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Ukrainian Jewish life has always taken place in Russian. Now a race to translate is underway.
LVIV, Ukraine (JTA) – The rabbis sat around a breakfast table, discussing Russia’s war on the country where they work in a mixture of Yiddish, Hebrew and Russian. They named their hometowns as Lugansk, Lvov and Dnepr, the Russian names for Ukrainian cities that have vaulted into international headlines since Russia invaded Ukraine in February.
Although they were focused on Ukraine’s progress in the fighting, the rabbis uttered not a single word in Ukrainian. How could they? Like the vast majority of Jews in Ukraine, none of them speaks the country’s official language.
Russian has long been the first language for a wide swath of Ukrainians, including the majority of the country’s Jews. But after the Russian invasion, many Ukrainians decided they wanted to speak less Russian and more Ukrainian. Many Jews, similarly horrified by the sight of thousands of Russian soldiers pouring over Ukraine’s borders and wishing to demonstrate their Ukrainian bonafides, have made the same choice — even as it means disrupting a long linguistic tradition.
So when the rabbis’ successors meet for pancakes and sour cream, they will be far more likely to introduce themselves as the rabbis of Luhansk, Lviv and Dnipro, the Ukrainian names for their hometowns that have become the standard in English. They will also likely be able to hand their students and congregants Ukrainian-language versions of central Jewish texts that simply do not exist now.
“Many of my friends say that they are embarrassed to use Russian as a language. They say that we are Ukrainian Jews, and that Russia is a terrorist country fighting us and that we shouldn’t use their language,” said Rabbi Meir Stambler, from Dnipro. “Others say that [Russian president Vladimir] Putin doesn’t own the Russian language. It is an issue.”
He added, “This is something that people are discussing all the time.”
A decade ago, half of Ukrainians said they spoke Russian as their native language. That number has declined to 20%, fueled in part by resentment over Russia’s aggressions in Crimea, a contested region that it annexed by force in 2014. But Jews have remained predominantly Russian-speaking, even in parts of western Ukraine where Ukrainian has long been the dominant language. (Russian and Ukrainian are related linguistically, but their speakers cannot understand each other.)
Russia’s war on Ukraine has Ukrainian Jews playing catchup. Stambler, who heads the Federation of Jewish Communities, a body affiliated with the Hasidic Chabad-Lubavitch movement that operates a network of 36 synagogues around Ukraine, offers a stark prediction: “Within 10 years, every Jew in Ukraine will speak Ukrainian.”
The dominance of Russian among Ukraine’s Jews, who numbered in the tens of thousands before the war, has deep roots.
“The historical trajectory of Jews in what is now Ukraine led them in the 19th century to adopt Russian rather than Ukrainian,” says historian Natan Meir, a professor of Judaic studies at Portland State University. “That was because Ukrainian was perceived as a peasant language that did not have any high culture associated with it, and because there were no economic advantages to adopting Ukrainian at the time.”
Now, the upside of switching to Ukrainian — demonstrating a national allegiance during a time of war — couldn’t be clearer.
“Jews feel quite integrated into Ukrainian society, but a shift, even if it is a gradual shift, to Ukrainian is going to make that more tangible than ever,” Meir said, calling the Russian invasion “absolutely game-changing” for Ukrainian Jews. “They will be perceived even more strongly than they have been as being wholly Ukrainian and part of the fabric of Ukrainian society.”
Most Ukrainian Jews, especially those educated since the collapse of the Soviet Union, can now speak some Ukrainian. But their ability often depends on where they grew up: Many Jews in traditionally Russophone cities such as Odesa, Dnipro or Kharkiv can struggle with the language, while their grandparents often cannot speak it at all.
Books in both Hebrew and Russian sit on a bookshelf at Medzhybizh. (Jacob Judah)
“Not more than 20% were Ukrainian-speaking at home,” says Stambler. “Take President [Volodymyr] Zelensky. He knew Ukrainian, but he didn’t speak it at home, and he had to polish it up when he became president.”
It will not be simple for the Jewish community to suddenly switch to Ukrainian, the most widely spoken European language without a standardized translation of the Torah.
