Giving a hero's sendoff to a figure widely believed to have committed offenses sends the message that rape and sexual harassment can and will be ignored !!!

In praising Haim Walder, Haredi media told his victims they don’t matter 

Haim Walder’s death, revealed on Monday, was front-page news in many outlets that chronicle the Jewish world (The Times of Israel included). And of course, his death was reported in newspapers of the Haredi world, the world from which Walder hailed. Accounts appeared in the Haredi publications Kikar HaShabbat and Behadrei Haredim – and both were disgraceful.

Walder was one of the most powerful and trusted voices in the ultra-Orthodox world, largely because of his wildly popular “Kids Speak” series, which purportedly told the real stories and discussed the inner emotional lives of Orthodox children. He also ran the Center for Child and Family in Bnei Brak, had a weekly column in Yated Neeman, and hosted a radio talk show. The Israel National Council for the Child recognized his good work in 2003 by giving him its Magen HaYeled award.

The feel-good facade fell apart last month when Haaretz printed a well-sourced expose claiming Walder was, in fact, a serial sexual abuser. Once the article was published, the floodgates opened and more damning information came to light. Rabbi Shmuel Eliyahu, the chief rabbi of Safed, son of Israel’s former chief rabbi and a well-regarded scholar in his own right, revealed that he had heard testimony unrelated to the Haaretz article that attested to Walder’s guilt and that his actions had literally broken up families. Most recently, on December 26, Rabbi Eliyahu’s rabbinical court in Safed heard from 22 people who testified that Walder had committed sexual assault and sexual harassment against girls, boys and women.

When Walder was found dead in Petah Tikva, having died by suicide in a local cemetery, Kikar HaShabbat and Behadrei Haredim, the latter of which calls itself the largest ultra-Orthodox website in the world could have reported his death and described his fall from grace. But they didn’t. Or, they could have reported his death and said nothing further. But they didn’t. Or, they could have ignored the news altogether. They didn’t.

 

Screengrab from the Haredi ‘B’Hadrei Haredim’ site: The headline reads: ‘BD”E (Blessed is the Judge): Author Haim Walder, z”l (of blessed memory) passed away, age 54’.

 

Instead, both sites reported the death of the Haim Walder we thought we knew in October: the upstanding defender of children, the winner of the Magen HaYeled prize, the author who sold untold thousands of books. They both repeatedly added z”l after his name, meaning “of blessed memory.” Kikar HaShabbat concluded its article with the phrase, “May his soul be bound in the bond of life,” while Behadrei Haredim concluded with “May his memory be a blessing.”

To be sure, Kikar HaShabbat mentioned — in paragraph nine out of 11 — that his radio show was suspended several weeks ago because of serious evidence that he behaved “inappropriately.” But even more space in that same paragraph is dedicated to saying that he “emphatically” denied the allegations, and quoting his statement saying he would spend the upcoming months in the struggle to defend his name. This meager allusion to the massive scandal that enveloped Walder was still far more than Behadrei Haredim wrote about it; the self-professed largest site in the Haredi world made no mention of the scandal at all.

Why does this matter?

It matters because Haim Walder’s many victims came largely from the Haredi world, and may well be among the readers of these two sites. What has it been like for someone sexually abused by Haim Walder to see him praised year after year? And worse: what is it like for someone sexually abused by Haim Walder to see him praised even after his predatory nature was revealed to the world? What message are these news outlets giving victims about who matters more? They choose to pour gasoline on a combustible wound that is already in flames.

It matters because everyone needs to acknowledge the criminal nature of sexual abuse, and to inform the public that sexual crimes will not be tolerated. Treating Haim Walder as a departed hero sends the explicit message that rape and sexual harassment can and will be ignored. Make no mistake: many of the readers of these sites know exactly who Haim Walder was. Kikar HaShabbat and Behadrei Haredim are telling them that his crimes are not, in fact, part of his legacy. When all is said and done, rape, sexual abuse, and sexual harassment are not particularly important.

It matters because we need to be able to speak frankly and openly and with appropriate language about sexual abuse. When the terms “sex” and “sexual abuse” are taboo, victims lack the vocabulary to describe what abusers have done to them. And when the topic of sexual abuse is at best couched in terms like “inappropriate behavior,” victims lack permission to discuss their experience at all.

It matters because honesty matters. It matters because journalism matters. It matters because a healthy society must allow the light of truth to shine upon it, revealing its flaws as well as its strengths. A community that refuses to acknowledge its own imperfection is edging toward implosion and collapse.

The offensive and unworthy reporting in Kikar HaShabbat and Behadrei Haredim is further evidence that the ultra-Orthodox world — and perhaps the Orthodox world in general — needs journalism that does more than reinforce the community’s existing view of itself as a wholly righteous society. 

Regarding truth, self-criticism, and care for victims, Haredi sites and publications often fail miserably. They — and we — must do better.

***********

On the advice of the great men of Israel, 

the wording of the tombstone sent by the family:

 

בעצת גדולי ישראל נוסח המצבה ששלחו המשפחה:

פ"נ 

נפש נקי וצדיק 

איש ירא אלוקים 

הרב חיים אליעזר ולדר זצ"ל

בן הרב שלמה שיבדלחט"א 

נלב"ע בדמי ימיו כ"ד טבת תשפ"ב 

רבים השיב מעוון , חינך בדרך המסורה מפי מרנן ורבנן גדולי האומה 

עסק וביצר חומות ההשקפה החינוך הטהור והדת 

חסדיו וצדקותיו לנצח עומדים 

ת.נ.צ.ב.ה 

ע"פ צוואתו : 

לשון הרע לא מדבר אלי

הוזמן היום אצל וייס מצבות ושיש

On the advice of the great men of Israel, 

the wording of the tombstone sent by the family:

Here Rests:

A clean and righteous mind

A God-fearing man

Rabbi Chaim Eliezer Velder ztl

Son of Rabbi Shlomo Shivdalahta

Nalba in the days of his life 24 Tevet 5722

Many answered iniquity, 

educated in the dedicated way from the mouths of the nation's great rabbis 

Dealt with and fortified the walls of view pure education and religion

His grace and righteousness stand forever

ת.נ.צ.ב.ה

According to his will:

Defamation does not speak to me

 Ordered today at Weiss Tombstones and Marble

https://blogs.timesofisrael.com/in-praising-haim-walder-haredi-media-told-his-victims-they-dont-matter/?utm_source=The+Blogs+Weekly+Highlights&utm_campaign=blogs-weekly-highlights-2021-12-30&utm_medium=email

Dr. Salk & Dr Sabin - 2 Jews Who Would Not Give Up Or Give In - Polio Was Eradicated!

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HISTORY

Vintage Headlines

The Press Made the Polio Vaccine Trials Into a Public Spectacle

As a medical breakthrough unfolded in the early 1950s, newspapers filled pages with debates over vaccine science and anecdotes about kids receiving shots

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The stories of children who participated in polio vaccine tests became a constant in media coverage, appearing alongside warnings and debates. Illustration by Meilan Solly / Photos via Getty Images and Newspapers.com

 

 

The initial announcement came over the radio one Thursday in March: at last, scientists had developed a vaccine. For decades, communities around the United States had been struck by recurring waves of infectious, debilitating and sometimes deadly virus. The previous year had been a particularly bad one; epidemic. Almost 60,000 new cases and more than 3,000 fatalities had been reported, the vast majority of them in young children.

