New sanctions surge could lead to new dilemmas for groups that have banked on issue.
James D. Besser
Recent breakthroughs in the U.S.-led effort to squeeze Iran could change the political calculus for American Jewish groups that have benefited hugely from their decades-old focus on Iran — and which have largely succeeded in making Iran’s threat to both U.S. and Israeli interests a top policy for Congress and the White House.
No humanitarian aid to Shalit, and no story either.
Even before the facts were clear about the battle between Israeli commandos and the pro-Hamas flotilla, we were told by The New York Times website, and dozens of other online media, that Israel was being “condemned.” Indeed it was.
Political and Jewish leaders stood in the shadow of the United Nations Monday to denounce the presence of Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad at a UN conference on the Nuclear Nonproliferation Treaty.
“Iran’s presence at this conference is a sham,” bristled Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand (D-N.Y.).
She then called for Senate hearings to investigate all companies that do business with Iran, thus helping it as it develops nuclear weapons to “enable terrorism.”
You gotta feel a little bad for Jewish leaders here, who were sandbagged by last week's announcement that Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad will be in New York on Monday for, of all things, the UN's nuclear nonproliferation talks.
The last-minute announcement by the Iranians meant there wasn't enough time for the customary debate over the best communal response, inevitably followed by the various Jewish organization going their own way, anyway.
And when you come down to it, what can Jewish organizations do?
Jewish groups were scrambling on Wednesday to develop strategies for protesting next week's likely New York visit of Iranian president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.
The Iranian leader has requested a visa to attend the U.N.-sponsored Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty Review Conference. Obama administration officials hope the meeting will strengthen the 1970 pact as they wrestle with how to enlist international support for tough sanctions aimed at thwarting Iran's nuclear ambitions.
In a gritty Bronx neighborhood, a 91-year-old retired lamp manufacturer pumps out enough ‘outsider’ art for a museum.
Hidden behind rows of shoddy warehouses, auto-repair junkyards and single-room-occupancy tenements, the Museum of the People of the World is largely invisible to the sporadic passersby in its gritty Bronx location, just east of the Grand Concourse and down the hill from the jagged bedrock of Tremont’s Echo Park.
The museum of what, you say? Where?
In a city of museums — from one on sex to one on biblical art — you won’t find this one in any museum index or listing, in print or online.
During the 1990s, the German writer W.G. Sebald published an extraordinary series of novels that redefined the way in which the Jews of Europe were imagined by non-Jews. In books like “The Emigrants” and “Austerlitz,” Sebald, who died five years ago in a car accident in his adopted country of England, created a narrator who traveled around the world recording the lives of Jews who were in permanent exile from their prewar lives.