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You see an ugly ottoman or a faded armchair; she sees a lost history waiting to be revived
Even when she was a little kid, Ruti Wajnberg knew her grandma’s brown ottoman was ugly. She loved it anyway. Whenever she and her sisters would make the trek from New Jersey to visit their grandmother in Brighton Beach, they would roll around on the mushroom-shaped seat.
“It’s in all my memories of her apartment,” Wajnberg told me at her upholstery studio in Brooklyn. “It was my grandma’s, it’s tied up with my memories of her, and I wish I had it.”
To be clear, the brown would have to go. “I would have ripped that fabric off that stool so fast,” said Wajnberg, 41, a former product manager and software developer who started her reupholstery business Find the Thread two years ago to give new life to old furniture. “It would be so meaningful to me to have it, to watch my kids roll on it; that would bring me to tears.”
As the granddaughter of Holocaust survivors and the daughter of Jews who were expelled from Communist Poland in 1968, Wajnberg doesn’t have many heirlooms. More than once, her family has been forced to leave everything behind — including, in her grandparents’ cases, the loved ones who perished at the hands of the Nazis.
When Wajnberg’s parents fled Poland as teenagers — her mother’s family to Israel and her father’s to New York via Italy — they could take very little with them. Her mother told her she’d tucked a portrait a friend had painted of her in her suitcase. It was confiscated.
“That always struck me as so sad, that experience of just arriving completely empty-handed,” said Wajnberg, who wrote her undergrad thesis at NYU about her family history. This sense of loss is part of what drew her to saving and reviving furniture imbued with personal meaning.
“I don’t have that line of connection to anything in the past. I don’t have photographs of my great grandparents, anything that belonged to them,” she said. “Possessions carry a lot of stories. They’re a reason to talk about the person and remember them.”
As ugly as the brown ottoman may have been, she wishes she’d had the foresight to ask for it when her grandmother — who was her “bestie” when she was young — died in 2016. “When we go to Brighton Beach, I talk about my grandparents, because I’m in their space,” she said. “But I’m never in their space in my space.”
These days, people come to her with all kinds of projects: thrift finds that need zhuzhing, built-in window seats that require oddly shaped cushions, salvaged church pews that could use dressing up, fabric purchased on vacation that they want to put to use, faded furniture they don’t want to part with, and pieces they inherited.
“Most often I get, ‘This was my grandma’s,’” she said. “That’s my favorite. If it was your grandma’s, I’m in.”
Finding the thread
The first thing Wajnberg ever upholstered, coincidentally, was an ottoman. “I found an upholstery class in the East Village that sadly doesn’t exist anymore, and I signed up for it, having no idea that I would like it. I just wanted a creative outlet,” said Wajnberg, who was working as a product manager at the time. She still has the ottoman she made from scratch. Looking back with a more expert eye, she said, “it’s not very well-made.” But she loved the process. The tactile, physical experience reminded her of the time she spent working in the garden on a kibbutz in Israel, and she craved more of it.
Like many first-generation Americans growing up with immigrant parents, Wajnberg didn’t always imagine this path. “The idea of an artistic life or career was not really presented as an option,” said Wajnberg, the third of four girls. Music was a huge part of her childhood in New Jersey — all the kids played piano and another instrument and sang in choirs — and she always loved making things. But the arts felt more like “a hobby option.”
“My parents understandably had this feeling that nothing that you have is yours, except for your education,” she said. “People can take your stuff and people can take your passport, and the only thing you really have is your brain.”
Wajnberg started college at NYU thinking she’d study journalism, but quickly switched to history, and interned at the Museum of Jewish Heritage. After graduation, she moved to Israel to work on a kibbutz for six months and spend time with her other grandparents in Tel Aviv. She ended up staying for three years, earning an MBA from Reichman University and taking on her first jobs in tech.
When she returned to the States, Wajnberg worked as a product manager and later pivoted to become a software developer. All the while, she kept up her upholstery hobby. After her first son was born, she remembered, she’d often put him to sleep, then head down to the unfinished basement of their building, “and just rip things up and put them back together.” She was taking online courses, watching YouTube videos, and traveling occasionally for courses wherever she could find them.
