Podcasts about ashkenazi

My recent interview with Rabbi Dr. Yosie Levine about his book, Hakham Tsevi Ashkenazi and the Battlegrounds of the Early Modern Rabbinate (Littman Library, 2024), illuminated the dynamic interplay between Sephardi and Ashkenazi traditions-a theme that resonates deeply with our mission at the Unity Through Diversity Institute. From the outset, Rabbi Levine's scholarship made clear that Hakham Tsevi's life was shaped by both geography and intellectual inheritance. The map at the beginning of his book, as he notes, is more than a visual aid; it is a testament to the diverse worlds Hakham Tsevi traversed. What struck me most was Hakham Tsevi's dual heritage. Raised in the Ashkenazi tradition, his formative years were marked by the customs and halakhic frameworks of Central and Eastern Europe. However, his sojourn in the Ottoman Empire brought him into close contact with the Sephardi world. This was not a mere footnote in his biography; it fundamentally altered his worldview and rabbinic outlook. The mere fact that he is called Hakham, a term of Rabbinic authority used by Sephardi Jews, yet insisted on only taking posts in Ashkenazi institutions, shows a menagerie of influences and appreciation for the diverse Jewish influences within halakhic practice. Rabbi Levine and I discussed how, despite his Ashkenazi roots, and adherence to his Ashkenazi traditions, Hakham Tsevi's training among Sephardim left an indelible mark. This influence became evident in his encouragement for scholars to prioritize accessible texts and to remain wary of the potential misuse of mystical works-a stance that echoed the concerns of Sephardi rabbis as books became more widely available. And the Sephardic influence may also be seen in his approach to education – much in line with the Sephardic philosophy, he recommended a TaNaKh first and then mishna focused curriculum with Talmud coming only after true comprehension and Kabbalah only for those who are truly gifted and fully fluent in all the other texts. “Hakham Tsevi broke new ground. He adopted a decidedly oppositional orientation towards minhag and freely attacked long-standing Ashkenazi traditions. He imported into his halakhic decisions practices from the Sephardi milieu, and advocated for a Sephardi educational curriculum.” (Rabbi Dr. Yosie Levine, p. 131) Hakham Tsevi's life demonstrates that Jewish identity is not static; it is forged in dialogue, sometimes in tension, but always in pursuit of a richer, more inclusive heritage. As we continue our work at the Unity Through Diversity Institute, Hakham Tsevi's example inspires us to embrace complexity, to learn from one another, and to honor the multiple strands that make up the fabric of Jewish life. “Before his tombstone was destroyed by the Nazis, it was adorned with the image of a gazelle, a tsevi. Moving swiftly and confidently from one field to the next, Hakham Tsevi was attacked often by adversaries who thought themselves wiser or more capable. Perhaps some of them were. But those adversaries never stopped him from speaking his mind, rendering his legal decisions, or publishing his rulings. In fact, they often compelled him to act or react…Students of halakhah remember him by the answers he generated; students of history, by the questions.” (Rabbi Dr. Yosie Levine, conclusion) I am grateful to Rabbi Levine for shedding light on this remarkable figure and hope we find this passion to challenge the norm and raise the difficult questions in more leaders. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/intellectual-history

My recent interview with Rabbi Dr. Yosie Levine about his book, Hakham Tsevi Ashkenazi and the Battlegrounds of the Early Modern Rabbinate (Littman Library, 2024), illuminated the dynamic interplay between Sephardi and Ashkenazi traditions-a theme that resonates deeply with our mission at the Unity Through Diversity Institute. From the outset, Rabbi Levine's scholarship made clear that Hakham Tsevi's life was shaped by both geography and intellectual inheritance. The map at the beginning of his book, as he notes, is more than a visual aid; it is a testament to the diverse worlds Hakham Tsevi traversed. What struck me most was Hakham Tsevi's dual heritage. Raised in the Ashkenazi tradition, his formative years were marked by the customs and halakhic frameworks of Central and Eastern Europe. However, his sojourn in the Ottoman Empire brought him into close contact with the Sephardi world. This was not a mere footnote in his biography; it fundamentally altered his worldview and rabbinic outlook. The mere fact that he is called Hakham, a term of Rabbinic authority used by Sephardi Jews, yet insisted on only taking posts in Ashkenazi institutions, shows a menagerie of influences and appreciation for the diverse Jewish influences within halakhic practice. Rabbi Levine and I discussed how, despite his Ashkenazi roots, and adherence to his Ashkenazi traditions, Hakham Tsevi's training among Sephardim left an indelible mark. This influence became evident in his encouragement for scholars to prioritize accessible texts and to remain wary of the potential misuse of mystical works-a stance that echoed the concerns of Sephardi rabbis as books became more widely available. And the Sephardic influence may also be seen in his approach to education – much in line with the Sephardic philosophy, he recommended a TaNaKh first and then mishna focused curriculum with Talmud coming only after true comprehension and Kabbalah only for those who are truly gifted and fully fluent in all the other texts. “Hakham Tsevi broke new ground. He adopted a decidedly oppositional orientation towards minhag and freely attacked long-standing Ashkenazi traditions. He imported into his halakhic decisions practices from the Sephardi milieu, and advocated for a Sephardi educational curriculum.” (Rabbi Dr. Yosie Levine, p. 131) Hakham Tsevi's life demonstrates that Jewish identity is not static; it is forged in dialogue, sometimes in tension, but always in pursuit of a richer, more inclusive heritage. As we continue our work at the Unity Through Diversity Institute, Hakham Tsevi's example inspires us to embrace complexity, to learn from one another, and to honor the multiple strands that make up the fabric of Jewish life. “Before his tombstone was destroyed by the Nazis, it was adorned with the image of a gazelle, a tsevi. Moving swiftly and confidently from one field to the next, Hakham Tsevi was attacked often by adversaries who thought themselves wiser or more capable. Perhaps some of them were. But those adversaries never stopped him from speaking his mind, rendering his legal decisions, or publishing his rulings. In fact, they often compelled him to act or react…Students of halakhah remember him by the answers he generated; students of history, by the questions.” (Rabbi Dr. Yosie Levine, conclusion) I am grateful to Rabbi Levine for shedding light on this remarkable figure and hope we find this passion to challenge the norm and raise the difficult questions in more leaders. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/biography

My recent interview with Rabbi Dr. Yosie Levine about his book, Hakham Tsevi Ashkenazi and the Battlegrounds of the Early Modern Rabbinate (Littman Library, 2024), illuminated the dynamic interplay between Sephardi and Ashkenazi traditions-a theme that resonates deeply with our mission at the Unity Through Diversity Institute. From the outset, Rabbi Levine's scholarship made clear that Hakham Tsevi's life was shaped by both geography and intellectual inheritance. The map at the beginning of his book, as he notes, is more than a visual aid; it is a testament to the diverse worlds Hakham Tsevi traversed. What struck me most was Hakham Tsevi's dual heritage. Raised in the Ashkenazi tradition, his formative years were marked by the customs and halakhic frameworks of Central and Eastern Europe. However, his sojourn in the Ottoman Empire brought him into close contact with the Sephardi world. This was not a mere footnote in his biography; it fundamentally altered his worldview and rabbinic outlook. The mere fact that he is called Hakham, a term of Rabbinic authority used by Sephardi Jews, yet insisted on only taking posts in Ashkenazi institutions, shows a menagerie of influences and appreciation for the diverse Jewish influences within halakhic practice. Rabbi Levine and I discussed how, despite his Ashkenazi roots, and adherence to his Ashkenazi traditions, Hakham Tsevi's training among Sephardim left an indelible mark. This influence became evident in his encouragement for scholars to prioritize accessible texts and to remain wary of the potential misuse of mystical works-a stance that echoed the concerns of Sephardi rabbis as books became more widely available. And the Sephardic influence may also be seen in his approach to education – much in line with the Sephardic philosophy, he recommended a TaNaKh first and then mishna focused curriculum with Talmud coming only after true comprehension and Kabbalah only for those who are truly gifted and fully fluent in all the other texts. “Hakham Tsevi broke new ground. He adopted a decidedly oppositional orientation towards minhag and freely attacked long-standing Ashkenazi traditions. He imported into his halakhic decisions practices from the Sephardi milieu, and advocated for a Sephardi educational curriculum.” (Rabbi Dr. Yosie Levine, p. 131) Hakham Tsevi's life demonstrates that Jewish identity is not static; it is forged in dialogue, sometimes in tension, but always in pursuit of a richer, more inclusive heritage. As we continue our work at the Unity Through Diversity Institute, Hakham Tsevi's example inspires us to embrace complexity, to learn from one another, and to honor the multiple strands that make up the fabric of Jewish life. “Before his tombstone was destroyed by the Nazis, it was adorned with the image of a gazelle, a tsevi. Moving swiftly and confidently from one field to the next, Hakham Tsevi was attacked often by adversaries who thought themselves wiser or more capable. Perhaps some of them were. But those adversaries never stopped him from speaking his mind, rendering his legal decisions, or publishing his rulings. In fact, they often compelled him to act or react…Students of halakhah remember him by the answers he generated; students of history, by the questions.” (Rabbi Dr. Yosie Levine, conclusion) I am grateful to Rabbi Levine for shedding light on this remarkable figure and hope we find this passion to challenge the norm and raise the difficult questions in more leaders. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

My recent interview with Rabbi Dr. Yosie Levine about his book, Hakham Tsevi Ashkenazi and the Battlegrounds of the Early Modern Rabbinate (Littman Library, 2024), illuminated the dynamic interplay between Sephardi and Ashkenazi traditions-a theme that resonates deeply with our mission at the Unity Through Diversity Institute. From the outset, Rabbi Levine's scholarship made clear that Hakham Tsevi's life was shaped by both geography and intellectual inheritance. The map at the beginning of his book, as he notes, is more than a visual aid; it is a testament to the diverse worlds Hakham Tsevi traversed. What struck me most was Hakham Tsevi's dual heritage. Raised in the Ashkenazi tradition, his formative years were marked by the customs and halakhic frameworks of Central and Eastern Europe. However, his sojourn in the Ottoman Empire brought him into close contact with the Sephardi world. This was not a mere footnote in his biography; it fundamentally altered his worldview and rabbinic outlook. The mere fact that he is called Hakham, a term of Rabbinic authority used by Sephardi Jews, yet insisted on only taking posts in Ashkenazi institutions, shows a menagerie of influences and appreciation for the diverse Jewish influences within halakhic practice. Rabbi Levine and I discussed how, despite his Ashkenazi roots, and adherence to his Ashkenazi traditions, Hakham Tsevi's training among Sephardim left an indelible mark. This influence became evident in his encouragement for scholars to prioritize accessible texts and to remain wary of the potential misuse of mystical works-a stance that echoed the concerns of Sephardi rabbis as books became more widely available. And the Sephardic influence may also be seen in his approach to education – much in line with the Sephardic philosophy, he recommended a TaNaKh first and then mishna focused curriculum with Talmud coming only after true comprehension and Kabbalah only for those who are truly gifted and fully fluent in all the other texts. “Hakham Tsevi broke new ground. He adopted a decidedly oppositional orientation towards minhag and freely attacked long-standing Ashkenazi traditions. He imported into his halakhic decisions practices from the Sephardi milieu, and advocated for a Sephardi educational curriculum.” (Rabbi Dr. Yosie Levine, p. 131) Hakham Tsevi's life demonstrates that Jewish identity is not static; it is forged in dialogue, sometimes in tension, but always in pursuit of a richer, more inclusive heritage. As we continue our work at the Unity Through Diversity Institute, Hakham Tsevi's example inspires us to embrace complexity, to learn from one another, and to honor the multiple strands that make up the fabric of Jewish life. “Before his tombstone was destroyed by the Nazis, it was adorned with the image of a gazelle, a tsevi. Moving swiftly and confidently from one field to the next, Hakham Tsevi was attacked often by adversaries who thought themselves wiser or more capable. Perhaps some of them were. But those adversaries never stopped him from speaking his mind, rendering his legal decisions, or publishing his rulings. In fact, they often compelled him to act or react…Students of halakhah remember him by the answers he generated; students of history, by the questions.” (Rabbi Dr. Yosie Levine, conclusion) I am grateful to Rabbi Levine for shedding light on this remarkable figure and hope we find this passion to challenge the norm and raise the difficult questions in more leaders. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/jewish-studies

#351> Sponsored by Gluck Plumbing.> To purchase "Hakham Tsevi Ashkenazi and the Battlegrounds of the Early Modern Rabbinate": https://amzn.to/4ihXnER> To join the SeforimChatter WhatsApp community: https://chat.whatsapp.com/DZ3C2CjUeD9AGJvXeEODtK>  To support the podcast or to sponsor an episode follow this link: https://seforimchatter.com/support-seforimchatter/or email seforimchatter@gmail.com (Zelle/QP this email address)Support the show

Join Authentically Us, a community and support space for late blooming lesbians! Find us at https://www.annemariezanzal.comLotus Community Coaching is a 6-month program for women who are reevaluating their sexual identity, coming out as LGBTQIA+, and transitioning from a straight, married life to an independent life. If you're struggling and need help during this challenging time, learn what Lotus Community Coaching can offer you: https://annemariezanzal.com/lotus-community-coaching/Questioning is a fundamental aspect of Jewish tradition and learning. In this spirituality-focused episode, host Anne-Marie Zanzal and LGBTQIA+ activist, Rebecca Staple Wax, explore the intersections of queer, family, and faith identities in the context of Jewish community. Rebecca is the director of the Southern Jewish Resource Network for Gender and Sexual Diversity (SOJOURN) in Atlanta. Rebecca shares her personal experiences of coming out and her journey to find a welcoming Jewish community. Historical awareness is a running theme in this episode as Anne-Marie and Rebecca delve into Jewish history, particularly focusing on Ashkenazi traditions, and the importance of questioning within the faith. They discuss the evolution of LGBTQIA+ representation in Jewish communities and the significance of understanding diverse identities in contemporary society. There is an emphasis on the need for open conversations about faith, history, and identity, highlighting the role of community in supporting individuals navigating their spiritual and personal journeys.❓ What to Expect in This Episode:

Join Authentically Us, a community and support space for late blooming lesbians! Find us at https://www.annemariezanzal.comLotus Community Coaching is a 6-month program for women who are reevaluating their sexual identity, coming out as LGBTQIA+, and transitioning from a straight, married life to an independent life. If you're struggling and need help during this challenging time, learn what Lotus Community Coaching can offer you: https://annemariezanzal.com/lotus-community-coaching/Questioning is a fundamental aspect of Jewish tradition and learning. In this spirituality-focused episode, host Anne-Marie Zanzal and LGBTQIA+ activist, Rebecca Stapel-Wax, explore the intersections of queer, family, and faith identities in the context of Jewish community. Rebecca is the director of the Southern Jewish Resource Network for Gender and Sexual Diversity (SOJOURN) in Atlanta. Rebecca shares her personal experiences of coming out and her journey to find a welcoming Jewish community. Historical awareness is a running theme in this episode as Anne-Marie and Rebecca delve into Jewish history, particularly focusing on Ashkenazi traditions, and the importance of questioning within the faith. They discuss the evolution of LGBTQIA+ representation in Jewish communities and the significance of understanding diverse identities in contemporary society. There is an emphasis on the need for open conversations about faith, history, and identity, highlighting the role of community in supporting individuals navigating their spiritual and personal journeys.❓ What to Expect in This Episode:

This week's highlights: We welcome back Rabbi Yitzchok-Boruch Teitelbaum, known in his Monroe, NY, community as der Pshischer Rebbe, for Pesach greetings and words of wisdom. We meet Chazan Dr. Moshe Moskovitz, the High Holiday cantor at Los Angeles's Congregation Shaarei Tefila, to discuss his background, his yiches (he's the grandson of two post-war Carpathian cantors), and his journey into chazones (the musical art of leading Jewish prayer in the Ashkenazi tradition), as well as Pesach from a cantorial perspective — guiding us through several cantorial recordings along the way. Pesach greetings from many of our cohosts, friends and sponsors, as follows: Israel Book Shop (Eli Dovek ז״ל recorded Mar 28 2007) American Association of Jewish Holocaust Survivors of Greater Boston (member and Holocaust survivor Tania Lefman, and member and Holocaust survivor Mary Erlich), co-sponsor of Boston's 2025 In-Person and Virtual Community Holocaust Commemoration of Yom HaShoah, Sunday, April 27 at 10:30 AM Eastern. (Registration required.) We reached them at their homes in Greater Boston by phone on April 9, 2025. Yetta Kane, Holocaust survivor and rebbetzin in Los Angeles with whom we just completed an interview to be aired a little later this year. Recorded at her home in Long Beach on April 8, 2025. League for Yiddish, New York, NY, (Gitl Schaechter-Viswanath, Chair of the Board). Recorded at her home in Teaneck, NJ, on April 9, 2025. Leah Shporer-Leavitt, Newton, MA, co-host of The Yiddish Voice / דאָס ייִדישע קול (from 2024) Dovid Braun, Leonia, NJ, co-host of The Yiddish Voice / דאָס ייִדישע קול (from 2024) Yankele Bodo, Tel Aviv, Israel, actor and singer (from 2016) Eli Grodko, New Millford, NJ, friend of the show. Recorded at his home in Teaneck, NJ, on April 8, 2025. Boston Workers Circle, Brookline, MA (Yiddish committee member Linda (Libe-Reyzl) Gritz) Verterbukh.org, the online Comprehensive Yiddish-English Dictionary, Greater Boston (Khayem Bochner, co-editor and director of the online dictionary) Hy Wolfe, Director of CYCO Yiddish Book Center, Long Island City, NY (from 2020) We wish all our cohosts, sponsors and friends a Happy and Kosher Pesach. מיר ווינטשן אַלע אונדזערע אונטערשטיצער, פֿרײַנד און באַטייליקטע אַ פֿריילעכן און כּשרן פּסח Music: Moishe Oysher: Chad Gadyo Moshe Stern: Uvchein Yehi Ratzon Leibele Glantz: Tfilas Tal Moshe Ganchoff: Btses Yisroel Leibele Glantz: Ma Nishtono Nusach Moshe Koussevitzky: Fir Kashes Intro instrumental music: DEM HELFANDS TANTS, an instrumental track from the CD Jeff Warschauer: The Singing Waltz Air date: April 9, 2025

VERY IMPORTANT EPISODE!  DON'T SKIP OVER THIS ONE.Forgive the choppy audio beginning somwhere in the middle.  That was a rumble studio and internet issue that caused the encoding to get all weird, losing frames, not keeping sync, or whatever. But I did some things since then so hopefully it will not happen again.  Spectrum sucks :-)My Book: https://www.semperfryllc.com/store/p93/Priestcraft%3A_Beyond_Babylon_%28Signed_Copy%29.htmlWhile you're there get the Best Condiments this side of Valhalla.https://x.com/DisguiseLimitsPATREON Community to ChatGET AD-FREE and Exclusive Content: Become a Patron.https://Patreon.com/DisguisetheLimitsBEST HOT SAUCE of the Realm:https://SemperFryLLC.com to get Priestcraft: Beyond Babylon and AWESOME Hot Sauce 1STOPSHOP for 10% OFFStefan's Clinical Nutrition Fundraiser: https://gofund.me/679c4e65I was deleted from Spotify! If you absolutely must listen to podcasts instead of just listening to videos like I do, go here and FOLLOW:https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/ba-al-busters-broadcast--5100262Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/ba-al-busters-broadcast--5100262/support.

The Mishna in Masechet Pesahim lists the various vegetables that may be used to fulfill the Misva of Marror on the night of the Seder. The Rabbis teach us that these vegetables are listed in descending order of preference, and thus the first vegetable mentioned – Hazeret – is the most preferred vegetable to use for Marror. The Gemara identifies Hazeret as "Hasa," which alludes to the fact that the Almighty had mercy ("Has") on the Jewish People on the night of the Exodus. "Hasa" is generally understood as referring to lettuce. Strictly speaking, even iceberg lettuce may be used for Marror, though it is customary to use Romaine lettuce (perhaps because it is generally cleaner). The Bet Yosef (commentary to the Tur by Maran, Rav Yosef Karo, author of Shulhan Aruch) writes that although iceberg lettuce does not have a bitter taste, it is nevertheless suitable for Marror because it becomes bitter when it is left in the ground. The vegetable used for Marror does not have to actually taste bitter, but rather must be a vegetable that in general has a bitter taste. Thus, although the iceberg lettuce that is generally eaten has been removed from the ground before turning bitter, it may be used for Marror, and, as mentioned, it is in fact the preferred vegetable. Some Ashkenazim have the custom to use horseradish ("Chraine" in Yiddish), which is the third vegetable mentioned by the Mishna – "Tamcha." It appears that lettuce was not available in Ashkenazic lands, and so they had to resort to horseradish, and this then became their custom. We follow the custom of the Arizal (Rav Yishak Luria of Safed, 1534-1572) to place "Ulshin" – endives – at the center of the Seder plate, and then place lettuce on the bottom. It should be noted that one does not have to eat the endives, neither for Marror not for Korech (when we eat Masa and Marror together), though some have the custom to add some endives for Korech. One may, if necessary, combine different vegetables to reach the required quantity of Ke'zayit. Thus, one may combine some lettuce and some endives to reach a Ke'zayit. Likewise, an Ashkenazi who uses horseradish but finds it difficult to eat a Ke'zayit may add some lettuce or endives. The Rama (Rav Moshe Isserles of Cracow, 1525-1572) writes that if one cannot obtain any of the vegetables mentioned by the Mishna, then he may use any vegetable that has a bitter taste. The final item listed by the Mishna is "Marror," which could be understood to mean that if none of the other items are available, one may use any bitter-tasting vegetable. The Halachic authorities write that in such a case, one should not recite the Beracha of "Al Achilat Marror." Of course, one who uses lettuce for Marror must ensure that the lettuce is clean and free of insects, as otherwise he would be violating a prohibition by eating the Marror, as opposed to fulfilling a Misva. Nowadays one can purchase lettuce grown hydroponically or through other means that avoid infestation, and Hacham Ovadia Yosef strongly encouraged the use of this lettuce. Summary: According to Sephardic custom, Romaine lettuce should be used for Marror. One must ensure that the lettuce is free of insects. Although it is customary to use Romaine lettuce, one may, strictly speaking, use iceberg lettuce, as well. Our custom is to place endives in the center of the Seder plate, and place the lettuce at the bottom. One does not have to eat the endives, though some people add some endives to the Korech. If necessary, one may comine different forms of Marror to reach the required quantity of "Ke'zayit." If one cannot obtain any of these vegetables, he may use for Marror any bitter-tasting vegetable, but the Beracha of "Al Achilat Marror" should not be recited in such a case.

This Q&A explores the real-life struggles, doubts, and reflections of thoughtful Jews navigating the tension between tradition and modernity. From halakhic dilemmas and minhag clashes to deep theological questions about God, identity, and authority, the questions reflect a wide range of voices—across communities and continents—all seeking clarity, meaning, and connection within Torah and Jewish life. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Sponsored by Anonymous in Honor of Rav Breitowitz

In this episode, I chat with my coworker and first Israeli guest on the podcast, Shira Sa'ar! We talk about identity, culture, and the realities of life in Israel. We discuss the different Jewish subcultures in Israel, from Mizrahi to Ashkenazi, and compare them to Jewish communities in the U.S. Then we get into Shira's perspective on political correctness, stereotypes, and why Israeli discourse often leaves little room for complexity. Then, we finish off with a fun game comparing Israeli and American words and Yiddish slang! 0:00 - 7:22 | Shira's army service and upbringing 8:40 - 14:22 | Jewish subcultures in America vs. Israel 14:22 - 20:00 | Stereotypes, racism, and social divisions in Israel 20:00 - 25:30 | The role of nuance and complexity in Israeli discourse 25:30 - 32:39 | Dating norms, meeting the parents, and cultural expectations 32:39 - End | Israeli vs. American slang + Yiddish quiz

In today's episode, we fire up the time machine and head back to 2011 where Prince Andrew was reportedly panicking about his relationship with Epstein and what it might mean for him and his position as Trade envoy. According to Ashkenazi at the time, Andrew was scared that he would love his gig. We also see how quick David Cameron and the English government was to jump to Prince Andrew's defense when the rumors began to swirl showing you just how far the enabling and protection for Prince Andrew went up the ladder. (commercial at 11:35)to contact me:bobbycapucci@protonmail.comsource:https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1364248/Prince-Andrew-worried-Jeffrey-Epstein-sex-abuse-case-lose-envoy-role.html

In today's episode, we fire up the time machine and head back to 2011 where Prince Andrew was reportedly panicking about his relationship with Epstein and what it might mean for him and his position as Trade envoy. According to Ashkenazi at the time, Andrew was scared that he would love his gig. We also see how quick David Cameron and the English government was to jump to Prince Andrew's defense when the rumors began to swirl showing you just how far the enabling and protection for Prince Andrew went up the ladder. (commercial at 11:35)to contact me:bobbycapucci@protonmail.comsource:https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1364248/Prince-Andrew-worried-Jeffrey-Epstein-sex-abuse-case-lose-envoy-role.htmlBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/the-epstein-chronicles--5003294/support.