Two years ago, a team of translators working in Israel, Austria and Hungary began working to produce Ukrainian-language Jewish texts. But before the Russian invasion, the effort had so far produced only a Ukrainian book of psalms, or tehillim.
In May, two months into the war, a decision was made to accelerate work on a daily prayer book. A Torah could follow.
“The chumash is difficult,” said Stambler, who oversees the half-dozen-strong team of translators from his base in Dnipro, using the Hebrew word for the printed form of the Torah. “We are working on it.”
While translating sacred texts can take years, other changes have come faster. The leaflets, brochures and calendars that are a fixture at any Jewish center in Ukraine were quickly swapped out Russian for Ukrainian, at least at the federation’s headquarters. Before February, these had often been produced and printed by Russian Jewish communities and shared with those in Ukraine, for simplicity’s sake.
“This differentiation from Russian Jewry is going to be huge,” said Meir, the historian. “Up until this point they have essentially formed one linguistic and cultural space that all Jews, whether they were in Ukraine, Russia or Belarus could move freely between.”
Now, the ties between those communities are both logistically complicated to maintain — trade routes have been ruptured — and also potentially a liability at a time when anyone in either Russia or Ukraine showing an affinity for the other country can face suspicion or penalties.
“This shift, if it actually happens, is going to be marking out a totally new cultural space for Ukrainian Jews and almost a declaration of independence,” Meir said “Or at least that is the aspiration, because there is so much of their heritage which is still based in the Russian language that it is going to be a long time before they can fully separate.”
That separation process, which began to take shape most clearly after 2014, has quickened. “We started doing things ourselves,” said Stambler. “We used to do about 20% in Ukrainian for the Jews in western towns like Lviv, Ivano-Frankivsk and Uzhhorod, but we are making a much stronger push now.”
He estimates that some 75% of material being distributed to Ukrainian Jewish communities by the Federation of Jewish Communities was in Ukrainian by September, up from 20% to 35% in January.
Young rabbis who come from the United States or Israel to serve small Jewish communities across Ukraine now say that they have had to add Ukrainian alongside their Russian classes.
“I began with Russian,” said one of those rabbis who works in Vinnitsya, until he decided over the summer that he had to learn Ukrainian. “I realized that I had to learn Ukrainian because I needed it on the street. I needed it to speak with the government and with the media.”
Signs in a synagogue in Ukraine are written in both Ukrainian and Russian. (Jacob Judah)
Some Ukrainian Jews are voting with their voices.
“My whole life, I spoke only Russian,” said Olha Peresunko, who before the war lived in Mikolaiv in southern Ukraine. “But after the 24th of February I am speaking only Ukrainian.”
Peresunko was speaking outside a Lviv synagogue this fall, where she and other refugees were waiting for food parcels. She had fled Mikolaiv, which has sustained repeated assault by Russian troops, for Lviv with her mother and two children while her husband is on the frontlines.
Her children are finding it hard to adjust to the exclusive Ukrainian environment in Lviv, but she is confident that they will make the shift. “They will speak Ukrainian as their first language,” Peresunko said.
Exactly how much the shift to Ukrainian will change local Jewish communities is a matter of debate. Rabbi Shalom Gopin, who fled to Kyiv in 2014 from his home community in Luhansk, an overwhelmingly Russophone city seized by Russia-backed separatists at that time, said he, too, believes that Ukrainian will displace Russian as the lingua franca of Ukrainian Jewry.
A Ukrainian woman displays her Ukrainian-language Jewish calendar as a source of pride, September 2022. (Jacob Judah)
“They are starting to slowly speak Ukrainian,” he said. “It is no problem. There are lots of Jews in America who speak English. We live here, and we speak the languages of the places that we live. It is normal.”
But Gopin said the linguistic shift “means nothing” amid other issues facing Jews in Ukraine, where Russia’s war is threatening to undo 30 years of Jewish community building, largely though not exclusively led by Chabad, Gopin’s Orthodox movement.
“The problem for the Jews of Ukraine is not language,” he said. “It is about how much they are going to synagogue, or how many children are going to Jewish schools, not about what they are speaking.”