“I just knew I loved it. But I also liked my job,” she said. “I fantasized about being an upholsterer and I would meet women my age-ish who had their own shop, and it just felt so unattainably cool to me and not really a practical option,” she said. “I really had to work to shed the practicality of what I thought I needed to be doing.”
Then the pandemic hit. Wajnberg had just had her second son and when she returned from leave in the midst of lockdown, she realized she didn’t like working remotely, without the human interactions that were her favorite part of the job. She went down to four days a week so she could work Fridays at the Brooklyn upholstery studio Stitchroom.
“After a couple of weeks, I was just like, ‘This is all I can think about. This is all I want to do,’” she said. She parlayed it into a full-time job as the shop’s head of production. Three years in, she felt ready to open up a shop of her own.
‘Making things’
Wajnberg’s studio is nestled on the third floor of a building with office lofts and artist spaces across from the Brooklyn Navy Yard. A window in the back corner spills natural light onto a small desk and three sewing machines. Up front there’s a large worktable and a couple projects in progress pushed against the sides of the space. On the day I visited, there was a Victorian sofa half-dressed in yellow, green and blue flowers, and a chair waiting to be adorned in gold chenille.
Her apron, hanging by the door, is covered in leaves and flowers, a cheerful mess of reds, yellows, oranges, pinks, and greens. “I, you may have noticed, am a floral gal,” she said.
“They make me smile. They make me happy. They make me feel lighter,” she added. “I just want to be drenched in flowers while I upholster things in flowers.”
The jubilant fabrics and the warmth of Wajnberg’s personality belie what has been, in some ways, a difficult first chapter. “I’ve really only had this business in times of great pain,” Wajnberg said. She started Find the Thread in September 2023, just weeks before the Hamas attacks on Oct. 7. “I have a lot of people there,” she explained, people she loves and worries about in Israel, including all of her family on her mother’s side and friends she made while living there. “It’s painful, regardless of what your political beliefs are.”
“Like many people who come from a lineage of trauma, I have a very busy, anxious mind,” Wajnberg said. “And I really feel centered and calmer when I’m working with my hands.” To offer others the same kind of outlet — and an introduction to upholstery — she’s been giving monthly classes in her studio, teaching participants to make throw pillows or reupholster one of their own dining room chairs.
“People are really craving tactile accomplishment,” she said. At the end of each workshop, when everyone pauses and looks at what they’ve created, “there’s this real sense of pride in the room. Like, ‘I made this, I just made this thing with my hands,’” she said. “It feels so good.”
Reviving and renewing
There’s an armchair that’s been sitting in Linda Ellman’s living room in Brooklyn for decades. It was there when her two daughters were growing up, and it’s there now when her four grandchildren come over after school — the perfect cozy spot to cuddle up and read together. It always conjured up memories of a similar chair that Ellman used to sit in to read with one of her parents or her grandma when she was a kid.
“One of the important things we do with children is we hold them close, we read things to them that help them think about themselves and the world,” Ellman, a retired teacher, told me over the phone. “I’m continuing the tradition. I lived near both my grandparents and they were very much in my life, and these kids are very much in my life.”
When the fabric started falling apart, Ellman considered buying a new chair. But she was attached to the chair she already had and the many years of memories it held. So she decided to reupholster it instead, and a friend referred her to Wajnberg.
After prospective clients reach out for an initial quote, the first step is fabric selection. Wajnberg works primarily with “regular people,” rather than interior designers and other industry professionals, so she often has to guide them to figure out what they want. “I think I’ve gotten really good at pulling other people’s style out of them,” she said.
At first, she’d ask people what they were looking for and bring samples to them. Until she realized most people have no idea. Now they usually come to her studio, so she can observe their reactions closely and pull from her entire library. They may think they want one thing, and ultimately fall in love with something else. Ellman, for instance, was looking for a romantic floral pattern to echo the muted red fabric she’d had, but ended up with a bright jungle print.
“You can always say no later, so this is the moment to push yourself out of your comfort zone and have fun and explore,” said Wajnberg, who sends clients swatches so they can put them in the room, mull it over, solicit opinions, “let their pet play with it and see if they can destroy it,” and “come to a leisurely decision.” And, she said, “if you get home and you want beige, you get beige.”
