Latest news with #EphraimMirvis
Yahoo
16 hours ago
- Politics
- Yahoo
Chief Rabbi: I'm witnessing first hand Iran's attempt to eliminate Jews
'We don't have a front row seat,' says the Chief Rabbi, when I suggest he is watching history unfold as he remains trapped in Israel, under Iranian fire. 'We are on the stage. Every single person in Israel right now is a target and that includes Palestinians, Arabs, people of all nationalities and religions. We are experiencing a direct attempt to wipe out the Jewish state.' Sir Ephraim Mirvis, who has been Chief Rabbi of the United Hebrew Congregations of the Commonwealth since 2013, should be in Britain, where he is the most prominent Jewish leader, heading the United Synagogue group of orthodox synagogues and representing the country's 270,000 Jews at state events. Sir Ephraim flew to Israel earlier this month for two 'simchas', or family celebrations, on a trip that was supposed to precede his participation in the Conference of European Rabbis in Munich this week. He was preparing for Shabbat on Friday morning when Israel announced it had bombed Iran's Natanz nuclear facility. With sunset fast approaching, news emerged of the deaths of three of Iran's military commanders: Hossein Salami, the commander-in-chief of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC), Mohammad Bagheri, the chief of staff of the armed forces, and Amir Ali Hajizadeh, the commander of the IRGC's Aerospace Forces. Like any orthodox Jew, the Chief Rabbi had switched off his mobile phone to observe the Sabbath, hours before a salvo of Iranian missiles lit up the sky above Tel Aviv – some breaching Israel's Iron Dome air defence system. Did he even realise what was going on? 'Yes we did. There is a radio station in Israel which respects the Shabbat laws, and it goes silent for the whole of the Jewish Sabbath. However, every time there was a need for people to know something, because it's a case of the saving of life, they would broadcast, and therefore we would be able to hear. 'However, we heard no reports as to the consequences of the attacks. Saturday was actually a very difficult day to endure.' Holed up with his wife Valerie and their family in Herzliya, a coastal town north of Tel Aviv, the Chief Rabbi could only anxiously wait until an hour after sunset on Saturday, when, in line with Jewish law, they could use electronic devices again and find out exactly what had happened. The couple have four sons and 17 grandchildren, some of whom live in Israel. Their daughter Liora died in 2011, aged 30, leaving behind her husband and two children. 'We needed to wait until 8.32pm – that time was etched into our minds, because that would be the time when we'd be able to hear what had transpired over the previous 25 hours.' With no indication when he can return to the UK, Mirvis is now effectively in lockdown and having to resort to Zoom meetings, like this remote interview. 'The comparison to Covid is quite a strong one,' he says, expressing disappointment that he has been separated from the community he leads in Britain. Isn't it much scarier than the pandemic, though, having to run for your life at all hours of the day and night? The softly spoken cleric calmly responds: 'Well, you see, this is not the first time that Israelis have been in such a situation. It's been going on for years and years continuously, prior to October 7. So taking cover in a shelter is a regular feature of life in Israel, and… I've needed to do this on quite a number of occasions when I've been a tourist here over the years. So there was hardly any element of surprise, only the question of what will be the extent of damage to human life and to infrastructure.' Describing the desperate dash to safety as soon as the sirens go off, the 68-year-old adds: 'Iran is purposefully using missiles which take 12 minutes, and therefore there isn't a lot of time. You basically have four minutes [after Israel's sirens ring out] so there's a scramble. All modern houses are fitted with a safe room but many people living in older houses don't have such a room in their home and therefore need to go to a public shelter nearby. That has been exceptionally challenging, and very often, they don't reach that public shelter in time. That has resulted in some of the casualties in Israel over recent days.' The Chief Rabbi has been able to make use of a safe room in the home in which he is staying. 'You come into the safe room, you close the door, and then you wait for a message to say all clear. And that can take anything from 20 minutes to an hour. That's basically the rhythm of life. And it can happen at any time of the day, 24/7, and it is highly disruptive for people of all ages, particularly children who don't really know what's going on. This is a time of deep anxiety.' The Chief Rabbi says that his experience has renewed his focus on the ordeal of the 53 hostages who remain in captivity in Gaza. 