But the campaign for a cure was finally beginning to produce promising developments. And in 1953, the physician Jonas Salk told a national radio audience for the first time that a vaccine had proved successful in preliminary tests. "These studies provide justification for optimism, and it does appear that the approach in these investigations may lead to the desired objective,” Salk said. “But this has not yet been accomplished.”.

Maybe, he explained, after more extensive trials, it would effectively inoculate young people against the threat of polio.

Maybe.

From the beginning, Salk, a medical researcher based in PIttsburgh, worried about expectations. The New York Times later reported that he hadn’t wanted to make the radio announcement at all. “If Dr. Salk had his way,” the article reflected, “no word of discovery would have been published until the vaccine had been tested thoroughly.” But the news of a vaccine had already gradually begun seeping out from the National Foundation for Infantile Paralysis events where Salk had spoken earlier in the year about his initial successes. “When the news came out in the spring of 1953,” the Times article explained, “he rushed to New York to see that the press did not overstate the matter.”

The morning papers reflected Salk’s caution. In reporting carried around the country, Associated Press journalists pronounced the vaccine safe and promising, but emphasized that questions remained unanswered. Many papers led with the revelation that shots wouldn’t be available by the summer, when polio always wreaked the most havoc. In many others, the announcement didn’t even make the front page; in Wilmington, Delaware’s News Journal, it was relegated to page 40, behind pieces on the state’s annual Mother of the Year award and subway fare hikes in New York City.

Jonas Salk, medical researcher and developer of the polio vaccine, talks with CBS Radio in 1954. CBS Photo Archive / Getty Images

Salk had succeeded in controlling the media narrative about his findings—at least for a day. But in doing so he had also thrust himself and his vaccine into the bright light of national scrutiny, and there would be no going back. To the long-suffering public, he became a specific receptacle for hope. To the scientific community, already widely doubtful of his chosen method for preparing his vaccine, he became a target for criticism and rivalry, even as he also garnered support. And to the press, he became the main character in the story of the search for a cure.

In the months following his announcement, that publicity mainly served to stoke anticipation and turn Salk into a minor celebrity. The real spectacle began a year later, when Salk’s vaccine moved out of his Pittsburgh laboratory and into the more extensive testing he had mentioned—a series of trials that would become the most significant public health experiment in the history of the United States. Over the course of less than 12 months, 1.8 million children in 44 states—and in Canada and Finland—would step up to participate in the vaccine trials. It was an unprecedented scale, never matched in the country before or since. By comparison, Pfizer and BioNTech’s COVID-19 vaccine trials ended ten months after the vaccine was first developed and involved roughly 43,500 test subjects; Moderna’s, completed in the same time period, included just over 28,200.

Also unprecedented was the methodology for many of the trials: They were the first to employ the double-blind method, in which children were randomly assigned to receive either placebos or a series of three real shots, so that the effects of the vaccine could be observed in comparison with a control.

It was, in sum, a massive, complicated, historic effort to advance medical science. And all of it—the trials themselves, as well as the doubts, debates, and hopes bound up in them—unfolded in public, with the scrutiny of the scientific community, the press, and the American people on full display.

The main tenor of the trial coverage was one of uncertainty. The papers pondered many of the same questions that have become familiar in the current vaccine rollout: When would shots be available? What kind of vaccine, Salk’s or competing models that took a different approach, would be more effective? What could all of it mean for the future of the disease, and the communities it had haunted for so long? But the open-ended nature of the public trials raised even more fundamental questions. Chief among them: Would the vaccine really work at all?

This photo was taken on April 12, 1955—the day of an official announcement deeming the vaccine safe and effective. Getty Images

Through the lens of hindsight, the coverage during that time period was, if anything, understated. Alongside accurate information, the uncertainty opened up space for fears that proved unwarranted and estimates that ultimately fell far short of the truth. Newspapers correctly reported that the vaccine wouldn’t be available to the public for one to three years after Salk’s announcement. But they also warned that the vaccine, as earlier attempts at inoculation had decades earlier, might cause inflammation of the brain or otherwise afflict recipients with polio symptoms (it didn’t).

A major source of concern in the coverage was Salk’s decision to use inactivated polio in his vaccines, rather than live, but weakened, strains of the virus. Medical orthodoxy, informed by the success of the smallpox vaccine, held that a killed-virus vaccine like Salk’s wouldn’t effectively protect recipients against infection. This debate had simmered behind closed doors in the scientific community before Salk’s announcement, but as the vaccine trials unfolded it broke out into the open and generated waves of headlines—even though the concerns had little to no real substantiation. Dr. Alfred Sabin, who was in the process of developing his own vaccine using live virus strains, argued that Salk’s could potentially cause more cases of polio than it would prevent, and that all manufacture and testing should be stopped (Salk’s methodology actually has proven less likely to infect patients with polio than Sabin’s, if also slightly less effective in boosting community immunity).

In August 1953 another doctor expressed fear that Salk’s vaccine would “protect children for a few years and then ... leave them in great danger of getting a severe type of polio” (no such crisis manifested and, by all accounts, the vaccine grants long-lasting immunity). And a year later, a radio broadcaster warned his audience in that the vaccine “may be a killer” because, he said, public health services had found that in 70 percent of the batches they tested the virus hadn’t been inactivated at all (officials and Salk himself quickly stepped up to counter that report).

More than any of those doubts or warnings, though, the press was full of reminders that the trials weren’t over yet, that the future was unknown, that more work was to be done. “Until these obstacles are overcome,” a New York Times reporter summarized three days after Salk had made his initial announcement, “it cannot be reported that a surefire vaccine against polio has been developed. But we are on the way.”

Some of the strongest champions of Salk’s vaccine continued to push for that measured outlook up until the very end of the trials. Less than two weeks before their conclusion, a group of institutional backers—comprising The National Foundation for Infantile Paralysis and six pharmaceutical manufacturers—publicly classified their support as a “calculated risk.” “We have not had either official or unofficial assurances that the vaccine is successful,” one pharmaceutical executive stressed.

In the 1950s, the media didn't hesitate to play up the drama of kids getting their vaccine shots USC Libraries / Getty Images

Even under the weight of all those unknowns, however, hundreds of thousands of children—and their parents—continued to participate in the vaccine testing. Their stories became a constant in the coverage alongside all the warnings, the debates, the reports of other children who had already taken part later contracting polio. Newspapers regularly reported on new masses of volunteers and filled columns with quotes and anecdotes from elementary school students who had overcome their own personal fears of the needle, often encouraged by the promise of candy.

Randy Kerr, a 6-year-old from Virginia who received the inaugural shot in the national trials, earned particular celebrity among this group. Papers all around America carried his photo and reported that he’d been concerned his poison ivy would prevent him from participating after “begging all week to be the first,” as his teacher recalled.