Judy Mann was looking for green. Her armchair had been fading in the sun. “It was going from this magnificent pattern to kind of grayish nothing,” she told me on Zoom. She turned to Wajnberg, her neighbor, for help. “She’s warm and charming and has a sparkle to her,” said Mann, who is the retired COO of Jewish Funders Network.
Mann’s armchair project cost around $2,300, including about $800 in labor costs. It was more than she’d intended to pay to replace or refresh her chair, mostly because of the pricey fabric. According to Wajnberg, people often underestimate the cost compared to the now-ubiquitous fast furniture. Reupholstering a simple dining chair might run $100, while a complex sofa might be $4,000 or $5,000. But Ruti “conveys confidence,” Mann said. “So if I was gonna spend this kind of money, I was quite sure it was going to be worthwhile.”
Together, Mann and Wajnberg selected an arresting pattern of colorful, overgrown flowers — “wild meadow free spirit vibes,” as Wajnberg put it on Instagram. It was a departure from the green “tribal” pattern of the original chair but still fit the color scheme. “It ended up being way better than I imagined,” Mann said.
“It’s extraordinarily beautiful, in my opinion,” she said. “I’m always shocked if someone comes in and doesn’t comment about the chair.”
For Mann, Ellman, and others who have a sentimental attachment to the furniture they bring her, Wajnberg has a surprise: She makes them a small pillow out of the original fabric. “Oftentimes it’s the fabric underneath the cushion or somewhere out of the way that reveals the true color,” she said. “I’ll try to find a piece that’s vibrant, which I think is really emotional for people, because sometimes they haven’t seen it that way in so long.”
In the two years since Wajnberg started Find the Thread, she’s reupholstered everything from a settee inherited from a late grandfather’s vintage store to the chairs at Pitt’s, a new Red Hook restaurant by Agi’s Counter chef Jeremy Salamon, to a neighbor’s grandparents’ Torah scroll.
Wajnberg can’t say for sure that this is the final stop on her winding career path, but right now, it feels right. “I feel so much more like I’m part of this humming local economy than I used to when I was making things on the internet that faraway people would use,” she said.
The post You see an ugly ottoman or a faded armchair; she sees a lost history waiting to be revived appeared first on The Forward.
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Important North Carolina Democrats Said Zionists Are Nazis — Many People Are Okay With It
Anderson Clayton, chair of the North Carolina Democratic Party, speaks after Democrat Josh Stein won the North Carolina governor’s race, in Raleigh, North Carolina, US, Nov. 5, 2024. Photo: REUTERS/Jonathan Drake
The North Carolina Democratic Party is at war with itself over Israel and antisemitism.
Earlier this month, I reported that leaders from the North Carolina Democratic Party’s (NCDP) Muslim Caucus had recently made hateful posts on social media. Elyas Mohammed, president of the caucus, described Zionists as “Nazis” and “a threat to humanity.”
Jibril Hough, first vice president of the same caucus, said “Zionism is a branch of racism/white supremacy and must be fought with the same intensity.” He described Zionists as the “worst of humanity.”
This month, Hough posted that Jeffrey Epstein could be alive and in hiding in Israel as part of a US/Israel conspiracy.
Now, two prominent North Carolina Democratic leaders have strongly condemned the statements by Muslim Caucus leaders.
Gov. Josh Stein told Jewish Insider (JI), “Antisemitic comments and conspiracy theories have no place anywhere, including in the North Carolina Democratic Party.”
Former Gov. and current Senatorial candidate Roy Cooper (D) told JI, “These reprehensible posts were an unacceptable expression of antisemitism and I condemn them in the strongest of terms.”
Stein and Cooper’s comments came promptly after many letters were sent by community members, including a powerful letter co-signed by the four local Jewish Federations directed to Gov. Stein and party officials. The Federations explained:
As Jews in North Carolina who support the existence of the State of Israel, and who represent broad cross-sections of our state’s Jewish population, we find this language hate-filled, insensitive, inflammatory, and threatening. It is incompatible with the standards of responsible civic leadership and it should disqualify any individual from holding a leadership role within a political party structure. Immediate corrective action is required.
The American Jewish Congress thanked Stein and Cooper for “making clear that antisemitism and conspiracy theories are unacceptable in the North Carolina Democratic Party.” The NCDP Jewish Caucus also thanked Stein and Cooper.
Mohammed and Hough responded by quickly doubling down on their statements, likely knowing that many in the party would support them.
