The value of the life of a journalist doesn’t matter very much in a post-truth world. And so the politicians, pundits and activists lined up according to their usual and predictable positions, ready to make political, ideological and rhetorical gains off the death of a woman.
Yes, if what you mean is outright racial preferences, that is, bonus points for being a certain race.
Israel’s immigration policy is a constant minefield in the public discourse.
As the United States House Select Committee on the January 6 attack gears up to hold televised hearings this spring, lawmakers probably won’t devote much airtime to religion’s role in the assault on our democracy.
Kati Marton doesn’t think of herself as a political activist.
When Russia invaded Ukraine in late February, an interesting overlap emerged in Israeli public discourse.
Abortion bans are predicated on assumptions about when life begins that have specific Christian theological assumptions baked into them.
I’ve been obsessed with Black-Jewish relations for half a century.
I remember the Shitrit family. Very devout new immigrants from Morocco, they lived in the building next to mine in Sanhedria Murchevet, the dusty Northern Jerusalem neighborhood designated for religious olim, or immigrants, by the Jewish Agency in the 1970s.
In December, Arab Knesset member Mansour Abbas noted that Israel was born as a Jewish state and will remain one, so the pressing question of the status of Arab citizens there “is not about the state’s identity.”
As 2022 ushers in a new political cycle, the relationship between former president Donald Trump and his supporters in the Jewish community—a minority, but a passionate and often influential one—seems set to enter a new and more complicated phase.
Democracy entails more than merely majority rule. It implies concern about minority rights.