A person should hear the reading of Parashat Zachor on the Shabbat before Purim from a person who reads according to his tradition. Meaning, a Sepharadi should hear Parashat Zachor read by a Sepharadi, and an Ashkenazi should hear it read by an Ashkenazi. If a Sepharadi normally prays in an Ashkenazic Minyan, he should make a point to attend a Sephardic Minyan for the reading of Parashat Zachor, and vice versa. There are several differences in pronunciation between the Sepharadim and Ashkenazim, such as the pronunciation of the Kamatz vowel. Sepharadim pronounce the Kamatz as a Patah, and thus, for example, they pronounce God's Name as "Ado-NAI." Ashkenazim, however, pronounce the Name as "Ado-NOI." All year round, Halacha allows one to hear the Torah read according to a different custom, but since the reading of Parashat Zachor constitutes a Torah obligation, one should ensure to hear the reading pronounced according to his tradition. Indeed, the Hazon Ish (Rabbi Avraham Yeshaya Karelitz, 1879-1954) wrote a letter declaring that an Ashkenazi cannot fulfill the Misva of Zachor by hearing the section read by a Sepharadi. It must be emphasized that both traditions regarding Hebrew pronunciation are valid and have ancient roots. This is not a question of which is correct and which is incorrect; rather, "Elu Ve'elu Dibreh Elokim Hayim" – both customs are legitimate are grounded in ancient Torah tradition. Sepharadim and Ashkenazim should follow their respective customs, and when it comes to Shabbat Zachor, every person should ensure to hear the reading from somebody who reads according to his family tradition. Surprisingly, the Steipler Gaon (Rabbi Yisrael Yaakov Kanievsky, 1899-1985) wrote a letter asserting that the Sephardic pronunciation of the Kamatz is erroneous, and thus Sepharadim never recite Hashem's Name properly and never fulfill the Misvot involving Berachot and the like. Needless to say, it is quite astonishing to claim that all Sepharadim never properly fulfill these Misvot. Indeed, Rabbi Mazuz wrote a lengthy responsum refuting the Steipler Gaon's contention, and expressing his astonishment that somebody would advance such a claim. He cites numerous sources proving that Sepharadim have always pronounced a Kamatz as a Patah, and that this tradition is many centuries old. For example, Rabbi Shelomo Ibn Gabirol, in his rhyming Azharot hymn, writes, "Anochi Ado-nai, Keraticha Be-Sinai." He clearly intended for Hashem's Name to rhyme with "Sinai," even though the final vowel in Hashem's Name is a Kamatz, and the final vowel of "Sinai" is a Patah. This proves that he pronounced the two vowels identically. Similarly, Rabbi Yehuda Halevi wrote in the "Mi Kamocha Ve'en Kamocha" hymn which we sing on Shabbat Zachor, "Bi'ymeh Horpi Mi'kadmonai, Bi Diber Ru'ah Ado-nai." The word "Mi'kadmonai" – which ends with the Patah sound – is used to rhyme with Hashem's Name. Likewise, in the famous "Sur Mi'shelo" hymn which we sing on Shabbat, the word "Emunai" – which ends with a Patah vowel – is used to rhyme with Hashem's Name ("Sur Mi'shelo Achalnu Barechu Emunai, Sabanu Ve'hotarnu Ki'dbar Adon-nai"). These and other examples clearly testify to an ancient Sephardic tradition to pronounce the Kamatz as a Patah. In his responsum, Rabbi Mazuz expresses his dismay that an Ashkenazic Sage would protest against Sephardic pronunciation, rather than addressing the problems that arise from the conventional Ashkenazic pronunciation. Ashkenazim generally make no distinction in their pronunciation between an "Ayin" and an "Alef," which yields very problematic results when pronouncing verses like, "Va'abatetem Et Hashem" ("You shall serve God"). If one pronounces the "Ayin" in "Va'abatetem" as an "Alef," then he ends up saying, "You shall eradicate God," Heaven forbid. This is a far graver concern than pronouncing Hashem's Name as "Ado-nai" in accordance with a longstanding Sephardic tradition. Furthermore, Rabbi Mazuz notes, there were several great Ashkenazic Sages who adopted the Sephardic pronunciation because they felt it was more authentic. The Arizal (Rabbi Yishak Luria of Safed, 1534-1572), for example, was an Ashkenazi, and yet he adopted the Sephardic pronunciation and prayer text. And it is told that Rabbi Natan Adler of Pressburg (the teacher of the Hatam Sofer) hired Rabbi Haim Moda'i of Turkey, a Sepharadi, to teach him Sephardic pronunciation. Thus, as mentioned, both traditions are valid, and everyone should use the pronunciation followed by his family's tradition. Summary: A Sepharadi should ensure to hear Parashat Zachor read in Sephardic pronunciation, and an Ashkenazi should ensure to hear Parashat Zachor read in Ashkenazic pronunciation.

 In The Marital Knot: Agunot in the Ashkenazi Realm, 1648 - 1850 (Brandeis UP, 2024), Noa Shashar sheds light on Jewish family life in the early modern era and on the activity of rabbis whose Jewish legal rulings determined the fate of agunot, literally "chained women," who were often considered a marginal group. Who were these men and women? How did Jewish society deal with the danger of a woman's becoming an agunah? What kind of reality was imposed on women who found themselves agunot, and what could they do to extricate themselves from their plight? How did rabbinic decisors discharge their task during this period, and what were the outcomes given the fact that the agunot were dependent on the male rabbinic establishment? This study describes the lives of agunot, and by reexamining the halakhic activity concerning agunot in this period, proposes a new assessment of the attitude that decisors displayed toward the freeing of agunot. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

 In The Marital Knot: Agunot in the Ashkenazi Realm, 1648 - 1850 (Brandeis UP, 2024), Noa Shashar sheds light on Jewish family life in the early modern era and on the activity of rabbis whose Jewish legal rulings determined the fate of agunot, literally "chained women," who were often considered a marginal group. Who were these men and women? How did Jewish society deal with the danger of a woman's becoming an agunah? What kind of reality was imposed on women who found themselves agunot, and what could they do to extricate themselves from their plight? How did rabbinic decisors discharge their task during this period, and what were the outcomes given the fact that the agunot were dependent on the male rabbinic establishment? This study describes the lives of agunot, and by reexamining the halakhic activity concerning agunot in this period, proposes a new assessment of the attitude that decisors displayed toward the freeing of agunot. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/history

 In The Marital Knot: Agunot in the Ashkenazi Realm, 1648 - 1850 (Brandeis UP, 2024), Noa Shashar sheds light on Jewish family life in the early modern era and on the activity of rabbis whose Jewish legal rulings determined the fate of agunot, literally "chained women," who were often considered a marginal group. Who were these men and women? How did Jewish society deal with the danger of a woman's becoming an agunah? What kind of reality was imposed on women who found themselves agunot, and what could they do to extricate themselves from their plight? How did rabbinic decisors discharge their task during this period, and what were the outcomes given the fact that the agunot were dependent on the male rabbinic establishment? This study describes the lives of agunot, and by reexamining the halakhic activity concerning agunot in this period, proposes a new assessment of the attitude that decisors displayed toward the freeing of agunot. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/jewish-studies

 In The Marital Knot: Agunot in the Ashkenazi Realm, 1648 - 1850 (Brandeis UP, 2024), Noa Shashar sheds light on Jewish family life in the early modern era and on the activity of rabbis whose Jewish legal rulings determined the fate of agunot, literally "chained women," who were often considered a marginal group. Who were these men and women? How did Jewish society deal with the danger of a woman's becoming an agunah? What kind of reality was imposed on women who found themselves agunot, and what could they do to extricate themselves from their plight? How did rabbinic decisors discharge their task during this period, and what were the outcomes given the fact that the agunot were dependent on the male rabbinic establishment? This study describes the lives of agunot, and by reexamining the halakhic activity concerning agunot in this period, proposes a new assessment of the attitude that decisors displayed toward the freeing of agunot. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

 In The Marital Knot: Agunot in the Ashkenazi Realm, 1648 - 1850 (Brandeis UP, 2024), Noa Shashar sheds light on Jewish family life in the early modern era and on the activity of rabbis whose Jewish legal rulings determined the fate of agunot, literally "chained women," who were often considered a marginal group. Who were these men and women? How did Jewish society deal with the danger of a woman's becoming an agunah? What kind of reality was imposed on women who found themselves agunot, and what could they do to extricate themselves from their plight? How did rabbinic decisors discharge their task during this period, and what were the outcomes given the fact that the agunot were dependent on the male rabbinic establishment? This study describes the lives of agunot, and by reexamining the halakhic activity concerning agunot in this period, proposes a new assessment of the attitude that decisors displayed toward the freeing of agunot. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/eastern-european-studies

 In The Marital Knot: Agunot in the Ashkenazi Realm, 1648 - 1850 (Brandeis UP, 2024), Noa Shashar sheds light on Jewish family life in the early modern era and on the activity of rabbis whose Jewish legal rulings determined the fate of agunot, literally "chained women," who were often considered a marginal group. Who were these men and women? How did Jewish society deal with the danger of a woman's becoming an agunah? What kind of reality was imposed on women who found themselves agunot, and what could they do to extricate themselves from their plight? How did rabbinic decisors discharge their task during this period, and what were the outcomes given the fact that the agunot were dependent on the male rabbinic establishment? This study describes the lives of agunot, and by reexamining the halakhic activity concerning agunot in this period, proposes a new assessment of the attitude that decisors displayed toward the freeing of agunot. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/religion

Even though Galeet Dardashti grew up in an Ashkenazi household, she knew she was different. Her family's culture, background and music didn't feel or sound like that of other Ashkenazi Jews. But it wasn't until she took a trip to Israel in college that she realized what it meant to be Mizrachi. Not only did she have roots in Iran, but her grandfather was the most famous Jewish singer in Iranian history, known as the "Nightingale of Iran". That revelation led Dardashti, a singer and anthrolpologist, to learn more about Middle Eastern and North African Jewish culture. She became the first woman in her family to carry on a legacy of distinguished Persian musicianship, and created a six-episode documentary podcast with the Jewish Telegraphic Agency and PRX about her grandfather's journey. On today's episode of Rivkush, The CJN's podcast spotlighting noteworthy Jews of colour, Dardashti—who will be the artist-in-residence at Beth Tzedec in Toronto, hosting mulitple performances this month—emphasizes the need to recognize diversity within Jewish identities, especially in North America, where Ashkenazi culture often dominates the narrative. Credits Host: Rivka Campbell Producer: Michael Fraiman Music: Westside Gravy Support The CJN Subscribe to The CJN newsletter Donate to The CJN (+ get a charitable tax receipt) Subscribe to Rivkush (Not sure how? Click here)

Avi Shlaim is a celebrated "New Historian” whose earlier work established him as an influential historian of Middle Eastern politics and especially of Israel's relations with the Arab world. Most recently he has turned to his own Iraqi/Israeli/British past in Three Worlds: Memoirs of an Arab-Jew–which he refers to as an "impersonal autobiography." He speaks today to John and his Brandeis colleague Yuval Evri, the Marash and Ocuin Chair in Ottoman, Mizrahi and Sephardic Jewish Studies. Yuval's 2020 The Return to Al-Andalus: Disputes Over Sephardic Culture and Identity Between Arabic and Hebrew explores how fluidity in such categories as the "Arab-Jew" becomes a source of resistance to exclusive claims of ownership of land, texts, traditions, or languages. The three quickly agree that the crucial category for understanding Avi's latest work is that of the Arab Jew: "I am a problem for Zionists, an ontological impossibility....[as] a living breathing standing Arab Jew. A problem for them but not for me." Coexistence for him is not remote, but something that the Iraqi Jewish community experienced and touched on a daily basis. In describing the factors that sped migration from Iraq to Israel in its early years, Shlaim lays bare some evidence for Mossad involvement in three for the Baghdad bombs that hastened the flight from Baghdad. That bombing forms part of the “Cruel Zionism” that Avi sees having gravely damaged the possibilities of Middle Eastern religious coexistence. He also discusses the 1954 Lavon affair, and more generally reflects on the way that Zionism ("an Ashkenazi thing") conscripted Arab Jews into its political formation (This is a topic also discussed extensively in RTB"s conversation with Natasha Roth-Richardson and Lori Allen, in Violent Majorities). True, there is a much-discussed 1941 Baghdadi pogrom, The Farhud. It stands alone in the area and by Shlaim's account was largely a product of British colonialism in Iraq, with its divisive elevation of Christians and Jews over Muslims. Yuval asks Avi to discuss the power (or permission) to narrate stories told from below. Avi's tales of his own mother's resourcefulness and his father's struggles betoken the range of poignant response to what for so many Arab Jews was not aliyah (ascent) but a yerida, a descent into marginality, unemployment, and cultural exclusion. To Avi, a single state of Israel/Palestine seems the best hope to ward off the worst that may come from the accelerated ethnic cleansing of both Gaza and the West Bank, which may lead to a second Nakba. Mentioned in the podcast Avi Shlaim, Collusion across the Jordan: King Abdullah, the Zionist Movement, and the Partition of Palestine (1988) Avi Shlaim, The Iron Wall: Israel and the Arab World (1988) The New Historians of Israel/Palestine. Joel Beinin, The Dispersion of Egyptian Jewry (1998) Alliance Israelite Universelle Salo Baron anatomizes the "lachrymose version of Jewish history"; e.g. in his 1928 “Ghetto and Emancipation: Shall We Revise the Traditional View?” Noam Chomsky called settler colonialism the most extreme and vicious form of imperialism. Recallable Books Avi credits the influential work of Ella Shohat on the idea of the Arab Jew and "cruel Zionism." One pathbreaking article was her 1988 "Sephardim in Israel: Zionism from the Standpoint of Its Jewish Victims." but he recommends On the Arab Jew. In her work the hyphen unites rather than divides Arab and Jew. Yehoudah Shinhav, The Arab Jews (2006). Sami Michael Shimon Ballas, Outcast (1991). Michael Kazin, A Walker in the City (1951) and the rest of his New York trilogy. Listen and Read here. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

Avi Shlaim is a celebrated "New Historian” whose earlier work established him as an influential historian of Middle Eastern politics and especially of Israel's relations with the Arab world. Most recently he has turned to his own Iraqi/Israeli/British past in Three Worlds: Memoirs of an Arab-Jew–which he refers to as an "impersonal autobiography." He speaks today to John and his Brandeis colleague Yuval Evri, the Marash and Ocuin Chair in Ottoman, Mizrahi and Sephardic Jewish Studies. Yuval's 2020 The Return to Al-Andalus: Disputes Over Sephardic Culture and Identity Between Arabic and Hebrew explores how fluidity in such categories as the "Arab-Jew" becomes a source of resistance to exclusive claims of ownership of land, texts, traditions, or languages. The three quickly agree that the crucial category for understanding Avi's latest work is that of the Arab Jew: "I am a problem for Zionists, an ontological impossibility....[as] a living breathing standing Arab Jew. A problem for them but not for me." Coexistence for him is not remote, but something that the Iraqi Jewish community experienced and touched on a daily basis. In describing the factors that sped migration from Iraq to Israel in its early years, Shlaim lays bare some evidence for Mossad involvement in three for the Baghdad bombs that hastened the flight from Baghdad. That bombing forms part of the “Cruel Zionism” that Avi sees having gravely damaged the possibilities of Middle Eastern religious coexistence. He also discusses the 1954 Lavon affair, and more generally reflects on the way that Zionism ("an Ashkenazi thing") conscripted Arab Jews into its political formation (This is a topic also discussed extensively in RTB"s conversation with Natasha Roth-Richardson and Lori Allen, in Violent Majorities). True, there is a much-discussed 1941 Baghdadi pogrom, The Farhud. It stands alone in the area and by Shlaim's account was largely a product of British colonialism in Iraq, with its divisive elevation of Christians and Jews over Muslims. Yuval asks Avi to discuss the power (or permission) to narrate stories told from below. Avi's tales of his own mother's resourcefulness and his father's struggles betoken the range of poignant response to what for so many Arab Jews was not aliyah (ascent) but a yerida, a descent into marginality, unemployment, and cultural exclusion. To Avi, a single state of Israel/Palestine seems the best hope to ward off the worst that may come from the accelerated ethnic cleansing of both Gaza and the West Bank, which may lead to a second Nakba. Mentioned in the podcast Avi Shlaim, Collusion across the Jordan: King Abdullah, the Zionist Movement, and the Partition of Palestine (1988) Avi Shlaim, The Iron Wall: Israel and the Arab World (1988) The New Historians of Israel/Palestine. Joel Beinin, The Dispersion of Egyptian Jewry (1998) Alliance Israelite Universelle Salo Baron anatomizes the "lachrymose version of Jewish history"; e.g. in his 1928 “Ghetto and Emancipation: Shall We Revise the Traditional View?” Noam Chomsky called settler colonialism the most extreme and vicious form of imperialism. Recallable Books Avi credits the influential work of Ella Shohat on the idea of the Arab Jew and "cruel Zionism." One pathbreaking article was her 1988 "Sephardim in Israel: Zionism from the Standpoint of Its Jewish Victims." but he recommends On the Arab Jew. In her work the hyphen unites rather than divides Arab and Jew. Yehoudah Shinhav, The Arab Jews (2006). Sami Michael Shimon Ballas, Outcast (1991). Michael Kazin, A Walker in the City (1951) and the rest of his New York trilogy. Listen and Read here. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/history

Avi Shlaim, is a celebrated "New Historian” whose earlier work established him as an influential historian of Middle Eastern politics and especially of Israel's relations with the Arab world. Most recently he has turned to his own Iraqi/Israeli/British past in Three Worlds: Memoirs of an Arab-Jew–which he refers to as an "impersonal autobiography." He speaks today to John and his Brandeis colleague Yuval Evri, the Marash and Ocuin Chair in Ottoman, Mizrahi and Sephardic Jewish Studies. Yuval's 2020 The Return to Al-Andalus: Disputes Over Sephardic Culture and Identity Between Arabic and Hebrew explores how fluidity in such categories as the "Arab-Jew" becomes a source of resistance to exclusive claims of ownership of land, texts, traditions, or languages. The three quickly agree that the crucial category for understanding Avi's latest work is that of the Arab Jew: "I am a problem for Zionists, an ontological impossibility....[as] a living breathing standing Arab Jew. A problem for them but not for me." Coexistence for him is not remote, but something that the Iraqi Jewish community experienced and touched on a daily basis.  In describing the factors that sped migration from Iraq to Israel in its early years, Shlaim lays bare some evidence for Mossad involvement in three for the Baghdad bombs that hastened the flight from Baghdad. That bombing forms part of the “Cruel Zionism” that Avi sees having gravely damaged the possibilities of Middle Eastern religious coexistence. He also discusses the 1954 Lavon affair, and more generally reflects on the way that Zionism ("an Ashkenazi thing") conscripted Arab Jews into its political formation (This is a topic also discussed extensively in RTB"s conversation with Natasha Roth-Richardson and Lori Allen, in Violent Majorities). True, there is a much-discussed 1941 Baghdadi pogrom, The Farhud. It stands alone in the area and by Shlaim's account was largely a product of British colonialism in Iraq, with its divisive elevation of Christians and Jews over Muslims. Yuval asks Avi to discuss the power (or permission) to narrate stories told from below. Avi's tales of his own mother's resourcefulness and his father's struggles betoken the range of poignant response to what for so many Arab Jews was not aliyah (ascent) but a yerida, a descent into marginality, unemployment, and cultural exclusion. To Avi, a single state of Israel/Palestine seems the best hope to ward off the worst that may come from the accelerated ethnic cleansing of both Gaza and the West Bank, which may lead to a second Nakba. Avi Shlaim's earlier books include: Collusion across the Jordan: King Abdullah, the Zionist Movement, and the Partition of Palestine (1988) The Iron Wall: Israel and the Arab World  (1988). Mentioned in the podcast The New Historians of Israel/Palestine. Joel Beinin, The Dispersion of Egyptian Jewry (1998) Alliance Israelite Universelle Salo Baron anatomizes the "lachrymose version of Jewish history"; e.g. in his 1928 "“Ghetto and Emancipation: Shall We Revise the Traditional View?” Noam Chomsky called settler colonialism the most extreme and vicious form of imperialism. Recallable Books Avi credits the influential work of Ella Shohat on the idea of the Arab Jew and "cruel Zionism." One pathbreaking article was her 1988 "Sephardim in Israel: Zionism from the Standpoint of Its Jewish Victims." but he recommends On the Arab Jew. In her work the hyphen unites rather than divides Arab and Jew. Yehoudah Shinhav, The Arab Jews (2006). Sami Michael - Victoria Shimon Ballas, Outcast (1991) Samir Naqqash, Tenants and Cobwebs Iraqi Jewish Writers: Banipal 72 Michael Kazin, A Walker in the City (1951) and the rest of his New York trilogy. Listen and Read here. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Avi Shlaim is a celebrated "New Historian” whose earlier work established him as an influential historian of Middle Eastern politics and especially of Israel's relations with the Arab world. Most recently he has turned to his own Iraqi/Israeli/British past in Three Worlds: Memoirs of an Arab-Jew–which he refers to as an "impersonal autobiography." He speaks today to John and his Brandeis colleague Yuval Evri, the Marash and Ocuin Chair in Ottoman, Mizrahi and Sephardic Jewish Studies. Yuval's 2020 The Return to Al-Andalus: Disputes Over Sephardic Culture and Identity Between Arabic and Hebrew explores how fluidity in such categories as the "Arab-Jew" becomes a source of resistance to exclusive claims of ownership of land, texts, traditions, or languages. The three quickly agree that the crucial category for understanding Avi's latest work is that of the Arab Jew: "I am a problem for Zionists, an ontological impossibility....[as] a living breathing standing Arab Jew. A problem for them but not for me." Coexistence for him is not remote, but something that the Iraqi Jewish community experienced and touched on a daily basis. In describing the factors that sped migration from Iraq to Israel in its early years, Shlaim lays bare some evidence for Mossad involvement in three for the Baghdad bombs that hastened the flight from Baghdad. That bombing forms part of the “Cruel Zionism” that Avi sees having gravely damaged the possibilities of Middle Eastern religious coexistence. He also discusses the 1954 Lavon affair, and more generally reflects on the way that Zionism ("an Ashkenazi thing") conscripted Arab Jews into its political formation (This is a topic also discussed extensively in RTB"s conversation with Natasha Roth-Richardson and Lori Allen, in Violent Majorities). True, there is a much-discussed 1941 Baghdadi pogrom, The Farhud. It stands alone in the area and by Shlaim's account was largely a product of British colonialism in Iraq, with its divisive elevation of Christians and Jews over Muslims. Yuval asks Avi to discuss the power (or permission) to narrate stories told from below. Avi's tales of his own mother's resourcefulness and his father's struggles betoken the range of poignant response to what for so many Arab Jews was not aliyah (ascent) but a yerida, a descent into marginality, unemployment, and cultural exclusion. To Avi, a single state of Israel/Palestine seems the best hope to ward off the worst that may come from the accelerated ethnic cleansing of both Gaza and the West Bank, which may lead to a second Nakba. Mentioned in the podcast Avi Shlaim, Collusion across the Jordan: King Abdullah, the Zionist Movement, and the Partition of Palestine (1988) Avi Shlaim, The Iron Wall: Israel and the Arab World (1988) The New Historians of Israel/Palestine. Joel Beinin, The Dispersion of Egyptian Jewry (1998) Alliance Israelite Universelle Salo Baron anatomizes the "lachrymose version of Jewish history"; e.g. in his 1928 “Ghetto and Emancipation: Shall We Revise the Traditional View?” Noam Chomsky called settler colonialism the most extreme and vicious form of imperialism. Recallable Books Avi credits the influential work of Ella Shohat on the idea of the Arab Jew and "cruel Zionism." One pathbreaking article was her 1988 "Sephardim in Israel: Zionism from the Standpoint of Its Jewish Victims." but he recommends On the Arab Jew. In her work the hyphen unites rather than divides Arab and Jew. Yehoudah Shinhav, The Arab Jews (2006). Sami Michael Shimon Ballas, Outcast (1991). Michael Kazin, A Walker in the City (1951) and the rest of his New York trilogy. Listen and Read here. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/jewish-studies