Mohammed pinned (placed) his post calling Zionists “Nazis” to the top of his Facebook account.
Hough shared The Algemeiner column reporting his comments to social media, proudly quoting himself saying Zionists are the “worst of humanity.”
Rather than apologize, the Muslim Caucus issued a statement defending Mohammed, proclaiming, “We will not be silenced.” The NCDP Arab Caucus also re-posted a statement defending Mohammed.
Last week, the Jewish Democrats were asked on Facebook, “Do you accept Zionists?” Without answering directly, the Jewish Democrats of NCDP responded, “we accept everyone who treats human beings with dignity.” These comments were then promptly removed or hidden from public view.
Rev. Dr. Paul McAllister is chair of the NCDP’s Interfaith Caucus. The day after Stein and Cooper forcefully rejected Mohammed and Hough’s comments, McAllister posted a photo of himself on social media standing with Hough.
This comes as no surprise. McAllister is well known as a man who promotes hatred towards Israel. For example, McAllister endorsed and spoke on a panel, “The Genocide in Palestine,” which prominently featured Leila Khaled on the flyer. Khaled is a convicted hijacker and member of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine, designated as a terrorist organization by the US government.
A small Jewish, anti-Israel subgroup of McAllister’s Interfaith Caucus posted on social media, “WE STAND IN SOLIDARITY WITH ELYAS MOHAMMED.”
This subgroup, or sub-caucus, calls itself Jewish Democrats of NCDP and is openly referred to by supporters as the “non-Zionist caucus.”
Many Democrats believe this non-Zionist group was created to confuse the public into believing that Jews in North Carolina do not support Israel. The confusion is real and likely widespread.
For example, in a recent social media post, a commenter expressed confusion trying to distinguish between the much larger NCDP Jewish Caucus — which represents broad Jewish interests and statewide constituencies — and the very small Jewish Democrats of NCDP, which is the anti-Zionist sub-caucus.
Jewish Democratic leaders across the state have told me they believe the NCDP is violating its own rules by essentially allowing two Jewish caucuses. The NCDP’s Plan of Organization clearly states, “The party will recognize a single auxiliary or caucus for any specific purpose.”
Democrats point out that, for example, there are not two African-American caucuses or two LGBTQ caucuses that are trying to push different viewpoints. Democrats emphasize this is another example of how state party leaders implicitly allow, or even encourage, targeting and demonization of Israel and Zionists.
Jeffrey Bierer is a current member of the Democratic Party’s State Executive Committee. Speaking for himself and not any organization, he told me, “At least four of us [Jewish Caucus members] paid dues to the Interfaith Caucus and we never received any confirmation or information back.”
Bierer also told me he paid separate dues to the Interfaith Caucus’ Jewish Democrats group with the same result.
Bierer said, “We were 100% friendly and respectful and said we would like to get involved. We didn’t get any response. Zero response.”
I reached out to the Jewish Caucus regarding this issue. They provided me a statement that began:
In an effort to bridge religious and political divides, a few of our members attempted to join the NCDP Interfaith Caucus. Initially their membership fees were accepted, then when those members inquired about the lack of regular communication and meeting times, their money was later returned.
It is evident that the North Carolina Democratic Party should investigate this potential discrimination against Jewish members and members who identify with Israel.
The Muslim Caucus is newly formed and currently in the review process seeking “final approval” by the NCDP. The Muslim Caucus is prominently displayed on the NCDP’s website featuring Elyas Mohammed under the heading, “OUR PEOPLE.”
According to the NCDP’s Plan of Organization, caucuses are not just advocacy groups — they are included in, and contribute to, significant decision making and planning within the party.
The document explains, “Caucuses shall be represented on the NCDP Executive Council, the NCDP State Legislative Policy Committee and the Platform and Resolutions Committee by the State President or designated representative and participate in strategic planning for the NCDP.”
I have contacted State Chair Anderson Clayton and First Vice Chair Jonah Garson twice over the past few weeks, sending them quotes, links, and screenshots regarding the comments from Muslim Caucus leaders. They have not responded. Unlike Stein and Cooper, Clayton and Garson have not publicly denounced the comments made by caucus leaders.
