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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.”
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The post With goblins, spellcasters and delis, board game makers are imagining new Jewish worlds appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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Polish novel portrays nostalgic image of the Jewish life that once existed there
ס׳איז לעצטנס אַרויס אַן ענגלישע איבערזעצונג פֿונעם ראָמאַן „איך הייס שטראַמער“, וועגן אַ ייִדישער משפּחה אין דער פּױלישער שטאָט טאַרנע (טאַרנאָוו). דאָס בוך האָט אָנגעשריבן דער פּױלישער שרײַבער מיקאָלײַ לאָזינסקי.
אין משך פֿון העכער װי 150 יאָר האָט טאַרנע געהערט צו דער עסטרײַכישער פּראָװינץ גאַליציע. אונטער דער עסטרײַכישער אימפּעריע האָבן ייִדן ניט געליטן פֿון מלוכישן אַנטיסעמיטיזם, און די באַציִונגען צװישן ייִדן און פּאָליאַקן זײַנען געװען רעלאַטיװ רויִקע.
דער מצבֿ האָט זיך געביטן נאָכן אױפֿקום פֿון דער אומאָפּהענגיקער פּױלישער רעפּובליק נאָך דער ערשטער װעלט־מלחמה. די באַציִונגען זײַנען געװאָרן אַלץ מער געשפּאַנט מיטן צוּװוּקס פֿונעם פּױלישן אַנטיסעמיטיזם אין די 1930ער יאָרן.
די העלדן פֿונעם ראָמאַן זײַנען די משפּחה שטראַמער, װאָס באַשטײט פֿון זעקס מענטשן: דער טאַטע, די מאַמע, פֿיר זין און צװײ טעכטער. זײ זײַנען ייִדן פֿון אַ גאַנץ יאָר. דער טאַטע נתן איז אַ לא־יוצלח, װאָס האָט אַ מאָל עמיגרירט קײן אַמעריקע אָבער האָט ניט געהאַט קײן מזל אין דער „גאָלדענער מדינה“ און זיך אומגעקערט אַהײם צו זײַן פֿרױ און קינדער. זינט דעם פֿעפֿערט ער זײַנע ייִדישע רײד מיט ענגלישע װערטער און האַלט אין אײן חלומען װעגן צוריקפֿאָרן קײן ניו־יאָרק, װוּ ער האָט אַ ברודער אַן אָלרײַטיק.
זײַן פֿרױ רבֿקה איז אַ יוסטע באַלעבאָסטע װאָס האַלט אונטער דאָס גאַנצע געזינד. יעדער אײנער פֿון די קינדער האָט אײגענע דאגות, באַגערן און פּלענער פֿאַר דער צוקונפֿט.
לאָזינסקי שטעלט צונויף דעם סיפּור־המעשׂה אויף אַ קונציקן אופֿן, מישנדיק פּערזענלעכע שטאַנדפּונקטן פֿון פֿאַרשײדענע פּערסאָנאַזשן. אַזױ אַרום שאַפֿט ער אַ פֿילזײַטיקן קאָלעקטיװן פּאָרטרעט פֿון אַ טיפּישער משפּחה מיט אירע טאָגטעגלעכע עסקים.
לכתּחילה איז דער נאַראַטיװער טאָן אַ ביסל איראָניש. עס דאַכט זיך אַז די פּאָליטישע ענדערונגען האָבן ניט קײן סך השפּעה אױף זײער לעבן. דער טאַטע בענקט נאָך די אַלטע גוטע צײַטן פֿונעם אַמאָליקן עסטרײַכישן מלכות: „עס װעט קײן מאָל ניט זײַן אַזױ גוט װי בײַם קייסער פֿראַנץ־יאָזעף“, בעת זײַנע קינדער פּרוּװן זיך צוצופּאַסן צו די נײַע פּױלישע פּאַראָנדקעס.
די קינדער װאַקסן אונטער און די שטימונג פֿונעם ראָמאַן װערט ערנסטער. די האַנדלונג שטײַגט אַריבער די דלתּ־אַמות פֿון דער הײמישער שטאָט טאַרנע. נתן און רבֿקה רעדן נאָך אַלץ ייִדיש, אָבער זײערע קינדער פֿילן זיך הײמיש אין פּױליש. זײ בײַטן זײערע נעמען — הערש־צבֿי למשל װערט העסיאָ – און לערנען זיך אין פּױלישע גימנאַזיעס.