Avi Shlaim is a celebrated "New Historian” whose earlier work established him as an influential historian of Middle Eastern politics and especially of Israel's relations with the Arab world. Most recently he has turned to his own Iraqi/Israeli/British past in Three Worlds: Memoirs of an Arab-Jew–which he refers to as an "impersonal autobiography." He speaks today to John and his Brandeis colleague Yuval Evri, the Marash and Ocuin Chair in Ottoman, Mizrahi and Sephardic Jewish Studies. Yuval's 2020 The Return to Al-Andalus: Disputes Over Sephardic Culture and Identity Between Arabic and Hebrew explores how fluidity in such categories as the "Arab-Jew" becomes a source of resistance to exclusive claims of ownership of land, texts, traditions, or languages. The three quickly agree that the crucial category for understanding Avi's latest work is that of the Arab Jew: "I am a problem for Zionists, an ontological impossibility....[as] a living breathing standing Arab Jew. A problem for them but not for me." Coexistence for him is not remote, but something that the Iraqi Jewish community experienced and touched on a daily basis. In describing the factors that sped migration from Iraq to Israel in its early years, Shlaim lays bare some evidence for Mossad involvement in three for the Baghdad bombs that hastened the flight from Baghdad. That bombing forms part of the “Cruel Zionism” that Avi sees having gravely damaged the possibilities of Middle Eastern religious coexistence. He also discusses the 1954 Lavon affair, and more generally reflects on the way that Zionism ("an Ashkenazi thing") conscripted Arab Jews into its political formation (This is a topic also discussed extensively in RTB"s conversation with Natasha Roth-Richardson and Lori Allen, in Violent Majorities). True, there is a much-discussed 1941 Baghdadi pogrom, The Farhud. It stands alone in the area and by Shlaim's account was largely a product of British colonialism in Iraq, with its divisive elevation of Christians and Jews over Muslims. Yuval asks Avi to discuss the power (or permission) to narrate stories told from below. Avi's tales of his own mother's resourcefulness and his father's struggles betoken the range of poignant response to what for so many Arab Jews was not aliyah (ascent) but a yerida, a descent into marginality, unemployment, and cultural exclusion. To Avi, a single state of Israel/Palestine seems the best hope to ward off the worst that may come from the accelerated ethnic cleansing of both Gaza and the West Bank, which may lead to a second Nakba. Mentioned in the podcast Avi Shlaim, Collusion across the Jordan: King Abdullah, the Zionist Movement, and the Partition of Palestine (1988) Avi Shlaim, The Iron Wall: Israel and the Arab World (1988) The New Historians of Israel/Palestine. Joel Beinin, The Dispersion of Egyptian Jewry (1998) Alliance Israelite Universelle Salo Baron anatomizes the "lachrymose version of Jewish history"; e.g. in his 1928 “Ghetto and Emancipation: Shall We Revise the Traditional View?” Noam Chomsky called settler colonialism the most extreme and vicious form of imperialism. Recallable Books Avi credits the influential work of Ella Shohat on the idea of the Arab Jew and "cruel Zionism." One pathbreaking article was her 1988 "Sephardim in Israel: Zionism from the Standpoint of Its Jewish Victims." but he recommends On the Arab Jew. In her work the hyphen unites rather than divides Arab and Jew. Yehoudah Shinhav, The Arab Jews (2006). Sami Michael Shimon Ballas, Outcast (1991). Michael Kazin, A Walker in the City (1951) and the rest of his New York trilogy. Listen and Read here. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/middle-eastern-studies

Avi Shlaim is a celebrated "New Historian” whose earlier work established him as an influential historian of Middle Eastern politics and especially of Israel's relations with the Arab world. Most recently he has turned to his own Iraqi/Israeli/British past in Three Worlds: Memoirs of an Arab-Jew–which he refers to as an "impersonal autobiography." He speaks today to John and his Brandeis colleague Yuval Evri, the Marash and Ocuin Chair in Ottoman, Mizrahi and Sephardic Jewish Studies. Yuval's 2020 The Return to Al-Andalus: Disputes Over Sephardic Culture and Identity Between Arabic and Hebrew explores how fluidity in such categories as the "Arab-Jew" becomes a source of resistance to exclusive claims of ownership of land, texts, traditions, or languages. The three quickly agree that the crucial category for understanding Avi's latest work is that of the Arab Jew: "I am a problem for Zionists, an ontological impossibility....[as] a living breathing standing Arab Jew. A problem for them but not for me." Coexistence for him is not remote, but something that the Iraqi Jewish community experienced and touched on a daily basis. In describing the factors that sped migration from Iraq to Israel in its early years, Shlaim lays bare some evidence for Mossad involvement in three for the Baghdad bombs that hastened the flight from Baghdad. That bombing forms part of the “Cruel Zionism” that Avi sees having gravely damaged the possibilities of Middle Eastern religious coexistence. He also discusses the 1954 Lavon affair, and more generally reflects on the way that Zionism ("an Ashkenazi thing") conscripted Arab Jews into its political formation (This is a topic also discussed extensively in RTB"s conversation with Natasha Roth-Richardson and Lori Allen, in Violent Majorities). True, there is a much-discussed 1941 Baghdadi pogrom, The Farhud. It stands alone in the area and by Shlaim's account was largely a product of British colonialism in Iraq, with its divisive elevation of Christians and Jews over Muslims. Yuval asks Avi to discuss the power (or permission) to narrate stories told from below. Avi's tales of his own mother's resourcefulness and his father's struggles betoken the range of poignant response to what for so many Arab Jews was not aliyah (ascent) but a yerida, a descent into marginality, unemployment, and cultural exclusion. To Avi, a single state of Israel/Palestine seems the best hope to ward off the worst that may come from the accelerated ethnic cleansing of both Gaza and the West Bank, which may lead to a second Nakba. Mentioned in the podcast Avi Shlaim, Collusion across the Jordan: King Abdullah, the Zionist Movement, and the Partition of Palestine (1988) Avi Shlaim, The Iron Wall: Israel and the Arab World (1988) The New Historians of Israel/Palestine. Joel Beinin, The Dispersion of Egyptian Jewry (1998) Alliance Israelite Universelle Salo Baron anatomizes the "lachrymose version of Jewish history"; e.g. in his 1928 “Ghetto and Emancipation: Shall We Revise the Traditional View?” Noam Chomsky called settler colonialism the most extreme and vicious form of imperialism. Recallable Books Avi credits the influential work of Ella Shohat on the idea of the Arab Jew and "cruel Zionism." One pathbreaking article was her 1988 "Sephardim in Israel: Zionism from the Standpoint of Its Jewish Victims." but he recommends On the Arab Jew. In her work the hyphen unites rather than divides Arab and Jew. Yehoudah Shinhav, The Arab Jews (2006). Sami Michael Shimon Ballas, Outcast (1991). Michael Kazin, A Walker in the City (1951) and the rest of his New York trilogy. Listen and Read here. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/intellectual-history

Avi Shlaim is a celebrated "New Historian” whose earlier work established him as an influential historian of Middle Eastern politics and especially of Israel's relations with the Arab world. Most recently he has turned to his own Iraqi/Israeli/British past in Three Worlds: Memoirs of an Arab-Jew–which he refers to as an "impersonal autobiography." He speaks today to John and his Brandeis colleague Yuval Evri, the Marash and Ocuin Chair in Ottoman, Mizrahi and Sephardic Jewish Studies. Yuval's 2020 The Return to Al-Andalus: Disputes Over Sephardic Culture and Identity Between Arabic and Hebrew explores how fluidity in such categories as the "Arab-Jew" becomes a source of resistance to exclusive claims of ownership of land, texts, traditions, or languages. The three quickly agree that the crucial category for understanding Avi's latest work is that of the Arab Jew: "I am a problem for Zionists, an ontological impossibility....[as] a living breathing standing Arab Jew. A problem for them but not for me." Coexistence for him is not remote, but something that the Iraqi Jewish community experienced and touched on a daily basis. In describing the factors that sped migration from Iraq to Israel in its early years, Shlaim lays bare some evidence for Mossad involvement in three for the Baghdad bombs that hastened the flight from Baghdad. That bombing forms part of the “Cruel Zionism” that Avi sees having gravely damaged the possibilities of Middle Eastern religious coexistence. He also discusses the 1954 Lavon affair, and more generally reflects on the way that Zionism ("an Ashkenazi thing") conscripted Arab Jews into its political formation (This is a topic also discussed extensively in RTB"s conversation with Natasha Roth-Richardson and Lori Allen, in Violent Majorities). True, there is a much-discussed 1941 Baghdadi pogrom, The Farhud. It stands alone in the area and by Shlaim's account was largely a product of British colonialism in Iraq, with its divisive elevation of Christians and Jews over Muslims. Yuval asks Avi to discuss the power (or permission) to narrate stories told from below. Avi's tales of his own mother's resourcefulness and his father's struggles betoken the range of poignant response to what for so many Arab Jews was not aliyah (ascent) but a yerida, a descent into marginality, unemployment, and cultural exclusion. To Avi, a single state of Israel/Palestine seems the best hope to ward off the worst that may come from the accelerated ethnic cleansing of both Gaza and the West Bank, which may lead to a second Nakba. Mentioned in the podcast Avi Shlaim, Collusion across the Jordan: King Abdullah, the Zionist Movement, and the Partition of Palestine (1988) Avi Shlaim, The Iron Wall: Israel and the Arab World (1988) The New Historians of Israel/Palestine. Joel Beinin, The Dispersion of Egyptian Jewry (1998) Alliance Israelite Universelle Salo Baron anatomizes the "lachrymose version of Jewish history"; e.g. in his 1928 “Ghetto and Emancipation: Shall We Revise the Traditional View?” Noam Chomsky called settler colonialism the most extreme and vicious form of imperialism. Recallable Books Avi credits the influential work of Ella Shohat on the idea of the Arab Jew and "cruel Zionism." One pathbreaking article was her 1988 "Sephardim in Israel: Zionism from the Standpoint of Its Jewish Victims." but he recommends On the Arab Jew. In her work the hyphen unites rather than divides Arab and Jew. Yehoudah Shinhav, The Arab Jews (2006). Sami Michael Shimon Ballas, Outcast (1991). Michael Kazin, A Walker in the City (1951) and the rest of his New York trilogy. Listen and Read here. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/israel-studies

Send us a textResearch historian, data analyst, and conspiracy realist @GavinNascimento returns to unravel the hidden intricacies of the Bolshevik Revolution, the rise of Nazism, and the geopolitical power plays that shaped the 20th century on episode 184 of the Far Out with Faust podcast.A seasoned veteran of the show (links below to episodes 79, 130, 131, 152, 154), Gavin has solidified his place among the most influential truth seekers of our era. Known for his relentless pursuit of verifiable truths, Gavin continues to challenge mainstream narratives with meticulous research and compelling insights. His acclaimed work, A History of Elitism, World Government & Population Control, and his essays on platforms like The Free Thought Project have earned him a dedicated following.In this episode, Gavin and Faust delve into the far-reaching implications of WWI and WWII, exposing the external forces that influenced revolutionary movements and shaped the modern geopolitical landscape. Topics include:- The underestimated role of Western powers in financing the Bolshevik Revolution- How Zionism and Ashkenazi supremacy intersected with global political agendas- The financial and ideological connections between communism and Nazism- The Dawes and Young Plans: financial manipulation post-WWI that paved the way for WWII- Psychological manipulation stemming from economic desperation and propaganda- Historical context for the rise of authoritarian regimes like the Soviet Union and Nazi Germany- The shadowy role of organizations like the Council on Foreign Relations and Rockefeller Foundation in post-war global governance- The moral complexities of war and the suffering of innocents- How history is manipulated to serve modern political agendas…and much more!Explore these riveting connections between past and present to gain a deeper understanding of today's world.

In this shiur we discuss: 1) Tevilas Keilim with electric vessels, 2) How to know someone is Jewish, 3) Digital photo frames and Shabbos, 4) Ashkenazi leading birchas Hamazon for sefardim, 5) Standing or sitting when removing Tefillin, 6) Lighting the menorah when attending a chanukah party, 7) Allowing a tenant to put up a holiday tree, 8) Attending a work related Holiday party, 9) Ribbis related to borrowing a car with a half tank of gas and returning it filled, 10) Gift giving on Chanukah, 11) Using leftover challah from a meat meal for dairy french toash, 12) Proper way to kiss a mezuzah for a lefty. If you have any questions that you would like to submit for the shiur, please use this link www.hashevaynu.org/ask.

1)    Siyum on Rambam Sefer Nezikin. 2)    In error I sent £1000 to a Tzedoko account. Is the Tzedoko's manager permitted to reimburse the money to my account?[1] 3)    I've heard of a Segula: to recite Chapter 20 of Tehilim during pregnancy. Please enlighten me:[2] 4)    Some Sefardim are lenient re. chazarah and permit placing food from the fridge onto the hotplate on Shabbos. May an Ashkenazi eat from this?[3] 5)    A nozzle-extension to a tap, does it need to be toivelled?[4] 6)    In our (Central European) city, it's only at this time of the year that we can buy beeswax candles (for a fraction of the price in heimishe stores). May we buy them?[5] 7)    I'm travelling during Chanukah. Is there value in lighting Menora at my host after Plag haMincha with a lot of oil, and then rush away to the airport for our evening flight?[6] 8)    A Chuppah was held during Bein HaShmoshos. When does the week of celebration end?[7] 9)    A balebos was asked by a church to rent a property of his. Is that permitted?[8] 10)  I have a tattoo from before I became frum. I'm embarrassed with the inappropriate image on my body. May I have a tattoo done to obliterate the present image?[9] 11)  Feedback: number of Tevilos[10]; removal of name from cake - why it isn't borer; leftovers of Mayim Acharonim. https://us02web.zoom.us/j/9764852268?omn=8473670146 [1] ראה רמ"א יו"ד סי' רנח ס"ב; צדקה ומשפט פ"ד ס"ז. [2] ראה קובץ מנהגי חב"ד - בענייני הריון, לידה, ברית, פדיון הבן ולידת בת, ע' 13; מדרש תילים מזמור כ. [3] בס' ילקוט יוסף לסי' שיח (סנ"ז) מתיר לספרדי ליהנות ממעשה אשכנזי שחימם מאכל לח שנצטנן, אך לא לגמרי, אע"פ שלדעת השו"ע זה אסור. והוא משום ס"ס: אולי הלכה כהרמב"ם שאין בישול אחר בישול בדבר לח, ואולי ההלכה כרמ"א להקל בלא נצטנן לגמרי, ע"כ. וא"כ י"ל גם איפכא, בספרדי שחימם תבשיל עם מיעוט רוטב, להתיר לאשכנזי לאוכלו, משום ס"ס: אולי הלכתא כהרמב"ם, ואולי יש להתיר למיזיל בתר רוב המאכל. הגר"מ אליהו (דרכי הלכה על קצש"ע סי' פ הע' ד) אוסר הנחת פשטידא קרה על הפלטה (שנראה כמבשל), כ"א מול המדורה. [4] ראה ס' טבילת כלים פ"א הע' טז שכל ששימושו עם הקרקע אין צריך טבילה. [5] בשו"ת שבט הלוי (ח"ב סי' נז) מתיר הדבר, כי אין הקדש לע"ז (אף שכתוב מפורש על החבילה שהוא מיועד לחג הנוצרים). ואילו בשו"ת חלקת יעקב (ח"ג סי' ל) כתב שאין זה הידור מצוה, ואפילו לצורך השמש שאינו מצוה. ואולי באינו מפורש יודה גם הוא. [6] בשו"ע או"ח (סי' תערב ס"א) מתיר להדליק מפלג המנחה ולמעלה "ובלבד שיתן בה שמן עד שתכלה רגל מן השוק". ב'אור ישראל' (יח) מאריך הרב חיים אבערלאנדער נ"י אודות הנוסע מארה"ב לאירופא בחנוכה, אם ידליק אחר פלג המנחה טרם נסיעתו לנמל-תעופה או שידליק ע"י שליח. אך לא נחית למצב שיוצא מבית מארחו, ואז – בהגיע עיקר הזמן, בשקיעת החמה – אין זה ביתו. [7]  ברמ"א אה"ע סי' סב ס"ו נפסק שמתחילין מיד לאחר ז' ברכות שבירך בראשונה. [8] ראה שו"ע יו"ד סי' קנא ס"י; ש"ך שם ס"ק יז; דרכי תשובה שם אות כז. [9] ראה נשמת אברהם יו"ד סי' קפ א:3 בדבר איפור קבוע לאשה שחסרו לה גבות עיניים או למי שיש לו צלקת על עורו, שלמסקנת הגר"ע יוסף ז''ל יש להתיר בנידון, כי הרי"ף והרא"ש פסקו כר"ש (מכות כא ) שרק בשם ע"ז חייב, ואף להרמב"ם שפסק כת"ק, י"א דהיינו רק כשעושה הקעקוע לשם ע"ז, וזה לא שייך בנדו"ד, ואדרבה. גם אין כאן כתב, ודמיא לטשטוש צלקת שהתיר הגר"ע. אגב: שם דן על כתיבה עראית על בשר האדם. ולהעיר מדין הסגרת נגע צרעת, שי"א דהיינו ע"י דיו (רא"ש, בטור הארוך, ויקרא יג, ה); עובדא של אדה"ז עם אחיו בבירור שיעור גריס (שו"ת שארית יהודה יו"ד סי' יג). [10] ציטוט מקונטרס 'שופר לאור החסידות', לב לייבמן, אלול תשפ"ג. ואילו בס' 'המזכיר' ח"א ע' 158 – הסדר להיפך!

Please consider donating to our #GivingTuesday campaign so that we can continue bringing you these important stories… Rabbi Adam Scheier says what happened to him in downtown Montreal on Sunday, Nov. 24—when a police officer saw the full-time kippah wearer silently watching and filming a nearby pro-Palestinian march, and ordered him to move along to avoid igniting any problems—shows “unacceptable and intolerable” conditions being demanded of his community. The spiritual leader of Congregation Shaar Hashomayim, the oldest Ashkenazi synagogue in Canada, founded in 1846, has subsequently been speaking out about the way his city's leaders have handled the local explosion of antisemitism during the past 14 months. In his view, the experience revealed how rather than enforcing the law and protecting the rights of Jewish people, authorities are now asking them to hide for their own protection—while crowds of mask-wearing demonstrators chanting hateful slogans have been given free reign on the streets. Scheier was out with his wife and daughters shopping for a birthday gift when he purchased a coffee at the Second Cup. He wanted to show appreciation for the café chain quickly cutting ties with its franchisee at the Jewish General Hospital after she was spotted making antisemitic gestures while shouting antisemitic slogans. The modern Orthodox rabbi subsequently met with senior police commanders and local politicians, although police will not say what they intend to do in response. On today's episode of The CJN Daily, Rabbi Scheier joins to describe his ordeal, in conversation with Joel Ceausu, the new Quebec correspondent for The Canadian Jewish News. Related links Why Montreal's Jews have become the most targeted for hate crimes since Oct. 7, in The CJN. Why masked anti-Israel protesters gathered outside Congregation Shaar Hashomayim synagogue on Nov. 5, 2024 violating a court-ordered buffer zone preventing such events outside houses of worship, in The CJN. Quebec premier Francois Legault demands Montreal mayor act after weekend of violent anti-NATO, and antisemitic protests erupt Nov. 20-21, in The CJN. Credits Host and writer: Ellin Bessner (@ebessner) Production team: Zachary Kauffman (producer), Michael Fraiman (executive producer) Music: Dov Beck-Levine Support our show Subscribe to The CJN newsletter Donate to The CJN (+ get a charitable tax receipt) Subscribe to The CJN Daily (Not sure how? Click here)

Looks like the White Hats are really Small Hats. Oopsie.https://ftjmedia.com/live/0/BaalBusters/1That's the static link above for every time I go Live on FTJMedia.comYou can get to whatever is streaming from me at that time.Go To: https://www.moneytreepublishing.com/shop USE code: BAAL for 10% OFF your entire order.Today, 11.14.2024 -We'll continue our look at Michael Tsarion, the author of The Irish Origins of Civilization. Plus more of the Beeooolsheet that lies ahead. TrashcanAzi Full Steam Ahead!DR PETER GLIDDEN, ND Health Recovery Site:https://leavebigpharmabehind.com/?via=pgndhealthUse Code baalbusters for 50% OFF - LIMITED TIMEVote For DR GLIDDEN Here: https://nominees.mahanow.org/GET COMMERCIAL FREE VIDEOS/PODCASTS and Exclusive Content: Become a Patron. https://Patreon.com/DisguisetheLimitsGo to https://SemperFryLLC.com to get all the AWESOME stuff I make plus use code Victory for 11% OFF just for BB viewers!Dr Monzo's New Site:https://health-restoration-technologies-llc.myshopify.com/discount/BAALBUSTERS?redirect=%2Fcollections%2Fbaal-busters-discountsHave you tired TRY BLUE? https://tryblue.kckb.st/bbvip  for 17% Off!Want to send me something? Letters? Poems? Nudies? Something You Create that you want me to share as a Demo? No dildos. I'm not Rabbi Shmuley.Baal Busters Broadcast#1029101 W 16th Street STE AYuma, AZ 85364BE ADVISED: I'm not askiing you to do this, but If you are compelled to mail a check for show support, it must be written out to Semper Fry, LLC.Thanks!I would like to read viewer mail on the LIVESTREAMS so indicate whether your letter is private or for public use.  Also, this mail box was established for YOU.  If it isn't used I will just cancel it in a month rather than pay for it to serve no purpose.  Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/ba-al-busters-broadcast--5100262/support.

Our goal will be accomplished one drop at a time so as to never bring suspicion upon ourselves. This will also prevent them from seeing the changes as they occur.    Clips Played:  Why Israel was Created (youtube.com)    Why did over 2,000 Yemenite babies disappear in 1950s Israel? | Al Jazeera World Documentary – […] The post The Ringworm Children – Jewish Genocide for ALL JEWS except Ashkenazi.  USA funded Genocide same way it funded RWANDA.  Stealing Yemens children to populate.  The push to make Israel the right kind of Jewish State. appeared first on Psychopath In Your Life.

Growing up, Liz Kleinrock never felt like she fit into her Jewish community in Washington, D.C. Born in Korea and adopted into an Ashkenazi family, she constantly felt pressure to justify her Judaism—whether at Hebrew school, summer camp or synagogue. Years later, after becoming a professional antibias and antiracist educator, she met author Caroline Kusin Pritchard, and the two clicked. One day, they got an idea: to create an educational, illustrated, family-friendly book that redefines the face of Judaism—literally. The result is What Jewish Looks Like, released September 2024, which profiles unconventional Jewish icons. The collection includes British-Indian sculptor Anish Kapoor, historic Ethiopian community leader Uri Ben Baruch and American trans activist Jazz Jennings—about as varied a scope as one could imagine that crosses skin colour, religious affiliation and cultural identity. The book's launch has been met warmly in Jewish spaces. And yet, as Kleinrock and Kusin Pritchard tell Rivka Campbell on The CJN's podcast about Jews of colour, even on their book tour, they face microaggressions in every city. For them, it's a constant reminder of why this kind of content is needed—not just to educate younger Jewish generations, but older ones as well. Credits Host: Rivka Campbell Producer: Michael Fraiman Music: Westside Gravy Support The CJN Subscribe to The CJN newsletter Donate to The CJN (+ get a charitable tax receipt) Subscribe to Rivkush (Not sure how? Click here)

