Uncategorized
With goblins, spellcasters and delis, board game makers are imagining new Jewish worlds
(JTA) — Running a not-so-Zagat-rated deli, dropping into a Chinese restaurant for Christmas Eve dinner and acting out a bat mitzvah that involves a vampire — for contemporary board game fans, those can be all in an evening’s play.
That’s because a crop of new games aims to merge Jewish ideas and experiences with the aesthetics and language of games such as Dungeons & Dragons. Dream Apart places players in a fantastical reimagining of a 19th-century shtetl, for example, while J.R. Goldberg’s God of Vengeance draws inspiration from the Yiddish play of the same name. In the games in Doikayt, a collection released in 2020, players can literally wrestle with God.
Known as tabletop role-playing games because they ask players to take on a character, these games and their creators imagine exciting new worlds, subvert classic tropes in fun and irreverent ways, and reinterpret Jewish history and identity.
Tabletop role-playing games like Dungeons & Dragons and Call of Cthulhu have exploded in popularity over the past several years, with many — including at least one group of rabbis — picking up the Zoom-friendly hobby during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic. But the new Jewish games aim to do more than just provide a diversion or even an escape.
“Depending on your family, depending on your synagogue, depending on your community, you may have gotten more or fewer options of what Jewishness could mean in your imagination,” said Lucian Kahn, who created a trilogy of humorous Jewish role-playing games.
“What some of these games are doing is opening that up and pointing to alternate possibilities of imagining Jewishness, not as a way of converting anyone to anything else, but just as a way of showing the tradition is enormous,” he added.
Kahn is the creator of If I Were a Lich, Man, a trilogy of humorous games whose name is a mashup between a “Fiddler on the Roof” song and an undead character, the lich, that frequently appears in fantasy fiction and games. In the title game, players are Jewish liches — spellcasters whose souls, in the lore of Dungeons & Dragons, are stored in phylacteries, the Greek word for tefillin used by Jews in prayer. Representing the four children of the Passover seder, they debate how their community should address the threat of encroaching holy knights.
In some cases, the association of Jews with monsters has given rise to charges of antisemitism — the goblins of “Harry Potter” offer a prime example. But Kahn said he sees Jewish-coded monsters, and queer-coded villains, as figures of resistance.
“There’s a long tradition of looking at the monster and seeing that the reason why these are monsters is because the people who have oppressive power have decided that these are going to be the enemies of the ‘good’ oppressive powers,” Kahn explained. “But if you don’t agree with their ideology, if you’re seeing yourself as being a member of a marginalized community and being in opposition to these oppressive powers, then you can look at the qualities assigned to these monsters and some of them are qualities that are good.”
For Kahn, Jewish-coded monster characters also provide more of an inspiration than the archetypes of more traditional games.
“Maybe somebody thinks they’re insulting me or insulting Jews,” he said. “My response is: I like vampires and liches and trolls and goblins and think they’re much more interesting than bland white muscular humans running through the fields with a cross on their chest hacking at the same things with a sword over and over again.”
Kahn’s outlook has resonated in the tabletop role-playing game community. In February, he and Hit Point Press launched a Kickstarter to fund production of If I Were a Lich, Man. The campaign smashed its $5,000 goal, raising $84,590, enough to hit one of the campaign’s stretch goals of funding a grant to support independent zines about tabletop role-playing games.
The successful campaign means that Kahn’s three games will go into production. In addition to the game about liches, the trilogy includes Same Bat Time, Same Bat Mitzvah, in which players act out a bat mitzvah where one guest has been turned into a vampire, and Grandma’s Drinking Song, inspired by how Kahn’s Jewish great-great grandmother and her children survived in 1920s New York City by working as bootleggers during Prohibition.
In Grandma’s Drinking Song, players write a drinking song together as they act out scenes. Kahn, the former singer/songwriter and guitarist for Brooklyn Jewish queercore folk-punk band Schmekel, wanted to carry over elements of music into this game.
A throughline in all three games is the power of creative resistance to authority — a narrative that Kahn said strikes him as particularly Jewish.
“There are all these stories in Jewish folklore that are really overtly about finding trickster-y or creative ways of fighting back against oppressive and unjust governmental regimes, evil kings, bad advisors,” Kahn said. “One of the first stories I ever heard in my life was the Purim story, so it’s very embedded in my mind as a part of Jewish consciousness, when evil rulers come to power and try to kill us all, we’re supposed to find these outside-the-box ways of preventing that from happening.”