שפּעטער קלײַבן זײ אױס פֿאַרשײדענע דרכים: דער עלטסטער זון שטודירט לאַטײַן און גריכיש אינעם יאַגעלאָנער אוניװערסיטעט אין קראָקע אָבער קלײַבט אױס אַ קאַריערע װי אַ געשעפֿטסמאַן. זײַן ייִנגערער ברודער װערט פֿאַרטאָן אין דער קאָמוניסטישער פּאַרטײ, ער פֿאַרברענגט אַ פּאָר יאָר אין תּפֿיסה און דערנאָך פֿאָרט ער קײן שפּאַניע צו קעמפֿן אינעם בירגערקריג.
מיט דער צײַט װערט דער דערצײלערישער טאָן אַלץ מער דראַמאַטיש. דאָס שפּיגלט אָפּ די אַלגעמײנע פֿינצטערע אַטמאָספֿער אין פּױלן אין די 1930ער יאָרן, װען דער אַנטיסעמיטיזם װערט אַלץ מער בולט, און די עקאָנאָמישע לאַגע פֿון ייִדן ווערט אַלץ ערגער.
„עס האָט זיך אָנגעהױבן מיט ׳יעדער אײנער פֿאַר זײַנע אײגענע און מיט זײַנע אײגענע׳ און ׳קױף ניט בײַ די ייִדן׳ [די פּאָפּולערע אַנטיסעמיטישע לאָזונגען], און ענדיקט זיך מיט צעבראָכענע פֿענצטער אין ייִדישע קראָמען און לאָזונגען ׳ייִדן קיין מאַדאַגאַסקאַר!׳.“
אַזױ טראַכט דער ייִנגערער זון נוסעק, װאָס האַלט זיך װײַט פֿון פּאָליטיק. אָבער אַפֿילו ער װערט געװױר, אַז פּױלן גליטשט זיך אַרײַן אין אַ פֿאַשיסטישן רעזשים װי אין דײַטשלאַנד און איטאַליע.
פֿון דעסט װעגן קומט דער חורבן אומגעריכט פֿאַר די שטראַמערס. אַפֿילו װען היטלער און סטאַלין צעטײלן פּױלן, האַלטן זײ נאָך אַלץ בײַ אַ האָפֿענונג, אַז אַלץ װעט זיך װי ניט איז אױססדרן און דאָס לעבן װעט זײַן װידער נאָרמאַל.
„איך הייס שטראַמער“ געהערט צו אַ נײַער כװאַליע אין דער פּױלישער ליטעראַטור, װאָס פּרוּװט צו באַטראַכטן דעם פּױלישן עבֿר דורך אַ ייִדישן שפּאַקטיװ. פֿאַרן חורבן זײַנען בערך צען פּראָצענט פֿון דער פּױלישער באַפֿעלקערונג, דאָס הײסט, בערך דרײַ מיליאָן נפֿשות, געװען ייִדן. ערשט ניט לאַנג צוריק האָט מען אָנגעהױבן צו באַטראַכטן ייִדן װי אַ װיכטיקער באַשטאַנדטײל פֿון דער פּױלישער געשיכטע.
עס איז ניט קײן חידוש, װאָס דער פֿאָקוס איז דאָ אױף די באַציִונגען צװישן ייִדן און פּאָליאַקן און ניט אױף די אינעװײניקע פּראָבלעמען פֿונעם ייִדישן ציבור. דער דאָזיקער חילוק צװישן דעם פּױלישן און ייִדישן קוקװינקל איז בולט װען מען פֿאַרגלײַכט „ איך הייס שטראַמער“ מיט די ייִדישע ראָמאַנען פֿון יענער תּקופֿה, װי למשל מיכל בורשטינס „איבער די חורבֿות פֿון פּלױנע“, לײב ראַשקינס „די מענטשן פֿון גאָדלבאָזשיץ“ אָדער אַלטער קאַציזנעס „שטאַרקע און שװאַכע“.
די פּערסאָנאַזשן אין אָט די ייִדישע ראָמאַנען זײַנען געװען טיף פֿאַרטאָן אין ייִדישע סאָציאַלע, רעליגיעזע, קולטורעלע און פּאָליטישע פּראָבלעמען, בעת די קריסטלעכע פּאָליאַקן זײַנען געװען זײַטיקע און לרובֿ פֿײַנטלעכע פֿיגורן.