Comparing the Hebrew of Isaiah 9.6 to most popular English translations results in some serious questions. Why have our translations changed the tense of the verbs from past to future? Why is this child called “Mighty God” and “Eternal Father”? In this presentation I work through Isaiah 9.6 line by line to help you understand the Hebrew. Next I look at interpretive options for the child as well as his complicated name. Not only will this presentation strengthen your understanding of Isaiah 9.6, but it will also equip you to explain it to others. Listen to this episode on Spotify or Apple Podcasts —— Links —— See my other articles here Check out my class: One God Over All Get the transcript of this episode Support Restitutio by donating here Join our Restitutio Facebook Group and follow Sean Finnegan on Twitter @RestitutioSF Leave a voice message via SpeakPipe with questions or comments and we may play them out on the air Intro music: Good Vibes by MBB Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported (CC BY-SA 3.0) Free Download / Stream: Music promoted by Audio Library. Who is Sean Finnegan?  Read Sean’s bio here Below is the paper presented on October 18, 2024 in Little Rock, Arkansas at the 4th annual UCA Conference. Access this paper on Academia.edu to get the pdf. Full text is below, including bibliography and end notes. Abstract Working through the grammar and syntax, I present the case that Isaiah 9:6 is the birth announcement of a historical child. After carefully analyzing the name given to the child and the major interpretive options, I make a case that the name is theophoric. Like the named children of Isaiah 7 and 8, the sign-child of Isaiah 9 prophecies what God, not the child, will do. Although I argue for Hezekiah as the original fulfillment, I also see Isaiah 9:6 as a messianic prophecy of the true and better Hezekiah through whom God will bring eternal deliverance and peace. Introduction Paul D. Wegner called Isaiah 9:6[1] “one of the most difficult problems in the study of the Old Testament.”[2] To get an initial handle on the complexities of this text, let's begin briefly by comparing the Hebrew to a typical translation. Isaiah 9:6 (BHS[3]) כִּי־יֶ֣לֶד יֻלַּד־לָ֗נוּ בֵּ֚ן נִתַּן־לָ֔נוּ וַתְּהִ֥י הַמִּשְׂרָ֖ה עַל־שִׁכְמ֑וֹ וַיִּקְרָ֨א שְׁמ֜וֹ פֶּ֠לֶא יוֹעֵץ֙ אֵ֣ל גִּבּ֔וֹר אֲבִיעַ֖ד שַׂר־שָׁלֽוֹם׃ Isaiah 9:6 (ESV) For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Curiosities abound in the differences between these two. The first two clauses in English, “For to us a child is born” and “to us a son is given,” employ the present tense while the Hebrew uses the perfect tense, i.e. “to us a child has been born.”[4] This has a significant bearing on whether we take the prophecy as a statement about a child already born in Isaiah's time or someone yet to come (or both). The ESV renders the phrase,וַיִּקְרָא שְׁמוֹ  (vayikra sh'mo), as “and his name shall be called,” but the words literally mean “and he called his name” where the “he” is unspecified. This leaves room for the possibility of identifying the subject of the verb in the subsequent phrase, i.e. “And the wonderful counselor, the mighty God called his name…” as many Jewish translations take it.  Questions further abound regardingאֵל גִּבּוֹר (el gibbor), which finds translations as disparate as the traditional “Mighty God”[5] to “divine warrior”[6] to “in battle God-like”[7] to “Mighty chief”[8] to “Godlike hero,”[9] to Luther's truncated “Held.”[10]  Another phrase that elicits a multiplicity of translations is אֲבִיעַד (aviad). Although most versions read “Eternal Father,”[11] others render the word, “Father-Forever,”[12] “Father for all time,”[13] “Father of perpetuity,”[14] “Father of the Eternal Age,”[15] and “Father of Future.”[16] Translators from a range of backgrounds struggle with these two phrases. Some refuse to translate them at all, preferring clunky transliterations.[17] Still, as I will show below, there's a better way forward. If we understand that the child had a theophoric name—a name that is not about him, but about God—our problems dissipate like morning fog before the rising sun. Taking the four pairs of words this way yields a two-part sentence name. As we'll see this last approach is not only the best contextual option, but it also allows us to take the Hebrew vocabulary, grammar, and syntax at face value, rather than succumbing to strained translations and interpretational gymnastics. In the end, we're left with a text literally rendered and hermeneutically robust. Called or Will Call His Name? Nearly all the major Christian versions translate וַיִּקְרָא (vayikra), “he has called,” as “he will be called.” This takes an active past tense verb as a passive future tense.[18] What is going on here? Since parents typically give names at birth or shortly thereafter, it wouldn't make sense to suggest the child was already born (as the beginning of Isa 9:6 clearly states), but then say he was not yet named. Additionally, וַיִּקְרָא (vayikra) is a vav-conversive plus imperfect construction that continues the same timing sequence of the preceding perfect tense verbs.[19] If the word were passive (niphal binyan) we would read וַיִּקָּרֵא (vayikarey) instead of וַיִּקְרָא (vayikra). Although some have suggested an emendation of the Masoretic vowels to make this change, Hugh Williamson notes, “there is no overriding need to prefer it.”[20] Translators may justify rendering the perfect tense as imperfect due to the idiom called a prophetic past tense (perfectum propheticum). Wilhelm Gesenius notes the possibility that a prophet “so transports himself in imagination into the future that he describes the future event as if it had been already seen or heard by him.”[21] Bruce Waltke recognizes the phenomenon, calling it an accidental perfective in which “a speaker vividly and dramatically represents a future situation both as complete and independent.”[22] Still, it's up to the interpreter to determine if Isaiah employs this idiom or not. The verbs of verse 6 seem quite clear: “a child has been born for us … and the government was on his shoulder … and he has called his name…” When Isaiah uttered this prophecy, the child had already been born and named and the government rested on his shoulders. This is the straightforward reading of the grammar and therefore should be our starting point.[23] Hezekiah as the Referent One of the generally accepted principles of hermeneutics is to first ask the question, “What did this text mean in its original context?” before asking, “What does this text mean to us today?” When we examine the immediate context of Isa 9:6, we move beyond the birth announcement of a child with an exalted name to a larger prophecy of breaking the yoke of an oppressor (v4) and the ushering in of a lasting peace for the throne of David (v7). Isaiah lived in a tumultuous time. He saw the northern kingdom—the nation of Israel—uprooted from her land and carried off by the powerful and cruel Assyrian Empire. He prophesied about a child whose birth had signaled the coming freedom God would bring from the yoke of Assyria. As Jewish interpreters have long pointed out, Hezekiah nicely fits this expectation.[24] In the shadow of this looming storm, Hezekiah became king and instituted major religious reforms,[25] removing idolatry and turning the people to Yahweh. The author of kings gave him high marks: “He trusted in Yahweh, the God of Israel. After him there was no one like him among all the kings of Judah nor among those who were before him” (2 Kgs 18:5).[26] Then, during Hezekiah's reign, Sennacherib sent a large army against Judea and laid siege to Jerusalem. Hezekiah appropriately responded to the threatening Assyrian army by tearing his clothes, covering himself with sackcloth, and entering the temple to pray (2 Kings 19:1). He sent word to Isaiah, requesting prayer for the dire situation. Ultimately God brought miraculous deliverance, killing 185,000 Assyrians, which precipitated a retreat. There had not been such an acute military deliverance since the destruction of Pharaoh's army in the sea. Indeed, Hezekiah's birth did signal God's coming deliverance. In opposition to Hezekiah as the referent for Isa 9:6, Christian interpreters have pointed out that Hezekiah did not fulfill this prophecy en toto. Specifically, Hezekiah did not usher in “an endless peace” with justice and righteousness “from this time onward and forevermore” (Isa. 9:7). But, as John Roberts points out, the problem only persists if we ignore prophetic hyperbole. Here's what he says: If Hezekiah was the new king idealized in this oracle, how could Isaiah claim he would reign forever? How could Isaiah so ignore Israel's long historical experience as to expect no new source of oppression would ever arise? The language, as is typical of royal ideology, is hyperbolic, and perhaps neither Isaiah nor his original audience would have pushed it to its limits, beyond its conventional frames of reference, but the language itself invites such exploitation. If one accepts God's providential direction of history, it is hard to complain about the exegetical development this exploitation produced.[27] Evangelical scholar Ben Witherington III likewise sees a reference to both Hezekiah and a future deliverer. He writes, “[T]he use of the deliberately hyperbolic language that the prophet knew would not be fulfilled in Hezekiah left open the door quite deliberately to look for an eschatological fulfillment later.”[28] Thus, even if Isaiah's prophecy had an original referent, it left the door open for a true and better Hezekiah, who would not just defeat Assyria, but all evil, and not just for a generation, but forever. For this reason, it makes sense to take a “both-and” approach to Isa 9:6. Who Called His Name? Before going on to consider the actual name given to the child, we must consider the subject of the word וַיִּקְרָא (vayikra), “and he called.” Jewish interpreters have and continue to take אֵל גִבּוֹר (el gibbor), “Mighty God,” as the subject of this verb. Here are a few examples of this rendering: Targum Jonathan (2nd century) And his name has been called from before the One Who Causes Wonderful Counsel, God the Warrior, the Eternally Existing One—the Messiah who will increase peace upon us in his days.[29] Shlomo Yitzchaki (11th century) The Holy One, blessed be He, Who gives wondrous counsel, is a mighty God and an everlasting Father, called Hezekiah's name, “the prince of peace,” since peace and truth will be in his days.[30] Jacob ben Isaac Ashkenazi (16th century) “For a child is born to us.” A son will be born and this is Hezekiah. Though Ahaz is an evildoer, his son Hezekiah will be a righteous king. He will be strong in his service of the Holy One. He will study Torah and the Holy One will call him, “eternal father, peaceful ruler.” In his days there will be peace and truth.[31] The Stone Edition of the Tanach (20th century) The Wondrous Adviser, Mighty God, Eternal Father, called his name Sar-shalom [Prince of Peace][32] Although sometimes Christian commentators blithely accuse Jewish scholars of avoiding the implications of calling the child “Mighty God” and “Eternal Father,” the grammar does allow multiple options here. The main question is whether Isaiah specified the subject of the verb וַיִקְרָ (vayikra) or not. If he has, then the subject must be אֵל גִבּוֹר (el gibbor). If he has not, then the subject must be indefinite (i.e. “he” or “one”). What's more, the Masoretic punctuation of the Hebrew suggests the translation, “and the Wonderful Adviser, the Mighty God called his name, ‘Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace'”[33] However, Keil and Delitzsch point out problems with this view on both grammatical and contextual grounds. They write: [I]t is impossible to conceive for what precise reason such a periphrastic description of God should be employed in connection with the naming of this child, as is not only altogether different from Isaiah's usual custom, but altogether unparalleled in itself, especially without the definite article. The names of God should at least have been defined thus, הַיּוֹעֵץ פֵּלֶא הַגִּבּוֹר, so as to distinguish them from the two names of the child.”[34] Thus, though the Masoretic markings favor the Jewish translation, the grammar doesn't favor taking “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God” as the subject. It's certainly not impossible, but it is a strained reading without parallels in Isaiah and without justification in the immediate context. Let's consider another possibility. His Name Has Been Called Instead of taking אֵל גִּבּוֹר (el gibbor) as the subject, we can posit an indefinite subject for וַיִקְרָ (vayikra): “one has called.” Examples of this outside of Isaiah 9:6 include Gen 11:9; 25:26; Exod 15:23; and 2 Sam 2:16. The phenomenon appears in Gesenius (§144d) and Joüon and Muraoka (§155e), both of which include our text as examples. However, the translation “one has called his name” is awkward in English due to our lack of a generic pronoun like on in French or man in German. Accordingly, most translations employ the passive construction: “his name has been called,” omitting the subject.[35] This is apparently also how those who produced the Septuagint (LXX) took the Hebrew text, employing a passive rather than an active verb.[36] In conclusion, the translation “his name has been called” works best in English. Mighty Hero Now we broach the question of how to render אֵל גִּבּוֹר el gibbor. As I've already noted, a few translations prefer “mighty hero.” But this reading is problematic since it takes the two words in reverse order. Although in English we typically put an adjective before the noun it modifies, in Hebrew the noun comes first and then any adjectives that act upon it. Taking the phrase as אֵל גִּבּוֹר (gibbor el) makes “mighty” the noun and “God” the adjective. Now since the inner meaning of אֵל (el) is “strong” or “mighty,” and גִּבּוֹר gibbor means “warrior” or “hero,” we can see how translators end up with “mighty warrior” or “divine hero.” Robert Alter offers the following explanation: The most challenging epithet in this sequence is ‘el gibor [sic], which appears to say “warrior-god.” The prophet would be violating all biblical usage if he called the Davidic king “God,” and that term is best construed here as some sort of intensifier. In fact, the two words could conceivably be a scribal reversal of gibor ‘el, in which case the second word would clearly function as a suffix of intensification as it occasionally does elsewhere in the Bible.[37] Please note that Alter's motive for reversing the two words is that the text, as it stands, would violate all biblical usage by calling the Davidic king “God.” But Alter is incorrect. We have another biblical usage calling the Davidic king “God” in Psalm 45:6. We must allow the text to determine interpretation. Changing translation for the sake of theology is allowing the tail to wag the dog. Another reason to doubt “divine warrior” as a translation is that “Wherever ʾēl gibbôr occurs elsewhere in the Bible there is no doubt that the term refers to God (10:21; cf. also Deut. 10:17; Jer. 32:18),” notes John Oswalt.[38] Keil and Delitzsch likewise see Isa 10:21 as the rock upon which these translations suffer shipwreck.[39] “A remnant will return,” says Isa 10:21, “the remnant of Jacob, to the mighty God.” The previous verse makes it clear that “mighty God” refers to none other than “Yahweh, the holy one of Israel.” Without counter examples elsewhere in the Bible, we lack the basis to defy the traditional ordering of “God” as the noun and “mighty” or “warrior” as the adjective.[40] Mighty God-Man Did Isaiah foresee a human child who would also be the mighty God? Did he suddenly get “a glimpse of the fact that in the fullness of the Godhead there is a plurality of Persons,” as Edward Young thought?[41] Although apologists seeking to prove the deity of Christ routinely push for this reading, other evangelical scholars have expressed doubts about such a bold interpretation.[42] Even Keil and Delitzsch, after zealously batting away Jewish alternatives, admit Isaiah's language would not have suggested an incarnate deity in its original context.[43] Still, it would not be anachronistic to regard a king as a deity in the context of the ancient Near East. We find such exalted language in parallels from Egypt and Assyria in their accession oracles (proclamations given at the time a new king ascends the throne). Taking their cue from the Egyptian practices of bestowing divine throne names upon the Pharaoh's accession to the throne, G. von Rad and A. Alt envisioned a similar practice in Jerusalem. Although quite influential, Wegner has pointed out several major problems with this way of looking at our text: (1) the announcement is to the people in Isa 9:6, not the king; (2) Isa 9:6 does not use adoption language nor call the child God's son; (3) יֶלֶד (yeled), “child,” is never used in accession oracles; (4) the Egyptian parallels have five titles not four as in Isa 9:6; (5) Egyptians employ a different structure for accession oracles than Isa 9:6; and (6) we have no evidence elsewhere that Judean kings imitated the Egyptian custom of bestowing divine titles.[44] Another possibility, argued by R. A. Carlson, is to see the names as anti-Assyrian polemic.[45] Keeping in mind that Assyria was constantly threatening Judah in the lifetime of Isaiah and that the child born was to signal deliverance, it would be no surprise that Isaiah would cast the child as a deliberate counter-Assyrian hero. Still, as Oswalt points out, “[T]he Hebrews did not believe this [that their kings were gods]. They denied that the king was anything more than the representative of God.”[46] Owing to a lack of parallels within Israel and Isaiah's own penchant for strict monotheism,[47] interpreting Isa 9:6 as presenting a God-man is ad hoc at best and outright eisegesis at worst. Furthermore, as I've already noted, the grammar of the passage indicates a historical child who was already born. Thus, if Isaiah meant to teach the deity of the child, we'd have two God-men: Hezekiah and Jesus. Far from a courtly scene of coronation, Wegner makes the case that our text is really a birth announcement in form. Birth announcements have (1) a declaration of the birth, (2) an announcement of the child's name, (3) an explanation of what the name means, and (4) a further prophecy about the child's future.[48] These elements are all present in Isa 9:6, making it a much better candidate for a birth announcement than an accession or coronation oracle. As a result, we should not expect divine titles given to the king like when the Pharaohs or Assyrian kings ascended the throne; instead, we ought to look for names that somehow relate to the child's career. We will delve more into this when we broach the topic of theophoric names. Mighty God's Agent Another possibility is to retain the traditional translation of “mighty God” and see the child as God's agent who bears the title. In fact, the Bible calls Moses[49] and the judges[50] of Israel אֱלֹהִים (elohim), “god(s),” due to their role in representing God. Likewise, as I've already mentioned, the court poet called the Davidic King “god” in Ps 45:6. Additionally, the word אֵל (el), “god,” refers to representatives of Yahweh whether divine (Ps 82:1, 6) or human (John 10.34ff).[51] Thus, Isa 9:6 could be another case in which a deputized human acting as God's agent is referred to as God. The NET nicely explains: [H]aving read the NT, we might in retrospect interpret this title as indicating the coming king's deity, but it is unlikely that Isaiah or his audience would have understood the title in such a bold way. Ps 45:6 addresses the Davidic king as “God” because he ruled and fought as God's representative on earth. …When the king's enemies oppose him on the battlefield, they are, as it were, fighting against God himself.[52] Raymond Brown admits that this “may have been looked on simply as a royal title.”[53] Likewise Williamson sees this possibility as “perfectly acceptable,” though he prefers the theophoric approach.[54] Even the incarnation-affirming Keil and Delitzsch recognize that calling the child אֵל גִּבּוֹר (el gibbor) is “nothing further…than this, that the Messiah would be the image of God as no other man ever had been (cf., El, Ps. 82:1), and that He would have God dwelling within Him (cf., Jer. 33:16).”[55] Edward L. Curtis similarly points out that had Isaiah meant to teach that the child would be an incarnation of Yahweh, he would have “further unfolded and made central this thought” throughout his book.[56] He likewise sees Isa 9:6 not as teaching “the incarnation of a deity” but as a case “not foreign to Hebrew usage to apply divine names to men of exalted position,” citing Exod 21:6 and Ps 82:6 as parallels.[57] Notwithstanding the lexical and scholarly support for this view, not to mention my own previous position[58] on Isa 9:6, I'm no longer convinced that this is the best explanation. It's certainly possible to call people “Gods” because they are his agents, but it is also rare. We'll come to my current view shortly, but for now, let's approach the second controversial title. Eternal Father The word אֲבִיעַד (aviad), “Eternal Father,” is another recognizable appellative for Yahweh. As I mentioned in the introduction, translators have occasionally watered down the phrase, unwilling to accept that a human could receive such a title. But humans who pioneer an activity or invent something new are fathers.[59] Walking in someone's footsteps is metaphorically recognizing him as one's father.[60] Caring for others like a father is yet another way to think about it.[61] Perhaps the child is a father in one of these figurative senses. If we follow Jerome and translate אֲבִיעַד (aviad) as Pater futuri saeculi, “Father of the future age,” we can reconfigure the title, “Eternal Father,” from eternal without beginning to eternal with a beginning but without an end. However, notes Williamson, “There is no parallel to calling the king ‘Father,' rather the king is more usually designated as God's son.”[62] Although we find Yahweh referred to as “Father” twice in Isaiah (Isa 63:16; 64:7), and several more times throughout the Old Testament,[63] the Messiah is not so called. Even in the New Testament we don't see the title applied to Jesus. Although not impossible to be taken as Jesus's fatherly role to play in the age to come, the most natural way to take אֲבִיעַד (aviad) is as a reference to Yahweh. In conclusion, both “mighty God” and “eternal Father” most naturally refer to Yahweh and not the child. If this is so, why is the child named with such divine designations? A Theophoric Name Finally, we are ready to consider the solution to our translation and interpretation woes. Israelites were fond of naming their kids with theophoric names (names that “carry God”). William Holladay explains: Israelite personal names were in general of two sorts. Some of them were descriptive names… But most Israelite personal names were theophoric; that is, they involve a name or title or designation of God, with a verb or adjective or noun which expresses a theological affirmation. Thus “Hezekiah” is a name which means “Yah (= Yahweh) is my strength,” and “Isaiah” is a name which means “Yah (= Yahweh) has brought salvation.” It is obvious that Isaiah is not called “Yahweh”; he bears a name which says something about Yahweh.[64] As Holladay demonstrates, when translating a theophoric name, it is customary to supplement the literal phrase with the verb, “to be.” Hezekiah = “Yah (is) my strength”; Isaiah = “Yah (is) salvation.” Similarly, Elijah means “My God (is) Yah” and Eliab, “My God (is the) Father.” Theophoric names are not about the child; they are about the God of the parents. When we imagine Elijah's mother calling him for dinner, she's literally saying “My God (is) Yah(weh), it's time for dinner.” The child's name served to remind her who her God was. Similarly, these other names spoke of God's strength, salvation, and fatherhood. To interpret the named child of Isa 9:6 correctly, we must look at the previously named children in Isa 7 and 8. In chapter 7 the boy is called “Immanuel,” meaning “God (is) with us” (Isa 7:14). This was a historical child who signaled prophecy. Isaiah said, “For before the boy knows to reject evil and choose good, the land whose two kings you dread will be abandoned” (Isa 7:16). In Isa 8:1 we encounter “Maher-Shalal-Hash-Baz,” or “The spoil speeds, the prey hastens.”[65] This child has a two-sentence name with an attached prophecy: “For before the boy calls, ‘my father' or ‘my mother,' the strength of Damascus and the plunder of Samaria will be carried off before the king of Assyria” (Isa 8:4). Both children's sign names did not describe them nor what they would do, but what God would do for his people. Immanuel is a statement of faith. The name means God has not abandoned his people; they can confidently say, “God is with us” (Isa 8:10). Maher-Shalal-Hash-Baz does not mean that the child would become a warrior to sack Damascus and seize her spoils, but that God would bring about the despoiling of Judah's enemy. When we encounter a third sign-named child in as many chapters, we are on solid contextual grounds to see this new, longer name in the same light. Isaiah prophecies that this child has the government upon his shoulder, sits on the throne of David, and will establish a lasting period of justice and righteousness (Isa 9:5, 7). This child bears the name “Pele-Yoets-El-Gibbor-Aviad-Sar-Shalom.” The name describes his parents' God, the mighty God, the eternal Father. Although this perspective has not yet won the day, it is well attested in a surprising breadth of resources. Already in 1867, Samuel David Luzzatto put forward this position.[66] The Jewish Publication Society concurred in their 2014 study Bible: Semitic names often consist of sentences that describe God … These names do not describe that person who holds them but the god whom the parents worship. Similarly, the name given to the child in this v. does not describe that child or attribute divinity to him, but describes God's actions.[67] The New Oxford Annotated Bible (NRSV) footnote on Isa. 9:6 says, “As in many Israelite personal names, the deity, not the person named, is being described.”[68] Additional scholars advocating the view also include Holladay (1978), Wegner (1992), Goldingay (1999, 2015), and Williamson (2018). Even so, Keil and Delitzsch eschew “such a sesquipedalian name,” calling it “unskillful,” and arguing that it would be impractical “to be uttered in one breath.”[69] But this is to take the idea too literally. No one is going to actually call the child by this name. John Goldingay helpfully explains: So he has that complicated name, “An-extraordinary-counselor-is-the-warrior-God, the-everlasting-Father-is-an-officer-for-well-being.” Like earlier names in Isaiah (God-is-with-us, Remains-Will-Return, Plunder-hurries-loot-rushes), the name is a sentence. None of these names are the person's everyday name—as when the New Testament says that Jesus will be called Immanuel, “God [is] with us,” without meaning this expression is Jesus' name. Rather, the person somehow stands for whatever the “name” says. God gives him a sign of the truth of the expression attached to him. The names don't mean that the person is God with us, or is the remains, or is the plunder, and likewise this new name doesn't mean the child is what the name says. Rather he is a sign and guarantee of it. It's as if he goes around bearing a billboard with that message and with the reminder that God commissioned the billboard.[70] Still, there's the question of identifying Yahweh as שַׂר־שָׁלוֹם (sar shalom). Since most of our translations render the phrase “Prince of Peace,” and the common meaning of a prince is someone inferior to the king, we turn away from labeling God with this title. Although HALOT mentions “representative of the king, official” for the first definition their second is “person of note, commander.”[71] The BDB glosses “chieftain, chief, ruler, official, captain, prince” as their first entry.[72] Wegner adds: “The book of Isaiah also appears to use the word sar in the general sense of “ruler.””[73] Still, we must ask, is it reasonable to think of Yahweh as a שַׂר (sar)? We find the phrase שַׂר־הַצָּבָא (sar-hatsava), “prince of hosts,” in Daniel 8:11 and שַׂר־שָׂרִים (sar-sarim), “prince of princes,” in verse 25, where both refer to God.[74]  The UBS Translators' Handbook recommends “God, the chief of the heavenly army” for verse 11 and “the greatest of all kings” for verse 25.[75] The handbook discourages using “prince,” since “the English word ‘prince' does not mean the ruler himself but rather the son of the ruler, while the Hebrew term always designates a ruler, not at all implying son of a ruler.”[76] I suggest applying this same logic to Isa 9:6. Rather than translating שַׂר־שָׁלוֹם (sar shalom) as “Prince of Peace,” we can render it, “Ruler of Peace” or “Ruler who brings peace.” Translating the Name Sentences Now that I've laid out the case for the theophoric approach, let's consider translation possibilities. Wegner writes, “the whole name should be divided into two parallel units each containing one theophoric element.”[77] This makes sense considering the structure of Maher-shalal-hash-baz, which translates two parallel name sentences: “The spoil speeds, the prey hastens.” Here are a few options for translating the name. Jewish Publication Society (1917) Wonderful in counsel is God the Mighty, the Everlasting Father, the Ruler of peace[78] William Holladay (1978) Planner of wonders; God the war hero (is) Father forever; prince of well-being[79] New Jewish Publication Society (1985) The Mighty God is planning grace; The Eternal Father, a peaceable ruler[80] John Goldingay (1999) One who plans a wonder is the warrior God; the father for ever is a commander who brings peace[81] John Goldingay (2015) An-extraordinary-counselor-is-the-warrior-God, the-everlasting-Fathers-is-an-official-for-well-being[82] Hugh Williamson (2018) A Wonderful Planner is the Mighty God, An Eternal Father is the Prince of Peace[83] My Translation (2024) The warrior God is a miraculous strategist; the eternal Father is the ruler who brings peace[84] I prefer to translate אֵל גִּבּוֹר (el gibbor) as “warrior God” rather than “mighty God” because the context is martial, and  גִּבּוֹר(gibbor) often refers to those fighting in war.[85] “Mighty God” is ambiguous, and easily decontextualized from the setting of Isa 9:6. After all, Isa 9:4-5 tells a great victory “as on the day of Midian”—a victory so complete that they burn “all the boots of the tramping warriors” in the fire. The word פֶּלֶא (pele), though often translated “wonderful,” is actually the word for “miracle,” and יוֹעֵץ (yoets) is a participle meaning “adviser” or “planner.” Since the context is war, this “miracle of an adviser” or “miraculous planner” refers to military plans—what we call strategy, hence, “miraculous strategist.” Amazingly, the tactic God employed in the time of Hezekiah was to send out an angel during the night who “struck down one hundred eighty-five thousand in the camp of the Assyrians” (Isa 37:36). This was evidently the warrior God's miraculous plan to remove the threat of Assyria from Jerusalem's doorstep. Prophecies about the coming day of God when he sends Jesus Christ—the true and better Hezekiah—likewise foretell of an even greater victory over the nations.[86] In fact, just two chapters later we find a messianic prophecy of one who will “strike the earth with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked” (Isa 11:4). The next phrase, “The eternal Father,” needs little comment since God's eternality and fatherhood are both noncontroversial and multiply attested. Literally translated, שַׂר־שָׁלוֹם (sar-shalom) is “Ruler of peace,” but I take the word pair as a genitive of product.[87] Williamson unpacks this meaning as “the one who is able to initiate and maintain Peace.”[88] That his actions in the time of Hezekiah brought peace is a matter of history. After a huge portion of the Assyrian army died, King Sennacherib went back to Nineveh, where his sons murdered him (Isa 37:37-38). For decades, Judah continued to live in her homeland. Thus, this child's birth signaled the beginning of the end for Assyria. In fact, the empire itself eventually imploded, a fate that, at Hezekiah's birth, must have seemed utterly unthinkable. Of course, the ultimate peace God will bring through his Messiah will far outshine what Hezekiah achieved.[89] Conclusion We began by considering the phraseוַיִּקְרָא שְׁמוֹ  (vayikra sh'mo). We noted that the tense is perfect, which justifies a past-tense interpretation of the child who had already been born by the time of the birth announcement. I presented the case for Hezekiah as the initial referent of Isa 9:6 based on the fact that Hezekiah’s life overlapped with Isaiah’s, that he sat on the throne of David (v7), and that his reign saw the miraculous deliverance from Assyria's army. Furthermore, I noted that identifying the child of Isa 9:6 as Hezekiah does not preclude a true and better one to come. Although Isa 9:6 does not show up in the New Testament, I agree with the majority of Christians who recognize this text as a messianic prophecy, especially when combined with verse 7. Next we puzzled over the subject for phraseוַיִּקְרָא שְׁמוֹ  (vayikra sh'mo.) Two options are that the phrase פֶּלֶא יוֹעֵץ אֵל גִּבּוֹר (pele yoets el gibbor) functions as the subject or else the subject is indefinite. Although the Jewish interpreters overwhelmingly favor the former, the lack of definite articles and parallel constructions in Isaiah make me think the latter is more likely. Still, the Jewish approach to translation is a legitimate possibility. I explained how a passive voice makes sense in English since it hides the subject, and settled on “his name has been called,” as the best translation. Then we looked at the phrase אֵל גִּבּוֹר (el gibbor) and considered the option of switching the order of the words and taking the first as the modifier of the second as in “mighty hero” or “divine warrior.” We explored the possibility that Isaiah was ascribing deity to the newborn child. We looked at the idea of Isaiah calling the boy “Mighty God” because he represented God. In the end we concluded that these all are less likely than taking God as the referent, especially in light of the identical phrase in Isa 10:21 where it unambiguously refers to Yahweh. Moving on to אֲבִיעַד (aviad), we considered the possibility that “father” could refer to someone who started something significant and “eternal” could merely designate a coming age. Once again, though these are both possible readings, they are strained and ad hoc, lacking any indication in the text to signal a non-straightforward reading. So, as with “Mighty God,” I also take “Eternal Father” as simple references to God and not the child. Finally, we explored the notion of theophoric names. Leaning on two mainstream Bible translations and five scholars, from Luzzatto to Williamson, we saw that this lesser-known approach is quite attractive. Not only does it take the grammar at face value, it also explains how a human being could be named “Mighty God” and “Eternal Father.” The name describes God and not the child who bears it. Lastly, drawing on the work of the Jewish Publication Society, Goldingay, and Williamson, I proposed the translation: “The warrior God is a miraculous strategist; the eternal Father is the ruler who brings peace.” This rendering preserves the martial context of Isa 9:6 and glosses each word according to its most common definition. I added in the verb “is” twice as is customary when translating theophoric names. The result is a translation that recognizes God as the focus and not the child. This fits best in the immediate context, assuming Hezekiah is the original referent. After all, his greatest moment was not charging out ahead of a column of soldiers, but his entering the house of Yahweh and praying for salvation. God took care of everything else. Likewise, the ultimate Son of David will have God's spirit influencing him: a spirit of wisdom, understanding, counsel, might, knowledge, and fear of God (Isa 11:2). The eternal Father will so direct his anointed that he will “not judge by what his eyes see or decide by what his ears hear” (Isa 11:3). In his days God will bring about a shalom so deep that even the animals will become peaceful (Isa 11:6-8). An advantage of this reading of Isa 9:6 is that it is compatible with the full range of christological positions Christians hold. Secondly, this approach nicely fits with the original meaning in Isaiah’s day, and it works for the prophecy’s ultimate referent in Christ Jesus. Additionally, it is the interpretation with the least amount of special pleading. Finally, it puts everything into the correct order, allowing exegesis to drive theology rather than the other way around. Bibliography Kohlenberger/Mounce Concise Hebrew-Aramaic Dictionary of the Old Testament. Altamonte Springs: OakTree Software, 2012. The Holy Scriptures According to the Masoretic Text: A New Translation. Philadelphia, PA: The Jewish Publication Society, 1917. The Jewish Study Bible. Edited by Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler. Second ed. New York: Oxford University Press, 2014. Net Bible, Full Notes Edition. Edited by W. Hall Harris III James Davis, and Michael H. Burer. 2nd ed. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2019. The New Oxford Annotated Bible. Edited by Carol A. Newsom Marc Z. Brettler, Pheme Perkins. Third ed. New York: Oxford University Press, 2001. The Stone Edition of the Tanach. Edited by Nosson Scherman and Meir Zlotowitz. Brooklyn, NY: Artscroll, 1996. Tanakh, the Holy Scriptures: The New Jps Translation According to the Traditional Hebrew Text. 4th, Reprint. Philadelphia, PA: The Jewish Publication Society, 1985. Translation of Targum Onkelos and Jonathan. Translated by Eidon Clem. Altamonte Springs, FL: OakTree Software, 2015. Alter, Rober. The Hebrew Bible: Prophets, Nevi’im. Vol. 2. 3 vols. New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 2019. Ashkenazi, Jacob ben Isaac. Tze’enah Ure’enah: A Critical Translation into English. Translated by Morris M. Faierstein. Berlin: De Gruyter, 2017. https://www.sefaria.org/Tze’enah_Ure’enah%2C_Haftarot%2C_Yitro.31?lang=bi&with=About&lang2=en. Baumgartner, Ludwig Koehler and Walter. The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament. Edited by M. E. J. Richardson. Leiden: Brill, 2000. Brown, Raymond E. Jesus: God and Man, edited by 3. New York: Macmillan, 1967. Carlson, R. A. “The Anti-Assyrian Character of the Oracle in Is. Ix, 1-6.” Vetus Testamentum, no. 24 (1974): 130-5. Curtis, Edward L. “The Prophecy Concerning the Child of the Four Names: Isaiah Ix., 6, 7.” The Old and New Testament Student 11, no. 6 (1890): 336-41. Delitzsch, C. F. Keil and F. Commentary on the Old Testament. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1996. Finnegan, Sean. “Jesus Is God: Exploring the Notion of Representational Deity.” Paper presented at the One God Seminar, Seattle, WA, 2008, https://restitutio.org/2016/01/11/explanations-to-verses-commonly-used-to-teach-that-jesus-is-god/. Francis Brown, S. R. Driver, and Charles A. Briggs. The Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew and English Lexicon Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1996. Gesenius, Wilhelm. Gesenius’ Hebrew Grammar. Edited by E. Kautzsch and A. E. Cowley. 2nd ed. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1910. Goldingay, John. “The Compound Name in Isaiah 9:5(6).” The Catholic Biblical Quarterly 61, no. 2 (1999): 239-44. Goldingay, John. Isaiah for Everyone. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2015. Holladay, William L. Isaiah: Scroll of Prophetic Heritage. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1978. III, Ben Witherington. Isaiah Old and New. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2017. https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt1ggjhbz.7. Luzzatto, Samuel David. Shi’ur Komah. Padua, IT: Antonio Bianchi, 1867. O’Connor, Bruce K. Waltke and Michael P. An Introduction to Biblical Hebrew Syntax. Winona Lake, IN: Esenbrauns, 1990. Ogden, Graham S., and Jan Sterk. A Handbook on Isaiah. Ubs Translator's Handbooks. New York: United Bible Societies, 2011. Oswalt, John. The Book of Isaiah, Chapters 1-39. Nicot. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1986. Péter-Contesse, René and John Ellington. A Handbook on Daniel. Ubs Translator’s Handbooks. New York, NY: United Bible Societies, 1993. Roberts, J. J. M. First Isaiah. Vol. 23A. Hermeneia, edited by Peter Machinist. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2001. Thayer, Joseph Henry. A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1996. Walter Bauer, Frederick W. Danker, William F. Arndt, F. Wilbur Gingrich. A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2000. Wegner, Paul D. “A Re-Examination of Isaiah Ix 1-6.” Vetus Testamentum 42, no. 1 (1992): 103-12. Williamson, H. G. M. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Isaiah 1-27. Vol. 2. International Critical Commentary, edited by G. I. Davies and C. M. Tuckett. New York: Bloomsbury, 2018. Yitzchaki, Shlomo. Complete Tanach with Rashi. Translated by A. J. Rosenberg. Chicago, IL: Davka Corp, 1998. https://www.sefaria.org/Rashi_on_Isaiah.9.5.2?lang=bi&with=About&lang2=en. Young, Edward J. The Book of Isaiah: Chapters 1-18. Vol. 1. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1965. End Notes [1] Throughout I'll refer to Isaiah 9:6 based on the versification used in English translations. Hebrew Bibles shift the count by one, so the same verse is Isaiah 9:5. [2] Paul D. Wegner, “A Re-Examination of Isaiah Ix 1-6,” Vetus Testamentum 42, no. 1 (1992): 103. [3] BHS is the Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia, the standard Hebrew text based on the Leningrad Codex, a medieval Masoretic text. [4] In Hebrew the perfect tense roughly maps onto English past tense and the imperfect tense to future tense. [5] See NRSVUE, ESV, NASB20, NIV, NET, LSB, NLT, NKJ, ASV, KJV. [6] See translations by Robert Alter, James Moffat, and Duncan Heaster.  Also see Westminster Commentary, Cambridge Bible Commentary, New Century Bible Commentary, and The Daily Study Bible. [7] See New English Bible. [8] See Ibn Ezra. [9] See An American Testament. [10] “Held” means “hero” in German. In the Luther Bible (1545), he translated the phrase as “und er heißt Wunderbar, Rat, Kraft, Held, Ewig -Vater, Friedefürst,” separating power (Kraft = El) and hero (Held = Gibbor) whereas in the 1912 revision we read, “er heißt Wunderbar, Rat, Held, Ewig-Vater Friedefürst,” which reduced el gibbor to “Held” (hero). [11] See fn 4 above. [12] See New American Bible Revised Edition and An American Testament. [13] See New English Bible and James Moffatt's translation. [14] See Ibn Ezra. [15] See Duncan Heaster's New European Version. [16] See Word Biblical Commentary. [17] See Jewish Publication Society translation of 1917, the Koren Jerusalem Bible, and the Complete Jewish Bible. [18] In the Dead Sea Scrolls, 1QIsaa 8.24 reads “וקרא,” the vav-conversed form of “קרא,” translated “he will call,” an active future tense. This reading is implausible considering the unambiguous past tense of the two initial clauses that began verse 6: “a child has been born…a son has been given.” [19] “Here the Hebrew begins to use imperfect verb forms with the conjunction often rendered “and.” These verbs continue the tense of the perfect verb forms used in the previous lines. They refer to a state or situation that now exists, so they may be rendered with the present tense in English. Some translations continue to use a perfect tense here (so NJB, NJPSV, FRCL), which is better.” Graham S. Ogden, and Jan Sterk, A Handbook on Isaiah, Ubs Translator's Handbooks (New York: United Bible Societies, 2011). [20] H. G. M. Williamson, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Isaiah 1-27, vol. 2, International Critical Commentary, ed. G. I. Davies and C. M. Tuckett (New York: Bloomsbury, 2018), 371. [21] Wilhelm Gesenius, Gesenius’ Hebrew Grammar, ed. E. Kautzsch and A. E. Cowley, 2nd ed. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1910), §106n. [22] Bruce K. Waltke and Michael P. O’Connor, An Introduction to Biblical Hebrew Syntax (Winona Lake, IN: Esenbrauns, 1990), §30.5.1e. [23] John Goldingay takes a “both-and” position, recognizing that Isaiah was speaking by faith of what God would do in the future, but also seeing the birth of the son to the king as having already happened by the time of the prophecy. John Goldingay, Isaiah for Everyone (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2015), 42. [24] Jewish authors include Rashi, A. E. Kimchi, Abravanel, Malbim, and Luzzatto. [25] See 2 Kings 18:3-7. [26] Unless otherwise noted, all translations are my own. [27] J. J. M. Roberts, First Isaiah, vol. 23A, Hermeneia, ed. Peter Machinist (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2001), 153. [28] Ben Witherington III, Isaiah Old and New (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2017), 95-6, 99-100. https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt1ggjhbz.7. [29] Translation of Targum Onkelos and Jonathan, trans. Eidon Clem (Altamonte Springs, FL: OakTree Software, 2015). [30] Shlomo Yitzchaki, Complete Tanach with Rashi, trans. A. J. Rosenberg (Chicago, IL: Davka Corp, 1998). https://www.sefaria.org/Rashi_on_Isaiah.9.5.2?lang=bi&with=About&lang2=en. [31] Jacob ben Isaac Ashkenazi, Tze’enah Ure’enah: A Critical Translation into English, trans. Morris M. Faierstein (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2017). https://www.sefaria.org/Tze’enah_Ure’enah%2C_Haftarot%2C_Yitro.31?lang=bi&with=About&lang2=en. [32] Square brackets in original. The Stone Edition of the Tanach, ed. Nosson Scherman and Meir Zlotowitz (Brooklyn, NY: Artscroll, 1996). [33] Net Bible, Full Notes Edition, ed. W. Hall Harris III James Davis, and Michael H. Burer, 2nd ed. (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2019), 1266. [34] C. F. Keil and F. Delitzsch, Commentary on the Old Testament (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1996), 249-50. [35] As mentioned above, the Hebrew is not actually passive. [36] The LXX reads “καὶ καλεῖται τὸ ὄνομα αὐτοῦ” (kai kaleitai to onoma autou), which means “and his name is called.” [37] Rober Alter, The Hebrew Bible: Prophets, Nevi’im, vol. 2, 3 vols. (New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 2019), 651. [38] John Oswalt, The Book of Isaiah, Chapters 1-39, Nicot (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1986), 247. [39] Delitzsch, 252. [40] The אֵלֵי גִבּוֹרִים (eley gibborim) of Ezek 32.21 although morphologically suggestive of a plural form of el gibbor, is not a suitable parallel to Isa 9:6 since אֵלֵי (eley) is the plural of אַיִל (ayil), meaning “chief” not אֵל (el). Thus, the translation “mighty chiefs” or “warrior rulers” takes eley as the noun and gibborim as the adjective and does not actually reverse them. [41] Edward J. Young, The Book of Isaiah: Chapters 1-18, vol. 1 (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1965), 338. [42] Translator's note A on Isa 9:6 in the NET states, “[I]t is unlikely that Isaiah or his audience would have understood the title in such a bold way.” Net Bible, Full Notes Edition, 1267. [43] “The Messiah is the corporeal presence of this mighty God; for He is with Him, He is in Him, and in Him He is with Israel. The expression did not preclude the fact that the Messiah would be God and man in one person; but it did not penetrate to this depth, so far as the Old Testament consciousness was concerned.” Delitzsch, 253. [44] See Wegner 104-5. [45] See R. A. Carlson, “The Anti-Assyrian Character of the Oracle in Is. Ix, 1-6,” Vetus Testamentum, no. 24 (1974). [46] Oswalt, 246. [47] Isa 43:10-11; 44:6, 8; 45:5-6, 18, 21-22; 46:9. Deut 17:14-20 lays out the expectations for an Israelite king, many of which limit his power and restrict his exaltation, making deification untenable. [48] Wegner 108. [49] See Exod 4:16; 7:1. The word “God” can apply to “any person characterized by greatness or power: mighty one, great one, judge,” s.v. “אֱלֹהִים” in Kohlenberger/Mounce Concise Hebrew-Aramaic Dictionary of the Old Testament.. The BDAG concurs, adding that a God is “that which is nontranscendent but considered worthy of special reverence or respect… of humans θεοί (as אֱלֹהִים) J[ohn] 10:34f (Ps 81:6; humans are called θ. in the OT also Ex 7:1; 22:27,” s.v. “θεός” in A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature. [50] See Exod 21.6; 22:8-9. The BDB includes the definition, “rulers, judges, either as divine representatives at sacred places or as reflecting divine majesty and power,” s.v. “אֱלֹהִים” in The Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew and English Lexicon [51] Thayer points this out in his lexicon: “Hebraistically, equivalent to God’s representative or vicegerent, of magistrates and judges, John 10:34f after Ps. 81:6 (Ps. 82:6)” s.v. “θέος” in A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament. [52] Net Bible, Full Notes Edition, 1267. [53] Raymond E. Brown, Jesus: God and Man, ed. 3 (New York: Macmillan, 1967), 25. [54] Williamson, 397. [55] Delitzsch, 253. See also fn 40 above. [56] Edward L. Curtis, “The Prophecy Concerning the Child of the Four Names: Isaiah Ix., 6, 7,” The Old and New Testament Student 11, no. 6 (1890): 339. [57] Ibid. [58] Sean Finnegan, “Jesus Is God: Exploring the Notion of Representational Deity” (paper presented at the One God Seminar, Seattle, WA2008), https://restitutio.org/2016/01/11/explanations-to-verses-commonly-used-to-teach-that-jesus-is-god/. [59] Jabal was the father of those who live in tents and have livestock (Gen 4:20) and Jubal was the father of those who play the lyre and the pipe (Gen 4:21). [60] Jesus told his critics, “You are from your father the devil, and you choose to do your father's desires” (John 8:44). [61] Job called himself “a father to the needy” (Job 29:16) and Isaiah prophesied that Eliakim would be “a father to the inhabitants of Jerusalem” (Isa 22:21). [62] Williamson, 397. [63] For references to Yahweh as father to the people see Deut 32:6; Ps 103:13; Prov 3:12; Jer 3:4; 31.9; Mal 1.6; 2:10. For Yahweh as father to the messiah see 2 Sam 7:14; 1 Chron 7:13; 28:6; Ps 89:27. [64] William L. Holladay, Isaiah: Scroll of Prophetic Heritage (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1978), 108. [65] See NRSVUE fn on Isa 8:1. [66] והנה המכוון במאמר פלא יועץ וגו’ הוא כי האל הגבור שהוא אבי עד ואדון השלום, הוא יועץ וגוזר לעשות פלא לישראל בזמן ממלכת הילד הנולד היום, ואח”כ מפרש למרבה המשרה וגו’. ולפי הפירוש הזה לא לחנם האריך כאן בתארי האל, כי כוונת הנביא לרמוז כי בבוא הפלא שהאל יועץ וגוזר עתה, יוודע שהוא אל גבור ובעל היכולת ושהוא אב לעד, ולא יפר בריתו עם בניו בני ישראל, ולא ישכח את ברית אבותם. ושהוא אדון השלום ואוהב השלום, ולא יאהב העריצים אשר כל חפצם לנתוש ולנתוץ ולהאביד ולהרוס, אבל הוא משפילם עד עפר, ונותן שלום בארץ, כמו שראינו בכל הדורות. Chat GPT translation: “And behold, the intention in the phrase ‘Wonderful Counselor’ and so on is that the mighty God, who is the Eternal Father and the Prince of Peace, is the Counselor and decrees to perform a wonder for Israel at the time of the reign of the child born today. Afterwards, it is explained as ‘to increase the dominion’ and so on. According to this interpretation, it is not in vain that the prophet elaborates on the attributes of God here, for the prophet’s intention is to hint that when the wonder that God now advises and decrees comes about, it will be known that He is the Mighty God and possesses the ability and that He is the Eternal Father. He will not break His covenant with His sons, the children of Israel, nor forget the covenant of their ancestors. He is the Prince of Peace and loves peace, and He will not favor the oppressors whose every desire is to tear apart, destroy, and obliterate, but He will humble them to the dust and grant peace to the land, as we have seen throughout the generations.” Samuel David Luzzatto, Shi’ur Komah (Padua, IT: Antonio Bianchi, 1867). Accessible at Sefaria and the National Library of Israel. [67]The Jewish Study Bible, ed. Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler, Second ed. (New York: Oxford University Press, 2014), 784. [68] The New Oxford Annotated Bible, ed. Carol A. Newsom Marc Z. Brettler, Pheme Perkins, Third ed. (New York: Oxford University Press, 2001), 991. [69] Delitzsch, 249. [70] Goldingay, 42-3. [71] Ludwig Koehler and Walter Baumgartner, The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament, ed. M. E. J. Richardson (Leiden: Brill, 2000). [72] See s.v. “שַׂר” in The Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew and English Lexicon [73] Wegner 112. [74] Keil and Delitzsch say the sar of Dan 8:11 refers to “the God of heaven and the King of Israel, the Prince of princes, as He is called in v. 25,” Delitzsch, 297. [75] René and John Ellington Péter-Contesse, A Handbook on Daniel, Ubs Translator’s Handbooks (New York, NY: United Bible Societies, 1993). [76] Ibid. [77] Wegner 110-1. [78] The main text transliterates “Pele-joez-el-gibbor-/Abi-ad-sar-shalom,” while the footnote translates as indicated above. The Holy Scriptures According to the Masoretic Text: A New Translation (Philadelphia, PA: The Jewish Publication Society, 1917), 575. [79] Holladay, 109. [80] Tanakh, the Holy Scriptures: The New Jps Translation According to the Traditional Hebrew Text (4th: repr., Philadelphia, PA: The Jewish Publication Society, 1985), 634. [81] John Goldingay, “The Compound Name in Isaiah 9:5(6),” The Catholic Biblical Quarterly 61, no. 2 (1999): 243. [82] Goldingay, Isaiah for Everyone, 40. [83] Williamson, 355. [84] An alternative is “The warrior God is planning a miracle; the eternal Father is the ruler of peace.” [85] For גִּבּוֹר in a military context, see 1 Sam 17:51; 2 Sam 20.7; 2 Kgs 24:16; Isa 21.17; Jer 48:41; Eze 39:20; and Joel 2:7; 3:9. [86] See 2 Thess 2:8 and Rev 19:11-21 (cp. Dan 7:13-14). [87] See Gesenius § 128q, which describes a genitive of “statements of the purpose for which something is intended.” [88] Williamson, 401. [89] Isaiah tells of a time when God will “judge between nations,” resulting in the conversion of the weapons of war into the tools of agriculture and a lasting era when “nation shall not lift up sword against nation; neither shall they learn war any more” (Isa 2:4).