'It's now 622 days they've been kept in the most horrific of conditions. Now we're concentrating on Israel and Iran, we shouldn't for one moment forget their plight. That's been foremost in my mind. The inconvenience that we're facing is minimal compared to the suffering of many other people.' Does he include Palestinians in that – and Iranians currently taking shelter from the missiles raining down on Tehran? Pointing out that Israel's primary targets are 'military or people responsible for their nuclear program', Mirvis says: 'We are saddened by the loss of innocent civilian life in Iran, in the same way as we have been saddened about the loss of innocent civilian life in Gaza, because that has not been Israel's target. 'My heart goes out to the Iranian people, because they've been suffering for decades under the regime that rules them. I really hope that one of the consequences of this will be a decidedly better life for Iranians.' Jews, however, are 'awfully aware' that they are currently 'a target to be wiped out together with this entire state'. 'It's plain, it's straightforward. I'm mystified as to why so many other people out there aren't really getting the reality of what is transpiring and why it is necessary for Israel to do what she's doing. This is not a war of choice that Israel is engaged in. It's a war of necessity.' But is it hard to process the bloodshed, especially as a man of faith who has made it his mission in office to bring religious communities together? 'The reality of innocent human suffering is something which I'm finding very difficult, because any person who has a heart within themselves must reach out with a lot of pain in our hearts to the suffering of innocent people at this time, and that is why we in our Jewish community in the UK have mentioned the plight of innocent Palestinians continuously. We, the Jewish people, place peace at the centre of our lives. The word 'shalom', peace, is the most important word in all of our prayers, in all of our ceremonies is what we pray for, what we yearn for, what we work towards.' Born in Johannesburg, South Africa, in 1956, the son of rabbi Lionel Mirvis, the Chief Rabbi grew up in Benoni, a Hebrew named town on the East Rand in Gauteng. His father preached against the apartheid system, and visited political prisoners held on Robben Island, while his mother Freida was the principal of the Athlone teacher training college, which was then the country's sole college for training black pre-school teachers. I wonder, in light of his liberally-minded upbringing in South Africa, what he makes of accusations by critics such as Amnesty International that Israel is an 'apartheid' state that is now carrying out a 'genocide' in Gaza. 'Well, it is absolutely ridiculous and so wrong,' insists Mirvis. 'If genocide is going to be used within the current context, it's what Iran is planning. It's what Hamas started to do on Oct 7 2023; that is genuine genocide. 'As far as Israel is concerned, it amounts to a blood libel against the Jewish state. Having grown up in South Africa, I know what apartheid was about. I recall how there were ambulances for white people and ambulances for people of colour, and one ambulance wasn't allowed to pick up somebody else of a different colour, just really cruel.' Conversely, he argues, Israelis have always integrated well with Arabs, pointing out that his late daughter, Liora, who died after being diagnosed with colon cancer, was treated at Hadassah Hospital in Jerusalem by Professor Ahmed Eid, a Muslim. And what of the criticism that Israel's Right-wing prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu continues to act disproportionately? Describing Israel as a 'vibrant democracy', the Chief Rabbi points out that 'even the official opposition led by (Yair) Lapid, who has been so critical of Israel's government, has publicly announced his full support for Israel's government at this time, and that is because every Israeli knows the reality this is a war for survival.' He adds: 'Proportionality is an important consideration. As opposed to the impression that is often given about Israel being in breach of international humanitarian law, God forbid, and going for innocents, I've heard so much from so many people who have been in Gaza, and are active now in Iran, that in fact, the reality of what's happening is that Israel is fighting a war in a most ethical manner.' Mirvis says he has family members serving in the Israeli Defence Force (IDF). 