“It didn’t hurt,” Randy told reporters. “I could hardly feel it. It doesn’t hurt as much as a penicillin shot.”

Parents, who signed volunteer waivers for their children and helped organize trials and fund-raising campaigns, were cast in a more muted role in the press. But when featured, they were more articulate about the significance of the trials and often offered up quiet hope amid the doubt. “As parents we are grateful to hear that this vaccine is to be tested,” one Utah PTA president summarized to reporters, “because, if successful, it might well mean that the day is nearing when our children really can be protected.”

Article after article also cited experts who insisted that the vaccine was “safe,” “perfectly safe,” safe “beyond all doubt.” These served as a counterbalance to every fear-sparking claim; an underlying reassurance that the testing could keep moving forward, and that there could be a happy resolution at the end of it all.

Then, in April 1955, that happy resolution arrived.Headlines broke through months of practiced restraint to proclaim researchers’ final report findings without caveat: “Polio Vaccine Both Safe, Effective”; “Salk Vaccine Can Conquer Polio;” “End of Polio In Sight.”

The logistics of administering millions upon millions of vaccines still had to be worked out. In the meantime, more children would be afflicted with polio, with more instances of infantile paralysis, more deaths. Forty thousand of those infections would be brought on—infamously—by a manufacturing error in the vaccine itself, an event which spurred another period of doubt and reassurance in the press.It would be 24 years before polio was eradicated in the United States, with Sabin’s easier-to-administer oral vaccine taking the starring role for most of that time.

But after years of very public uncertainty, the press and the public had a clear answer and a clear endpoint: Polio could be eliminated. Church bells rang out around the country. Hope, at last unrestrained by not yets, lit the flame for a massive, vaccination effort like nothing the country had ever seen. And in the end, the celebratory headlines of April 1955 weren’t an overstatement at all.

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/press-made-polio-vaccine-trials-public-spectacle-180977304/?utm_source=smithsoniandaily&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=20211228-daily-responsive&spMailingID=46171517&spUserID=MTAwOTA4NTE0MjE5MQS2&spJobID=2143220288&spReportId=MjE0MzIyMDI4OAS2

In Saudi Arabia, a rabbi angles to lead a Jewish community that doesn’t exist.....

 

meshuggener

noun

me·​shug·​gen·​er | \ mə-ˈshu̇-gə-nər

\

Definition of meshuggener

: a foolish or crazy person

Meshuggener Has Yiddish Roots

From bagel and chutzpah to shtick and yenta, Yiddish has given English many a colorful term over the years. Meshuggener is another example of what happens when English interprets that rich Jewish language. Meshuggener comes from the Yiddish meshugener, which in turn derives from meshuge, an adjective that is synonymous with crazy or foolish. English speakers have used the adjective form, meshuga or meshugge, to mean "foolish" since the late 1800s; we've dubbed foolish folk meshuggeners since at least 1900.

In Saudi Arabia, a rabbi angles to lead a Jewish community that doesn’t exist

 

Jacob Herzog is loudly trying to build Jewish life in a country where non-Islamic displays are forbidden, raising concerns among local Jews who prefer to stay under the radar

In late November, on the third night of the Jewish festival of Hanukkah, an ultra-Orthodox Jew from Israel lit candles in his Riyadh hotel room.

Displaying the holiday candles publicly, as Orthodox Jews traditionally do, could have landed the man in a heap of trouble. Even today, despite Saudi Arabia opening up significantly to the West, there is no open practice of Judaism in the country and proselytization of any religion but Islam is illegal and can carry harsh penalties.

So instead of displaying the candles for all to see, Jacob Yisrael Herzog drew the curtains in front of his window.

Then he posted a video of himself lighting the candles on Twitter.

For Herzog, the public-private act was just the latest move in a self-propelled campaign to become the chief rabbi of Saudi Arabia, a country that officially has no Jewish community.

Since the summer, Herzog has made five trips to Saudi Arabia in an attempt to establish a recognized Jewish presence in the kingdom. While the tangible impact of his efforts has seemingly been limited thus far, he is not shy about sharing his ambitious goals for the future, which run the gamut from drawing attention to kosher food in supermarkets via Instagram to opening Jewish community centers and a religious day school.

Herzog’s effort to make Jewish practice more accessible and carve out a space for communal Jewish life in one of the world’s most infamous bastions of religious persecution have won him plaudits from some and more than a dollop of positive media coverage, such as a Forward article that credited him with “bringing Judaism to Saudi Arabia.”

But to the small number of Jews who live in or frequently visit the deeply conservative petrostate, accustomed to flying under the radar and keeping their religious affiliation from becoming an affront to their hosts, his bombastic approach has sparked deep misgivings.

“This is not how things are done here,” four Jews who live in the Gulf and make frequent trips to Saudi Arabia said, using the same phrase almost verbatim. “He’s acting like a bull in a china shop.”

 

Rabbi Jacob Yisrael Herzog praying in his Riyadh hotel room, November 29, 2021. (Courtesy)

 

Herzog claims to be unbothered by critics who say his approach is unorthodox. Rather, he is focused on “getting stuff done.”

Fear has held other people back, and you don’t want to be held back by fear

“Fear has held other people back, and you don’t want to be held back by fear,” Herzog told The Times of Israel. “I’m not held back by fear… I’m not afraid.”

Planting the seeds

Herzog, 45, is an unlikely champion for a campaign requiring major religious policy reform in an ultra-sensitive setting. Born in the United States, he currently lives in Israel. His dual nationality allows him to visit Saudi Arabia despite Israel having no formal diplomatic ties with the kingdom. He is trained as a rabbi and ministered formally to Israeli soldiers, some of whom, he said, “still call me for advice.” But he has little Jewish communal experience beyond briefly serving as a chairman of a Chabad-Lubavitch synagogue in Jerusalem.

He has spent much more time in the business world, including stints in car tire recycling and agribusiness. Currently, Herzog owns ShneorSeed, which sells tomato and pepper seeds “to over 17 countries,” he said. And he hopes to add Saudi Arabia to that list.

“I’m very open about it. I have to make a living,” Herzog said.

 

Rabbi Jacob Yisrael Herzog in Jerusalem, November 22, 2021. (Carrie Keller-Lynn/Times of Israel)

 

He describes himself on LinkedIn as “Rabbi and Business Entrepreneur in The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia,” specializing in “Deals and Transactions,” as well as “ritual circumcisions and interfaith dialogue.”

“There’s always things going on,” Herzog said of both his religious and business pursuits, “so I’m moving in both directions, parallel.”

Until recently, Herzog openly used his aspirational title of “Chief Rabbi of Saudi Arabia” on both LinkedIn and the website he opened for his rabbinic pursuits.

Herzog’s plan for the future, he makes clear, is for nothing less than building the country’s first modern, public Jewish community.

“The vision is [that Saudi Arabia] should have a few full communal services, everything from [Jewish] day school [and] Jewish high schools [to] synagogues, mikvaot [ritual baths] for both men and women, all the holiday services, communal holiday meals,” he said.