די ייִדישע מחברים האָבן באַטאָנט די אָפּזונדערונג פֿון ייִדן אין פּױלן, בעת בײַ לאָזינסקין זײַנען ייִדן מיטגלידער פֿון דער ברײטער פּױלישער געזעלשאַפֿט, כאָטש זײער אינטעגראַציע איז װײַט ניט קײן פֿולע.
אַזאַ צוגאַנג איז היסטאָריש אַקוראַט, װײַל אַ היפּשע צאָל ייִדן, בפֿרט אין די שטעט, האָבן טאַקע זיך געװאָלט אַסימילירן אין דער פּױלישער געזעלשאַפֿט. לאָזינסקי װײַזט די דאָזיקע טענדענץ גאַנץ גוט, אָבער װען עס קומט צו ייִדישקײט, זײַנען דאָ פֿעלערס װי למשל װען נתן, און ניט רבֿקה און די טעכטער, צינדט אָן די שבת־ליכט און דערצו נאָך, שרײַבט ער, „אײן ליכט פֿאַר יעדן משפּחה־מיטגליד“.
צום סוף פֿונעם ראָמאַן גיט לאָזינסקי צו אַ רשימה ביכער, װאָס ער האָט גענוצט װי היסטאָרישע מאַטעריאַלן. דאָס רובֿ זײַנען דאָס סאָלידע פּױלישע היסטאָרישע שטודיעס און זכרונות, אָבער עס איז ניטאָ קײן אײן מקור איבערגעזעצט פֿון ייִדיש אָדער העברעיִש. עס פֿעלט דאָ אַפֿילו דאָס יזכּור־בוך „טאַרנע: קיום און אומקום פֿון אַ ייִדישער שטאָט“ װאָס איז פֿאַראַן אין אַן ענגלישער איבערזעצונג. אין דער הײַנטיקער פּױלישער ליטעראַטור װעגן ייִדן פֿאַרבלײַבט ייִדיש בלױז אַ סימן פֿון ייִדישקײט, און ניט קײן שליסל צום רײַכן קולטורעלן אוצר.
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There Are No ‘Moderates’: Most of the Democratic Party Is Turning Against Israel
Former Wayne County Health Director Abdul El-Sayed, a Democrat now running for US Senate in Michigan, speaks at a “Hands Off” protest at the state Capitol in Lansing, Michigan, on April 5, 2025. Photo: Andrew Roth/Sipa USA via Reuters Connect
Americans are bracing for a politically charged summer as momentum builds for radical Democrats in key races across the country.
In what is emerging as a clarifying moment for just how far the Democratic Party is willing to swing, current polls depict a competitive race among the three candidates running for US Senate in Michigan’s August Democratic primary.
Some of the latest numbers show Abdul El-Sayed, the Bernie Sanders-endorsed physician, holding a slight lead over the other two Democratic challengers, Michigan State Senator Mallory McMorrow and Congresswoman Haley Stevens.
In a page pulled out of New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani’s playbook, El-Sayed, who blamed Israel for the attempted terrorist attack in March that targeted preschoolers at Temple Israel in Detroit, often cloaks his radicalism in rhetoric that focuses on affordability and universal healthcare.
He displays open contempt for Israel, and has called the Jewish State “just as evil” as the genocidal terrorist group Hamas.
El-Sayed campaigns with people who justified the 9/11 attacks, and refused to take a position on the death of former Supreme Leader Khamenei for fear of offending the Islamist sensibilities of Michigan’s Dearborn residents.
For many Jewish Americans, the ascendance of El-Sayed, Mamdani, and Graham Platner, the Democratic Senate Candidate from Maine who has praised Hamas’ military tactics (and had an SS symbol tattooed on his body), reflects a new moment — a shifting of the Overton window that not only propels dangerous candidates to prominence, but paves a paradigm in which politicians whose views would have been disqualifying just a decade ago are rebranded as moderates.
Campaigning as a suburban mom trying to capture the votes of centrists and peel off some left-wing voters from El-Sayed’s camp, the present political landscape is planting the 39-year-old Mallory McMorrow firmly in the center of the Democrats’ electoral path in Michigan, with El-Sayed to her left, and the Congresswoman Haley Stevens, who has pro-Israel views, to her right.
Yet when it comes to the state senator’s platform regarding Israel, McMorrow engages with many of the same anti-Zionist ideas espoused by her challenger, El-Sayed.
She traffics in similar language falsely accusing Israel of committing genocide in Gaza with a deft talent for fashioning her far-left views in a palatable package: a Christian wife and relatable mother, whose husband also happens to be Jewish.