Song: Breathe Music by: Batya Levine   Notes: This was the song I needed to sing to help myself through the pre-election moment... building trust in myself to navigate whatever comes next, tap into the energy to work up to the last moment to effect the change I hope for. Batya Levine is an incredibly heart-sourced song composer, and they'll be releasing a new album in December... check out their website and get on the list to know when it appears -- it's sure to be wonderful, and "Breathe" will be on it -- and you'll know it!   Songwriter Info: Batya Levine (they/them) uses song as a tool for cultivating healing and resilience in their work as a communal song leader, shaliach tzibur (Jewish prayer leader) and cultural organizer. Batya is a co-founder and Director of Programs at Let My People Sing!, and they compose original music made of Ashkenazi yearning, queer heart-medicine, and emunah (faith). Batya is releasing their second album, Yivarechecha, in December 2024 through Rising Song Records.   Sharing Info: The song is free to share but Batya always welcomes financial and/or networking support if/when folks are so moved.   Song Learning Time Stamps: Start time of teaching: 00:03:34 Start time of reprise: 00:20:13   Links: Batya's website: https://www.batyalevine.com   Nuts & Bolts: 4:4, minor, 3-layer   Join this community of people who love to use song to help navigate life? Absolutely: https://dashboard.mailerlite.com/forms/335811/81227018071442567/share   Help us keep going: reviews, comments, encouragement, plus contributions... we float on your support. https://www.abreathofsong.com/gratitude-jar.html