In addition to “offering the full range of Jewish services and a rabbi,” Herzog would like to establish Jewish community centers in the kingdom’s major expat cities.

He said his work thus far is self-funded, though he asks for donations via his website. Among other things, he is seeking money to build seven ritual baths in Saudi Arabia, each at over $1 million.

Although he and his family are part of the Chabad community, Herzog is clear that his efforts in Saudi Arabia are not linked to the organized Chabad movement. A Chabad spokesperson confirmed that the movement had not sent a representative to Saudi Arabia.

“Chabad-Lubavitch does not currently have an emissary to Saudi Arabia. The needs of Jews in Saudi Arabia are largely being met by Chabad in the UAE — from where kosher food and other needs are provided for,” said Rabbi Motti Seligson, a spokesman for the Chabad-Lubavitch movement.

Underground and out of trouble

The size of Saudi Arabia’s Jewish population is not formally known, but estimates range from the hundreds to low thousands of Jews living in the kingdom, all of whom are expatriates. There are few accounts of an indigenous community there following the advent of Islam in 632 CE, and what few Jews there were in the country fled to Israel along with Yemen’s Jews in 1949-1950.

Why draw fire? The regime won’t allow it

Today the kingdom legally forbids practicing a religion other than Islam, and there are no official synagogues or churches in the country.

“You won’t find a Jewish community here,” said Yoel Guzansky, a senior Gulf expert at the Institute for National Security Studies in Tel Aviv. “If it exists, it’s underground. Why draw fire? The regime won’t allow it.”

Similarly, an Israeli Foreign Ministry spokesman said his office had no comment on Herzog’s activities, noting that “there’s no Jewish community [in Saudi Arabia].”

Residents in the region describe a situation reminiscent of old “don’t ask, don’t tell” policies, where Jews living and working extensively in Saudi Arabia keep their religious affiliations to themselves.

Greg, a longtime Jewish resident of the Gulf who makes monthly business trips to Saudi and has Saudi-based Jewish friends, noted that Jews in Saudi Arabia are circumspect and cautious about their faith, and almost as a rule don’t advertise it. There’s no known organized community and Jews have no real way of finding each other.

Like other Gulf-based Jews quoted in this story, he requested a pseudonym for safety reasons.

“It would be very difficult to find people [who are Jewish],” Greg said. “It’s basically just word of mouth… You walk into a gym and you meet a guy called David and go, ‘hey, David, are you Jewish?’ And that’s sort of how it gets started.”

Sam, another longtime regional resident who does not live in Saudi Arabia but is involved in Gulf Jewish life, said that Jews in the kingdom aren’t looking to ruffle their hosts’ feathers.

“The Jews who live there are all there for business reasons. And they work for mainly international companies. They have to be kind of under the radar, or they at least feel they have to be,” she said.

“They’re real visitors. It’s like they’re really visitors in somebody else’s house,” she added, echoing a sentiment many Saudi-linked Jews expressed.

It is into this atmosphere that Herzog has inserted himself. While his critics are quick to note that he is well-intentioned, they fear that he is pushing the envelope of what the kingdom will tolerate and could end up hurting Jews who are quietly established there.

“I think he needs to understand the market that he’s getting into,” Greg said, comparing him to “an elephant in a china shop.”

“I think in the long term, he’ll be creating more damage to the Jewish community than anything else, because the Saudi public isn’t ready for another religion other than Islam to be publicly practiced,” Greg added.

 

Rabbi Jacob Yisrael Herzog in a Riyadh shopping mall, November 2021. (Courtesy)

“I just don’t think the way forward is to be so in everybody’s face, knowing the Gulf people as I do now,” said Jon, a multi-decade Jewish resident of Saudi Arabia who now lives elsewhere in the region.

Sam noted that many were disturbed by a video that Herzog uploaded to social media in October of him dancing in the street with a local Saudi, as well as other posts flaunting his Jewishness.

“It scared the crap out of the Jews who are living there because they’re so under the radar about being Jewish,” she said.

Herzog offered the video as evidence that “they’re happy I’m here.”

While Herzog has had positive experiences with Saudi locals, there is not a uniformly positive attitude toward public expression of Jewishness in the Twittersphere.

Writing in Arabic, one commentator on his post warned Herzog that “someday…the stone and the trees will guide us to you,” an allusion to a Quranic verse that says that rocks and trees will expose Jews so they can be killed. This verse is also part of the Hamas charter.

I found him on Twitter and I just messaged him and he was straight back in contact, quite excited to have someone to help

Some people are excited about Herzog’s efforts, especially among travelers who said his involvement there made them feel more comfortable visiting the country.

“I was kind of Googling to see if I could find anything Jewish at all in Saudi Arabia,” said Noa Levy, 42, a London-based mortgage broker who reached out to Herzog before confirming a personal trip to Saudi Arabia. “I found him on Twitter and I just messaged him and he was straight back in contact, quite excited to have someone to help. I don’t think he has such a big demand there.”

Although they never did meet in person, Herzog helped Levy understand where she could “find kosher food in supermarkets” and he gave her the local Shabbat times.

“I think it’s quite brave,” Levy said of Herzog’s efforts.

M., a Jerusalem-based businesswoman who declined to use her name because Israeli travel to Saudi Arabia is still technically illegal, got help from Herzog on finding kosher food and electric candles she could use for Shabbat.

Rabbi Jacob Yisrael Herzog in Riyadh’s King Khalid International Airport, November 2021. (Courtesy)

“He’s been really amazing and really helpful,” she said.

Herzog is unfazed by the criticism from “those people sitting in Dubai and Bahrain,” and argues that staying underground is not helping Jews.

“When you do something time and time and over again and it doesn’t work, then if you keep on doing the same thing, you’re not going to get anywhere,” he said.

Herzog is adamant that he respects and obeys the laws of the kingdom and only operates within the bounds of what is legally permitted. But within those bounds, he’s willing to try new methods.

“There’s no law against walking around like this in Saudi Arabia, right?” Herzog said, referring to his distinct ultra-Orthodox dress.

No tolerance… yet

To Herzog and others, Saudi Arabia may seem ripe for opening up to the Jewish community. Driven by Crown Prince Mohammed Bin Salman, the kingdom has been undergoing a liberalization process in a bid to become a major international business hub, putting on a friendlier face toward Western visitors. The country has also been cooperating secretly with Israel against Iran for years, according to reports, and many saw it next on the normalization list after the United Arab Emirates and Bahrain established ties with Israel.

The UAE has indeed seen a blossoming of public Jewish life since the Abraham Accords, but the community there operated underground for over a decade before being able to step out into the sunlight.

A rabbi officiates under a traditional Jewish wedding canopy during marriage ceremony of the Israeli couple Noemie Azerad, left, seated under the canopy, and Simon David Benhamou, at a hotel in Dubai, United Arab Emirates, December 17, 2020. (Kamran Jebreili/AP)

“You’d arrive in the airport in Dubai with a kippa [religious skullcap] and the Emiratis would ask you to put a baseball cap on,” said Greg, a longtime resident. “It was for your own safety.”