For some Jewish creators, Jewish holidays are an explicit inspiration. Like many Jewish kids of the ‘80s and ‘90s, Max Fefer, a civil engineer by day and game designer by night, grew up loving the picture book “Herschel and the Hanukkah Goblins,” which remains a popular festive text. But as Fefer notes, goblins are often associated with antisemitic stereotypes. Fefer’s first Jewish game, Hanukkah Goblins, turns the story on its head — players interact as the jovial goblins, who are here not to destroy but to spread the spirit of Hanukkah to their goblin neighbors.
Last year, Fefer launched a successful Kickstarter for another Jewish holiday-inspired tabletop role-playing game, Esther and the Queens, where players assume the roles of Esther and her handmaidens from the Purim story, who join together to defeat Haman by infiltrating a masquerade party as queens from a far-off land.
Esther and the Queens channels Fefer’s Purim memories and includes carnival activities, including Skee-Ball; a calm, relaxing Mishloach Manot basket-making; and a fast-paced racing game.
“All of our holidays, they’re opportunities for us to gather as a community in different ways,” Fefer said. “Watching this satirical, comedic retelling of the story of Purim and the Esther Megillah and coming together into a theater, in a synagogue, to watch these spiels and laugh together and spin the graggers when we hear Haman’s name — all of those things help us build identity and community, and I think games in particular surrounding identity, that’s a great way for a Jewish person themselves to feel seen in a game and reinforce their identity, and share their background with friends.”
Another pair of Jewish game creators, Gabrielle Rabinowitz and her cousin, Ben Bisogno, were inspired by Passover.
“The seder is kind of like an RPG in that it’s a structured storytelling experience where everyone takes turns reading and telling, and there’s rituals and things you do at a certain time,” Rabinowitz said. “It’s halfway to an RPG.”
The game became a pandemic project for the two of them, and alongside artist Katrin Dirim and a host of other collaborators, they created Ma Nishtana: Why Is This Night Different? — a story game modeled on their family’s seder. The game follows the main beats of the Exodus story, and in every game, there will be a call to action from God, a moment of resistance, a departure and a final barrier — but different characters and moments resonate depending on the players’ choices.
As an educator at the Museum of Natural History, Rabinowitz said she is often thinking about how to foster participation and confidence, and she wanted to create a game-play mechanic to encourage players to be “as brazen as her family is.” The result was an in-game action called “Wait! Wait! Wait!” — if players wish to ask a question, make a suggestion, disagree with a course of action or share a new perspective, they can call out “Wait! Wait! Wait!” to do so.
The game also includes a series of scenes that are actively roleplayed or narrated, and each includes a ritual — one that can be done in-person or an alternate remote-friendly version. For example, at one point each player must come up with a plague inspired by the new story they’re telling together, and in the remote version, players go camera-off after reciting theirs.
“The fact that it was created during the pandemic and a way for us to connect and other people to connect with each other is really the soul of the game,” Rabinowitz said. “After each person tells a plague, by the end, all the cameras are off and everyone stays silent for another minute. It’s a hugely impactful moment when you’re playing remotely. The design is interwoven in the game itself.”
Rabinowitz said by playing a story of a family undergoing these trials, the themes of family and identity deepen every time she plays the game.
“A lot of people say, ‘Wow, I’ve never felt more connected to this story,’” she said. “Embodying these characters gave me a feeling of relevance and that makes it feel important as a Jewish precept.”
For other creators, that deep connection comes in more lighthearted scenarios. Nora Katz, a theatremaker, game designer and public historian working at the Goldring/Woldenberg Institute of Southern Jewish Life (ISJL) by day, created the Jewish deli-centered game Lunch Rush, which was included in the Doikayt anthology.
“There’s also types of institutions that come up a lot in [tabletop role-playing games], especially sort of high fantasy,” she said. “Everyone meets in a tavern, there’s an inn, things like that. So the idea of a deli as a central gathering place in a world like that felt fun to me.”
An important element of Lunch Rush is that players must be eating while playing, so for Katz’s first round with friends, they got together with chocolate chip ice cream and dill pickle potato chips. She said the deli is a shared language, and her fellow players were all bringing in their own favorite things about delis they loved into the fictional place they were building together.