HAKAFA 6 - 4Shalom Vazedek - Nissim Ashkenazi by TALMUD TORA MONTE SINAI

HAKAFA 7 - 1David Melej Israel - Nissim Ashkenazi by TALMUD TORA MONTE SINAI

HAKAFA 7 - 4Tizku Leshanim - Nissim Ashkenazi by TALMUD TORA MONTE SINAI

“I never thought there's antisemitism. It's something from the past, for my grandparents, for my mom a little, but it's not something in my generation, or my kids' generation. It's done . . . apparently, not.” Einat Admony is a chef, cookbook author, comedian, and social media star who grew up in Bnei Brak, Israel. With parents from Iran and Yemen, Einat spent her childhood in the kitchens of Mizrahi, Sephardi, and Ashkenazi neighbors. Learn about her family's deep-rooted Jewish heritage in Iran and the broader Middle East. Along with her mother Ziona's journey from Iran to Israel in 1948, Einat discusses the antisemitism she's dealt with online and on the streets in the past year. Hear her stories of Jewish-Muslim coexistence in Iran and memories of spices and perfumes that inspire Einat's dishes. Her cookbooks Balaboosta and Shuk, along with her Manhattan restaurant Balaboosta, reflect a blend of tradition and innovation. “You could not have Judaism today, if it were not for the Jews of Iran,” says Houman Sarshar, an independent scholar and director of publications at the Center for Iranian Jewish Oral History in Los Angeles. Sarshar highlights the historical relationship between Iran and Israel, noting that Iran was the second Muslim-majority country to recognize Israel post-1948.  The conversation also touches on the challenges faced by Jews in Iran, their cultural integration, and the impact of the 1979 Islamic Revolution.  —- Show notes: How much do you know about Jewish history in the Middle East? Take our quiz. Sign up to receive podcast updates. Learn more about the series. Song credits:  Pond5:  “Desert Caravans”: Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI), Composer: Tiemur Zarobov (BMI), IPI#1098108837 “Suspense Middle East” Publisher: Victor Romanov, Composer: Victor Romanov; Item ID: 196056047 ___ Episode Transcript: EINAT ADMONY: I've been in Israel a few months ago. It's like you always feel loved, you always feel supported. It's still home. It's always going to be my home. MANYA BRACHEAR PASHMAN: The world has overlooked an important episode in modern history: the 800,000 Jews who left or were driven from their homes in the Middle East and North Africa in the mid-20th century. Welcome to the second season of The Forgotten Exodus, brought to you by American Jewish Committee. This series explores that pivotal moment in history and the little-known Jewish heritage of Iran and Arab nations. As Jews around the world confront violent antisemitism and Israelis face daily attacks by terrorists on multiple fronts, our second season explores how Jews have lived throughout the region for generations despite hardship, hostility, and hatred, then sought safety and new possibilities in their ancestral homeland. I'm your host, Manya Brachear Pashman. Join us as we explore untold family histories and personal stories of courage, perseverance, and resilience from this transformative and tumultuous period of history for the Jewish people and the Middle East.  The world has ignored these voices. We will not.  This is The Forgotten Exodus. Today's episode: Leaving Iran. MANYA: Whether she's deviling eggs soaked in beet juice, simmering Oxtail in shawarma spices, or sprinkling za'atar on pastry dough, chef Einat Admony is honoring her family's Middle Eastern heritage. Both the places where they have lived for generations, as well as the place they have and will always call home: Israel.   EINAT/Clip: Start with brushing the puff pastry with olive oil and za'atar. Have some feta all around and shredded mozzarella. Take the other sheet and just cut it to one inch strips. Now we're going to twist. Need to be careful. Now we're just gonna brush the top with the mix of oil and za'atar. Get it some shiny and glazy. This is ready for the oven. Bake at 400 until it's golden. That's it super easy, just sprinkle some za'atar and eat. MANYA: For the chef, author, reality TV star, and comedian, food reflects the Zionist roots that have been a constant for Einat, the self-made balaboosta, who is largely credited with introducing Israeli cuisine to the U.S. That love for Israel goes back generations, long before the modern state existed, when her maternal ancestors lived in the land, that until 1935 was known as Persia, but is now known as Iran. Her own mother Ziona, the third of seven siblings, was even named for the destination where Einat's grandparents aspired to one day raise their family. Returning home to the land of Zion from which Jews had been exiled centuries earlier was always the goal. When you ask her why, Einat laughs in disbelief.  EINAT: Why? Why? That's homeland. I think a lot of Jewish people for hundreds of years was, that's in every prayer, it's in every Shabbat dinner evening. MANYA: The hatred directed toward Israel by Iran's regime in the form of the deadly attacks on Israel by Iran-backed terrorist groups and the Islamic Republic of Iran itself make it hard to believe that Iran was once a place where Jews and the Zionist movement thrived. But in fact, Iran's history includes periods when the wide-open roads between Iran and Israel ran two ways and the countries not only lived in harmony but worked in close partnership.  Iran was the second Muslim-majority country after Turkey to recognize the modern state of Israel after its formation in 1948, and the two established diplomatic ties. Regular flights ran between Tehran's Mehrabad International Airport and Tel Aviv's Ben Gurion airport.  SARSHAR: We cannot overlook the fact that since October 29, 539 BCE the Jewish community of Iran remains to this day the largest community of Jews anywhere in the Middle East outside the state of Israel. To this day. You could not have Judaism today, if it were not for the Jews of Iran.  MANYA: Houman Sarshar is an independent scholar and director of publications at the Center for Iranian Jewish Oral History in Los Angeles. He has edited a number of books, including Esther's Children: A Portrait of Iranian Jews.  SARSHAR: The history of the Jews in Iran begins about 2,700 years ago, when the first community of known Jews was taken to Iran. They are commonly believed to be one of the 10 Lost Tribes. And then when we fast forward to when Nebuchadnezzar came and destroyed the temple in Jerusalem and took Jews into captivity. Some years after that at 539 BCE on October 29, 539 BCE, to be exact, Cyrus the Great, the founder of the Achaemenid dynasty, liberated Babylon and gave Jews the permission to go back to Israel and rebuild the Second Temple. MANYA: Cyrus the Great – a Persian emperor particularly renowned among contemporary scholars for the respect he showed toward peoples' customs and religions in the lands that he conquered. According to the Book of Ezra in the Hebrew Bible, Cyrus even paid for the restoration of the Jewish temple in Jerusalem. SARSHAR: This is known as the Second Temple period in Jewish history, and under the Achaemenid dynasty, Jews participated in every level of society. And a few centuries forward, around the 5th Century, we know the Jews continue to live with many freedoms, because that is the era when the Babylonian Talmud was originally produced in Iran by Rav Ashi. So, you know, there was a thriving rabbanut (rabbanite) in Iran who had the freedom and the luxury and the time to be able to produce such an important document as the Talmud, which has become the cornerstone of all jurisprudence that we know, Western law, and everything. MANYA: The advent and arrival of Islam in Iran in the 7th Century CE changed circumstances somewhat. As was the case across the Middle East, all non-Muslims became dhimmis – residents who paid a special tax and lived under certain restrictions. The situation for Jews worsened in the 16th Century when the Safavid dynasty made the Shiite creed the dominant form of Islam in Iran. Fatwas made life for all non-Shiites quite difficult. SARSHAR: And for reasons that are still open to discussion, all of these restrictions were most vehemently imposed on the Jews of Iran. And because of these restrictions, all non-Shiites were considered religiously impure. And this religious impurity, kind of like the concept of the untouchable sect in India, they were considered pollutive. MANYA: Jews could not look Muslims in the eye. They were placed in ghettos called mahaleh where they could not leave on rainy days for fear the water that splattered on them could contaminate the water supply. They wore yellow stars and special shoes to distinguish them from the rest of the population. They were not allowed to purchase property from Muslims or build homes with walls that were higher than those of their Muslim neighbors. SARSHAR: They could not, for example, participate in the trade of edible goods because, you know, fruits and vegetables and meats carried this pollution. So Muslims could no longer consume the foods that were touched by Jews. And as a result, this created a certain path forward in history for the Jews of Iran.  They went into antique trades. They went into carpet trades. They went into work of textiles. They became musicians. And for the following 500 years, these restrictions kind of guided the way the Jews of Iran lived in that country, even though they had been there for thousands of years previously. MANYA: Houman said the 1895 arrival of the Alliance Israélite Universelle, a Paris-based network of schools for Jewish children throughout the Middle East and North Africa, including within the mahalehs in Persia, was the first step in a series of improvements for Jews there. SARSHAR: Previous to that, Jews were not allowed to get any kind of an education whatsoever. The only teachers were the Muslim clergy, and they refused to teach anything to Jewish students. So this allowed for the Jewish community to finally start to get a Western-style education, which was very important at that time, given all of the dynamics that were going on in society with modernity. MANYA: As educational opportunities increased in the middle of the 19th Century, so did opportunities for the courtiers and elite to travel and see the Western world as it industrialized and modernized, expanding international trade and sharing wealth more widely. SARSHAR: Often they would be sent by their families to go and try to see if they can, you know, find a way to expand the family's businesses and lives as merchants, and they would come back shocked. I mean, Iran was a place where you know of mostly mud brick homes and dirt roads and people riding around on donkeys. And imagine this is all you've known. You never see women walking around the street. The only women you have ever seen with your own eyes in your life are your mom, your sister, your daughter or your wife, and occasionally, sex workers. And that's it. So all of a sudden, you know, you travel a couple of months by boat and train, and you get to Paris, and it's impossible to try to even conceive of the experience. It must have been something like the Hegelian experience of the sublime. What can the world look like? And where is it that I live in, and why isn't my country the same as this? MANYA: By the early 20th Century, the Persian people concluded the answer to that question was in the rule of law. The reason the European nations provided such opportunity for the community at-large had to do with the fact that the law of the land was not arbitrary or enforced by religion or royalty. It was embedded in a constitution – a set of laws that define the structure of a government and the rights of its citizens – a Western tenet that reduced the power of the clergy and created a parliament called the Majles. SARSHAR: They were starting to read travel journals. They were starting to understand the perspective that Westerners had on Iranians, and those perspectives were often awful. You know, the Western world believed, for example –the country was corrupt to the bone in every respect.  So all of these things gradually led to a call for a constitution, the major pivot of which was the establishment of a legislature of law that would start to create a community where everyone can feel like they're equal in the eyes of the law and have something to gain by trying to improve the country as a whole. Iran became the first constitutional monarchy in the Middle East in 1906 when that revolution happened, it was a momentous event. And really, things really, really did, in fact, start to change. MANYA: In 1925, Reza Shah Pahlavi – an arch nationalist who wanted to propel Iran forward into the industrial age – took over the crown of Iran. He welcomed any Iranian citizen to participate in that agenda. SARSHAR: By now, we had a good two generations of Jews who had been French-educated by the Allianz Society.  They had all gone to France at some point in their lives, so they were able to participate in this industrialization of the country, given the language skills that they had and some of the connections they had built in the Western world. MANYA: Both World Wars in Europe took a massive toll on Iran. Despite declaring neutrality, Iran was occupied by European nations that took over the nation's agriculture, treating Iran as a pantry to feed the armies. Droughts and disease worsened the toll. SARSHAR: One of the lesser-known factoids about history is that during World War I, the nation that lost the most individuals as a result of the war was Iran. Above and beyond all European nations who were at war, because of a famine that had started in Iran. The same dynamic started to happen in World War II. MANYA: With nationalist fever sweeping Europe and Iran, the Allies feared the arch-nationalist Shah would go the way of Franco in Spain, Mussolini in Italy, and Hitler in Germany. They also feared the Shah would collaborate with Hitler's Germany to provide oil for the German oil machine and cease being the pantry the Allies needed it to be. In 1941, the Western powers convinced him to abdicate the throne to his son Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi. And when the war ended, Iran was able to enjoy the same economic benefits as the rest of the world at peace time. Most importantly, it was able to profit from its own oil reserves, significantly boosting Iran's national income. SARSHAR: In 1941, it was really the beginning of what is commonly referred to by the scholars of Jewish Iranian history as the Golden Age of Iranian Jewry. From 1941 until the revolution in 1978, the Jewish community of Iran saw a meteoric rise to power and social wealth. Industries such as pharmaceuticals, banking, insurance, real estate development, and other major industries, the aluminum plastics industries in Iran, all were either directly owned by the Jews of Iran or managed under their management.  And during this period, really, we can say that for the first time, after 2,500 years, the Jews of Iran really started to experience the kinds of freedoms that they had not seen since the Achaemenid dynasty. And it is during this time that, you know, we see, really, that life started to change for the Jews of Iran, even though some of the age-old social dynamics were still there.  The institutionalized antisemitism had not been completely wiped out. But for the most part, things had changed because Iranian society in general was also being Westernized, light speed. And many educated people had realized that antisemitism was really looked down upon, you know, that kind of prejudice was really no longer acceptable in the world at large. So many, many sections of the community really had shifted, genuinely shifted. And some, even though maybe their feelings had not changed, knew that their antisemitism was something that they needed to keep private. MANYA: At that time, Iran also became a refuge for Jews fleeing Europe and other parts of the Middle East. On June 1, 1941, a brutal pogrom in Iraq known as the Farhud, incited by Nazi propaganda, targeted Jews celebrating the holiday of Shavuot. Nearly 200 Jews were murdered in the streets. The violence became a turning point for Iraqi Jews. Thousands fled, many stopping in Iran, which became a way station for those headed to Palestine.  In 1942, thousands of Jewish refugees from Poland who had fled across the border into the Soviet Union during the German invasion traveled on trains and ships to Iran. Among the refugees – 1,000 orphaned children.  As Zionist leaders worked to negotiate the young Jews' immigration to Palestine, the Jewish Agency established the “Tehran Home for Jewish Children” – a complex of tents on the grounds of a former Iranian Air Force barracks outside Tehran. More than 800 orphans, escorted by adults, most of them also refugees, moved from Tehran to kibbutzim in Palestine the following year. Later, in 1948, when most Arab League states forbade the emigration of their Jews after the creation of Israel, the Zionist underground continued to smuggle Jews to Iran at about a rate of 1,000 a month, before they were flown to Israel. SARSHAR: The Zionist movement was fairly strong in Iran. It was a very lively movement. The Balfour Declaration was celebrated in all of the Allianz schools in Iran, and very soon thereafter, the first Zionist organization of Iran was established. And truly many of its founding fathers were some of the leading industrialists and intellectuals in Iranian society, in the Jewish Iranian community for the years to come. It was not unlike the kind of Zionism we see today in the United States, for example. You know, the wealthy families of the Jewish communities in New York and Los Angeles, all are very passionate about Israel, but you don't see very many of them selling their homes and packing up and moving to Israel because they just don't want to do it. They feel like they're very comfortable here. And what matters is that a state of Israel should exist, and they are political advocates of that state and of that policy and of its continued existence, but not necessarily diehard participants in the experiment itself. Iranians, after the establishment of the State of Israel, were being encouraged to move to Israel, and the Israeli government was having a lot of difficulty with that, because a lot of Iranians were seeing that life had become better for them, and they weren't as willing to leave, despite the fact that the Kourosh Project provided airplanes to get Jews out of Iran. My own great-grandmother was one of those passengers. She is buried in Mount of Olives in Jerusalem. She was one of the early citizens of Israel who went to live out the Zionist dream. MANYA: Both sides of Einat's family – her mother and father's ancestors – were among those early Israeli citizens. Einat's father was born in Tel Aviv. His parents and grandparents had come from Yemen in the late 19th Century. Einat's mother Ziona was 10 years old when in 1948, the family left Kerman, a city in southeastern Iran known for its carpet weaving and woolen shawls. They arrived in Israel with their suitcases ready to fulfill their dream. But living the dream in the new Jewish nation was not easy. After all, the day after Israel declared its independence, Arab nations attacked the Jewish state, launching the first of a series of Arab-Israeli Wars. EINAT: The story of my mom, it's a very interesting story. The family didn't have much money. There wasn't like, rich family that left, very different story. No, both of my parents come from very, I would say, very poor family. My grandpa was, like, dealing with textile. He was like, traveling from town to town with fabric. And that's what they did. They put them in what's called ma'aborot, which was like a very kind of small villages, tin houses. My mom always said there were seven kids, so all of them in one room. In the winter it's freezing; in the summer, it's super hot. But it was also close to the border, so the one window they have, they always had to cover it so at night, the enemy cannot see the light inside that room and shoot there. Also in the ma'aabarot, nobody speaks the same language. So, it was Moroccan and Iraqi and nobody speak the same dialect or the same language. So, they cannot even communicate quite yet. MANYA: Most of Ziona's six siblings did not go to school. To make it possible for Ziona, her parents placed her in a foster home with an Iraqi family in Ramat Gan, east of Tel Aviv. EINAT: My mom's family decided that for her, she should get education, because most of the siblings didn't went to school or anything, So they put her in a foster home. In an Iraqi home, and she didn't speak a word there. So my mom, as a 10 years old, became a kid for foster parents that live in a center in Ramat Gan, where I basically grew up. And she got education, which was great. She learned also Iraqi, which is Arabic. So she speaks fluent Arabic, but she had not an easy life in coming to Israel from a different country. MANYA: Ziona has shared many of these stories with her daughter in the kitchen and dining room as they prepare and enjoy dishes that remind them of home. When she visited her daughter at her home in upstate New York at the end of the summer, Einat collected as many stories as she could over cutting boards, steaming pots, and sizzling pans. EINAT: There's a lot of story coming up, some old story that I know, some new stories. And it's really nice, because my mom is 84, 85. So, it's really nice to capture all of it, all of it. There is a lot of interesting stuff that happened during the first 10 years when she came to Israel.  That's the main, I think, I always talk about, like, how I grew up and how much food was a very substantial part of our life, if not the biggest part. You know, it's like, family can fight and this, but when it's come to the dinner, it's just change everything, the dynamic. For us, it was a big, significant part of everything. So obviously, most of these stories and memories come in while we're cooking or eating. A lot of time she used to talk about, and still talking about the smells, the smells of the flowers, the smells of the zafar (perfume). She still have the nostalgia from that time and talking very highly about what Iran used to be, and how great, and the relationship between the Muslims and the Jews back then. My grandpa's best friend was crying when he left, and he said: ‘Please don't go. Stay with us.' And he said: ‘I want to go to homeland.' So, they have a really great relationship. She's always talking, actually, about how they come for Shabbat dinner, the friends if they put the cigarettes outside of the door in Shabbat because they were observant. So cigarettes, lighter, everything, they keep it outside, in the garden, not coming inside the house. So a lot of mutual respect for the religion to each other. And I love that stories. It just showed what's happened when people take it extreme. MANYA: Einat's cookbooks and restaurant menus are filled with recipes from her own childhood and her parents' upbringing. To satisfy the appetite of her father, a former Israeli athlete, her house always had hummus and every weekend, the family made a hilbeh sauce --  a traditional Yemenite fenugreek dip made with cardamom, caraway seeds and chili flakes. Other recipes reflect her mother's Persian roots. And then there are recipes that, at first blush, seem to come out of left field, but are inspired by the Iraqi Jewish foster family that raised her mother, and the Mizrahi, Sephardi, and Ashkenazi neighbors that passed through the dining room and kitchen where Einat was raised in Bnei Brak.  Now a Haredi town east of Tel Aviv, it was then a diverse population of Jews from, well, everywhere. Einat still remembers standing on a stool next to the Moroccan neighbor in her building learning how to roll couscous. EINAT: One neighbor that was my second mom, her name was Tova, and she was Moroccan, so it was like, I have another Moroccan mom. But all the building was all Holocaust survivors. None of them had kids, and they were all speaking in Yiddish, mostly. So I grew up with a lot of mix. I wouldn't say, you know, in my time, it's not like our neighborhood. I grew up in Bnei Brak, and our neighborhood was very, it was before Bnei Brak became so religious like today. It was still religious, if you go really in, but we're close to Ramat Gan, and I have to say that it's, I would say, I didn't grow up with, it's very mixed, very mixed.  Wouldn't say I grew up just with Moroccan or Mizrahi, I say that it's very, very mixed. And my mom same. I think a lot of her friend is like, It's my mom would speak some Yiddish. She would do Kugel on Shabbat next to the jachnun and all the Mizrahi food. You know, this is the multi-pot and one things I love in Israel. You can see in one table so many different cultures. And that's something that would have happened in my house a lot. MANYA: That amalgam of Jewish cultures is reflected in her cookbooks Balaboosta and Shuk. It also shows up in her menu at the brick-and-mortar Balaboosta, a quaint Middle Eastern trattoria on Mulberry Street in Manhattan.  The name Balaboosta is borrowed from Yiddish meaning “a perfect housewife” – a twist on ba'al habayit, Hebrew for master of the house, or boss. But Einat insists that the term is no longer exclusively Ashkenazi, nor does it refer exclusively to a woman's domestic role. EINAT: An old friend, chef, asked me when I went to open Balaboosta, and I said, ‘I don't have a name.' She said: ‘What do you call a badass woman in Hebrew?' I'm like, ‘balaboosta.' She said, ‘It's a perfect name. We done.' Took five minutes to find this name, and I love it. It's really connected because for me it's so so much different things. You know, I always talk about the 20th century balaboosta. The balaboosta that outside going to work, the balaboosta that asking a man for a date. The balaboosta that it's not just like she's the housewife and the homekeeper. It's much more than that. Today, she's a multitask badass.  It's much more spiritual than what it is. I think it's the one that can bond the people together and bring them together and make peace between two parties clashing. So for me, it's much more than somebody that can cook and clean. So, much, much more than that. MANYA: Einat's parents became more religious when she was 12, which of course had the opposite effect on their daughter: she rebelled. When her time came to do her mandatory service in the Israel Defense Force, she was determined not to serve in a role typically assigned to women. She requested a post as a firing instructor. But after reviewing the high school transcript shaped by her rebellious adolescence, the IDF assigned her to the Nevatim Air Base where she served as a chauffeur for fighter pilots. EINAT: Back then most women would be secretaries giving coffee to some assholes. I was trying not to do that, and somehow I got very lucky, and I was in the same division, I was in the Air Force. I had amazing time for two years. I start the military a very different person, and left a very different person. I used to hang with a lot of bad people before, really bad people. And when I get to the military, I was a driver of pilots, it's the top of the top of the top in the hierarchy in the military in all IDF. So now I'm hanging with people that have the biggest ambition ever, and I'm learning new stuff, and everything opened up, even my language changed completely. Everything. I was want to travel more than I ever want before, and I have like, crazy dreams. MANYA: To make sure the elite pilots were well-fed, the IDF bused in a group of Yemenite grandmothers to provide ochel bayit, or home-cooked meals. Einat befriended the kitchen staff and helped out from time to time. Then in January 1991, she was tapped to cook a meal that probably launched her career. The IDF chiefs of staff had convened at Nevatim base to discuss the U.S. plan to bomb Iraq during the Gulf War and what Israel would do if Saddam Hussein retaliated with an attack on the Jewish state. But they needed to plot that strategy on full stomachs. A couple of pilots served as her sous chefs. That night, the Israeli generals dined on Chinese chicken with garlic, honey, and soy. And a rice salad. EINAT: It was definitely the turning point, the military.  I would say there is some values of relationship and working ethics that I wouldn't see anywhere else, and that's coming, I think because the military. They're waking up in the morning, the friendship, they're no snitching or none of this. It's to stand up for each other. There is so many other values that I grabbed from that. So when I start my culinary career, and I was in a fine dining kitchen, it was very helpful, very helpful. MANYA: After spending five years in a van driving around Germany – an extended celebration of freedom after IDF service --  it was time to get serious about a career. A culinary career made as good a sense as any. Einat worked as a waitress in Eilat and enrolled in culinary school. At the end, she marched into the kitchen of Keren, one of the first restaurants in Israel to offer haute cuisine. She got an internship, then a job. The former restaurant, run by Israeli Chef and television host Haim Cohen, is credited for reinventing Israeli cuisine. Now, as a restaurant owner and TV personality herself, Einat is largely credited for introducing Israeli cuisine to the U.S. But before she became the self-made Balaboosta of fine Israeli dining, Einat was America's Falafel Queen, made famous by two victories on the Food Network's show Chopped and her first restaurant – now a fast food chain called Ta'im Falafel. But her fame and influence when it comes to Israeli cooking has exposed her to a fair bit of criticism. She has become a target on social media by those who accuse Israelis of appropriating Palestinian foods – an argument she calls petty and ridiculous. So ridiculous, she has found the best platform to address it is on the stage of her new hobby: stand-up comedy. Cooking has always been her Zen. But so is dark humor. EINAT: I like comedy more than anything, not more than food, but close enough. EINAT/Clip: Yeah, this year was great here on Instagram, lot of hate comments, though. A lot about food appropriation, me making Arabic dishes. So let me clarify something here. I check my DNA through ancestry.com and I am 97% Middle Eastern, so I fucking bleed hummus. EINAT: It's very petty. Food, supposed always to share. Food supposed to moving forward.  It's tiring and life is much more complex than to even argue and have a debate about stupid things. I'm done. OK, yes, we're indigenous.I have connection to the land. My parents, my grandparents and great grandparents have connection to that land. Okay, I get it. Now we need to solve what's going on, because there was Palestinian that lived there before, and how we can, for me, how we change the ideology, which I don't see how we can, but how we can change the ideology, convince them that they want peace. And they want…I don't know. MANYA: Needless to say, in the year that has followed the attacks of October 7, stand-up comedy has not been the balm it once was. The attacks that unfolded that day by Iran-backed terrorists that killed more than 1,200 Israelis and kidnapped more than 250 more was simply too devastating. EINAT: I was broken there, my husband was with me, I was every day on a bed crying, and then going to work, and it was like I couldn't hear music, because every music thinking about Nova and my friends and then I couldn't see babies with a mom. Everything was a trigger. It was bad. We had a disaster of October 7 and then October 8 to see the world reaction was another. It's not just enough that we going through so much grief and need to kind of contain all that emotion and crazy and anger and rage and now we need to see the world's. Like, ok. I never thought there is antisemitism. It's something from the past, for my grandparents, for my mom a little, but it's not something in my generation, or my kids' generation. It's done, apparently, not. MANYA: The lack of sympathy around the world and among her culinary peers only amplified Einat's grief. As a way to push for a cease-fire and end U.S. support for Israel, nearly 900 chefs, farmers and others in the food industry signed a pledge to boycott Israel-based food businesses and culinary events that promote Israel. EINAT: I felt very, very alone, very alone. The first few months, I felt like, wow, not one call from anyone to check on me. It was pretty sad. At the same time, I'm in the best company ever Jewish community. There is nothing like that, nothing. MANYA: Her team at Balaboosta also checked in on their Israeli boss. But they too were scared. Soon after she posted pictures of the hostages on the window of her restaurant, she confronted a group of teenagers who tried to tear them down. EINAT: I stand in front of them and I said, ‘You better move fast'. MANYA: It's no secret that Iran helped plan Oct. 7. What is not as well known is how many Jews still live and thrive in Iran. Before the 1979 Islamic Revolution, there were nearly 100,000 Jews in Iran. Today, Israeli sources say the population numbers less than 10,000, while the regime and Iran's Jewish leaders say it's closer to 20,000. Regardless, Iran's Jewish community remains the largest in the Middle East outside Israel.  To be sure, the constitution adopted in 1906 is still in place nominally, and it still includes Jews as a protected religious minority. Jews in Iran have synagogues, access to kosher meat, and permission to consume wine for Shabbat, despite a national ban on alcohol. There's also a Jewish representative in Iran's parliament or Majlis. But all women and girls regardless of religion are required to wear a veil, according to the Islamist dress code, and Jews are pressured to vote in elections at Jewish-specific ballot stations so the regime can monitor their participation. Zionism is punishable by death and after Oct. 7, the regime warned its Jewish citizens to sever contact with family and friends in Israel or risk arrest. They also can't leave. Iranian law forbids an entire Jewish nuclear family from traveling abroad at the same time. At least one family member, usually the father, must remain behind to prevent emigration. But Houman points out that many Iranian Jews, including himself, are deeply attached to Iranian culture. As a resident of Los Angeles, he reads Persian literature, cooks Persian herb stew for his children and speaks in Persian to his pets. He would return to Iran in an instant if given the opportunity to do so safely. For Jews living in Iran it may be no different. They've become accustomed to living under Islamist laws. They may not want to leave, even if they could. SARSHAR: The concept of living and thriving in Iran, for anyone who is not related to the ruling clergy and the Revolutionary Guard, is a dream that feels unattainable by anyone in Iran, let alone the Jews. In a world where there is really no fairness for anyone, the fact that you're treated even less fairly almost fades. MANYA: Scholars say since the Islamic Revolution, most Jews who have left Iran have landed in Los Angeles or Long Island, New York. Still, more Jews of Iranian descent live in Israel – possibly more than all other countries combined. The reason why? Because so many like Einat's family made aliyah–up until the mid-20th Century.  It's hard to say where another exodus might lead Iranian Jews to call home. Einat will be forever grateful that her family left when they still could and landed in a beautiful and beloved place. Though she lives in the U.S. now, she travels back to Israel at least twice a year. EINAT: It's a dream for every Jew, it's not just me. It's the safe zone for every Jew. It's the one place that, even if we have, it's not safe because there is people around us that want to kill us. It's still emotionally. You know, I've been in Israel a few months ago, it's like, you always feel loved, you always feel supported. It's incredible. And it's still home. It's always going to be my home. MANYA: Persian Jews are just one of the many Jewish communities who, in the last century, left Middle Eastern and North African countries to forge new lives for themselves and future generations.  Many thanks to Einat for sharing her family's story. You can enjoy some of her family's favorite recipes in her cookbooks Balaboosta and Shuk. Her memoir Taste of Love was recently released in  an audio and digital format.  Too many times during my reporting, I encountered children and grandchildren who didn't have the answers to my questions because they'd never asked. That's why one of the goals of this project is to encourage you to ask those questions. Find your stories. Atara Lakritz is our producer. T.K. Broderick is our sound engineer. Special thanks to Jon Schweitzer, Nicole Mazur, Sean Savage, and Madeleine Stern, and so many of our colleagues, too many to name really, for making this series possible. You can subscribe to The Forgotten Exodus on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you listen to podcasts, and you can learn more at AJC.org/theforgottenexodus.  The views and opinions of our guests don't necessarily reflect the positions of AJC. You can reach us at theforgottenexodus@ajc.org. If you've enjoyed this episode, please be sure to spread the word, and hop onto Apple Podcasts or Spotify to rate us and write a review to help more listeners find us.