McMorrow satisfies the Democrats’ defined virtuous, big-tent philosophy with competing statements insisting that she would not meet with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu but also believes that Democrats’ affinity for Hasan Piker is a step too far into the realm of radicalism.
Should McMorrow be elected to the US Senate, would she vote any differently than El-Sayed when it comes to supporting the US-Israel alliance and providing Israel with the critical weapons it needs for its self-defense? It seems highly unlikely.
Much of the public discourse surrounds the surge of left-wing Democrats such as El-Sayed, Platner, and Mamdani, but the larger story to consider lies with politicians like McMorrow, who are using the atmospheric conditions to claim the mantle of moderation, but adopting the exact far-left positions of the candidates who hate Israel, and spread libels about Israel committing “genocide” and practicing “apartheid.”
If McMorrow is victorious in Michigan’s Democratic primary, her win would certainly be used by the Democratic establishment and its media allies to uphold a false narrative that the election was a defeat for the far left.
Yet there is perhaps no better example that illustrates just how successful leftists have been in dragging the center down than last month’s vote in the United States Senate, when nearly 80 percent of Democrats voted in favor of two anti-Israel measures introduced by Vermont Senator Bernie Sanders (I-VT) that, if passed, would have blocked approximately $450 million in weapons transfers to Israel.
The retreat from previously held pro-Israel leanings is reverberating beyond Congress, as “moderates” like Pennsylvania Governor Josh Shapiro (D) and Rahm Emanuel showcase their willingness to create daylight between the US and Israel.
For its part, AIPAC has been historically quick to praise and bolster the candidacies of politicians like New Jersey Senator Cory Booker, only to have the lawmaker court his state’s growing Muslim and Arab constituencies by announcing that he will no longer accept money from AIPAC. Senator Booker also backed both Senate resolutions halting military aid to Israel.
If there are legitimate debates about AIPAC’s policies to be had, Democrats aren’t engaging in it. They’re instead using AIPAC as a bogeyman to jump on the “Israel is evil bandwagon,” and perpetuate the libel that Jews control American politics with money.
Progressive populists and Muslim Socialists may differ in their ideological appeal, but both brands of candidates use their gaining leverage as a vehicle to inject their morally blind politics into the American ecosystem and generate a new standard of what constitutes a moderate in today’s Democratic Party.
There’s very little that separates El-Sayed and McMorrow’s foreign policy vision, just as there would be scant differences in how a Shapiro or a Kamala Harris White House would approach America’s relationship with Israel.
When it comes to supporting Israel’s right to exist and defend itself, the party appears nearly united in intensifying its hostility and moving the Democratic coalition onward — and firmly against Israel.
Irit Tratt is a writer residing in New York. Follow her on X @Irit_Tratt.
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Abraham Foxman, Former ADL Head and Advocate for American Jews, Dies at 86
Abraham Foxman, a Holocaust survivor and member of the US Holocaust Memorial Council, speaks at the US Holocaust Memorial Museum’s Annual Days of Remembrance Commemoration in the Emancipation Hall of the US Capitol on April 23, 2025. Photo: Mattie Neretin/Sipa USA via Reuters Connect
Abraham H. Foxman, who was the national director of the Anti-Defamation League for nearly three decades, has died at the age of 86, the ADL announced in a statement on Sunday.
The organization said it “deeply mourns the loss of our longtime national director,” but did not provide details about where, when, and how Foxman died. He is survived by his wife Golda, children Michelle and Ariel, son-in-law Brandon Cardet-Hernandez, and grandchildren, Cielo, Leila, Gideon, and Amirit.
Foxman retired in 2015 after spending his entire 50-year career with the ADL. He was “one of the world’s foremost voices against antisemitism and hate,” as well as an “outspoken, passionate, and tireless advocate for the Jewish people and Israel,” according to the advocacy organization.
Foxman graduated from City College of New York and NYU School of Law. He joined the ADL immediately after graduating from law school and served in various roles in the organization, including assistant director of legal affairs, before being becoming its national director in 1987. When Foxman announced his retirement from the ADL, then-US President Barack Obama said the long-time civil rights activist was “irreplaceable.”
Jonathan Greenblatt, the current CEO of the ADL, described Foxman as “an iconic Jewish leader who embraced the ideal of an America free from antisemitism and hate and who strongly believed that these scourges could be defeated if good people opposed it.”