Tabletop role-playing games “at their core are about collaboration and relationships and storytelling and community, and for me, all of those things are also what Jewishness is about, to me they totally go hand in hand,” Katz said.
The games are not meant to be for Jewish players only. Rabinowitz said the guidebook for Ma Nishtana includes essays to encourage people to further engage with the narrative.
“Jewish players, non-Jewish players, priests, non-religious people, all different people have played it and almost all of them have told us it’s given them a new way of thinking of how they relate to religious tradition, and I didn’t really set out to do that,” Rabinowitz said. “I feel really privileged to have helped create that space.”
Rabinowitz and Bisogno also commissioned other creators to build alternate backdrops for their game, so it can be repurposed to telling the story of another oppressed people’s fight for freedom. Players can interact as embattled yaoguai, spirits from Chinese mythology; explore a Janelle Monáe-inspired Afrofuturist world; play as Indigenous land defenders; or unionize as exploited workers at “E-Shypt.”
Fefer, who has been amplifying the work of other Jewish creators in the tabletop role-playing game space, said the harm of stereotyping and reinforcing negative tropes is still present in the industry, and not just for Jewish people. For example, fans recently criticized Dungeons & Dragons publishers Wizards of the Coast for reinforcing anti-Black stereotypes in the descriptions of a fantasy race, the Hadozee.
“I think it’s a process of talking to people who are from these groups and bringing them onto your teams and making sure you’re incorporating their perspectives into, in the example of Dungeons & Dragons, a hundred-million-dollar industry, being intentional about that design and looking at things from lots of different angles,” Fefer said. “How could our branding, our games be reinforcing something we’re not even aware of?”
Fefer hopes people who play Hanukkah Goblins and Esther and the Queens feel seen and have moments of shared joy, and also that they learn something from these games — about the antisemitic tropes in fantasy, or about underrepresented groups within the Jewish community. With Esther and the Queens, Fefer collaborated with a writer and artist, Noraa Kaplan, to retell the Purim story from a queer and feminist lens, drawing on Jewish texts that the pair said shows the long presence of queer and trans people in Jewish tradition.
“We have a lot of richness within Judaism to share our culture and share our upbringing but also just be representation,” Fefer added. “We’re living in a time of heightened antisemitism and the world being a gross place to be at times, and we can really bring the beauty of Judaism into game design and create experiences for people that are both representative of Judaism and also just very Jewish experiences.”
But for all the important conversations and learning experiences that can come from Jewish tabletop role-playing games, Katz said the goofiness and joy is important, too.
“We live in such a horrendous society that is of our own making,” she said. “If you can, for a little while, enjoy an anticapitalist fictional deli that you and your friends live in, I think that’s great.”
—
The post With goblins, spellcasters and delis, board game makers are imagining new Jewish worlds appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Uncategorized
Mahmoud Khalil’s reassurances are bad for Jews but even worse for Palestinians
In his recent interview with the Forward, prominent Palestinian activist Mahmoud Khalil attempted to address claims that he’s an antisemite, that he supports Hamas, and that as a leader of Columbia’s anti-Israel encampments he helped foster hostility towards Jewish students and Jews generally.
Khalil says he’s offended by such claims, but by refusing to say whether Hamas deliberately targeted civilians on Oct. 7, confirmed by both Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch, how is he not providing coverage for Hamas?
The Forward attempts to present Khalil as a pragmatic moderate. But someone who can’t confirm what human rights investigators documented about the worst massacre of Jews since the Holocaust is not offering any real reassurances. Instead, he is only offering a performance.
An even deeper problem with Khalil is not what it means for Jews, but what it does to Palestinians. I say this as someone who has spent time in places where the gap between rhetoric and reality gets people killed.
In 2004, I was a young Marine officer building one of the first successful Iraqi military units in Iraq’s restive Al Anbar Province. My soldiers were mostly Shia, and many bore marks of torture from Saddam Hussein’s prisons, including scars and missing fingers.
One evening, I was watching the news with my Iraqi officers. We watched reports of Israeli tanks pushing into Gaza. I braced for anger and protests and was shocked when they started cheering for the Israelis. One of them quickly explained to me that Saddam had used the Palestinian cause to distract from his own atrocities at home. His support and alliance with Yasser Arafat and other Palestinian leaders was not out of solidarity, but rather as a tool of domestic control. My Iraqi soldiers had paid the price.