On this episode of Taste Buds with Deb, host Debra Eckerling speaks with Ken Albala, author of Opulent Nosh: A Cookbook for Audacious Appetites and other books about food.   A professor of history at the University of the Pacific, Albala's other books span from Eating Right in the Renaissance to The Great Gelatin Revival: Savory Aspics, Jiggly Shots, and Outrageous Desserts. He has written historical cookbooks; books on fine dining, banqueting, and individual ingredients; and more. Albala is currently working on an atlas of fermentation, as well as one on carving spoons, which is something he taught himself to do.   Opulent Nosh, which includes more than 100 recipes that transform simple dishes into memorable feasts, actually began as a breakfast book.     “I love breakfast because it's the one meal I get to cook whatever I want,” Albala explains. “And, if I make something that doesn't taste good, it doesn't matter; I'll eat it the next day.”   Albala sent the breakfast version to a half dozen agents, who called breakfast "passe." He considered going the self-publishing route, but that didn't work out either. In the end, Albala replaced the word "breakfast" with "nosh," made a few other changes, and had success getting it out into the world.   “One of the messages I've been trying to promote in most of my books is that cooking is inherently fun, that everyone should do it, as often as they can,” Albala says. “It's one of those fundamental things about humanity that gives us pleasure, like making music or dancing or running around in circles, whatever you do to make you happy.”   Albala, whose mother's side is Ashkenazi and father's is Sephardic, talks about his background and how it led to his deep dive into food. He also shares Opulent Nosh's origin story, examples of his unique cooking style, and his recipe for Matzo Brei, which you can find at JewishJournal.com.   Learn more about Opulent Nosh, follow @KenAlbala on Instagram and find his food groups on Facebook.   For more from Taste Buds, subscribe on iTunes and YouTube, and follow @TheDEBMethod on social media.

Ashkenazi Bowel Syndrome | Son of a Boy Dad #235 -- Ad: Get up to 55% off at https://Babbel.com/SON. -- Ad: For 10% off your order & FREE Shipping, head to https://JackBlack.com/BOYDAD and use code BOYDAD -- Ad: Head to https://DrinkCann.com and use code SON30 for 30% off your order of Cann and get free shipping. -- Follow us on our socials: https://linktr.ee/sonofaboydad -- Merch: https://store.barstoolsports.com/collections/son-of-a-boy-dad -- SUBSCRIBE TO THE YOUTUBE #SonOfABoyDad #BarstoolSportsYou can find every episode of this show on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or YouTube. Prime Members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. For more, visit barstool.link/sonofaboydad

“When we show the world that we're not what they say about us, that we're not white colonizers, that we're actually an indigenous tribe of people that was kicked out of their homeland . . .  the only argument I can think about to put against the story is ‘you're lying.' . . . If they accuse you of lying when you tell your family story, they lost.” Last week's episode featuring Adiel Cohen—Jewish activist, social media influencer, and Israel Defense Forces reservist—received heartfelt feedback. In part two of this conversation, Adiel joins us live from the AJC Global Forum 2024 in Washington, D.C., where listeners had the chance to ask their questions directly. Adiel discusses a plethora of topics, including his social media activism and how Israeli society today reflects the story of Jews returning to their ancestral homeland after over 2,000 years in the diaspora, refuting the false narrative that Jews are white settler colonialists.  If you haven't heard The Forgotten Exodus: Yemen: Live Recording with Adiel Cohen – Part 1, listen now.  —--- How much do you know about Jewish history in the Middle East? Take our short quiz! Sign up to receive podcast updates here. Learn more about the series here: The Forgotten Exodus: Yemen: Live Recording with Adiel Cohen – Part 1 The Forgotten Exodus: Yemen, with Israeli Olympian Shahar Tzubari Song credits:  Pond5:  “Desert Caravans”: Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI), Composer: Tiemur Zarobov (BMI), IPI#1098108837 “Meditative Middle Eastern Flute”: Publisher: N/A; Composer: DANIELYAN ASHOT MAKICHEVICH (IPI NAME #00855552512) “Suspense Middle East” Publisher: Victor Romanov, Composer: Victor Romanov; Item ID: 196056047 —-- Episode Transcript: Adiel Cohen:   When we show the world that we're not what they say about us, that we're not white colonizers, that we're actually an indigenous tribe of people that was kicked out of their homeland and spread throughout the diaspora for 2000 years . . . they can try to argue with that. But at the end of the day, the facts are on our side. Manya Brachear Pashman: The world has overlooked an important episode in modern history: the 800,000 Jews who left or were driven from their homes in the Middle East and North Africa in the mid-20th century. Welcome to the second season of The Forgotten Exodus, brought to you by American Jewish Committee. This series explores that pivotal moment in history and the little-known Jewish heritage of Iran and Arab nations. As Jews around the world confront violent antisemitism and Israelis face daily attacks by terrorists on multiple fronts, our second season explores how Jews have lived throughout the region for generations–despite hardship, hostility, and hatred–then sought safety and new possibilities in their ancestral homeland. I'm your host, Manya Brachear Pashman:. Join us as we explore untold family histories and personal stories of courage, perseverance, and resilience from this transformative period of history for the Jewish people and the Middle East.  The world has ignored these voices. We will not. This is The Forgotten Exodus.  There has been moving and frankly overwhelming feedback from listeners of our second season, especially last week's live interview with digital influencer Adiel Cohen: about his family's journey from Yemen. If you didn't listen last week, be sure to go back and tune in. Then you'll know why there's been such a demand to release the second part of that interview – a question and answer session.  Why are we sharing this? It's a sampling of the conversations these episodes have generated in homes across the nation and around the world, inspired by this series. What would you ask our guests? Here's what a handful asked Adiel when he joined us at AJC Global Forum 2024 in Washington D.C.  Today's episode: Leaving Yemen, Part 2.  Thank you for this conversation, Adiel. But now I'd like to turn to our audience and give them an opportunity to ask what's on their minds. If you have a question, please raise your hand, someone will bring you a microphone. Be sure to state your name, where you're from, and keeping with the spirit of the event, tell us where your family is from going back generations. Audience Member/Carole Weintraub: Hi, thank you for coming. My name is Carole Weintraub. I'm from Philadelphia. And depending on the week, my family was either from Poland, Ukraine, or Russia – the borders changed all the time.  Adiel Cohen:   Oh wow, ok. Carole Weintraub: Take your pick. My question's kind of a fun question. You mentioned some dishes that your grandmom would make. You gave us the names, but I never heard of them, and could you describe them? Adiel Cohen:   Yes. So the main food that we eat, I would say it's like the equivalent to matzo ball soup. That's like the default dish for holidays, for day-to-day. It's Yemenite soup. It's just called Yemenite soup. It's very simple. It's a soup made with a lot of spices, I think. Kumkum and hell. It can be vegetable, chicken, or beef based, with a side of either potato or pumpkin inside the soup. It's very good, very healthy. We eat it, especially in winter, every Shabbat. Like it cleans your entire system, all the spices.  Some breads that we have that are also very common. Lachuch or lachoh, you know, in the Yemenite pronunciation, it's a flatbread similar to pancake. It's kind of like a pancake, only fried on one side with holes, yeah. And the other side, the top side becomes full of bubbles that turn into holes. So it's fluffy, like very, very soft, very good to eat with dips or with soup.  We also have saluf, which is just a regular pita, it's a flatbread. Zalabiyeh, which is kind of like the, in Yemen they used to eat it during Shavuot and in Israel, now we eat it a lot in Hanukkah, because it's fried. It's kind of like a flatbread donut. I don't know how else to explain it. Right. It's kind of like sufganiyah but made flat, like a pita. There's so much more wow, I'm starting to salivate here. Manya Brachear Pashman:   If you don't mind me just interjecting with one of my own questions, and that is, do you encourage people to make these recipes, to try out different parts of your culture or do you feel a little bit of or maybe fear appropriation of your culture? Like what is… Adiel Cohen:   No, not at all. Go look up Yemenite soup recipe on Google. It's all there in English. And it's delicious. It's healthy. Do it, really. Manya Brachear Pashman:   Do you try other Jewish cultures in fact? Adiel Cohen:   Kubbeh must be one of my favorite foods that is not Yemenite. It's Iraqi-Jewish. My hometown, Ramat Gan, is the capital of Iraqi Jews and Israel. Every time I say that I'm from Ramat Gan, people ask me ‘Oh, you're Iraqi?' I'm like, no, no, Yemenite. So kubbeh, sabich. Sabich, that's the best food, I think, Israel has to offer. Also Iraqi Jewish.  I feel bad that I don't have anything good to say about Ashkenazi foods. I tried matzo ball soup for the first time. I'm sorry. My sister, she married an Ashkenazi Jew from Monsey – can't get any more Ashkenazi than that. And this was actually my first time trying and getting a taste of Ashkenazi culture and cuisine. Can't say that it, like, blew me off. Manya Brachear Pashman:   Alright, next question. Audience Member/Amy Albertson: Hi, Adiel.  Adiel Cohen:   Hi, Amy. Amy Albertson: My name is Amy Albertson. I personally am from California and my family's from Russia, Poland, and China. And my question for you is, as a fellow social media creator, especially during times like this, I get asked a lot about racism in Israel since Americans are obsessed with racism. And they always want to point out how the Teimanim, the Yemenites, the Ethiopians, the other what Americans like to say not white Jews are discriminated against and have been discriminated against since the establishment of Israel.  Obviously, we can't deny that there is racism. However, I would like to know your perspective obviously as a Yemenite Jew living in Israel and also the good and the bad, where you find that things are hopefully better than they were in the past in Israel, and also where you think that Israeli society still has to improve when it comes to things like this. Adiel Cohen:   So part of the cultural discourse in Israel, we always make fun of how every wave of aliyah, from every place in the world that Israel experienced, the last wave of aliyah discriminates against them or makes fun of them, because ‘oh, the new ones.' And in a sense, it is true, you see it a lot. And racism, unfortunately, exists in Israel, in Israeli society, just like in every society in the world. I think that if you compare it to how it was in the 50s, we're way better off now.  And racism is widely condemned, all throughout Israeli society, against anyone, against any communities. We still have the stereotypes, we still have, you know, these jokes that sometimes are funny, sometimes are less funny about different communities. I would say for the most part, we know how to maintain a healthy humor of kind of making fun of each other as different communities but also making it all part of what it means to be Israeli. When my grandparents came to Israel, they were discriminated against. They were ‘othered' by the rest of society that was mostly dominated by secular Ashkenazim.  The same thing can also be said on Holocaust survivors that first arrived in Israel and also faced discrimination from their brothers and sisters, who are also Ashkenazim. So I don't know if racism is the right word. I don't think there's a word that can describe this dynamic that we have between our communities. But yeah, I definitely can say that throughout the generations it's become way better. We see way more diverse representation in Israeli media, in Israeli pop culture. If you look at what's Israeli pop culture, it's majority Mizrahi, and a lot of Yemenites if I may add, because, you know, we know how to sing. Not me, though, unfortunately. But yeah, we see a lot more representation. I believe we're on the right path to become more united and to bridge between our differences and different communities. Audience Member/Alison Platt: Hi, I'm Alison Platt. I live in Chicago by way of Northern California. My family is from all over Europe, and then about 1500 years before that Southern Italy. So I lost my grandmother last week, so I really thank you, I really appreciate the importance of telling our grandparents' stories. So thank you for sharing yours with us. For those of us who are millennials or Gen Z who are for better or worse, very online, storytelling is important and telling our own personal Jewish stories, very important, telling our collective Jewish story, very important. So for someone who does that on social media, what is your advice for those of us who are really trying to educate both on a one-to-one level and then communally about our Jewish identities, what has been successful for you, what has been challenging and where do you see that going? Adiel Cohen:   So, you know, telling a story, you can tell a story with words, you can also tell a story with visuals. Some of the most successful videos that I made about Yemenite Jews involved my grandma cooking and my mom cooking, making lachuch and showing the Seder, the table, how beautiful and colorful it is. So don't be afraid to pull up your phone and just show it when you see it. And in terms of verbal stories, speak to your grandparents as much as you can. When my grandma passed away, I realized how it can happen like that, and then that's it. And there's no more stories from Savta around Shabbat table and what you managed to gather, that's what you're carrying on to the future. So collect as many stories as possible from every generation so that these stories can live on and exist. And just tell them on social media, open your camera, tell it to the world, because this is how they get to know us. Audience Member/Ioel: Hi, everyone. I'm Ioel from Italy. I'm the Vice President of the Italian Union of Young Jews. And part of my family comes from Egypt. So I relate to your storytelling.  Recently, I have attended the inaugural seminar of Archon Europe. It's an organization that's fostering heritage towards Europe. And we were wondering how to share our stories. So I want to ask you, what is the best thing for you to make the story of this sort of silent exodus known in the Western society, and especially in our university. And how do you think your activism is contributing to fight antisemitism? Adiel Cohen:   I think it's as simple as just taking the leap and start telling these stories. As I said, sit with your grandparents, with your parents and just talk about it. Write down notes and turn it into a story that can be told through social media, make videos about it. You know, Egyptian jewelry, if you look into it, there's so much there. There's the Genizah, right, the Cairo Genizah – so much knowledge and Jewish history, not only from Egypt, but from the entire Middle East.  You got accounts in the Cairo Genizah about how Jews lived in Israel, in the Land of Israel, under Muslim rule; stories that are not heard. When you expose the world and people on campus to these stories, first of all, you burst the little bubble that says Jews poofed in Israel in 1948 and up until then, they didn't exist there. And second of all, you show them that Jews existed, not just in Europe, but also in other parts of the world – in Egypt, and in the Middle East as well.  Your question was, how does my activism contribute? I hope to inspire more young Jews, Gen Z, millennials, to share their stories and get connected to them and understand the importance of sharing stories because you can enjoy listening to your grandparents stories, but then do nothing about it. So I hope that my content and then my activism inspires other Jews to speak up, just like I am inspired by other creators who also tell their stories. Manya Brachear Pashman:   And I think the other aspect of his question was about fighting antisemitism, whether or not you feel that sharing these stories helps in that effort. Adiel Cohen:   Definitely. Again, when we show the world that we're not what they say about us, that we're not white colonizers, that we're actually an indigenous tribe of people that was kicked out of their homeland and spread throughout the diaspora for 2000 years, they can try to argue with that. But at the end of the day, the facts are on our side, and also the importance of a story, you can't argue with a story.  If you're telling a story from your family, from your own personal experience, the only argument I can think about to put against the story is ‘you're lying.' And ‘you're lying' is not a good argument. If they accuse you of lying when you tell your family story, they lost. Audience Member/Daniel: Hi, my name is Daniel. I'm American-Israeli and my family background is I'm half Lithuanian and half Yemenite. I just wanna say I feel very and thoroughly inspired by you, and thank you so much for coming today.  Adiel Cohen: Thank you. Daniel: As a child, I was fortunate enough to hear stories from my grandparents and my great grandfather about their lives in Yemen. Recently, I read Maimonides' letter to Yemen Adiel Cohen: Beautiful. Daniel: And I was particularly inspired by the fact that it was originally written in Arabic and it was translated into Hebrew so that it could be properly disseminated in the community. It remains my favorite primary source regarding Yemen's Jewish community. But with 3000 years of history, almost, there's plenty to choose from. So what's your favorite text or book relating to Yemen's Jewish community? Adiel Cohen:   That. Iggeret Teiman, the letter of Maimonides to the Yemenite Jewish community is a transformative letter. It came in a time that was very, very tough for the Yemenite Jewish community. It was a time of false messiahs that started popping out of nowhere in Yemen, both in the Muslim community but also in the Jewish community. And a false messiah that pops out of nowhere creates civil unrest. It sounds a little weird and otherworldly in the world that we live in now, but when someone pops out of nowhere and says, I'm the Messiah. I'm coming to save you all, and back at the time, it was revolutionary.  And there was a lot of troubles that the Jews faced at the time because of the false messiahs. The Yemeni leadership was very hostile to Jews, just like, every time there's problems in society, who gets blamed? The Jews, for different reasons, and that time was the reason that Jews were blamed. That was the reason Jews were blamed for.  And out of Egypt, Rambam comes. He did not set foot in his life in Yemen. But the head of the Yemenite Jewish community sent him a letter all the way to Egypt. He was in Egypt at the time after migrating all the way from Spain to Morocco to Egypt, asking him for help. And he sent him this letter, Rambam sent him back this letter, Iggeret Teiman, where he basically empowers and strengthens the Jewish community, telling them to maintain their faith and do not fall for the false messiahs and keep their faith in Hashem, and they will be saved.  It was as simple as that to save the Jewish community who was suffering at the time, and ever since then, Jews adopted, not fully, but adopted a lot of the Rambam's Mishnah, his ideas. And till this day, the Rambam is the most notable figure that Yemenite Jews look up to. He did not set foot in Yemen one time.  The Jews did not go to Egypt and sought for help, but it shows you why it's my favorite text in our history. It's because it shows that even in the diaspora, even when, you know, we were seemingly disconnected, we always relied on each other. And it's amazing to think about it, how a letter got to Egypt, sent back, and he saved a community from all the way far over there. So yeah, that's the answer. Manya Brachear Pashman:   So I think we are out of time. Thank you for all those thoughtful questions. That was really wonderful. And thank you for being such a lovely audience. And thank you, Adiel. Adiel Cohen: Thank you. Manya Brachear Pashman:   For joining us and sharing your family's story and hopefully inspiring some of us to do the same. So thank you. Adiel Cohen:   I hope so. Thank you so much. Manya Brachear Pashman:   Yemenite Jews are just one of the many Jewish communities who, in the last century, left Arab countries to forge new lives for themselves and future generations.  Join us next week as we share another untold story of The Forgotten Exodus. Many thanks to Adiel for sharing his story. Too many times during my reporting, I encountered children and grandchildren who didn't have the answers to my questions because they'd never asked. That's why one of the goals of this project is to encourage you to ask those questions. Find your stories. Atara Lakritz is our producer. T.K. Broderick is our sound engineer. Special thanks to Jon Schweitzer, Nicole Mazur, Sean Savage, and Madeleine Stern, and so many of our colleagues, too many to name really, for making this series possible.  You can subscribe to The Forgotten Exodus on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you listen to podcasts, and you can learn more at AJC.org/theforgottenexodus.  The views and opinions of our guests don't necessarily reflect the positions of AJC.  You can reach us at theforgottenexodus@ajc.org. If you've enjoyed this episode, please be sure to spread the word, and hop onto Apple Podcasts or Spotify to rate us and write a review to help more listeners find us.

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The Shulhan Aruch (Siman 8) states that one should wear his Tallit Katan over his garments. The Torah explicitly required: "U'r'eetem Oto" (and you shall see the Sisit); hiding them under the clothes would seemingly defeat the entire purpose of the Misva. The Hafetz Haim (Rav Yisrael Meir Kagan of Radin, 1839-1933) in his Mishna Berura gives a stinging rebuke to those who are embarrassed by this Misva and wear their Sisit under their garments. He says that it is analogous to someone who received the royal seal from the king to wear proudly, but is ashamed and wears it under cover. He adds that such people are destined to give an accounting for their behavior. Today, the Hasidim do in fact wear their Sisit over their garments. However, Rabbi Bitan, in his English version of Yalkut Yosef cites testimony that the Hafetz Haim himself wore his Sisit inside, as did his grandson Rav Hillel Zacks. This was also the custom of the Lithuanian Rosh Yeshivas. The source for their practice is Rabbenu HaAri (Rav Yishak Luria of Safed, 1534-1572) and Rabbenu HaRashash, who had a different understanding of the Pasuk. They explain that when the Torah said to "see the Sisit," it only meant when you put them on, and not to have them constantly in view. On the contrary, they rule that it is preferable to keep the Sisit inside. The Hafetz Haim was only criticizing those who put the Sisit inside out of embarrassment; we wear it inside because we follow the tradition of the Arizal. In addition, we all wear a Tallit Gadol, which satisfies the requirement for an outward display of the Misva, whereas in the times of the Hafetz Haim, only married men wore the Tallit Gadol. Therefore, if an unmarried man would put his Tallit Katan under his garments, he would never have any outward display of Sisit. In light of this, no one should feel that they are in "contempt" of the Hafetz Haim by wearing his Tallit Katan under his garment. The custom of Sepharadim is to not only wear the Tallit Katan under the garments, but to keep the Sisit inside the pants, as well. If a Sepharadi wants to follow the Ashkenazi custom of wearing the strings out, he may do so only under one of the following two conditions: One, If he studies in an Ashkenazi Yeshiva and doesn't want to stand out. Second, if a person wants to inspire and strengthen himself by wearing the Sisit out, as part of the Teshuva process, he may do so. In both cases, once the special circumstance no longer applies, he must revert to the Sepharadic custom. Harav Ezra Attiah ZT"L, Rosh Yeshivat Porat Yosef, said that if a Sepharadi wears his Sisit out, in principle, just because he wants to adopt the Ashkenazi custom, he is casting aspersions on the great Sadikim and Hachamim of previous generations who wore their Sisit inside. Is he any better than the Kaf Hahaim or the Ben Ish Hai? SUMMARY A Sepharadi should wear his Tallit Katan and its Sisit under his garments.