Today the UAE community operates in the open, has multiple communities of worship and is serviced by three publicly prominent rabbis.

You can’t go to Saudi Arabia [a handful of times] and then be like, ‘I’m going to be the head of a religion that isn’t even recognized there’

A Gulf-based source familiar with the situation said Herzog was doing the opposite of what had happened in the UAE.

“You can’t go to Saudi Arabia [a handful of times] and then be like, ‘I’m going to be the head of a religion that isn’t even recognized there,’” the source observed. “Usually the way it works is you first kind of have to do the things below ground, establish relationships with the people who live there, with the government, with the business community. And then you could do it. But he literally just announced himself as a chief rabbi and figured based off of announcing himself, that he’s going to get these people to come out of the woodwork.”

Herzog, by his own admission, has not been in contact with members of the Saudi government, although he claims that “they hear me talking.”

Guzansky noted that the advances by Dubai and Bahrain may make it easier for Riyadh to open up by giving the move “more legitimacy.”

“It’s becoming the new normal,” he said.

But he cautioned that Saudi Arabia was still a long way off from normalizing true multi-faith practice and that any reforms would be incremental at best.

“You have to understand that the religious element is very, very conservative still,” Guzansky said. “Although we see changes, the changes are not toward other religions, yet. They are more internal to Islam, allowing couples to walk hand-in-hand and sit in cinemas.”

Beachgoers play at floating blow-up water park, at Pure Beach in King Abdullah Economic City, Saudi Arabia, on September 17, 2021 (Fayez NURELDINE / AFP)

“There’s no tolerance toward any religion in Saudi Arabia other than Islam, so far. You won’t find a synagogue. They had churches, but they were only inside American bases and they’re not there anymore. You won’t find any synagogue or church of any kind. Nothing, it’s forbidden, there’s no tolerance for that.”

The Saudi Embassy in DC did not respond to a request for comment, but The Times of Israel was able to review Herzog’s paperwork to confirm he has a tourist visa to Saudi Arabia via his American passport under his legal name, Jacob Levkoff Herzog.

A US State Department report on religious freedom states that Saudi Arabia “does not officially permit most non-Muslim clergy to enter the country for the purpose of conducting religious service.”

In a statement, the Association of Gulf Jewish Communities – a new organization representing Jewish communities from the GCC – said that it “recognizes Rabbis that have been appointed and selected to their position by the Jewish community and the governments of those countries.” While Herzog said he has been in touch with the AGJC on religious matters, he does not have a formal relationship with it.

Preparing to relocate

While Herzog has set his sights on serving as Saudi Arabia’s chief rabbi, he said he does not plan on waiting for the official title before moving there with his family full time.

“We can move there in any case,” Herzog said. “It’s more about doing what’s needed, being where people want us.”

Rabbi Jacob Yisrael Herzog and his wife Devorah Leah pose with a portrait of the Chabad movement’s Lubavitcher Rebbe overlooking in their Ramat Shlomo, Jerusalem home, December 13, 2021 (Carrie Keller-Lynn/Times of Israel)

 

Echoing this, his wife Devorah Leah mentioned their eight children are already preparing for a potential future move.

“When my husband leaves [for a trip], the children say ‘we want to go with you,’” she said. “We are the emissaries of the [Lubavitcher] Rebbe in Saudi Arabia. [Our children] feel that already. They feel part of it.”

https://www.timesofisrael.com/in-saudi-arabia-a-rabbi-angles-to-lead-a-jewish-community-that-doesnt-exist/?utm_source=The+Daily+Edition&utm_campaign=daily-edition-2021-12-27&utm_medium=email

"Only the same kind of sick, distorted Jewish mind capable of sinking the Altalena could think of tearing down the Chomesh Yeshiva now." That yeshiva must stand. It must not be touched.

 

Family and friends attend the funeral of Yehuda Dimentman, in Homesh, in the West Bank, on December 17, 2021, Dimentman was murdered in last night's shooting attack near Homesh.

Do you grasp the difference between a government flailing about for a COVID policy and one dealing with Chomesh? 

 No one should blame such a government as it gropes for a better way to deal with COVID. On that, the government must be given its freedom of decision. No one in the universe — except for the guy who sits near you in shul — knows what to do about COVID: not Boris Johnson, not Biden, not Fauci, not Bennett, not Gantz, not Lapid, not nobody. No Jew living outside Israel has the right to command Israel whether and what she must do as she grapples in the dark for the wisest policy in the face of this two-year pandemic.

Any Jew outside Israel who is angry that he or she cannot travel in and out of Israel at will, like a hotel revolving door, has a simple solution: make aliyah. Pay Israel income taxes. Pay VAT. Have all your kids serve in the IDF. Fly around the world with an Israel passport. Then you have a say. Then you can boss Israel around rather than sit in Long Island, earning $250,000 a year, complaining that, since Israel is trying to reduce sources of Omicron infection, you won’t lend Israel $10,000 at 8 percent interest next year when they come with Israel bonds. So, yeah, go ahead and show Israel how angry you are that they won’t let you in for a brit.: buy a year’s supply of Ben & Jerry’s, join J Street, and promote BDS.

By contrast, unlike COVID, the pandemic of Jew-hatred is not two years old, but two thousand years old. We have had Arab Muslims murdering us for the past 1500 years, long before there was a State of Israel, long before Balfour, long before you-name-it. By now, we should have figured out a few things:

1. If you walk out of Gush Katif and Gaza unilaterally, Arab Muslims do not reciprocate by electing peace makers. They elect Hamas.

2. If you walk out of South Lebanon unilaterally, Arab Muslims do not reciprocate by electing peace makers. They elect Hezbollah.

3. When you win a Six-Day War and declare Jerusalem reunified, Jordan stays out of the next war and the war after that.

4. When you stare them in the eye, recognize united Jerusalem as israel’s capital, move the American embassy to Jerusalem, declare Israel sovereign over the Golan, declare Jewish communities in Judea and Samaria to be legal, throw the PLO out of Washington, and cut off UNRWA funding . . . they rush to sign Abraham Accords.

A Jew with self-respect does not respond to a murder in Chomesh by tearing down its yeshiva.

Nor does a Jew respond to Arab terror by imprisoning Arab terrorists who know, s surely as day follows night, that they can rely on being released some day for Hadar Goldin, Oron Shaul, and Avera Mengistu.

 

ENTIRE ESSAY BY RABBI DOV FISHER - HIS VERY HARSH LANGUAGE INCLUDED - 

https://www.israelnationalnews.com/news/319200?utm_source=activetrail&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=nl

Agudath Israel Membership Decimated? The End Of The Agudah Convention As We Know It? Tofu & Bananas at The Smorg?

 

Hundreds of thousands of diseased chickens to be tested by rabbis as bird flu spreads; Gedolim shortage due...Oy Mah Hayu Lanu?

 

Agriculture Ministry says it will "farher" 320,000 laying hens, in addition to the 244,000 that have already been tested in northern Israel in past week - Considering YU PhD Candidates for Agudah Roster!