After leaving the Marines I visited Lebanon and Jordan, while working to help many of our translators we had left behind. During these visits, I walked through Sabra and Shatila, where Lebanese militias massacred hundreds, possibly thousands, of Palestinian civilians in 1982. I visited refugee camps in Jordan, not tents but cities, brick and mortar, generations deep, people suspended in political amber while the leaders who claimed to speak for them extracted whatever use they could.
During these visits, it was hard not to conclude that Palestinian suffering had been prolonged not only by Israel, but by a regional order that finds Palestinian statelessness useful. Khalil’s vision fits that order perfectly. It offers Palestinians justice in theory, but in reality only guaranteeing them decades of more suffering and tragedy. The people who benefit are not Palestinians in Gaza, but those who have built careers on book deals, speaking fees and endowed chairs on a cause they have no interest in resolving.
The brutal, tragic, and awful reality is that there is not a nation-state on Earth, maybe other than Iceland, that was not created through conflict and displacement. Throughout the Americas, it was the catastrophe that befell indigenous peoples, swept aside by European settlers over centuries of conquest and disease. Most of Western Europe’s borders hardened through revolution and the violent suppression of regional identities. Poland was erased from the map for a hundred years, then reconstituted after two world wars through mass population transfers that uprooted millions. The partition of India and Pakistan in 1947 displaced 15 million people and killed up to two million more. China’s borders were drawn through civil war, revolution, and the subjugation of non-Han peoples.
Every post-Ottoman Arab state, Jordan, Syria, Lebanon, Iraq, was created by European colonial powers drawing lines through tribal and sectarian areas with indifference to the consequences that are still felt today. The entire modern state system is built on this foundation: land taken, people moved, suffering endured, and eventually, when both sides accepted finality, a durable peace.
Either Khalil believes every nation-state on Earth should be dismantled, or he is applying a standard that exists for Jews and Jews alone. The entire Arab world spans 13 million square kilometers and nearly half a billion people. Israel barely covers 22,000 square kilometers and is home to only 7 million Jews. Khalil doesn’t call for the dissolution of Jordan, doesn’t demand China answer for Tibet, or push for the right of return for millions of Hindus and Muslims displaced by the partition of India and Pakistan. He saves that demand for the one Jewish state on Earth, a nation smaller than New Jersey, surrounded by a region that has tried to destroy its people repeatedly. This is antisemitism through the vocabulary of liberation.
Look at where peace has actually come from. Northern Ireland’s Troubles killed thousands over 30 years, a conflict soaked in ancient grievance, religious identity, and competing claims to land and sovereignty that each side considered non-negotiable. It ended not when one side achieved its maximal demands, but when the Good Friday Agreement gave both communities something short of victory and something better than war. Unionists did not get the permanent British Ulster they wanted. Republicans did not get the unified Ireland they had fought and died for. They got a future. In the Balkans, a decade of wars that produced ethnic cleansing, mass atrocity, and the worst European violence since World War II finally yielded to exhaustion and the hard work of partition and negotiated borders. The map that emerged was not just. It was livable. That distinction, between justice as an absolute and peace as a possibility, is the one Khalil refuses to make.
Khalil’s vision has been tried, in different forms and different names, for 70 years. It has not produced peace. It has produced more of exactly what he says he wants to end.
The only path forward is the one he refuses: two peoples, two states, a future neither side fully wants, but both can live with. Everything else is a jobs program for people who profit from the conflict, paid for in Palestinian lives.
His reassurances are hollow to Jews. They are fatal to Palestinians.
The post Mahmoud Khalil’s reassurances are bad for Jews but even worse for Palestinians appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
Jonah Hill’s cancel culture dramedy makes an antisemitism exception — all about Kanye
Ye, the rapper formerly known as Kanye West, is having an interesting April.
Fans are hailing his new album Bully as a return to form. (Critics are more mixed.) He reportedly made $33 million from two sold-out shows in Los Angeles, but he was also banned from entering the U.K. owing to a pressure campaign by Jewish groups over a scheduled headlining performance at the Wired music festival, even as the artist, who recently attributed his antisemitic behavior to a brain injury and bipolar disorder, offered to have “meet and listen” sessions with the Jewish community.
On top of this mixed reception, add a movie premiere. Ye has a memorable cameo in Jonah Hill’s new AppleTV+ film The Outcome, about an A-list actor’s teshuvah tour. And that moment has something to say about what to do with the artist’s outbursts.
