Jewish History

The history of the Ukrainian Jewish community goes back over 1,000 years. Located in the Pale of Settlement, a territory at the western edge of the Russian empire where Jews were forced to live beginning in the late 18th century, the country was once home to over 1 million Jews and was among the largest Jewish communities in Europe on the eve of the Holocaust. The country has played a significant role in Ashkenazi Jewish history as the birthplace of the Hasidic movement and a major locus of Yiddish culture prior to the Holocaust. The Baal Shem Tov (the founder of Hasidism), Yiddish playwright Sholem Aleichem, Marxist theorist Leon Trotsky, Soviet dissident Natan Sharansky, and Israeli prime ministers Levi Eshkol and Golda Meir were all born in Ukraine. And for centuries Jews thrived there, despite repeated episodes of antisemitic violence that culminated in the Holocaust, which saw an estimated 1.5 million killed in that region alone and many more displaced.

Early History

The Jewish presence in Ukraine can be firmly dated to as early as the ninth century, but there’s reason to think it may go back even farther. The Khazars, a Turkic people who established a trading empire in southern Ukraine in the sixth century, are believed to have converted to Judaism in the eighth century, but the extent of this is unclear.

The Jewish presence in Kyiv can be firmly established by the 10th century. Sources in the Cairo Geniza note a Jewish presence in the city as early as 930. By the 12th century, historical documents mention a “Gate of the Jews” in the city and a well-known talmudist, Moses of Kiev. At various points, the Jewish community was prosperous, active in trade and in the arenda system, in which large rented estates were used for agricultural purposes. In a pattern not unfamiliar in Jewish history, economic success made Jews ready targets for violent antisemitism.


Jews flourished in Ukraine in the early modern period, becoming one of the country’s most significant ethnic minorities. Among the most prominent Jews of this time were the Brodsky brothers, Lazar and Lev, who grew wealthy in the sugar industry and helped finance a Jewish hospital, synagogue and trade school in the 19th century. Much of the Jewish population was clustered in the major cities, but many also lived in innumerable shtetls, tiny villages that dotted the countryside. Antisemitic violence was commonplace. The Jewish community of Kyiv suffered from multiple expulsions — in the late 15th century and again in the 17th. In both cases, the community was able to reestablish itself. In 1648, tens of thousands of Ukrainian Jews were massacred and hundreds of Jewish communities destroyed by Cossack bands led by Bogdan Chmielnicki, a tragedy that helped lay the groundwork for the embrace of the false messiah Shabbetai Zevi.

It would not be the last time the Jews of Ukraine were targeted for mass murder. In 1768, thousands of Jews were killed in Uman, a Ukrainian town that would later become synonymous with the Breslov Hasidic movement, whose founder, Rebbe Nachman of Breslov, is buried there. The 1821 pogrom against the Jews of Odessa is considered the first in the modern period. It was followed by similar attacks against Jews in the city in 1859, 1871, 1881 and 1905. In the wake of World War I, an estimated 50,000-100,000 Ukrainian Jews were killed in pogroms in the course of a few years.

Rise of Hasidism and Yiddish culture

It may be in part because of the widespread suffering among Ukrainian Jews that the country became fertile ground for spiritual, cultural and political innovation. Among the most significant and lasting of these developments was the Hasidic movement, whose founder, Rabbi Israel ben Eliezer — better known as the Baal Shem Tov (literally “master of the good name”) — was born in a small village in Ukraine around 1700, as were many of his disciples. The Baal Shem Tov established his court in Medzhybizh, in western Ukraine, where he is buried. The town was then a major Jewish center and many prominent Hasidic rabbis were born there, including Rebbe Nachman. From Medzhybizh, Hasidism spread to other Ukrainian towns, including Mezritch, Chernobyl, Belz and Uman — and from there to the rest of Eastern Europe.



(full article online)


 
Based in Waltham, Massachusetts, the National Center for Jewish Film was started in 1976 by Rivo’s mother, Sharon Pucker Rivo, who had acquired and restored 30 Yiddish films. Yiddish cinema — which included shund films but also higher quality, more artistic films — saw its height in the interwar period between the 1920s and early 1940s when about 130 films were made, mostly in Poland and the United States. Before the NCJF, the era of Yiddish film was relatively forgotten — a “lost chapter of cinema history,” according to Rivo.