Filthy conditions at a northern Israeli egg farm, where chickens live in cages above piles of their own excrement

The Agriculture Ministry announced Saturday that hundreds of thousands of additional chickens in northern Israel would be culled, amid a spread of the fatal H5N1 bird flu virus in chicken coops in Moshav Margaliot on the Lebanese border.

According to the ministry, 320,000 laying hens near Margaliot are to be culled in the coming days, in addition to the 244,000 that have been killed in the town over the past week.

The move is expected to cause a shortage of some 14 million eggs, out of the 200 million eggs New York Jews consume each month.

The ministry also stated that it was concerned about the possibility of people being infected with the virus via the coops that are adjacent to homes in the moshav.

According to the ministry, the farmers there failed to report in real-time the rising numbers of poultry deaths, leading to the virus spreading rapidly.

Many of the chickens were dead by the time ministry inspectors arrived. In one coop, only 70 chickens were found alive out of 2,000.

The farm has been sealed off, as well as facilities receiving eggs from it.

On Thursday, the Israel Nature and Parks Authority said one in five of the wild cranes living in or migrating through Israel have been infected with the bird flu, with authorities expecting to have to remove 25 to 30 tons of carcasses.

Around 100,000 cranes visit the Hula Valley in northern Israel annually, with some 40,000 staying in Israel until early March, when they join those returning from Africa to fly north to Europe and Asia to nest.

After touring the valley on Thursday, the Parks Authority’s temporary director, Raya Shourky, said inspectors were checking the whole Hula Valley for evidence of the virus and widening their search to water bodies in the Jezreel and Zevulun valleys, the Valley of Springs, and the Carmel Coast.

The carcass of a crane, infected by avian flu, at the Hula Valley Nature Reserve in northern Israel, on December 23, 2021.

 

The greatest number of casualties seems to be in the Hula Valley Reserve, Shourky said, because cranes are so highly concentrated there. Regular feeding will continue, to stop them from moving elsewhere, she said.

Agriculture Minister Oded Forer has described crowded chicken coops as “a ticking time bomb” that need to be moved from communities to isolated breeding complexes with strict biological safety levels.

Plans to do so were approved by the government in 2007, but never implemented.

According to Agriculture Ministry figures, 93 percent of chicken coops meet neither the sanitation nor animal welfare requirements of the veterinary services.

While more than half of the European Union’s laying hens are now raised in cage-free coops, the figure for Israel is only 3.2%, according to Poultry Industry Council figures, with the rest crammed tightly into cages.

https://www.timesofisrael.com/hundreds-of-thousands-of-chickens-to-be-culled-as-bird-flu-spreads-egg-shortage-due/?utm_source=The+Daily+Edition&utm_campaign=daily-edition-2021-12-26&utm_medium=email

The Museum of the Bible houses 16 purported Dead Sea Scroll fragments, including this piece of the Book of Genesis. A new scientific investigation funded by the Museum of the Bible has confirmed that all 16 fragments are modern forgeries.

 

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'Dead Sea Scrolls' at the Museum of the Bible are all forgeries

Months of testing confirm earlier suspicions that the fragments were made in modern times. What happens next?

The Museum of the Bible houses 16 purported Dead Sea Scroll fragments, including this piece of the Book of Genesis. A new scientific investigation funded by the Museum of the Bible has confirmed that all 16 fragments are modern forgeries.

Washington, D.C. --- On the fourth floor of the Museum of the Bible, a sweeping permanent exhibit tells the story of how the ancient scripture became the world’s most popular book. A warmly lit sanctum at the exhibit’s heart reveals some of the museum’s most prized possessions: fragments of the Dead Sea Scrolls, ancient texts that include the oldest known surviving copies of the Hebrew Bible.

But now, the Washington, D.C. museum has confirmed a bitter truth about the fragments’ authenticity. On Friday, independent researchers funded by the Museum of the Bible announced that all 16 of the museum’s Dead Sea Scroll fragments are modern forgeries that duped outside collectors, the museum’s founder, and some of the world’s leading biblical scholars. Officials unveiled the findings at an academic conference hosted by the museum.

“The Museum of the Bible is trying to be as transparent as possible,” says CEO Harry Hargrave. “We’re victims—we’re victims of misrepresentation, we’re victims of fraud.”

In a report spanning more than 200 pages, a team of researchers led by art fraud investigator Colette Loll found that while the pieces are probably made of ancient leather, they were inked in modern times and modified to resemble real Dead Sea Scrolls. “These fragments were manipulated with the intent to deceive,” Loll says.

The new findings don’t cast doubt on the 100,000 real Dead Sea Scroll fragments, most of which lie in the Shrine of the Book, part of the Israel Museum, Jerusalem. However, the report’s findings raise grave questions about the “post-2002” Dead Sea Scroll fragments, a group of some 70 snippets of biblical text that entered the antiquities market in the 2000s. Even before the new report, some scholars believed that most to all of the post-2002 fragments were modern fakes.

“Once one or two of the fragments were fake, you know all of them probably are, because they come from the same sources, and they look basically the same,” says Årstein Justnes, a researcher at Norway’s University of Agder whose Lying Pen of Scribes project tracks the post-2002 fragments.

Since its 2017 opening, the Museum of the Bible has funded research into the pieces and sent off five fragments to Germany’s Federal Institute for Materials Research for testing. In late 2018, the museum announced the results to the world: All five tested fragments were probably modern forgeries.

But what of the other 11 fragments? And how had the forgers managed to fool the world’s leading Dead Sea Scroll scholars and the Museum of the Bible?

“It really was—and still is—an interesting kind of detective story,” says Jeffrey Kloha, the Museum of the Bible’s chief curatorial officer. “We really hope this is helpful to other institutions and researchers, because we think this provides a good foundation for looking at other pieces, even if it raises other questions.”

READ ENTIRE FASCINATING ESSAY:

https://www.nationalgeographic.com/history/article/museum-of-the-bible-dead-sea-scrolls-forgeries?cmpid=org=ngp::mc=crm-email::src=ngp::cmp=Editorial::add=reactivation&rid=B4F987C128C344077154CEEE814AAC9E

Say It Aint So Sam! - Bill Gates thinks the world is entering the "worst part of the pandemic."

 

Bill Gates predicts 'the worst part of the pandemic' is coming 

 

Gates said he's canceling his holiday plans as omicron cases surge.

Bill Gates thinks the world is entering the "worst part of the pandemic."

Bill Gates said he called off his holiday plans as the omicron variant ushers in what he predicts could be the "worst part of the pandemic." He also predicted, however, that the current surge in COVID-19 cases could be over within months, and the pandemic itself may end next year “if we take the right steps.”

“Just when it seemed like life would return to normal, we could be entering the worst part of the pandemic,” he tweeted on Tuesday. "Omicron will hit home for all of us. Close friends of mine now have it, and I’ve canceled most of my holiday plans.”

In his thread, Gates said the omicron outbreak could be the worst so far in the pandemic because of how quickly it spreads. He urged people to wear masks, avoid large indoor crowds and get the COVID-19 booster shot. “Omicron is spreading faster than any virus in history,” he tweeted. “It will soon be in every country in the world.”