Listen to the premiere episode of the second season of The Forgotten Exodus, the multi-award-winning, chart-topping, and first-ever narrative podcast series to focus exclusively on Mizrahi and Sephardic Jews. This week's episode focuses on Jews from Tunisia. If you like what you hear, subscribe before the next episode drops on September 3. “In the Israeli DNA and the Jewish DNA, we have to fight to be who we are. In every generation, empires and big forces tried to erase us . . . I know what it is to be rejected for several parts of my identity... I'm fighting for my ancestors, but I'm also fighting for our future generation.”  Hen Mazzig, a writer, digital creator, and founder of the Tel Aviv Institute, shares his powerful journey as a proud Israeli, LGBTQ+, and Mizrahi Jew, in the premiere episode of the second season of the award-winning podcast, The Forgotten Exodus. Hen delves into his family's deep roots in Tunisia, their harrowing experiences during the Nazi occupation, and their eventual escape to Israel. Discover the rich history of Tunisia's ancient Amazigh Jewish community, the impact of French colonial and Arab nationalist movements on Jews in North Africa, and the cultural identity that Hen passionately preserves today. Joining the conversation is historian Lucette Valensi, an expert on Tunisian Jewish culture, who provides scholarly insights into the longstanding presence of Jews in Tunisia, from antiquity to their exodus in the mid-20th century. ___ Show notes: Sign up to receive podcast updates here. Learn more about the series here. Song credits:  "Penceresi Yola Karsi" -- by Turku, Nomads of the Silk Road Pond5:  “Desert Caravans”: Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI), Composer: Tiemur Zarobov (BMI), IPI#1098108837 “Sentimental Oud Middle Eastern”: Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI), Composer: Sotirios Bakas (BMI), IPI#797324989. “Meditative Middle Eastern Flute”: Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI), Composer: Danielyan Ashot Makichevich (BMI), IPI Name #00855552512, United States BMI “Tunisia Eastern”: Publisher: Edi Surya Nurrohim, Composer: Edi Surya Nurrohim, Item ID#155836469. “At The Rabbi's Table”: Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI), Composer: Fazio Giulio (IPI/CAE# 00198377019). “Fields Of Elysium”; Publisher: Mysterylab Music; Composer: Mott Jordan; ID#79549862  “Frontiers”: Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI); Composer: Pete Checkley (BMI), IPI#380407375 “Hatikvah (National Anthem Of Israel)”; Composer: Eli Sibony; ID#122561081 “Tunisian Pot Dance (Short)”: Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI); Composer: kesokid, ID #97451515 “Middle East Ident”; Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Alpha (ASCAP); Composer: Alon Marcus (ACUM), IPI#776550702 “Adventures in the East”: Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI) Composer: Petar Milinkovic (BMI), IPI#00738313833. ___ Episode Transcript: HEN MAZZIG: They took whatever they had left and they got on a boat. And my grandmother told me this story before she passed away on how they were on this boat coming to Israel.  And they were so happy, and they were crying because they felt that finally after generations upon generations of oppression they are going to come to a place where they are going to be protected, and that she was coming home. MANYA BRACHEAR PASHMAN: The world has overlooked an important episode in modern history: the 800,000 Jews who left or were driven from their homes in the Middle East and North Africa in the mid-20th century. Welcome to the second season of The Forgotten Exodus, brought to you by American Jewish Committee. This series explores that pivotal moment in history and the little-known Jewish heritage of Iran and Arab nations. As Jews around the world confront violent antisemitism and Israelis face daily attacks by terrorists on multiple fronts, our second season explores how Jews have lived throughout the region for generations–despite hardship, hostility, and hatred–then sought safety and new possibilities in their ancestral homeland. I'm your host, Manya Brachear Pashman. Join us as we explore untold family histories and personal stories of courage, perseverance, and resilience from this transformative and tumultuous period of history for the Jewish people and the Middle East.  The world has ignored these voices. We will not. This is The Forgotten Exodus.  Today's episode: leaving Tunisia. __ [Tel Aviv Pride video] MANYA BRACHEAR PASHMAN: Every June, Hen Mazzig, who splits his time between London and Tel Aviv, heads to Israel to show his Pride. His Israeli pride. His LGBTQ+ pride. And his Mizrahi Jewish pride. For that one week, all of those identities coalesce.  And while other cities around the world have transformed Pride into a June version of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, Israel is home to one of the few vibrant LGBTQ communities in the Middle East. Tel Aviv keeps it real. HEN: For me, Pride in Israel, in Tel Aviv, it still has this element of fighting for something. And that it's important for all of us to show up and to come out to the Pride Parade because if we're not going to be there, there's some people with agendas to erase us and we can't let them do it. MANYA: This year, the Tel Aviv Pride rally was a more somber affair as participants demanded freedom for the more than 100 hostages still held in Gaza since October 7th.  On that day, Hamas terrorists bent on erasing Jews from the Middle East went on a murderous rampage, killing more than 1,200, kidnapping 250 others, and unleashing what has become a 7-front war on Israel. HEN: In the Israeli DNA and the Jewish DNA we have to fight to be who we are. In every generation, empires and big forces tried to erase us, and we had to fight. And the LGBTQ+ community also knows very well how hard it is. I know what it is to be rejected for several parts of my identity. And I don't want anyone to go through that. I don't want my children to go through that. I'm fighting for my ancestors, but I'm also fighting for our future generation. MANYA: Hen Mazzig is an international speaker, writer, and digital influencer. In 2022, he founded the Tel Aviv Institute, a social media laboratory that tackles antisemitism online. He's also a second-generation Israeli, whose maternal grandparents fled Iraq, while his father's parents fled Tunisia – roots that echo in the family name: Mazzig. HEN: The last name Mazzig never made sense, because in Israel a lot of the last names have meaning in Hebrew.  So I remember one of my teachers in school was saying that Mazzig sounds like mozeg, which means pouring in Hebrew. Maybe your ancestors were running a bar or something? Clearly, this teacher did not have knowledge of the Amazigh people. Which, later on I learned, several of those tribes, those Amazigh tribes, were Jewish or practiced Judaism, and that there was 5,000 Jews that came from Tunisia that were holding both identities of being Jewish and Amazigh.  And today, they have last names like Mazzig, and Amzaleg, Mizzoug. There's several of those last names in Israel today. And they are the descendants of those Jewish communities that have lived in the Atlas Mountains. MANYA: The Atlas Mountains. A 1,500-mile chain of magnificent peaks and treacherous terrain that stretch across Algeria, Morocco, and Tunisia, separating the Sahara from the Mediterranean and Atlantic coastline.  It's where the nomadic Amazigh have called home for thousands of years. The Amazigh trace their origins to at least 2,000 BCE  in western North Africa. They speak the language of Tamazight and rely on cattle and agriculture as their main sources of income.  But textiles too. In fact, you've probably heard of the Amazigh or own a rug woven by them. A Berber rug. HEN: Amazigh, which are also called Berbers. But they're rejecting this term because of the association with barbarians, which was the title that European colonialists when they came to North Africa gave them. There's beautiful folklore about Jewish leaders within the Amazigh people. One story that I really connected to was the story of Queen Dihya that was also known as El-Kahina, which in Arabic means the Kohen, the priest, and she was known as this leader of the Amazigh tribes, and she was Jewish.  Her derrogaters were calling her a Jewish witch, because they said that she had the power to foresee the future. And her roots were apparently connected to Queen Sheba and her arrival from Israel back to Africa. And she was the descendant of Queen Sheba. And that's how she led the Amazigh people.  And the stories that I read about her, I just felt so connected. How she had this long, black, curly hair that went all the way down to her knees, and she was fierce, and she was very committed to her identity, and she was fighting against the Islamic expansion to North Africa.  And when she failed, after years of holding them off, she realized that she can't do it anymore and she's going to lose. And she was not willing to give up her Jewish identity and convert to Islam and instead she jumped into a well and died. This well is known today in Tunisia. It's the [Bir] Al-Kahina or Dihya's Well that is still in existence. Her descendants, her kids, were Jewish members of the Amazigh people.  Of course, I would like to believe that I am the descendant of royalty. MANYA: Scholars debate whether the Amazigh converted to Judaism or descended from Queen Dihya and stayed.  Lucette Valensi is a French scholar of Tunisian history who served as a director of studies at the School for Advanced Studies in the Social Sciences in Paris, one of the most prestigious institutions of graduate education in France. She has written extensively about Tunisian Jewish culture.   Generations of her family lived in Tunisia. She says archaeological evidence proves Jews were living in that land since Antiquity. LUCETTE VALENSI: I myself am a Chemla, born Chemla. And this is an Arabic name, which means a kind of belt. And my mother's name was Tartour, which is a turban [laugh]. So the names were Arabic. So my ancestors spoke Arabic. I don't know if any of them spoke Berber before, or Latin. I have no idea. But there were Jews in antiquity and of course, through Saint Augustin. MANYA: So when did Jews arrive in Tunisia? LUCETTE: [laugh] That's a strange question because they were there since Antiquity. We have evidence of their presence in mosaics of synagogues, from the times of Byzantium. I think we think in terms of a short chronology, and they would tend to associate the Jews to colonization, which does not make sense, they were there much before French colonization. They were there for millennia. MANYA: Valensi says Jews lived in Tunisia dating to the time of Carthage, an ancient city-state in what is now Tunisia, that reached its peak in the fourth century BCE. Later, under Roman and then Byzantine rule, Carthage continued to play a vital role as a center of commerce and trade during antiquity.  Besides the role of tax collectors, Jews were forbidden to serve in almost all public offices. Between the 5th and 8th centuries CE, conditions fluctuated between relief and forced conversions while under Christian rule.  After the Islamic conquest of Tunisia in the seventh and early eighth centuries CE, the treatment of Jews largely depended on which Muslim ruler was in charge at the time.  Some Jews converted to Islam while others lived as dhimmis, or second-class citizens, protected by the state in exchange for a special tax known as the jizya. In 1146, the first caliph of the Almohad dynasty, declared that the Prophet Muhammad had granted Jews religious freedom for only 500 years, by which time if the messiah had not come, they had to convert.  Those who did not convert and even those who did were forced to wear yellow turbans or other special garb called shikra, to distinguish them from Muslims. An influx of Jews expelled from Spain and Portugal arrived in the 14th Century. In the 16th Century, Tunisia became part of the Ottoman Empire, and the situation of Jews improved significantly. Another group who had settled in the coastal Tuscan city of Livorno crossed the Mediterranean in the 17th and 18th centuries to make Tunisia their home. LUCETTE: There were other groups that came, Jews from Italy, Jews from Spain, of course, Spain and Portugal, different periods. 14th century already from Spain and then from Spain and Portugal. From Italy, from Livorno, that's later, but the Jews from Livorno themselves came from Spain.  So I myself am named Valensi. From Valencia. It was the family name of my first husband. So from Valencia in Spain they went to Livorno, and from Livorno–Leghorn in English–to Tunisia. MANYA: At its peak, Tunisia's Jewish population exceeded 100,000 – a combination of Sephardi and Mizrahi. HEN: When we speak about Jews from the Middle East and North Africa, specifically in the West, or mainly in the West, we're referring to them as Sephardi. But in Tunisia, it's very interesting to see that there was the Grana community which are Livorno Jews that moved to Tunisia in the 1800s, and they brought the Sephardi way of praying.  And that's why I always use the term Mizrahi to describe myself, because I feel like it encapsulates more of my identity. And for me, the Sephardi title that we often use on those communities doesn't feel accurate to me, and it also has the connection to Ladino, which my grandparents never spoke.  They spoke Tamazight, Judeo-Tamazight, which was the language of those tribes in North Africa. And my family from my mother's side, from Iraq, they were speaking Judeo-Iraqi-Arabic.  So for me, the term Sephardi just doesn't cut it. I go with Mizrahi to describe myself. MANYA: The terms Ashkenazi, Sephardi, and Mizrahi all refer to the places Jews once called home.  Ashkenazi Jews hail from Central and Eastern Europe, particularly Germany, Poland, and Russia. They traditionally speak Yiddish, and their customs and practices reflect the influences of Central and Eastern European cultures.  Pogroms in Eastern Europe and the Holocaust led many Ashkenazi Jews to flee their longtime homes to countries like the United States and their ancestral homeland, Israel.  Mizrahi, which means “Eastern” in Hebrew, refers to the diaspora of descendants of Jewish communities from Middle Eastern countries such as: Iraq, Iran, and Yemen, and North African countries such as: Tunisia, Libya, and Morocco. Ancient Jewish communities that have lived in the region for millennia long before the advent of Islam and Christianity. They often speak dialects of Arabic. Sephardi Jews originate from Spain and Portugal, speaking Ladino and incorporating Spanish and Portuguese cultural influences. Following their expulsion from the Iberian Peninsula in 1492, they settled in regions like North Africa and the Balkans. In Tunisia, the Mizrahi and Sephardi communities lived side by side, but separately. HEN: As time passed, those communities became closer together, still quite separated, but they became closer and closer. And perhaps the reason they were becoming closer was because of the hardship that they faced as Jews.  For the leaders of Muslim armies that came to Tunisia, it didn't matter if you were a Sephardi Jew, or if you were an Amazigh Jew. You were a Jew for them. MANYA: Algeria's invasion of Tunisia in the 18th century had a disproportionate effect on Tunisia's Jewish community. The Algerian army killed thousands of the citizens of Tunis, many of whom were Jewish. Algerians raped Jewish women, looted Jewish homes. LUCETTE: There were moments of trouble when you had an invasion of the Algerian army to impose a prince. The Jews were molested in Tunis. MANYA: After a military invasion, a French protectorate was established in 1881 and lasted until Tunisia gained independence in 1956. The Jews of Tunisia felt much safer under the French protectorate.  They put a lot of stock in the French revolutionary promise of Liberté, égalité, fraternité. Soon, the French language replaced Judeo-Arabic. LUCETTE: Well, under colonization, the Jews were in a better position. First, the school system. They went to modern schools, especially the Alliance [Israélite Universelle] schools, and with that started a form of Westernization.  You had also schools in Italian, created by Italian Jews, and some Tunisian Jews went to these schools and already in the 19th century, there was a form of acculturation and Westernization.  Access to newspapers, creation of newspapers. In the 1880s Jews had already their own newspapers in Hebrew characters, but Arabic language.  And my grandfather was one of the early journalists and they started having their own press and published books, folklore, sort of short stories. MANYA: In May 1940, Nazi Germany invaded France and quickly overran the French Third Republic, forcing the French to sign an armistice agreement in June. The armistice significantly reduced the territory governed by France and created a new government known as the Vichy regime, after the central French city where it was based.  The Vichy regime collaborated with the Nazis, establishing a special administration to introduce anti-Jewish legislation and enforce a compulsory Jewish census in all of its territories including Tunisia. Hen grew up learning about the Holocaust, the Nazis' attempt to erase the Jewish people. As part of his schooling, he learned the names of concentration and death camps and he heard the stories from his friends' grandparents.  But because he was not Ashkenazi, because his grandparents didn't suffer through the same catastrophe that befell Europe, Hen never felt fully accepted.  It was a trauma that belonged to his Ashkenazi friends of German and Polish descent, not to him. Or so they thought and so he thought, until he was a teenager and asked his grandmother Kamisa to finally share their family's journey from Tunisia. That's when he learned that the Mazzig family had not been exempt from Hitler's hatred. In November 1942, Tunisia became the only North African country to come under Nazi Germany's occupation and the Nazis wasted no time. Jewish property was confiscated, and heavy fines were levied on large Jewish communities. With the presence of the Einsatzkommando, a subgroup of the Einsatzgruppen, or mobile killing units, the Nazis were prepared to implement the systematic murder of the Jews of Tunisia. The tide of the war turned just in time to prevent that. LUCETTE: At the time the Germans came, they did not control the Mediterranean, and so they could not export us to the camps. We were saved by that. Lanor camps for men in dangerous places where there were bombs by the Allies. But not for us, it was, I mean, they took our radios. They took the silverware or they took money, this kind of oppression, but they did not murder us.  They took the men away, a few families were directly impacted and died in the camps. A few men. So we were afraid. We were occupied. But compared to what Jews in Europe were subjected to, we didn't suffer.  MANYA: Almost 5,000 Jews, most of them from Tunis and from certain northern communities, were taken captive and incarcerated in 32 labor camps scattered throughout Tunisia. Jews were not only required to wear yellow stars, but those in the camps were also required to wear them on their backs so they could be identified from a distance and shot in the event they tried to escape. HEN: My grandmother never told me until before she died, when she was more open about the stories of oppression, on how she was serving food for the French Nazi officers that were occupying Tunisia, or how my grandfather was in a labor camp, and he was supposed to be sent to a death camp in Europe as well. They never felt like they should share these stories. MANYA: The capture of Tunisia by the Allied forces in May 1943 led the Axis forces in North Africa to surrender. But the country remained under French colonial rule and the antisemitic legislation of the Vichy regime continued until 1944. Many of the Vichy camps, including forced labor camps in the Sahara, continued to operate.  Even after the decline and fall of the Vichy regime and the pursuit of independence from French rule began, conditions for the Mazzig family and many others in the Tunisian Jewish community did not improve.  But the source of much of the hostility and strife was actually a beacon of hope for Tunisia's Jews. On May 14, 1948, the world had witnessed the creation of the state of Israel, sparking outrage throughout the Arab world. Seven Arab nations declared war on Israel the day after it declared independence.  Amid the rise of Tunisian nationalism and its push for independence from France, Jewish communities who had lived in Tunisia for centuries became targets. Guilty by association. No longer welcome. Rabbinical councils were dismantled. Jewish sports associations banned. Jews practiced their religion in hiding. Hen's grandfather recounted violence in the Jewish quarter of Tunis.  HEN: When World War Two was over, the Jewish community in Tunisia was hoping that now that Tunisia would have emancipation, and it would become a country, that their neighbors and the country itself would protect them. Because when it was Nazis, they knew that it was a foreign power that came from France and oppressed them. They knew that there was some hatred in the past, from their Muslim neighbors towards them.  But they also were hoping that, if anything, they would go back to the same status of a dhimmi, of being a protected minority. Even if they were not going to be fully accepted and celebrated in this society, at least they would be protected, for paying tax. And this really did not happen. MANYA: By the early 1950s, life for the Mazzig family became untenable. By then, American Jewish organizations based in Tunis started working to take Jews to Israel right away.  HEN: [My family decided to leave.] They took whatever they had left. And they got on a boat. And my grandmother told me this story before she passed away on how they were on this boat coming to Israel.  And they were so happy, and they were crying because they felt that finally after generations upon generations of oppression of living as a minority that knows that anytime the ruler might turn on them and take everything they have and pull the ground underneath their feet, they are going to come to a place where they are going to be protected. And maybe they will face hate, but no one will hate them because they're Jewish.  And I often dream about my grandmother being a young girl on this boat and how she must have felt to know that the nightmare and the hell that she went through is behind her and that she was coming home. MANYA: The boat they sailed to Israel took days. When Hen's uncle, just a young child at the time, got sick, the captain threatened to throw him overboard. Hen's grandmother hid the child inside her clothes until they docked in Israel. When they arrived, they were sprayed with DDT to kill any lice or disease, then placed in ma'abarot, which in Hebrew means transit camps. In this case, it was a tent with one bed. HEN: They were really mistreated back then. And it's not criticism. I mean, yes, it is also criticism, but it's not without understanding the context. That it was a young country that just started, and those Jewish communities, Jewish refugees came from Tunisia, they didn't speak Hebrew. They didn't look like the other Jewish communities there. And while they all had this in common, that they were all Jews, they had a very different experience. MANYA: No, the family's arrival in the Holy Land was nothing like what they had imagined. But even still, it was a dream fulfilled and there was hope, which they had lost in Tunisia. HEN: I think that it was somewhere in between having both this deep connection to Israel and going there because they wanted to, and also knowing that there's no future in Tunisia. And the truth is that even–and I'm sure people that are listening to us, that are strong Zionists and love Israel, if you tell them ‘OK, so move tomorrow,' no matter how much you love Israel, it's a very difficult decision to make.  Unless it's not really a decision. And I think for them, it wasn't really a decision. And they went through so much, they knew, OK, we have to leave and I think for the first time having a country, having Israel was the hope that they had for centuries to go back home, finally realized. MANYA: Valensi's family did stay a while longer. When Tunisia declared independence in 1956, her father, a ceramicist, designed tiles for the residence of President Habib Bourguiba. Those good relations did not last.  Valensi studied history in France, married an engineer, and returned to Tunisia. But after being there for five years, it became clear that Jews were not treated equally and they returned to France in 1965. LUCETTE: I did not plan to emigrate. And then it became more and more obvious that some people were more equal than others [laugh]. And so there was this nationalist mood where responsibilities were given to Muslims rather than Jews and I felt more and more segregated.  And so, my husband was an engineer from a good engineering school. Again, I mean, he worked for another engineer, who was a Muslim. We knew he would never reach the same position. His father was a lawyer. And in the tribunal, he had to use Arabic. And so all these things accumulated, and we were displaced. MANYA: Valensi said Jewish emigration from Tunisia accelerated at two more mileposts. Even after Tunisia declared independence, France maintained a presence and a naval base in the port city of Bizerte, a strategic port on the Mediterranean for the French who were fighting with Algeria.  In 1961, Tunisian forces blockaded the naval base and warned France to stay out of its airspace. What became known as the Bizerte Crisis lasted for three days. LUCETTE: There were critical times, like what we call “La Crise de Bizerte.” Bizerte is a port to the west of Tunis that used to be a military port and when independence was negotiated with France, the French kept this port, where they could keep an army, and Bourguiba decided that he wanted this port back. And there was a war, a conflict, between Tunisia and France in ‘61.  And that crisis was one moment when Jews thought: if there is no French presence to protect us, then anything could happen. You had the movement of emigration.  Of course, much later, ‘67, the unrest in the Middle East, and what happened there provoked a kind of panic, and there were movements against the Jews in Tunis – violence and destruction of shops, etc. So they emigrated again. Now you have only a few hundred Jews left. MANYA: Valensi's first husband died at an early age. Her second husband, Abraham Udovitch, is the former chair of Near Eastern Studies at Princeton University. Together, they researched and published a book about the Jewish communities in the Tunisian island of Djerba. The couple now splits their time between Paris and Princeton. But Valensi returns to Tunisia every year. It's still home. LUCETTE: When I go, strange thing, I feel at home. I mean, I feel I belong. My Arabic comes back. The words that I thought I had forgotten come back. They welcome you. I mean, if you go, you say you come from America, they're going to ask you questions. Are you Jewish? Did you go to Israel? I mean, these kind of very brutal questions, right away. They're going there. The taxi driver won't hesitate to ask you: Are you Jewish? But at the same time, they're very welcoming. So, I have no trouble. MANYA: Hen, on the other hand, has never been to the land of his ancestors. He holds on to his grandparents' trauma. And fear.  HEN: Tunisia just still feels a bit unsafe to me. Just as recent as a couple of months ago, there was a terror attack. So it's something that's still occurring.  MANYA: Just last year, a member of the Tunisian National Guard opened fire on worshippers outside El Ghriba Synagogue where a large gathering of Jewish pilgrims were celebrating the festival of Lag BaOmer. The synagogue is located on the Tunisian island of Djerba where Valensi and her husband did research for their book. Earlier this year, a mob attacked an abandoned synagogue in the southern city of Sfax, setting fire to the building's courtyard. Numbering over 100,000 Jews on the eve of Israel's Independence in 1948, the Tunisian Jewish community is now estimated to be less than 1,000.  There has been limited contact over the years between Tunisia and Israel. Some Israeli tourists, mostly of Tunisian origin, annually visit the El Ghriba synagogue in Djerba. But the government has largely been hostile to the Jewish state.  In the wake of the October 7 attack, the Tunisian parliament began debate on a law that would criminalize any normalization of ties with Israel. Still, Hen would like to go just once to see where his grandparents lived. Walked. Cooked. Prayed.  But to him it's just geography, an arbitrary place on a map. The memories, the music, the recipes, the traditions. It's no longer in Tunisia. It's elsewhere now – in the only country that preserved it. HEN: The Jewish Tunisian culture, the only place that it's been maintained is in Israel. That's why it's still alive. Like in Tunisia, it's not really celebrated. It's not something that they keep as much as they keep here.  Like if you want to go to a proper Mimouna, you would probably need to go to Israel, not to North Africa, although that's where it started. And the same with the Middle Eastern Jewish cuisine. The only place in the world, where be it Tunisian Jews and Iraqi Jews, or Yemenite Jews, still develop their recipes, is in Israel.  Israel is home, and this is where we still celebrate our culture and our cuisine and our identity is still something that I can engage with here.  I always feel like I am living the dreams of my grandparents, and I know that my grandmother is looking from above and I know how proud she is that we have a country, that we have a place to be safe at.  And that everything I do today is to protect my people, to protect the Jewish people, and making sure that next time when a country, when an empire, when a power would turn on Jews we'll have a place to go to and be safe. MANYA: Tunisian Jews are just one of the many Jewish communities who, in the last century, left Arab countries to forge new lives for themselves and future generations.  Join us next week as we share another untold story of The Forgotten Exodus. Many thanks to Hen for sharing his story. You can read more in his memoir The Wrong Kind of Jew: A Mizrahi Manifesto. Too many times during my reporting, I encountered children and grandchildren who didn't have the answers to my questions because they'd never asked. That's why one of the goals of this project is to encourage you to ask those questions. Find your stories. Atara Lakritz is our producer. T.K. Broderick is our sound engineer. Special thanks to Jon Schweitzer, Nicole Mazur, Sean Savage, and Madeleine Stern, and so many of our colleagues, too many to name really, for making this series possible.  You can subscribe to The Forgotten Exodus on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you listen to podcasts, and you can learn more at AJC.org/theforgottenexodus.  The views and opinions of our guests don't necessarily reflect the positions of AJC.  You can reach us at theforgottenexodus@ajc.org. If you've enjoyed this episode, please be sure to spread the word, and hop onto Apple Podcasts or Spotify to rate us and write a review to help more listeners find us.