“Without her having brought together all of these different Yiddish films, there would be no understanding of something called ‘Yiddish cinema,’” Rivo said of her mother. “By aggregating the films and by putting them back together, restoring them, and making them available for screenings like this one… I think she really changed the course of Jewish history and also cinema history.”

As for shund films in particular, audiences also loved them because “most of these were about daily life and the struggles of that population,” Goldman explained. Such films often centered, like “Mothers of Today,” on the role of Jewish women in the home and in immigrant communities.

“They depict a people that are suspended between two worlds — between tradition and modernity, the old country and the new country, the shtetl and the city,” Rivo said of the genre.

“To be able to see yourself on screen — as a Yiddish speaking immigrant, children of immigrants, or even grandchildren of immigrants — must have been a kind of an extraordinary experience.”

For today’s audiences, watching such films “gives us access to the psyche of immigrant life,” Rivo said.


(full article online)


 
A scientific breakthrough will now allow for the identification of burnt materials exposed during archaeological excavations and the reconstruction of the temperature at which they were burned.

Researchers from Tel Aviv University, Hebrew University, Bar Ilan University, and Ariel University will apply this method to findings from the ancient Philistine city of Tel Tzafit, providing scientific support for the biblical verse: "Around this time Hazael king of Aram ventured out and attacked Gath, and he captured it. Appeased, Hazael went on his way and didn’t bother Jerusalem." (2 Kings 12:18).
2 View gallery

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The ruins of Tel Tzafit
(Photo: Tel Aviv University)

The researchers explained that, unlike previous methods, the new technique enables the identification of specific materials, such as lime plaster, that underwent combustion even at relatively low temperatures, starting from 200 degrees Celsius. This information could have significant implications for interpreting archaeological findings.

A groundbreaking interdisciplinary study, led by Dr. Yoav Vaknin from the Institute of Archaeology at Tel Aviv University and the Paleomagnetism Laboratory at the Hebrew University, involved collaboration with Prof. Ron Shaar from the Institute of Earth Sciences at the Hebrew University, Prof. Erez Ben-Yosef and Prof. Oded Lipschits from the Institute of Archaeology at Tel Aviv University, Prof. Aharon Meir from the Department of Land of Israel Studies and Archaeology at Bar-Ilan University, and Dr. Adi Eliyahu Behar from the Department of Land of Israel Studies and Archaeology, as well as the Department of Chemistry at Ariel University. The findings of this research have been published in the scientific journal PLOS ONE.

Prof. Lipschits explained the research, stating, "Throughout the Bronze and Iron Ages, the main construction material in most regions of Israel was mudbrick. This inexpensive and readily available material was used for constructing walls in most structures, sometimes above stone foundations. Therefore, understanding the technology used to produce mudbricks is of great importance."


(full article online)

 
We all wait for that moment. The audience at the 75th Primetime Emmy Awards becomes silent as the lights dim, orchestral music is cued, and a powerful singer — think Jennifer Hudson — appears dramatically as the traditional In Memoriam segment of the show begins. This year, the Television Academy has compiled a list of over 250 people who left us since the last Primetime Emmy Awards were given out (In Memoriam). They brightened our lives as performers, series creators, writers, producers, journalists, executives, and even government officials. And they brought pride and joy to the Jewish community.

On TV, the names and images of the departed flash by so quickly (and some are omitted inadvertently) — we barely have any time to register what lasting impact they had on screen, and beyond television.

All are worthy of this special tribute, which reflects their lasting importance in shaping our viewing experience, and beyond that, influencing our larger thinking in ways that will stand the test of time.
Although many of the departed were notable for a particular season or series, a select group of seven Jews were among those who truly moved the needle; they brought extra-special qualities to their television work, and to humanity itself. All are worthy of this special tribute, which reflects their lasting importance in shaping our viewing experience, and beyond that, influencing our larger thinking in ways that will stand the test of time.