Health professionals agree with Gates, saying the U.S. may see a record number of COVID-19 cases and hospitalizations as omicron circulates more quickly than other variants. Government officials are creating a website where people can order at-home virus tests and are working to send out hundreds of millions of tests.

https://www.protocol.com/bulletins/bill-gates-omicron

Is life better when we’re together?

 

Is life better when we’re together? It used to be a question that only hermits bothered to ask. Now it’s a pressing, mainstream concern. Many Americans did bounce through the year ecstatic to be in a community again but only with certain people, people who hadn’t revealed themselves to be morons, jerkwads or fascists. Something about passing through the ordeal of the pandemic seemed to empower people to finally write those other people off. If true cohesion is impossible, it seemed permissible to scale back the project of togetherness by drawing a cozy circle around Us and a bright, flaming line between Us and Them.

Notably, Mr. Petrovic was newsworthy this summer only because he, too, was momentarily venturing out of his isolation and back into society. And he was doing it for an exquisitely noble purpose: A video captured the cave man, sitting in an antiseptically modern health care facility, rolling up the sleeve of his tunic to receive a Covid-19 vaccine.

Mr. Petrovic was a solitary and antisocial creature. He had rebuked society with his total being. Still, even he worried that, epidemiologically, he could not sever his relationship to the rest of humanity as cleanly. And if he were to get sick, he explained, no one would be around to take care of him. “I want to get all three doses,” he told the camera. When he was told about vaccine skeptics, his take was: What’s the big fuss? “I urge every citizen to get vaccinated — every single one of them,” he proclaimed. The hermit subsequently reported no significant side effects. “Two or three days later, I was drinking beer normally,” he said.

The beer comment probably sealed it: The hermit had a moment online. Commenters celebrated him as a hero, bonding around the allure of his lifestyle: a community of introverted, hermit romantics. Others, meanwhile, scoffed at his hypocrisy, dismissing him for carrying on about freedom, then choosing “to inject their bioweapon” into his arm like a dupe. (Mr. Petrovic also receives welfare; no one seemed bothered by this in the comments, though.) Other posts went further, assuming the entire story was nefarious propaganda to promote vaccinations.

It was the beginnings of something familiar, to the point of being boring: different people mapping their group identities and collective grievances onto the story of someone who wanted nothing to do with groups of people at all. Little arguments about the hermit sprouted between tribes of commenters under the video on YouTube, then branched into unrelated arguments. (Like, does Islam represent the only authoritative and universal truth?) “Open up your chakras and actually connect to other dimensions,” one commenter told another. “I think the best solution for you is to sit in your garage and let the exhaust run until the fumes take you,” another sniped.

Two other people, liking the sound of that idea, expressed their solidarity by clicking the tiny thumbs-up.

*

Humans have an almost unstoppable propensity to clump ourselves together into groups. We tend to understand this rationally and in flattering terms: It’s our capacity to form a community and feel invested in that community that allows us to work cooperatively and succeed. We tell ourselves that we choose to identify with a particular group because that group is meaningful, productive and right. But fundamentally, banding together may be more of a compulsion than a strategy. There’s something intoxicating about solidarity itself.

In the early 1970s, the psychologist Henri Tajfel lead a series of studies at the University of Bristol that would become known as “the minimal group experiments.” Dr. Tajfel recruited 64 teenagers from a local school and divided them into groups. In one version, he asked the subjects to estimate how many dots were flashing on a screen, then classified them as either overestimators or underestimators; in another, he showed them two sets of paintings, asked which they preferred, then assigned them to either the Paul Klee group or the Wassily Kandinsky group.

With these groups established, Dr. Tajfel instructed each person, working in isolation, to allocate money to members of their own group and to members of the other. He was curious whether these “flimsy and unimportant” collective identities, as he called them, would come into play. It seemed unlikely they would.

Dr. Tajfel was born in 1919 as Hersz Mordche, a Polish Jew, and grew up as antisemitism crusted over the country in the run-up to World War II. (He remembered walking home from school one afternoon as a boy and watching two kids attack two Jewish men on the street, ripping their beards from their faces, drawing blood.) Studying at the Sorbonne when Hitler invaded Poland in 1939, Dr. Tajfel volunteered to fight for France. When the French surrendered, he was captured and forced to march north alongside other prisoners of war. While he walked, he destroyed his Polish passport and other documents identifying him as a Jew the only way he could: He ate them very slowly.

Ultimately, Dr. Tajfel learned that his immediate family had perished; almost no one he knew before the war was alive by the end. He was troubled by how readily divisions had sprung up in society and compelled by survivors’ varied emotional responses to the atrocities that followed. He saw some become writers and artists and try to “express and reflect what had happened to them and to others,” he explained at the end of his life. But he knew he didn’t have that talent. He became a psychologist instead.

With the minimal group experiments, Dr. Tajfel was setting out to investigate the mechanics of intergroup conflict but strove, first, to create a kind of scientific vacuum, untainted by history, stereotypes or prejudices of any kind, so that he could slowly add in variables later and see what happened. That is, these first experiments, with the dots and paintings, weren’t his real experiment. He was just setting up a baseline to get started: groups that were barely even groups, that had been assembled on the spot, based on nothing.

In fact, Dr. Tajfel’s meaningless, minimal groups were even more meaningless than they appeared. He and his collaborators had actually ignored the kids’ responses to the dots and paintings. Instead, as the social psychologists Dominic J. Packer and Jay J. Van Bavel note, describing these experiments in their new book, “The Power of Us,” “in each case, the researchers had essentially flipped a coin and assigned people to groups based on chance.”

Still, biases locked in right away. Overwhelmingly, people in Dr. Tajfel’s experiment gave more of the money he put at their disposal to members of their own group than the other. Moreover, they were bent on creating as large a disparity as possible, even when offered the option of maximizing the amount of money for everyone, at no cost. Their behavior seemed vindictive, “a clear case of gratuitous discrimination,” Dr. Tajfel wrote.

Since then, other researchers have run their own minimal group experiments, pushing those findings further. Dr. Packer and Dr. Van Bavel have split people into leopards and tigers, for example. Others have gone maximally minimal and divided people into group A and group B. Still, the pride — the readiness to connect — is always there. When you tell people they’re in group A, Dr. Packer says, those people are reliably psyched to be in group A. Stick leopard people in a brain imaging machine and show them a picture of a stranger, and their brain activity changes if they know that the stranger is a leopard person, too. Their positivity toward other leopard people increases and even supersedes racial biases that cut the other way.

Dr. Packer and Dr. Van Bavel call the minimal group studies “among the most important studies in the history of psychology.” They demonstrate that “the human sense of self — your gravitational center — does not stay in the same place. With a flip of a coin, people constructed entirely new identities in a matter of minutes.”