Natalia Kozachuk, 45, a Jewish businesswoman in Lviv, sees only upside to shedding Russian, her native language. She has started to speak to her children only in Ukrainian.
“It will be hugely positive if Jews speak more Ukrainian,” Kozachuk said. This is the only way that Jews can truly “learn more about the Ukrainian people,” she said, “about their history and the positive qualities and strengths of Ukraine.”
“Only good can come of it,” she added. “We will understand each other better.”
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Why are all the cool girls wearing yarmulkes?
If you have a passion for fashion, enjoy exotic headgear, or, if you, like me, just happen to go outside once in a while, then there is a good chance that you, too, have crossed paths with the “crochet skullcap.” Cobweb-thin and dainty, they come in as many colors as Joseph’s coat and just as many stitch patterns. Some have little stars or pom-poms on the fringe. Some even have brims, like a lampshade but for your head.
I had never seen one of these creations until a few months ago. For reasons I cannot disclose, I was walking down Carnaby Street, a famous shopping mecca in London’s SoHo neighborhood, squinting down at Google Maps when some spirit — maybe God — compelled me to look up. Before me in the afternoon glare stood a glimmering seraph. She was tall and gleaming, sliding languidly down the street like a cheetah on a runway. And on her head she wore … a yarmulke?! I blinked and shook myself. When I looked again, she was gone.
But her image had burned itself into my memory like acid on copper. Specifically that yarmulke of hers. It was like a lilac doily, but with more structural integrity. It was also bigger than the average yarmulke. Whereas your standard yarmulke is around bald-spot-sized, this woman’s yarmulke was big enough to engulf her whole cranium.
Back in America, preliminary Googling revealed that part of the reason the woman’s yarmulke was so big and purple was that it was not a yarmulke at all, but a “crochet skullcap.” A Vogue article addressed the very question that was plaguing me: “Why Is Everyone Wearing a Tiny Crochet Skullcap?” Everyone, that is, who attended Copenhagen Spring Fashion Week 2026, where apparently everybody “got the memo to wear a tiny crochet skullcap.” Had they all unexpectedly converted to Judaism?
The article offered alternative theories: Perhaps the artisanal, handmade connotations of crochet (even when mass-produced) appealed to Danish dames; perhaps these head coverings were a symptom of nostalgia for the ’60s and ’70s, when crochet skullcaps were so popular among the freewheeling hippies that the original 2007 release of Julie Albright, the American Girl Doll emblematic of ’70s San Francisco, came with a tiny lilac skullcap of her own.
On the other hand, maybe the crochet skullcap’s ascendance was proof that the cultural pendulum was swinging conservative. I was deep into the article when I found what I had been looking for: my smoking gun, nestled between two parentheses. The crochet skullcap, one fashion expert noted, “is similar to religious head coverings, like the kufi and yarmulke.”
“HA!” I yelled. If there had been any birds in my kitchen, they would have scattered. So I wasn’t insane after all!
Further research revealed that these tiny crochet circlets contained great contradictions. How was it possible that hippy-dippy flower children had pulled up at Woodstock wearing more or less the same hat that other guys wore while praying three to five times a day? Among the religious demographic, the yarmulke and kufi symbolized modesty and humility before God. Among fashion-forward extremists, the crocheted skullcap — some of which sell online for more than $300 — symbolized chicness, even status. Such a paradox required the help of an expert. So I wrote to Janet Linville, the head milliner at the Metropolitan Opera and senior millinery instructor at the Fashion Institute of Technology (FIT) with my question: What did this hat mean?
Unsurprisingly, there were many meanings. “This sort of head covering goes a long way back in history,” she wrote. “Similar caps were worn at night to ‘keep the spirits in (or out), to cover tempting hair, to show marital status, and for religious deference reasons.” On the off-chance the Copenhagen Fashion Week crowd wasn’t trying to keep spirits out or cover their tempting hair, Linville offered another theory: Perhaps it was just that “handmade crafted looks, such as embroidery and knitting have been more popular recently.” In other words, maybe people were just wearing something because it looked cool, not because they were tapping into a millennia-long monotheistic tradition. “I suppose there’s an argument to be made that we are living in more conservative times,” she wrote, “but crocheted skull caps were also popular in the permissive ’60s and ’70s.”