Consider this as a handy guide while watching the In Memoriam during this year’s 75th Primetime Emmy Awards broadcast, hopefully deepening that fleeting experience and our cultural connection to them. More importantly, we have designed this to serve as a heartfelt reference to be reviewed well after the show’s closing credits begin to scroll. Simply put, we remember these Jewish television luminaries with enduring respect and appreciation.

(vide list online)

 
There was a time when, for New York’s Jews, the word “cafeteria” conjured up something far grander and more full of hope than sterile lunch counters that serve soggy pizza to elementary school students.

By the 1930s, Jews had embraced their own version of the city’s beloved cafeterias, counter-service restaurants with satisfying, affordable food and no limit to how long customers could sit. Here, one could catch up with friends, read the news, and find love — all while noshing on a blintz or a Danish.

“Conversation flowed freely at Dubrow’s, and it was not unusual for patrons to walk around and greet friends at various tables as if they were at a large private party,” photographer Marcia Bricker Halperin wrote in Kibbitz and Nosh: When We All Met at Dubrow’s Cafeteria, a book of photos she took of the scenes and characters of Dubrow’s, a Jewish institution in the neighborhood of Flatbush where she grew up.

(full article online)


 
Do you know about the Spielberg-produced film about a loving but troubled family led by a workaholic scientist and a dreamer who brings home a pet monkey?

It’s not The Fabelmans, but the similarities may partially explain why Nancy Spielberg (who uses the same monkey actor from her brother’s film) was eager to work on Vishniac, a documentary about photographer Roman Vishniac, a versatile creative who embodied many of the Spielberg family’s own qualities. It helps, perhaps, that Vishniac’s photos were used as a visual reference for Schindler’s List.

Vishniac, celebrated for his images of microscopic organisms and European Jewish life, had an amazing gift for storytelling through pictures. He also had a deep love of his fellow Jews that, in the years before World War II, brought us some of the most iconic images of a people on the edge of the grave.

Directed by documentary filmmaker Laura Bialis (Refusenik and Rock in the Red Zone), Vishniac begins with a dramatization of the photographer’s daughter, Mara, sitting in his darkroom as a child and watching faces take shape in the developing tray.

“I would ask him about the people in the pictures,” said Mara Vishniac Kohn, who Bialis interviewed before her death in 2018, “and he would say things like, ‘that’s our family. These are our people.’”


Vishniac, we learn, was inclined toward fabulism, but in this case the fib was in a larger sense true.

Born in Moscow to a prosperous family who escaped the Pale of Settlement, Vishniac was not directly related to many of his subjects, whom he filmed over years in cities like Warsaw and Lublin and far-flung shtetls and mountain villages. Vishniac had money and was well-assimilated. But there is no denying that when one looks at a Vishniac photo, of children in cheder, of bearded rebbes, old men and women pushing carts or city-dwelling Zionists preparing for an agricultural life in Palestine, that he forged a connection with them as a fellow Jew. The people in the pictures gaze back at you, dissolving any sense of distance.

“I would submerge myself in the suffering of my people, eat what they could afford, sleep in the same bed, learn their problems,” Vishniac vowed. He was on assignment from the Joint Distribution Committee (and the Forverts, under the direction of editor Ab Cahan) to capture Jewish life and inspire donations for relief efforts.

With the rise of Hitler in his adopted home of Berlin, Vishniac put his playful modernism and microscopic critters to the side. Still, his love of beauty — be it in protozoa or photos of his lover, and later wife, Edith — is unmistakable and his composition makes the poignancy of his pre-war photos all the more pronounced.


Bialis’ film is not just about Roman, who we learn had an unhappy marriage with his first wife, Luta, and unfairly favored his son, Wolf, who was a gifted scientist. Speaking with Mara and Vishniac’s grandchildren, it tells a larger story about antisemitism, American immigration and the toll his self-mythologizing took on the family.

“He regarded himself as a mixture of Moses and Superman,” Vishniac Kohn says.

