed approach and dishonest narrative.
The truth is that when interviewed by The Economist, Netanyahu stated, “I want to taper off the military within the next 10 years.” How can J Street say that “the next 10 years” is the same as “relatively rapid”?
And on January 9 on X , Graham tweeted the following: “The aid we have provided to Israel has been a great investment keeping the IDF strong, sharing technology, and making their military more capable – to the benefit of the United States.” Graham went further saying, “we need not wait ten years,” but nowhere did Graham say he was for ending all military assistance while Israel is at war.
You’ll often hear from J Street, and other critics of Israel, that American aid is a “blank check.” It isn’t. US military assistance to Israel is governed by agreements and legal frameworks that require much of that funding to be spent on American-made defense systems.
In practice, that means a significant share of the aid flows back into the US economy — supporting domestic manufacturing, defense jobs, and technological development. You can debate the policy. But calling it a blank check is simply inaccurate — and yet the phrase persists because it fits a far too often preferred anti-Israel narrative. And it’s very hard to believe that J Street does not understand this reality, even as it advances that framing.
There is a huge difference in the strategic relationship that America has with Israel than any of its other allies. Israel offers America military support, intelligence, and operational experience that is unparalleled. Yet J Street’s advocacy to curtail or condition aid ignores the depth and mutual benefit of that partnership, reducing a complex alliance to a one-sided transaction.
The Iron Dome and David’s Sling — key components of Israel’s multi-layered missile defense system — are battle-proven in real-world conditions. The United States has directly benefited from Israeli innovation in missile defense, counterterrorism, and battlefield medicine. No US ally in any corner of the world has contributed to America’s defense in such an immediate and practical way. And that should mean we debate aid to Israel differently than aid to allies who don’t give us those tangible benefits.
Efforts by J Street to target funding for these systems are not abstract policy debates; they would weaken tools that save civilian lives and inform US defense capabilities.
President Truman recognized the State of Israel on May 14, 1948, just minutes after Israel declared independence. Of course, this had something to do with the Holocaust. What’s more, the very fact that Israel is encircled by Iranian terrorist proxies that seek to destroy it, that so many nations refuse to even recognize its right to exist, and that Iran is struggling to preserve its nuclear program are all reasons that dictate that there is something inherently different about its situation compared to its neighbors. And that should be taken into account when debating and deciding on US policy.
This is not about silencing debate. It is about grounding that debate in facts, history, and the real-world consequences of policy choices. At a time of rising threats, weakening a proven alliance and undermining defensive systems like Iron Dome does not advance peace or security — it puts both at risk.
Positions like these help explain J Street’s limited support within the American Jewish community — and why its views must be scrutinized and challenged.
Moshe Phillips is national chairman of Americans For A Safe Israel, AFSI, (www.AFSI.org), a leading pro-Israel advocacy and education organization.
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A View From Campus: Universities Are Failing to Protect Debate While Claiming to Defend It
The administration building at the University of Manitoba. Photo: Wiki Commons.
Universities are meant to be spaces where ideas are debated and challenged, but they are also institutions that set the rules for how students participate.
That authority comes with responsibility — but in recent years, administrators have applied their standards unevenly, particularly when protests around Israel and the Palestinians turn disruptive.
Codes of conduct exist because universities believe behavior within their communities should be governed by certain standards. Universities rely on this principle across campus life, yet when protests cross into disruption or intimidation, they often fail to enforce it.
Faced with these realities, masked protesters have repeatedly violated codes of conduct without consequence — for instance, occupying and vandalizing Columbia’s Hamilton Hall in 2024, blocking Jewish students at Yale encampments, and chanting antisemitic slogans at Berkeley rallies. Meanwhile, in the United Kingdom, screenings documenting the October 7 attacks have required heavy police protection simply to proceed, reflecting an environment in which disruption is anticipated rather than prevented.
These incidents share a common thread: universities reacting to disorder instead of enforcing the baseline conditions that would allow events to occur without intimidation in the first place.
Protest itself is not the problem. The problem arises when demonstrations cross into disruption or intimidation, and institutions fail to enforce the basic rules that protect students and ensure equal access.