The crochet skull cap falls in step with a broader trend of cool-ifying symbols of tradition and even conservatism, such as the corset, the crucifix, the “prairie dress,” and the “milkmaid dress.” (Evie Magazine’s “Raw Milk Maid Dress” sparked furor in the tradwife community over what was viewed as an unpasteurized level of sexiness.) El País reports that from 2024 to 2025, online searches for knee-length skirts rose by 33%, equestrian boots by 39%, and gingham checks, a pattern some consider evocative of 1950s domesticity, by 33%.
But it is hard to know what people are thinking when they follow trends. Perhaps it is to promote one idea, or to subvert another. Perhaps it is because other people are doing it. Perhaps it is for no reason at all. For my part, I’m thinking of getting in on this trend while it’s hot. There’s a soccer-ball-themed yarmulke from my cousin’s bar mitzvah lying around the house somewhere. All I need to do now is punch a few holes.
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Mamdani concedes he can’t arrest Netanyahu but urges U.S. to enforce International Criminal Court warrant
New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani announced Tuesday night that a legal review he ordered found he does not have the authority to arrest Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu when he visits the city, putting to rest a question that has repeatedly surfaced since he first vowed to take custody in light of an International Criminal Court order for Netanyahu’s arrest.
In the two-minute address posted on his official social media accounts, Mamdani opened by declaring “Benjamin Netanyahu is a war criminal, the architect of a horrific genocide against the Palestinian people” but acknowledged the legal limits that prevent him from following through on his pledge, which had become a rallying cry for his pro-Palestinian supporters. (The use of the term “genocide” to describe the Gazan death toll in the Israel-Hamas war remains contested.)
“My administration has reviewed every avenue available under applicable law to determine whether New York City could execute the International Criminal Court’s arrest warrant if Benjamin Netanyahu came here,” Mamdani said. “It is clear that we do not have the independent legal authority to enforce this one.”
Benjamin Netanyahu is a war criminal. pic.twitter.com/YRezmW6YVx
— Mayor Zohran Kwame Mamdani (@NYCMayor) July 22, 2026
The United States does not recognize the court’s authority over American citizens or foreign nationals on U.S. soil, and local authorities have no power to execute such a warrant. U.S. law gives the federal government control over foreign policy, and heads of state traveling to the United Nations are protected by diplomatic immunity.
The announcement ended days of speculation and fierce backlash over one of his most controversial campaign promises after comments he made when asked about his arrest vow in an interview with The New York Times reignited the issue. “If someone is charged with a warrant from the International Criminal Court for these types of crimes, that’s something I believe should be honored,” Mamdani told reporters on Monday.
Mamdani, who rose to power aligned with pro-Palestinian activism, has been unapologetic about his anti-Zionist views. He came under fire during the mayoral race last year for defending the slogan “globalize the intifada,” used by some at the pro-Palestinian protests and perceived by many as a call for violence against Jews, and repeatedly said he’d arrest the Israeli leader over the conduct of the war in Gaza.
Netanyahu’s representatives in the U.S. responded angrily to Mamdani’s move, calling him “an antisemite” and accusing him of attacking Israel to cover up for political failure.
On Tuesday night, Danny Danon, Israel’s ambassador to the United Nations, responded on social media: “Zohran Mamdani, ENOUGH. Enough with the blood libels. Enough with the attacks on Jewish organizations. Enough with the outreach to the Iranian regime. You were elected to serve New Yorkers, not Hamas’ propaganda. Do your job!”
Tuesday’s video mirrored the Nakba Day video produced by his City Hall media team commemorating the displacement of Palestinians during Israel’s founding in 1948, which drew sharp criticism from Jewish and Zionist organizations. But it also highlighted the tension that has defined Mamdani’s first six months in office: balancing the activist politics that propelled him to City Hall with the legal limits and governing responsibilities of leading the city with the largest Jewish population outside Israel.