While responsible for innovations in the practice of photomicroscopy, Vishniac was not a rigorous scientist, a fact that frustrated Wolf, who became a respected microbiologist (a crater on Mars is named for him). Talking heads from the world of photography and Jewish history speak to his genius for narrative. And while his camera didn’t lie exactly, Vishniac often embellished what was in the frame with backstory, sometimes to the benefit of the bigger picture. Scholar and curator Maya Benton found that some images may have been staged, but the film doesn’t address that, nor does it engage with Vishniac’s Eastern European contemporaries, like Yiddishist Menachem Kipnis, who included elements of modernity in their work and likely produced a truer image of pre-Holocaust Jewry.

Bialis’ slick dramatizations of Vishniac’s life, while tastefully done, are underwhelming when paired with the immediacy of the photographer’s own images.

In chipping away at some of Vishniac’s own legend — he did not, as he claimed, snap Albert Einstein the moment he created the atom bomb — the potency of what his work stands in for carries through.

Among the most moving moments in the documentary is an interview with the granddaughter of a farmer Vishniac met and filmed in the remote farming village of Apsha.

“There’s no oral history of our family, there’s no tablecloth, there’s no candlesticks — there’s nothing,” the granddaughter says. All that remains is the picture.

For many Jews who lost too much, Vishniac’s photography is a testimony to the lives their relatives lived. They may not be one’s actual family, but they are undoubtedly one’s people.

The film Vishniac premieres Jan. 16 at the New York Jewish Film Festival. Tickets and more information can be found here.





 

Today in Jewish History​

• Majorcan Jews Guaranteed Protection (1393)
The governor of Majorca issued an edict for the protection of the Jewish inhabitants, providing that any citizen who injures a Jew would be hanged.

The advantageous position of the islands, as well as their newly found protection, attracted many Jews from Provence, Sicily, Tunis, and Algiers, amongst other African cities. The Jews even had their own organizations and representatives by sanction of the King.
 


Many Jews were enslaved by the Romans and brought from Judea (Israel) to Italy. As a result, and like so many other diasporic Jews around the world, I am part Ebrei Romani Jew or Italian Jew. So, when I visited Italy, I made a point to visit the Jewish Ghetto in Venice.

You may not be aware that the term “ghetto” was invented by the Italians to describe the area where Jews were required to live. Jews were not permitted to live in neighborhoods amongst other Italians. The world’s first Ghetto was established in 1517 in Venice.

The Venetian Ghetto is literally “an island within an island” in Venice. You access the ghetto by climbing a bridge over a mote then you pass through large gated doors with ancient locks.

The 900 Jewish residents of the ghetto were locked inside at nightfall and let out at daybreak. Let that sink in. This segregation from Italian society continued until 1797 when Napoleon Bonaparte & the French military toppled the Venetian Republic and decreed that the Jews could live freely.

Want to know more? Visit:Il Museo Embraico de Venezia http://ghettovenezia.com

Check out India Naftali's video! #TikTok https://tiktok.com/t/ZPRcvWXeH/
 

Today in Jewish History​

• Jews of Colmar Expelled (1510)
Three years after the request by the Council of Colmar, Emperor Maximilian I granted permission to expel the Jews of Colmar, Germany (now France). The community exerted every effort to secure the repeal of the decree of banishment. With the help of Rabbi Joselman of Rosheim, the leader of the Alsatian Jews, the enforcement of the decree was postponed until S. George's Day of 1512.
 
Plans are underway to expand a historic Jewish cemetery in the Maltese town of Marsa.

The Jewish Foundation of Malta is leading the project, which will include some 10,750 square feet of previously unused land. The 145-year-old cemetery, and two others in Malta, have reportedly reached capacity.

About 100 Jews, mostly Sefardim, live in Malta, per the World Jewish Congress, which notes that the country has seen “a recent resurgence in the practice of Jewish life.”

Jews likely arrived in Malta some 3,000 years ago, although a permanent Jewish presence there likely dates back to the second half of the first century, according to the WJC. Jews were oppressed in present-day Malta under the Inquisition, and were enslaved for centuries. Christopher Marlowe’s late 16th-century play “The Jew of Malta” famously captures some of the country’s Jew-hatred.

During the Holocaust, however, Malta was the only European country to admit Jews without visas, so many Jews fled there from the Nazis.

“Malta rescued thousands of Jews from persecution,” according to the WJC. “Numerous Maltese Jews or Jews arrived in Malta, and many fought the Nazi regime in the British Army during the war.”