'They are doing what is responsible as a citizen of Israel at a time when the state, its very existence, is being threatened.' Yet while the IDF may have command over the skies of Iran, Israel has been losing the propaganda war, particularly on social media. The problem has been particularly prevalent in the UK, where marches have featured support for Hamas and Hezbollah, protests against airstrikes on the Houthis, and, most recently, flag-waving pledges of solidarity with the Iranian regime. Credit: X/@PSCupdates Agreeing 'Iran is the head of a monstrous being, the tentacles of which are Hamas and Hezbollah and the Houthis and others', the Chief Rabbi warns that while Israel is the current target, Europe will be next. 'There is so much that Israel is doing which is not being fully appreciated,' he says, citing Israel's 1981 attack on the Osirak nuclear reactor in Iraq, and its 2007 destruction of a suspected Syrian nuclear reactor located in the Deir ez-Zor region as previous examples of its willingness to take one for the team. 'What Israel is doing is not just for Israel's sake, it's for all of our Western civilisation.' As for social media, he describes as 'masterful' Hamas's weaponisation of the 'genocide' smear. 'Israel has never been good at what Israelis call Hasbara, which is explaining herself. I think that many in Israel acknowledge that this has developed into a weakness, and more should have been invested in this, because it's not only important to do what you believe is right, but perception is also important.' Artificial Intelligence is also fuelling online anti-Semitism, he argues. 'Social media provides a platform for anti-Semites to say what they like and for people to read it. And people are far more ready to express their negativity on social media than they are their positivity, and therefore the most horrific statements are being issued, outlandish and totally false, and nobody is there to check up on it or to correct it.' And what of so-called 'useful idiots' in the public eye like Gary Lineker, who was finally forced to resign from the BBC last month after sharing an anti-Semitic Instagram post, and Dawn French, who apologised after posting a video on X appearing to mock the victims of the October 7 attacks? While reluctant to directly criticise either celebrity, he says: 'In our Jewish tradition, we tell a story of a man who came to a rabbi and he said, 'I feel so bad. I've been guilty of libel. I've been spreading falsehoods about people, please can you advise me, how can I repent?' And the rabbi said, 'OK, there is only one way for you to repent, and that is, go and take a box, put hundreds of feathers in it, stand on the top of a hill on a windy day and allow all the feathers to leave the box. After one hour, go and collect all the feathers, put them back into the box.' And the man said, 'but that's impossible.' And the rabbi said, 'that's my answer to you'. 'That's the impact of social media. Even when there is a correction or an apology, it hardly goes any way towards removing that initial impression from people's minds. Responsibility is called for. People, think before you press the 'click' button, because once out, you can't put it back in.' While characteristically positive about the fate of Israelis, who he says are 'filled with fortitude, exceptionally positive and also united,' the Chief Rabbi remains concerned about British Jews. Last month, a survey found that 81 per cent felt the need to conceal their Judaism in public, following a surge in anti-Semitic incidents since October 2023. Although there has not been a mass exodus to Israel since the October 7 attacks, several surveys have reflected an increase in the number of British Jews considering settling in Israel – known as 'making Aliyah' – despite the ongoing threat from Iran and its proxies. 'British Jews have found life since October 7 exceptionally difficult and sometimes even traumatic. The reality right now, is that if one issues a statement which is anti-Zionist, it's an attack on Jewish people and Judaism. It amounts to anti-Semitism. And when there is an unjustified attack, verbal attack, or whatever it is, on Israel at this time, then it very quickly can become effectively an attack on Jews, and Israel's vulnerability is the vulnerability of Jews globally. 'When governments adopt policies which are unjustifiably anti-Israel, then that contributes to a tone within our societies which strengthens the hands of anti-Semites and does not play out to the benefit of the Jewish communities in those countries.' The Jerusalem Post recently accused Sir Keir Starmer of hypocrisy after imposing sanctions on Israeli ministers Bezalel Smotrich and Itamar Ben-Gvir. But the Chief Rabbi is far too diplomatic to be drawn into a row with the Prime Minister, whose wife Victoria is Jewish. Following the attack on Iran, the Community Security Trust, which provides security to the Jewish community, bolstered measures at UK synagogues. 