Hill’s character, a crass crisis lawyer named Ira, assembles a dream team to protect his client, Reef Hawk (Keanu Reeves), who is awaiting the release of an incriminating video. The nature of this video is unknown beyond its potential to derail his comeback after a five-year sabbatical to treat a secret heroin addiction. Among Reef’s potential defenders are a Gloria Allred-style lawyer (Laverne Cox), a Black minister legendary for his work on civil rights (Roy Wood Jr.) and an ambassador from the Asian-American community (Atsuko Okatsuka). Ira notes someone missing from the mix, one “Moshe, from the Antisemitism Committee,” perhaps a poorly-named stand-in for the ADL.
“We ran the numbers,” Ira’s assistant says by way of explanation. “It turns out that hating Jews doesn’t negatively affect a person’s career. In fact, it could help.”
And we cut to a black-and-white headshot of Ye, occupying the whole screen.
Hill explained this choice in an interview with TMZ, saying the scene wasn’t just there to score a cheap shot at Ye, who publicly (and compellingly) apologized in an ad in the Wall Street Journal in January.
“In the midst of all this Jew stuff, he did Instagram a picture of me in the 21 Jump Street poster,” Hill recalled. “And he said something along the lines of ‘I don’t hate Jews anymore because I love Jonah Hill.’”
“Me and him got no beef,” Hill continued.” I just put that in there like, ‘Yo, you’re gonna f—ing put the 21 Jump Street poster up there and say you don’t hate Jews anymore. That’s pretty wild. I’m gonna put a picture of you saying that like, hating Jews helps your career.’”
Clearly a sight gag and a bit of an inside joke. But is it true?
Running my own numbers, and not even accounting for this last week of ups and downs, Ye took a major hit to his net worth when he lost his Adidas partnership, backsliding all the way from billionaire to mere multimillionaire. Fans still turn up for Ye, and some even seem to like what I’ll call his Hitler catalogue. That said, it’s hard to imagine him making a full recovery, once again gracing the stage at the Grammys or headlining a major festival or getting a shot at the Super Bowl halftime show.
The difference between Ye’s transgression and that of others is instructive. There’s plenty of arguable antisemitism in the case of celebrities whose pro-Palestinian advocacy has crossed the line into something unsavory. Rappers Bob Vylan of “death, death to the IDF” fame and Kneecap, who chanted “up Hamas, up Hezbollah,” come to mind. They have had their own brushes with cancellation and been denied visas because of their antics — but also strong support from those who believe they are simply speaking up for Palestinians. The ascendancy of Israel conspiracies, echoing age old canards, has recently produced an odd coalition between pundits on the far-left and far-right, and hasn’t put a dent in their audience.
(Hill, though Jewish, was accused of dabbling in Jewish stereotypes his last film, You People, and he will likely get some flack for this movie, both for his character — a kind of grubby fixer who calls his client “Bubbie” — and for a joke where Man’s Search for Meaning is referred to as “the most lit Holocaust book.”)
Even in this environment, Ye is toxic for mainstream consumption, because when he went “death con 3” on the Jews, his words had no agenda beyond delusion-fueled animus about Jewish control of the media. Ye’s awareness of the Middle East was best expressed on the occasion he used a fish tank net and Yoo-hoo bottle to represent the Israeli prime minister. Vylan and Kneecap’s slogans are more subtle and plausibly deniable than one of Ye’s latest tracks, literally called “Heil Hitler.”
There was no hedging it, try as Candace Owens might. It was Jew Hate Classic, the original recipe. And it wasn’t, in the case of Mel Gibson, a pattern that emerged over relatively wide gaps of time with only one incident widely known to the general public. It was an endless, often marathon torrent of invective and odd tangents care of an unmedicated bipolar insomniac. It went on for months. Then died off. Then came back swinging in the form of an album the concept of which could, charitably, be defined as spiritually Hitlerian.
The sheer concentration of vitriol seems like proof that the outburst was the result of a manic episode, which could afford the rapper some grace. Instead, he now lives in a liminal space between relevance and punchline. This strain of antisemitism doesn’t boost careers — yet — but the man behind it can sell out stadiums in spite of it.
All the while, the question of what to do with Ye’s mental health, and how it factors into his cancellation makes him a conundrum, even if it should by rights be a better excuse than Mel Gibson’s squad car in vino veritas. (Gibson is mentioned in the film, in the context of a poppers-related Weekend at Bernie’s scenario, not his own scandal.) Before we render a judgment, we need commitments he won’t repeat his tirades and so continue to influence looksmaxxers, incels and their overlapping Venn Diagram of Nazi revivalists.