The restoration of the cemetery is part of a broader crowdfunding effortto preserve Jewish Maltese cemeteries, which has raised some $2,000 of a target of more than $110,000.


 
The history of the Jewish community of England has been strikingly discordant: Home to some of the worst antisemitic incidents in European history, England has also been one of the most philo-semitic countries of modern times. While England’s Jewish community has always been comparatively small, it has in many ways had an outsized influence, perhaps best exemplified by the legacy of the former chief rabbi of the United Hebrew Congregations of the Commonwealth, Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, one of the most famous and widely read Jewish theologians today.

Medieval Period: Arrival and Persecution

The Jewish community in England dates back to 1066, when the first Jewish residents were invited by William the Conqueror, who needed their help to finance the Norman Conquest. Over time, the Jewish community expanded, and although the largest number were based in London, significant communities grew up in Lincoln, Norwich and Cambridge, among other places.

Legally, the Jews of medieval England were considered the monarch’s property, and thus were often subject to financial pressure and other kinds of abuse. In the words of scholar and lawyer Anthony Julius, “The history of medieval English Jewry is thus in large measure the history of the persecution of medieval English Jewry.”

Most infamous among those persecutions was the medieval blood libel, which originated in England and falsely claimed that the Jews of Norwich killed a young Christian apprentice, William, in the 12th century. A Benedictine monk, Thomas of Monmouth, composed a hagiography of William in which he not only made the case for William’s sainthood but also charged the Jews with his death:

(full article online)


 
When two-time Oscar winner Lee Grant returned to making movies after spending 12 years on the blacklist, it was two Normans — Jewison and Lear — who helped her back.

With the House Un-American Activities Committee witch hunts of the 1950s over, Grant got a phone call from Jewison about his film In the Heat of the Night.

“He asked me to come in and meet with him and offered me — just offered me” the part, Grant, 98, said over the phone, speaking from her apartment on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. “There was nothing said about my past, or politics, or anything like that.”

Then, while Grant was preparing to shoot Jewison’s film, Norman Lear rang asking her to play a bit part in his 1967 film Divorce American Style, which he wrote and produced. “It was like, two days work,” Grant said, but she was amused that Lear seemed to get a kick out of “giving little blacklisted girl her first part in a movie.”

Well, her first part in a major film since the blacklist, at least. Grant, who went on to win an Oscar for best supporting actress in Shampoo and one for best documentary for her film Down and Out in America, was blacklisted in 1952 after her real first film role, in 1951’s Detective Story, earned her an Academy Award nomination. She credits Jewison, who died Saturday at 97, and Lear, who died in December at 101, with arranging her comeback.

She was never a Communist, but was married to one, screenwriter Arnold Manoff. That fact, combined with her public eulogy for their friend J. Edward Bromberg, in which she attributed his early death of a heart attack to McCarthyism, led to her being included in the Red Channels report, which cataloged alleged Communists. (Manoff also died early, at 50. He and Grant divorced before his death, but she publicly mourned him, and likewise blamed his death on what he went through during the Red Scare.)

(full article online)


 

Today in Jewish History​

• Twelve Jews Burnt at Auto De Fe in Peru (1639)
With the inquisition having arrived on American shores, twelve Jews were burnt in an auto de fe in Lima, Peru, on the 18th of Shevat 5399 (1639). Of the 63 Jews who were condemned at the time to various punishments, eleven were burnt alive at the stake, along with the body of a twelfth, who had committed suicide during the trial.

Amongst those burnt was Manuel Bautista Perez, reported to have been the richest man in Peru at the time, as well as Francisco Maldonado de Silva, a surgeon, poet, and philosopher who was seized in Chile in 1627, and remained in the dungeons of the Inquisition for nearly twelve years. His devotion to his faith never wavered; while in prison he even converted two Catholics to Judaism!
 

Today in Jewish History​

• Jews of Basel Burned Alive (1349)
With the Black Death raging throughout Switzerland, poison was reported to have been found in the wells at Zofingen. Some Jews were put to the "Dümeln" (thumbscrews) test, whereupon they "admitted" their guilt of the charges brought against them. This discovery was then communicated to the people of Basel, Zurich, Freiburg-im-Breisgau, and even Cologne.