Antisemitism within the NCDP is a systemic problem that goes well beyond a few caucus leaders. The NCDP has been targeting Israel for years. For example, on Saturday, June 28, 2025 — during Shabbat — the party passed six anti-Israel resolutions. One of these resolutions even accused Israel of taking “Palestinian hostages.”
Clayton has appeared in smiling photographs with Mohammed and Jibril over the past few years. It is expected and normal that a chair of a state party stands with caucus leaders. But now that Mohammed and Jibril have clearly distinguished themselves as hateful and have targeted a large share of the Jewish Democrats in North Carolina who believe Israel has a right to exist, it is also expected that Clayton and Garson publicly denounce these hateful statements. They have not.
Their silence sends a message that Jewish members of the North Carolina Democratic Party, and all members who support Israel’s right to exist, are not valued or respected.
Rabbi Emeritus Fred Guttman of Temple Emanuel in Greensboro, who formerly served on the executive committee of the state’s Democratic Party, explained:
What has occurred demonizes Jewish supporters of Israel and increases the risk of violent acts against Jews in North Carolina. This is extremely serious…Those in leadership positions should continue to speak out clearly and condemn it…Leadership carries responsibility, and failure to address antisemitism undermines the safety and integrity of the community. We certainly do not need a repeat in North Carolina of tragedies such as Bondi Beach, Manchester, England, or the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh.
The North Carolina Democratic Party should take prompt action to unequivocally demonstrate that antisemitism, and discrimination against Jews and those who identify with Israel, will not be tolerated. Jewish safety — and equal treatment for all — depends on it.
Peter Reitzes writes about antisemitism in North Carolina and beyond.
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Berlin film festival fends off criticism after jury president Wim Wenders rebuffs calls to criticize Israel
(JTA) — BERLIN — The renowned Indian author Arundhati Roy has announced she will not attend Berlin’s annual international film festival over its jury’s refusal to comment on the war in Gaza.
Dozens of past and present participants in the Berlinale, meanwhile, are criticizing the festival for its “silence” on Gaza in an open letter published on Tuesday. They include Javier Bardem, Tilda Swinton, and Nan Goldin.
Both actions follow comments by the president of the festival’s jury, the renowned director Wim Wenders, appearing to argue that art should be apolitical.
“We have to stay out of politics because if we made movies that are dedicatedly political, we enter the field of politics, but we are the counterweight to politics,” Wenders said during the first press conference of the Berlinale on Thursday. “We have to do the work of people, not the work of politicians.”
Wenders was responding to a question from a journalist who accused the festival of showing solidarity with people in Iran and Ukraine, but not with Palestinians. The journalist asked the jury whether it supported a “selective treatment of human rights,” knowing that “the German government supports the genocide in Gaza and is the Berlinale’s main financial backer.”
Another jury member, the Polish film producer Ewa Puszczynska, said that it was “not fair” to ask the judges about government positions on the war in Gaza.
Following the comments, Roy, who has long criticized Israel’s conduct in Gaza, announced her withdrawal from the festival, calling the statement “unconscionable.”
“To hear them say that art should not be political is jaw-dropping,” Roy said. “It is a way of shutting down a conversation about a crime against humanity even as it unfolds before us in real time – when artists, writers and film-makers should be doing everything in their power to stop it.”
The controversy comes as the Berlinale opens in a tense climate vis-a-vis the war in Gaza. While the festival has long cultivated a reputation as one of the more overtly political major film festivals, Germany has maintained firm prohibitions on some forms of Israel criticism even as challenges to its conduct in Gaza have surged among many Germans and artists worldwide.
In 2024, the same year the festival invited and later disinvited members of the far-right party Alternative for Germany, the Berlinale filed criminal charges against an employee who posted an unapproved message about Gaza on its Instagram page.
Now, in defense of its jury, the festival issued a statement on Saturday saying that “artists are free to exercise their right of free speech in whatever way they choose.”
“Artists should not be expected to comment on all broader debates about a festival’s previous or current practices over which they have no control,” wrote festival director Tricia Tuttle. “Nor should they be expected to speak on every political issue raised to them unless they want to.”
Defending the artists and jury, Tuttle lamented that filmmakers increasingly “are expected to answer any question put to them. They are criticised if they do not answer. They are criticised if they answer and we do not like what they say. They are criticised if they cannot compress complex thoughts into a brief sound bite when a microphone is placed in front of them when they thought they were speaking about something else.”