'We know there are Iranian agents in the UK right now,' says Mirvis. 'We know that an attack on a Jewish community in the North of England was foiled last year. We know that there was a planned attack on the Israeli Embassy in London just a month ago. We are concerned about the future for our children and our grandchildren. But this is a global phenomenon, the intensification of Jew hatred. The threat is real but is not just to Jews, it's to our entire society.' Keen to end on a hopeful note, the Chief Rabbi insists I point out that the altruism currently on display in Israel, as people share their safe rooms with their neighbours, extends to the people of Iran and Gaza too. 'I have spoken to numerous former hostages and the families of current hostages and they all say the same thing, 'we only want the best for our Arab neighbours'. That is what people here hold in their hearts. 'May God bless us all that further to these very significant days of biblical proportions may we achieve and enjoy the peace that we pray for and long for all the time. It's not going to happen today or tomorrow, but I genuinely believe that a consequence of the current conflict will be a better world.' Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
Telegraph
18 hours ago
- Politics
- Telegraph
Chief Rabbi: I'm witnessing first hand Iran's attempt to eliminate Jews
'We don't have a front row seat,' says the Chief Rabbi, when I suggest he is watching history unfold as he remains trapped in Israel, under Iranian fire. 'We are on the stage. Every single person in Israel right now is a target and that includes Palestinians, Arabs, people of all nationalities and religions. We are experiencing a direct attempt to wipe out the Jewish state.' Sir Ephraim Mirvis, who has been Chief Rabbi of the United Hebrew Congregations of the Commonwealth since 2013, should be in Britain, where he is the most prominent Jewish leader, heading the United Synagogue group of orthodox synagogues and representing the country's 270,000 Jews at state events. Sir Ephraim flew to Israel earlier this month for two 'simchas', or family celebrations, on a trip that was supposed to precede his participation in the Conference of European Rabbis in Munich this week. He was preparing for Shabbat on Friday morning when Israel announced it had bombed Iran's Natanz nuclear facility. With sunset fast approaching, news emerged of the deaths of three of Iran's military commanders: Hossein Salami, the commander-in-chief of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC), Mohammad Bagheri, the chief of staff of the armed forces, and Amir Ali Hajizadeh, the commander of the IRGC's Aerospace Forces. Like any orthodox Jew, the Chief Rabbi had switched off his mobile phone to observe the Sabbath, hours before a salvo of Iranian missiles lit up the sky above Tel Aviv – some breaching Israel's Iron Dome air defence system. 'A very difficult day to endure' Did he even realise what was going on? 'Yes we did. There is a radio station in Israel which respects the Shabbat laws, and it goes silent for the whole of the Jewish Sabbath. However, every time there was a need for people to know something, because it's a case of the saving of life, they would broadcast, and therefore we would be able to hear. 'However, we heard no reports as to the consequences of the attacks. Saturday was actually a very difficult day to endure.' Holed up with his wife Valerie and their family in Herzliya, a coastal town north of Tel Aviv, the Chief Rabbi could only anxiously wait until an hour after sunset on Saturday, when, in line with Jewish law, they could use electronic devices again and find out exactly what had happened. The couple have four sons and 17 grandchildren, some of whom live in Israel. Their daughter Liora died in 2011, aged 30, leaving behind her husband and two children. 'We needed to wait until 8.32pm – that time was etched into our minds, because that would be the time when we'd be able to hear what had transpired over the previous 25 hours.' With no indication when he can return to the UK, Mirvis is now effectively in lockdown and having to resort to Zoom meetings, like this remote interview. 