Hill’s belief that Ye’s antisemitic streak was good for business is symptomatic of something fundamentally off with the director’s treatment of cancel culture. It feels out-of-touch even — or maybe because — it draws from experience. Hill himself was the victim of cancellation some years ago, when his ex leaked texts in which he weaponized “therapy talk.” Hill’s project, with a cast that includes Reeves, Van Jones, Martin Scorsese, Drew Barrymore and a rare appearance from Cameron Diaz, is itself proof of how not all cancellations are created equal or indefinite.
The Outcome is in tension with itself, part Hill’s version of Don Henley’s “Dirty Laundry” and Seth Rogen’s The Studio, part earnest penance that may or may not be coming from the director-writer himself.
One of the lines, delivered by Reef’s reality star mother (soap opera icon Susan Lucci), as a crew films their rapprochement for Bravo, sums the film up nicely: “Just because it’s performative doesn’t mean it’s not the truth.” We’ll have to take her word for it.
When it comes to Ye, there is some truth that antisemitism alone can’t crater a career — with the exception of lesser talents, it never could. We need not wonder how it has affected Ye’s popularity with Hill, who cited him on TMZ as “probably the greatest artist whoever lived.”
As Ira departs the film, we see his bumper sticker: “Honk if you can separate the art from the artist.” Hill would blow out the horn, and hopes you might too.
Jonah Hill’s The Outcome debits April 10 on AppleTV+.
The post Jonah Hill’s cancel culture dramedy makes an antisemitism exception — all about Kanye appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
Dollar Struggles to Rebound as Fragile US-Iran Ceasefire Keeps Markets Wary
U.S. $100 bills. Photo: Wikimedia Commons.
A fragile calm reigned across currency markets on Thursday as traders kept their eyes fixed on whether the ceasefire between the US and Iran would hold, a day after its announcement sent the dollar tumbling across the board.
The deal appeared to be on thin ice, as Israel bombed more targets in Lebanon, and there was no sign Iran had lifted its blockade of the Strait of Hormuz, which has caused the worst disruption to global energy supplies in history.
Iranian negotiators were expected to set off later on Thursday for Pakistan for the first peace talks of the war, but Tehran said there would be no deal as long as Israel was striking Lebanon.
President Donald Trump said all US ships, aircraft, and military personnel would stay in place in and around Iran until it fully complied with a deal.
The uncertainty left currency markets on edge.
The euro was up 0.17 percent at $1.1683. It had gained 0.6 percent on Wednesday, but retreated late in the day having touched a one-month high of $1.1721 earlier in the session.
Sterling similarly was 0.21 percent higher at $1.342, after gaining 0.77 percent on Wednesday, but retreating from as high as $1.348.
Meanwhile, the Japanese yen lost some ground, with the dollar up 0.3 percent at 159.055 yen, having briefly dropped below 158 on Wednesday.
With the Strait of Hormuz closed, “the entire ceasefire remains tenuous,” said Derek Halpenny, head of research global markets EMEA at MUFG. But, he added, “while the US dollar has rebounded, the moves in general have been modest.”
He said the fact that further talks scheduled in Pakistan were still going ahead was keeping any retracement of Wednesday’s moves in check.
Elsewhere, new personal spending data released on Thursday showed that US inflation increased as expected in February and likely rose further in March amid the war with Iran, a trend that is expected to discourage the Federal Reserve from cutting interest rates for a while.
The personal consumption expenditures price index climbed 0.4% after an unrevised 0.3 gain in January, the Commerce Department’s Bureau of Economic Analysis said on Thursday.
Japan’s consumer confidence worsened in March for the first time in three months, a government survey showed on Thursday, adding to a recent string of data pointing to the potential economic hit from the Middle East war, which would complicate the Bank of Japan’s rate-hike decision. The yen showed little reaction to the data.
Speaking in parliament, BOJ Governor Kazuo Ueda said real interest rates were clearly negative and were keeping the country’s financial conditions accommodative.
Other currencies were also broadly steady. The Australian dollar was 0.15 percent higher at $0.7054, while the New Zealand dollar was 0.46 percent higher at $0.585. In cryptocurrencies, bitcoin was last down 0.97 percent at $70,680.