Several films at the festival focus on the Israel-Palestinian conflict, some more directly than others. They include a recut version of “A Letter to David,” a documentary that premiered last year about an Israeli hostage in Gaza who has since been released.
Following a screening of her short film about a boy in Lebanon who lives against the backdrop of Israeli warplanes overhead, meanwhile, director Marie-Rose Osta told the audience that, in case they did not know where Lebanon is, it is “north of Palestine, which some of you may call Israel.”
Roy, in a statement issued by her publisher, said that art should in fact be political, and accused the jury of stifling discussion “about a crime against humanity.” She called the statements by the jury “outrageous.”
A film festival spokesperson told the Juedische Allgemeine, the German Jewish newspaper, that it regretted Roy’s decision, “as her presence would have enriched the festival discourse.” A 1989 film based on her screenplay, “In Which Annie Gives It Those Ones,” is showing in the festival’s classics section.
The post Berlin film festival fends off criticism after jury president Wim Wenders rebuffs calls to criticize Israel appeared first on The Forward.
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How to Respond When Your Friends Cite Hamas’ Casualty Numbers
The head of an anti-Hamas faction, Hussam Alastal, fires a weapon in the air as he is surrounded by masked gunmen, in an Israeli-held area in Khan Younis, in the southern Gaza Strip, in this screenshot taken from a video released Nov. 21, 2025. Photo: Hussam Alastal/via REUTERS
Not long ago, a very intelligent friend asked me a sincere question.
He wanted to know whether, as a Zionist, I was disturbed by what he took to be a settled fact: that Israel had “killed 300 people in a tent while trying to get one terrorist.”
He wasn’t hostile. He wasn’t chanting slogans. He was genuinely troubled and trying to reconcile that number with my support for Israel.
What shocked me was not the question itself, but the assumption behind it. He works with numbers for a living, yet it had not occurred to him to ask the most basic question: “Is that figure actually true, and who produced it?” He had simply absorbed it as unquestionable reality.
When I explained that such numbers almost always trace back to Hamas-run institutions in Gaza, laundered through media outlets and NGOs that treat them as neutral sources, it was clearly a new way of looking at the war for him.
The conversation revealed something I see on a much larger scale: people who would never trust Hamas with their bank account are trusting it with their moral judgment.
When I describe Hamas’ listed death toll in Gaza, I describe it as the “casualty-number war.” It’s not just about how many people have died. It’s about who is doing the counting, what they are counting, and how those numbers are deployed to turn a complicated war into a morality play with ready-made villains and victims.
Hamas understands this perfectly. Its “Ministry of Health” in Gaza is not some independent public health office. It is part of a totalitarian structure that answers to the same regime that launched the October 7 massacre, embeds fighters and rocket launchers among civilians, and openly celebrates “martyrdom.”
Yet Western media outlets, NGOs, and politicians routinely preface their coverage with the same passive formulation: “According to the Gaza Health Ministry, more than X thousand people have been killed…”
Once that sentence is accepted as neutral, the argument is already half lost.
These headline numbers blur together every possible category of death: combatants and non-combatants, people killed by Hamas’ own rockets or internal violence, people who died of illness or old age, and people whose deaths are simply unverifiable.
There is rarely a breakdown by cause, location, or affiliation. The message is not “here is our best attempt at a complex casualty record.” The message is, “Israel killed this many people; now explain yourself.”
Western institutions, meanwhile, have powerful incentives to accept this framing. Journalists on deadline want a single, authoritative-sounding figure. NGOs need dramatic numbers to drive fundraising and campaigns. Politicians want an easy way to signal moral outrage without learning the underlying details. “According to Gaza’s Health Ministry…” gives them all exactly what they want.
The result is that Hamas’ tally becomes something close to sacred. To question it is treated as denial of suffering, rather than as basic due diligence.
To be clear, this does not mean that the real toll of the war is small, or that civilian deaths are imaginary. They are not. Wars in dense urban environments, against enemies who hide behind civilians, are always tragic. But tragedy does not excuse deception, and compassion does not require us to outsource moral judgment to a terrorist organization.
There is another trap we must avoid, however, and it lies on “our” side of the argument.