One clear example of this inconsistency is how universities handle anonymity during protests. On many campuses, protestors routinely wear masks or face coverings — even when directly engaging with others or disrupting organized events. In theory, anonymity can protect individuals from retaliation. In practice, it removes accountability.
Instead of taking responsibility and addressing the protesters’ behavior adequately, universities have often shifted the burden onto the students.
Jewish and pro-Israel groups are frequently required to coordinate security, accept police presence, or modify events simply to proceed. In some cases, programming continues under heavy supervision; in others, it is quietly scaled back, relocated, or cancelled entirely.
Events that should be educational experiences become exercises in risk management, with students navigating logistical hurdles and hostile crowds rather than engaging in meaningful dialogue.
I saw this firsthand at an event featuring former Israeli soldiers last year. Although the event was initially intended to be on campus, the threat of violence instigated by anti-Zionist protestors “convinced” the only University of Manitoba pro-Israel student group to move it away from the school.
This still didn’t stop around 50 protesters, many masked, from showing up at the new venue to harass and almost assault attendees. Thankfully, there was enough of a police presence to keep everyone safe.
Instead of demanding that certain events have armed guards, administrators should reflect on why some of their students need them in the first place just to voice their opinions. They should ask themselves what they have signaled, intentionally or not, about which behaviors will be tolerated and which will not.
Their inconsistent enforcement has clearly increased the likelihood of harm and discourages students from participating at all.
Universities need to shift their approach to responsibility, and concrete action is required.
Universities should publish clear protest guidelines that address anonymity, define disruption, and outline consequences that are consistently enforced, and then enforce them.
Security requirements should be transparent and scaled to the actual risk level of an event. When an event requires heightened security, violations of conduct aimed at disrupting or preventing it should carry proportionately stronger consequences. Disruptions and disciplinary outcomes should also be publicly reported to ensure accountability.
If universities want to be taken seriously as places of open inquiry, they need to do more than defend debate. They must protect the conditions that make debate possible. Right now, those conditions are eroding not because campuses lack authority, but because they have chosen not to use it when it matters most.
Police can only do so much; universities themselves have a responsibility to ensure that campus culture allows everyone to participate without fear of intimidation or interference.
Adam Katz is a 2025-2026 CAMERA on Campus fellow and a political science and history student at the University of Manitoba.
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PA Court Rules: Terrorists Must Get Pay-for-Slay Salaries — No Exceptions
A Palestinian Hamas terrorist shakes hands with a child as they stand guard as people gather on the day of the handover of Israeli hostages, as part of a ceasefire and a hostages-prisoners swap deal between Hamas and Israel, in Rafah in the southern Gaza Strip, Feb. 22, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Ramadan Abed
The Palestinian Authority (PA)’s Pay-for-Slay policy is now widely and publicly acknowledged.
PA officials have refused to say whether they will appeal a Palestinian court ruling earlier this week that ordered Pay-for-Slay to be resumed to a jailed terrorist who filed a lawsuit after it was suspended.
The ruling sets a legal precedent for the immediate resumption of salaries of 1,600 jailed terrorists who had them suspended last year even while salaries continued for thousands of other jailed terrorists, including through shifting the manner of payment, hidden means, or otherwise.
According to an article in the UK Arab news website Al-Araby Al-Jadeed, the Court found the PA’s Pay-for-Slay law is still in effect:
The Independent Commission for Human Rights (‘Public Complaints Commission’) [parentheses in source] in Palestine relied on the decision of the Ramallah Administrative Court, which was issued yesterday, Monday, [May 4, 2026,] in order to cancel the cessation of the salary payment of prisoner minor Ahmed Firas [PMW was unable to determine the details of his crimes -Ed.], …and with the aim of ending the salary crisis of approximately 1,600 prisoners [i.e., terrorists] whose salaries were stopped.
These salary payments were halted three months after Palestinian [PA] President Mahmoud Abbas issued a presidential decree, according to which the allowances of the Palestinian prisoners being paid by the PA were transferred to the Palestinian National Economic Empowerment Institution [PNEEI; refers to Abbas’ revision of “Pay-for-Slay,” see note below -Ed.]…
Yesterday, the Ramallah Administrative Court issued a decision to cancel the ‘implied decision’ of the [PA] minister of finance, according to which the salary of prisoner Ahmed Firas Hassan was stopped in mid-2025.