In his address, Mamdani said that while the city had exhausted its legal options, the federal government had not. He urged the Trump administration to join the International Criminal Court and enforce its arrest warrant for Netanyahu. President Donald Trump, writing on Truth Social on Monday, reassured Netanyahu that he “will not be arrested, in any way, shape, or form, while in the United States of America.”
Mamdani concluded that Netanyahu “is not welcome in New York City” and said New York leaders can choose not to remain silent to defend Palestinian human rights. “That is my commitment to you,” he said.
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Democratic socialist rails against AIPAC in uphill primary bid against pro-Israel incumbent in Arizona
(JTA) — Kai Newkirk, an activist and democratic socialist, has made Israel and AIPAC a focal point in his effort to unseat pro-Israel Rep. Greg Stanton in Tuesday’s Arizona Democratic primary.
“I’ve been arrested over 25 times in civil disobedience — and I’ll go to jail for justice again before I ever take a dime from AIPAC,” Newkirk wrote on X last week, referring to the American Israel Public Affairs Committee.
Newkirk, 45, whose organizing has largely focused on campaign finance reform, has repeatedly blasted Stanton’s support from the pro-Israel lobbying group. He has also accused the Israeli government itself of “trying to interfere in our elections,” including in Arizona’s 4th Congressional District where he is running and which covers parts of Phoenix and Maricopa County.
He pointed to a $45 million text message campaign to improve Israel’s image in the U.S. as a sign of such interference, and posited that “they may be targeting areas where AIPAC is more invested or where these issues are more at stake.”
The primary comes as a number of left-wing congressional candidates with sharply critical Israel stances have won the Democratic nomination around the country, and as Israel and AIPAC grow increasingly unpopular among Democratic voters.
The most recent poll on the Arizona race, commissioned by a group that favors Newkirk, had Stanton up by 8 percentage points, while another poll, conducted two weeks earlier by a group favoring Stanton, showed the incumbent ahead by 33 points.
Newkirk’s platform includes ending all military aid to Israel and imposing an arms embargo on the country, which he accuses of genocide.
Stanton, 56, a four-term incumbent, voted against Kentucky Rep. Thomas Massie’s amendment to cut military aid to Israel last week. Newkirk criticized Stanton, saying that he would have voted for the amendment, and suggested that Stanton’s vote was the result of his support from AIPAC.
“Greg Stanton has taken over $300K from AIPAC,” Newkirk wrote. “And today — as so many Americans in our district and across the country struggle to get by — he just voted to send billions more of our tax dollars to Israel to fund their war crimes and genocide. Disgraceful.”
Among AIPAC’s endorsees in Congress, more than a dozen voted to cut aid to Israel last week; AIPAC has since removed the option on its website to donate to those candidates.
Stanton explained his vote on X, saying that the amendment “would undermine America’s ability to counter real threats from Iran” and weaken the ability to promote long-term stability across the region. He also criticized Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and wrote that “clear change is necessary” as the U.S.-Israel security agreement, which includes $3.8 billion in annual military subsidies for Israel, nears its expiration in 2028.
Newkirk is endorsed by progressive groups such as Our Revolution, Track AIPAC and the Progressive Democrats of America.
Also among Newkirk’s endorsers is Cenk Uygur, the host of the Young Turks who has spread conspiracy theories about Israel. “Kai is Israel Free and has fought to get money out of politics his whole life,” wrote Uygur last month.
Newkirk has faced turbulence in establishing broader support.
The Young Democrats of Arizona pulled its endorsement of Newkirk earlier in July, writing that it had been “made aware of some concerning patterns of behavior” displayed by Newkirk, without specifying what it meant.
Newkirk did not respond to the Jewish Telegraphic Agency’s request for comment. After the Young Democrats of Arizona retracted its endorsement, Newkirk wrote that the withdrawal of the endorsement was based on a false report amid “a wave of wins by democratic socialists” and called it a “weaponization of … disavowed misinformation.”
Newkirk did speak out against last year’s killing of two Israeli Embassy staffers outside the Capital Jewish Museum in Washington, D.C. “I stand always with my beloved Jewish siblings against the scourge of antisemitism just as I will never stop in the nonviolent struggle to end the genocide in Gaza, release all hostages, and open the way to just, lasting peace,” he said.
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