Recently, a claim circulated online that Hamas had “admitted” to losing 50,000 fighters and was preparing to pay stipends to their widows. It was an appealing narrative: if true, it would imply that the majority of Gaza’s war dead were Hamas’ own armed operatives, not civilians. Many people repeated it enthusiastically.
The problem is that the underlying evidence does not support such certainty. The 50,000 figure appears to come from extrapolations about an aid program for widows and vague statements in local media, not from a clear, formal admission of combatant deaths by Hamas itself. Israel’s own estimates of Hamas and Palestinian Islamic Jihad fighters killed are much lower — on the order of tens of thousands, but not double that.
In other words, some of Hamas’ critics were tempted to do what they rightly accuse Hamas of doing: leaping from suggestive data to definitive, emotionally satisfying numbers.
That may feel good in the moment, but it ultimately weakens our case. If we want the world to take casualty manipulation seriously, we have to hold ourselves to a higher standard than Hamas does.
So how should we think and talk about Gaza casualty numbers?
First, always ask who is counting. A figure produced by a Hamas-run bureaucracy and laundered through sympathetic NGOs is not equivalent to an independent forensic assessment. That does not mean every number is automatically false; it means we must treat it as a political artifact, not a neutral statistic.
Second, ask what is being counted. Are natural deaths and pre-existing illnesses being folded into “war fatalities”? Are internal killings, executions of “collaborators,” gang violence, and misfired rockets landing in Gaza all being quietly attributed to Israel?
Are combatants and non-combatants being distinguished, or are they all being described as “civilians,” “women,” and “children”? If those questions are not being asked, the headline number is not serious.
Third, examine the incentives. Hamas gains strategically every time the West believes that almost every death in Gaza is an innocent civilian killed by the Israel Defense Forces. That perception fuels accusations of “genocide,” drives diplomatic pressure, and legitimizes further violence under the banner of “resistance.”
Conversely, Hamas has every incentive to hide its own fighters among civilians, both physically and statistically.
Fourth, be honest about uncertainty. We will probably never know the exact distribution of deaths in Gaza by category. That is the nature of war, especially in closed, authoritarian environments. But we can say, with confidence, that the picture is far more complex than the nightly news suggests.
We know that a significant share of the dead are combatants. We know that some deaths are caused by Hamas’ own actions, whether through misfires or internal violence. We know that some reported “war casualties” would have occurred from natural causes even in peacetime. A morally serious discourse must reflect that complexity.
For ordinary readers and viewers, the question becomes: what can I actually do when confronted with someone like my friend, who has been told that Israel “killed 300 people in a tent to get one terrorist” and accepted it as unquestionable fact?
A few simple moves can help:
- Slow the conversation down. Instead of arguing about whether 300 is “too many,” start with “Who gave you that number?” That alone often changes the entire frame.
- Separate grief from propaganda. It is possible to say, “Every innocent life lost is a tragedy,” while also saying, “That does not mean Hamas’ numbers are accurate, or that Israel is committing the crimes you’ve been told about.”
- Insist on categories, not just totals. Ask whether the figure distinguishes between terrorists and non-terrorists, between people killed by Hamas and those killed by Israel, between battlefield fatalities and natural deaths. Most numbers in circulation do not.
- Refuse to play by Hamas’ rules. Do not feel compelled to accept a Hamas-run institution’s tally as the starting point for every moral conversation. We are not obligated to let Israel’s enemies define the terms of debate, whether in language or in arithmetic.
My friend and I ended our conversation on good terms. He did not walk away with a perfect spreadsheet of Gaza casualties — neither of us has one. But he did walk away with a new question lodged in his mind: “Why am I letting Hamas tell me what to think?”
That, ultimately, is the goal. If we care about truth, about Israel’s legitimacy, and about the real human beings — Jews and Arabs alike — whose lives are at stake, we cannot allow a terrorist organization to be the world’s official statistician. We do not have to accept a calculator held in the same hands that fired the rockets and sent the “martyrs.”
We can insist on something better: honest categories, transparent methods, and a refusal to surrender our moral judgment to those who openly seek our destruction.
David E. Firester, Ph.D., is the Founder and CEO of TRAC Intelligence, LLC, and the author of Failure to Adapt: How Strategic Blindness Undermines Intelligence, Warfare, and Perception (2025).