“America and the Jewish people have lost a moral voice, a passionate advocate for the Jewish people and the state of Israel, and a remarkable leader,” Greenblatt said in a released statement. “In his storied career, Abe transformed ADL while confronting antisemitism and hate (from both left and right), opposing the global rise in antisemitism, holding world leaders accountable and working to ensure that Israel was Jewish, secure and democratic. Abe’s voice was heard – and listened to – by popes, presidents, and prime ministers, a voice he used wherever Jews were at risk. Abe Foxman spoke on the global stage with moral authority and clarity and was relentlessly dedicated to his pursuit of a world without hate.”
“Abe Foxman helped build the modern liberal era of America,” ADL Board Chair Nicole Munchnik added in a separate statement. “He was recognized across the globe as a great leader and passionate advocate for tolerance, a voice of the generation rebuilding in the shadow of the Shoah, and longtime advisor to American presidents and world leaders. To those of us who knew him, Abe was a warm friend, advisor, spirited antagonist and hugger – all over lunch.”
The American Jewish Committee praised Foxman as a “towering figure in the fight against antisemitism and hatred” and someone who “brought moral clarity, courage, and unwavering conviction to generations of advocacy and leadership.” The AJC said his advocacy “helped shape the American Jewish experience and strengthened the global fight against bigotry in all its forms.”
Born in 1940 to Polish Jews in what is now Belarus, Foxman survived the Holocaust under the care of his Polish Catholic nanny Bronislawa Kurpi, who baptized him and raised him as a Catholic to hide his Jewish identity. He lost 14 family members in the Holocaust but was reunited with his parents after the war. Together they immigrated to the United States, where Foxman attended the Yeshiva of Flatbush as a teenager. He later served as vice chairman of the Museum of Jewish Heritage in New York City and was a member of the United States Holocaust Memorial Council, to which he was appointed by President Ronald Reagan in 1987 and reappointed by Presidents George H.W. Bush, Bill Clinton, and Joe Biden.
The Auschwitz Jewish Center Foundation (AJCF) called Foxman “one of the most consequential Jewish leaders of the postwar era” and a Holocaust survivor who “devoted his life to confronting antisemitism and defending the Jewish people.”
“Abe Foxman belonged to a generation that carried the weight of history personally and transformed it into public service,” said AJCF Chairman Simon Bergson in a statement. “He dedicated his life to ensuring that the lessons of the Holocaust were applied to the defense of democratic values, human dignity, and the Jewish people. His legacy will endure for generations.”
Following the news of Foxman’s death, Israeli President Isaac Herzog praised him as a “legendary leader of the Jewish people, a champion of justice and equality, and a longtime, dear friend of mine.”
“Coming into a world at war, the Holocaust shaped Abe’s character and defined his mission: Combating antisemitism and hypocrisy, calling out racism and bias, speaking up for the Jewish people and the Jewish democratic Israel,” Herzog shared in a post on X. “His story, of rising from the ashes, is our story, the story of our people.”
Israel’s president also described Foxman as “a prominent, distinguished force in the American Jewish community, and a bridge between Israel and the Diaspora” as well as a “passionate Zionist, a humanist, and an outspoken, wise friend.”
“The affection and the respect we had for one another enabled us to openly discuss every challenge and every obstacle,” added Herzog. “I am so grateful for the profound conversations we shared over the years, and for the brave leadership he exemplified. I will miss Abe’s counsel and voice, and I know that his legacy and his message will live on.”
Foxman was a board member of the Met Council on Jewish Poverty, America’s largest organization combating Jewish poverty. Its CEO and Executive Director David G. Greenfield said he was “heartbroken” by the passing of his “dear friend and mentor.”
“At Met Council, we were privileged to have Abe as a board member, adviser, and friend,” Greenfield explained. “He brought wisdom, compassion, and deep commitment to everything he did. Even near the end of his life, Abe continued showing up for the community. Just a few weeks ago, he joined us with his granddaughters at Met Council’s Passover Day of Service at the Spitzer Fulfillment Center, helping ensure that New Yorkers in need could celebrate Pesach with dignity.”
“Public leaders do not always match their public reputations in private,” Greenfield added. “Abe was the rare person whose private kindness, humility, and generosity were even greater than his public stature. All who knew him loved him … His voice, his courage, his friendship, and his leadership will be deeply missed.”
Foxman also served as vice chairman of the Museum of Jewish Heritage in New York City.