The Independent Commission [for Human Rights] filed a lawsuit to cancel this decision in August 2025. The Commission emphasizes that this is a precedent that can be relied upon to renew the salaries of more than 1,600 prisoners.
…
[ICHR] Legal Advisor Attorney Ahmed Nasra told [UK Arab news website] Al-Araby Al-Jadeed that the legal argument was based on how the decision to stop the salaries is illegal. According to him, the Basic Law obliges the State of Palestine to pay salaries to this sector, based on Article 22 of the amended Basic Law, which states: ‘The care for the families of the Martyrs and the prisoners, and the care for the wounded, injured, and disabled, is a duty whose provisions are regulated by law, and the [Palestinian] National Authority ensures for them educational services and health and social insurance.’ Additionally, the argument was also based on the Prisoners and Released [Prisoners] Law. The decision to stop the salaries was implemented without an official document indicating the decision, and therefore it was considered an ‘implied decision’ of the minister of finance, meaning an unwritten decision – a position that was adopted by the court that ruled accordingly. [emphasis added]
[Al-Araby Al-Jadeed, UK Arab news website, May 5, 2026]
The PA now refuses to say whether it will appeal the ruling, which is the only way the implementation of the ruling could be stopped, or even delayed:
“The newspaper Al-Araby Al-Jadeed tried to get a response from the Ministry of Finance but received no answer, and also approached the [PLO] Commission of Prisoners and Released [Prisoners’ Affairs] and the [PA-funded] Prisoners’ Club, but the heads of these bodies preferred not to respond.”
[Al-Araby Al-Jadeed, UK Arab news website, May 5, 2026]
It’s not apparent why this specific group of terrorists had seen their salaries suspended in the first place when most others didn’t. As Palestinian Media Watch has previously documented, Pay-for-Slay continues unabated for thousands of other jailed terrorists.
But what the PA court has done is exposed the con game that the PA has been doing to hide Pay-for-Slay from the eyes of Western countries since last year.
ICHR Attorney Ahmed Nasra told Hebron’s Radio Alam the PA lawyers didn’t even try to argue that the prisoner wasn’t entitled to a salary, but simply claimed some technical rationale for the suspension.
The Court, meanwhile, accepted the counter argument that the terrorist had been getting a salary and was simply entitled to continue getting it, under law:
Ahmed Nasra and Al-Alam host Samer Al-Ruwaished
Host: “Was there an opposing party … a representative or lawyer from the [PA] Ministry [of Finance] against which you filed the petition? Were certain arguments presented to the court as to why they stopped this person’s salary?”
Ahmed Nasra: “Of course, the administrative prosecution represents the [PA] governmental entities. We — I as the lawyer — represent the appellant, the one who filed the petition. And the administrative prosecution is the one representing the governmental ministries and the government. The defense of the administrative prosecution was mainly procedural and formal, meaning they did not argue whether the prisoner is entitled or not entitled to a salary; they did not enter into that matter. Rather, they argued that there was a defect in the lawsuit, that there was a defect in the procedures, formal matters of this kind…
This person already meets the conditions for receiving a salary, let’s say… for salary eligibility … He was, as you know, one of those 1,600 prisoners who were already receiving salaries initially.”
Host:“Right, they are not asking for a [new] salary, they have already been [on the list of recipients].”
Ahmed Nasra: “Yes, exactly. Therefore, you are talking about 1,600 cases of people who already meet the conditions. In other words, the problem was not in that. Therefore, the administrative prosecution … did their job and their role in the case. They had no reservation and did not appeal on the matter of meeting the eligibility conditions. And this makes sense.”
Host: “And this perhaps also helped in reaching this decision, which restores the situation to its previous state, since [the salaries] were legal in the first place.” [emphasis added]
[Al-Alam radio station (Hebron), Facebook page, May 4, 2026]
Enough is enough. The PA incentivizing terror through Pay-for-Slay must be stopped completely in every method that it is delivered — whether it be through salaries, stipends, pensions, or hiring policies. The PA that passed the law mandating Pay-for-Slay must provide a legal remedy to stop it once and for all — now.
The author is a contributor to Palestinian Media Watch, where a version of this article first appeared.