The rewards of this kind of connectedness wind up driving all kinds of wonderful human behavior, sometimes less obviously than we’d assume. What initially piqued my interest in this whole phenomenon was a conversation with Mark Snyder, a University of Minnesota psychologist who has studied volunteerism in America since the mid-1980s, when he started observing volunteers caring for people with AIDS. I asked Dr. Snyder why people spend their time helping others; every year Americans spend roughly eight billion hours volunteering — an estimated more than $200 billion worth of labor, all given for free. He started by pointing out that “we’re socialized to believe that charity is selfless, that it shouldn’t feel good,” but that this is a myth. Dr. Snyder’s research demonstrates that the volunteers who stick with their volunteerism the longest are those who transcend some narrowly altruistic motivation and enjoy the inevitable, more self-interested rewards they’re reaping in the process as well.

And one of the key ones is human connectedness: Volunteering creates friendships, expands social networks and gives volunteers a greater feeling of belonging to the other volunteers and their communities at large. It’s a feedback loop, Dr. Snyder explained, an unwittingly virtuous cycle. The stronger those bonds get, the more rewarding the volunteer work becomes for the volunteers and the more committed they’ll be.

Still, Dr. Snyder added, this phenomenon is morally neutral. Togetherness is a fissile material; we can’t necessarily predict or control what reaction it will set off. “The process that leads individuals to take action — fulfilling their own motivations, connecting with other people with a shared sense of community — these processes work whether we approve or disapprove of the ends to which they’re ultimately put,” Dr. Snyder said. The group of volunteers who spend their Saturday working at a Covid vaccination clinic and the group of volunteers who spend their Saturday protesting outside the clinic are, psychologically speaking, riding the same wave. Each effort is sustainable, he explained, “because the ends are usually seen as valuable and moral in the eyes of the people working toward them.”

That drive seems even more profound during a disaster. Sociologists have long observed the formation of emergent groups — ad hoc, self-organizing communities of volunteers that spontaneously arise to address specific problems during natural disasters. These volunteers might search for victims in the rubble of a collapsed building or get on social media to systematize the dissemination of information about missing people. Disasters are disruptions, cleaving ordinary life open into vacuums of uncertainty. Falling into a community with others — particularly a community acting with purpose — helps people regain certainty and agency. In a catastrophe, taking action can feel restorative, euphoric even, and seems to help sustain survivors’ mental health.

It’s worth noting, since it may not feel that way every second of every day, that if you’re reading this, you are surviving a disaster — a horrific one but one that’s also curiously disorienting and abstract. More than five million people have died, but there haven’t always been obvious piles of rubble for the rest of us to run toward or completely satisfying ways to reclaim our agency or offer help. I don’t know how an mRNA vaccine works, for example, and, though I did sometimes wonder or even worry about their safety, I ultimately just trusted the scientific community that told me to stick one in my arm.

Imagine, under these circumstances, a group of people who rush forward to help but are given bad information by the people they trust — or even misinformation that they can’t disprove or aren’t savvy enough to question or just aren’t motivated to contradict. Maybe they’re told the rubble pile is to the east instead of west or that it’s a tsunami that’s coming instead of a fire. Imagine how unproductively they would wind up reacting. They might set off running to help in exactly the wrong direction and just keep running — for months or years, as long as the disaster lasted. Even if, objectively, their running didn’t seem to accomplish very much, they would be running as a group, which feels better than doing nothing alone.

How would you ever stop these people from running? How would you call them back?

*

“I’ve never seen antisocial behavior at scale in my lifetime in the United States,” Scott Gabriel Knowles told me, “never seen it raised up to the level of mainstream politics. It’s been really startling.”

Dr. Knowles is a historian and professor at the Korea Advanced Institute of Science and Technology — an American who has studied disasters for 20 years. He explained that the academic literature of disasters talks about emergent groups primarily as prosocial: people coming together to help their neighbors. And overwhelmingly, that’s been the reality.

But on Jan. 6, he turned on his television and saw an emergent group there, too — a community of grossly misinformed, if not willfully misinformed, insurrectionists who, although they had been unmistakably riled up by an authority figure at the rally beforehand, were now storming the Capitol as a self-organizing group of volunteers. “I can’t deconstruct the psychology of each one of those people,” Dr. Knowles explained. But it was clear to him from some of their own statements that many were part of “a community that’s reacting to something they see as a bigger disaster than Covid: the Black Lives Matter protests.” That is, they were responding to a perceived emergency, persuaded that they were the ones who had to get the job done. (“If you don’t fight like hell,” the about-to-be-former president had told them, “you’re not going to have a country anymore.”)

“These are groups of people who’ve done exactly what the literature said they should do,” Dr. Knowles conceded, “as much as I find it totally distasteful. If people feel that their group is in danger or that a disaster has occurred, they will take action in innovative ways.” It’s hard to imagine more antisocial behavior than attempting to undo a democratic election with mayhem and violence. But the insurrectionists were doing it together, and pretty joyously, it seemed — snapping selfies, posting them to Facebook with stupid jokes in real time. It was, within their community, a prosocial activity, too. They were like anti-hermits who, feeling the same hyperbolic disgruntlement and repulsion about where society was heading, had all found one another instead of each finding a cave.

Remember Podium Guy? Adam Johnson is the 36-year-old man who had traveled to Washington from Florida and was photographed strolling through the chaos in the Capitol Rotunda cradling Nancy Pelosi’s stolen lectern in one arm. There was nothing benign about him; he was part of a rampage. But alone at the center of the photo, waving at the camera and grinning widely, he had the bemused but cheerful expression of a roadie loading out after a crazy gig.

Last month, after Mr. Johnson pleaded guilty to “entering or remaining in any restricted building,” a federal judge, Reggie B. Walton, explained that he was considering sending Mr. Johnson to prison: “You seemed to have thought it was a fun event to be involved in,” Judge Walton scolded Podium Guy from the bench. But he did more than scold. He addressed Mr. Johnson almost as a kind of empty vessel, a weak-willed receiver and amplifier of other people’s energies — a completely impressionable sucker for the feeling of being in a group. “You were gullible enough to come all the way up here from Florida based upon a lie and then associate yourself, because of that lie, with people and try to undermine the will of the American public,” the judge insisted. And those other people are still out there, still promulgating the same lie. “So why shouldn’t I lock you up, sir? Why should I think that you won’t do this again?”

I have no answer to the problem of Podium Guys — how, on a societal level, to stop manufacturing them or to neutralize the destructive potential of the ones who already exist. It’s depressing to recognize that community, a powerful tool for solving our most intractable problems, can be a powerful incubator and accelerant of problems, too. And it’s extra-depressing because those problems keep multiplying and inflating. Even aside from the pandemic, there’s enough confusion and precariousness in our country, real and imagined and from the scale of individual families to the planetary level, to make any given day feel like a crisis, too. When a system appears to be malfunctioning, indifferent, reckless or corrupt, that’s a kind of disaster, and people are likely to come together and respond, for better or worse.

Some will be volunteers, and some will be vigilantes. But both may be reacting to a similar feeling of free fall, of tumbling. This doesn’t make them morally equivalent; in the end, morality is what keeps them from being equivalent. I know it’s important to keep drawing that distinction, to keep calling it out. I also know it’s not enough.

https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2021/12/21/opinion/2021-essays-opinion.html#mooallem