The Jews of Basel were burned on an island in the Rhine on January 9, 1349, in wooden huts that were especially built for the occasion. Their children, who were spared, were taken and forcibly baptized.


• Murder of Daniel Pearl by Muslim Terrorists in Pakistan (2002)

Daniel Pearl, an American-born Jewish reporter for The Wall Street Journal was kidnapped by terrorists in Karachi by a militant group calling itself the National Movement for the Restoration of Pakistani Sovereignty, which claimed that Pearl was a spy.

Nine days later, on Shevat 19 (Feb 1), Pearl was beheaded on videotape. The gruesome tape has Pearl stating that, “… My father's Jewish, my mother's Jewish, I'm Jewish. …”
 

Today in Jewish History​

• First Jew Granted Residence in England (1657)
On February 4, 1657, Oliver Cromwell, Lord Protector of England, issued the first residence permit to a Jew, Luis Carvajal, since the expulsion of all Jews from England by King Edward I in the year 1290. The edict of expulsion had been officially overturned in the previous year, 1656. The re-admittance of Jews into England was partially due to the efforts of the great scholar Rabbi Menasseh Ben Israel.
 
 
What do we mean by Jewish humor? To begin, it is humor that is overtly Jewish in its concerns, characters, definitions, language, values or symbols. (A Jewish joke, goes one definition, is one that no goy can understand and every Jew says he has already heard.) But not all Jewish humor derives from Jewish sources, just as not all humor created by Jews is necessarily Jewish. In these matters it is best to examine not the singer but the song.

Jewish humor is too rich and too diverse to be adequately described by a single generalization. Jewish theologians used to say that it is easier to describe God in terms of what He is not; the same process may be useful in understanding Jewish humor. It is not, for example, escapist. It is not slapstick. It is not physical. It is generally not cruel and does not attack the weak or the infirm. At the same time, it is also not polite or gentle.

But individual humorists come to mind immediately to negate each of these tendencies: The Marx Brothers are slapstick performers; Jerry Lewis and Sid Caesar are physical; Don Rickles is cruel; Sam Levenson is polite and Danny Kaye is playful. So much for generalizations.

What Jewish humor is may be even more difficult to determine, and we offer the following broad statements in full awareness of the possible futility of the exercise:

1. Jewish humor is usually substantive.

It is about something. It is especially fond of certain specific topics, such as food (noshing is sacred), family, business, anti-Semitism, wealth and its absence, health, and survival. Jewish humor is also fascinated by the intricacies of the mind and by logic, and the short if elliptical path separating the rational from the absurd.

As social or religious commentary, Jewish humor can be sarcastic, complaining, resigned, or descriptive. Sometimes the “point” of the humor is more powerful than the laugh it delivers, and for some of the jokes, the appropriate response is not laughter, but rather a bitter nod or a commiserating sigh of recognition. This didactic quality precludes laughing “for free,” as in slapstick humor, which derives its laughter from other people’s misfortunes.

2. Jewish humor tends to be anti-authoritarian.

It ridicules grandiosity and self-indulgence, exposes hypocrisy, and kicks pomposity in the pants. It is strongly democratic, stressing the dignity and worth of common folk.

3. Jewish humor frequently has a critical edge.

This edge creates discomfort in making its point. Often its thrust is political–aimed at leaders and other authorities who cannot be criticized more directly. This applies to prominent figures in the general society, as well as to those in the Jewish world, such as rabbis, cantors, sages, intellectuals, teachers, doctors, businessmen, philanthropists, and community functionaries. A special feature of Jewish humor is the interaction of prominent figures with simple folk and the disadvantaged, with the latter often emerging triumphant. In general, Jewish humor characteristically deals with the conflict between the people and the power structure, whether that be the individual Jew within his community, the Jew facing the Gentile world, or the Jewish community in relation to the rest of humanity.

4. Jewish humor mocks everyone — including God.​

It frequently satirizes religious personalities and institutions, as well as rituals and dogma. At the same time, it affirms religious traditions and practices, seeking a new understanding of the differences between the holy and the mundane.

 

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