'The comparison to Covid is quite a strong one,' he says, expressing disappointment that he has been separated from the community he leads in Britain. Isn't it much scarier than the pandemic, though, having to run for your life at all hours of the day and night? The softly spoken cleric calmly responds: 'Well, you see, this is not the first time that Israelis have been in such a situation. It's been going on for years and years continuously, prior to October 7. So taking cover in a shelter is a regular feature of life in Israel, and… I've needed to do this on quite a number of occasions when I've been a tourist here over the years. So there was hardly any element of surprise, only the question of what will be the extent of damage to human life and to infrastructure.' Describing the desperate dash to safety as soon as the sirens go off, the 68-year-old adds: 'Iran is purposefully using missiles which take 12 minutes, and therefore there isn't a lot of time. You basically have four minutes [after Israel's sirens ring out] so there's a scramble. All modern houses are fitted with a safe room but many people living in older houses don't have such a room in their home and therefore need to go to a public shelter nearby. That has been exceptionally challenging, and very often, they don't reach that public shelter in time. That has resulted in some of the casualties in Israel over recent days.' The Chief Rabbi has been able to make use of a safe room in the home in which he is staying. 'This is a time of deep anxiety' 'You come into the safe room, you close the door, and then you wait for a message to say all clear. And that can take anything from 20 minutes to an hour. That's basically the rhythm of life. And it can happen at any time of the day, 24/7, and it is highly disruptive for people of all ages, particularly children who don't really know what's going on. This is a time of deep anxiety.' The Chief Rabbi says that his experience has renewed his focus on the ordeal of the 53 hostages who remain in captivity in Gaza. 'It's now 622 days they've been kept in the most horrific of conditions. Now we're concentrating on Israel and Iran, we shouldn't for one moment forget their plight. That's been foremost in my mind. The inconvenience that we're facing is minimal compared to the suffering of many other people.' Does he include Palestinians in that – and Iranians currently taking shelter from the missiles raining down on Tehran? Pointing out that Israel's primary targets are 'military or people responsible for their nuclear program', Mirvis says: 'We are saddened by the loss of innocent civilian life in Iran, in the same way as we have been saddened about the loss of innocent civilian life in Gaza, because that has not been Israel's target. 'My heart goes out to the Iranian people, because they've been suffering for decades under the regime that rules them. I really hope that one of the consequences of this will be a decidedly better life for Iranians.' Jews, however, are 'awfully aware' that they are currently 'a target to be wiped out together with this entire state'. 'It's plain, it's straightforward. I'm mystified as to why so many other people out there aren't really getting the reality of what is transpiring and why it is necessary for Israel to do what she's doing. This is not a war of choice that Israel is engaged in. It's a war of necessity.' But is it hard to process the bloodshed, especially as a man of faith who has made it his mission in office to bring religious communities together? 'The reality of innocent human suffering is something which I'm finding very difficult, because any person who has a heart within themselves must reach out with a lot of pain in our hearts to the suffering of innocent people at this time, and that is why we in our Jewish community in the UK have mentioned the plight of innocent Palestinians continuously. We, the Jewish people, place peace at the centre of our lives. The word 'shalom', peace, is the most important word in all of our prayers, in all of our ceremonies is what we pray for, what we yearn for, what we work towards.' Born in Johannesburg, South Africa, in 1956, the son of rabbi Lionel Mirvis, the Chief Rabbi grew up in Benoni, a Hebrew named town on the East Rand in Gauteng. His father preached against the apartheid system, and visited political prisoners held on Robben Island, while his mother Freida was the principal of the Athlone teacher training college, which was then the country's sole college for training black pre-school teachers. 'Israel is fighting a war in a most ethical manner' I wonder, in light of his liberally-minded upbringing in South Africa, what he makes of accusations by critics such as Amnesty International that Israel is an 'apartheid' state that is now carrying out a 'genocide' in Gaza. 'Well, it is absolutely ridiculous and so wrong,' insists Mirvis. 'If genocide is going to be used within the current context, it's what Iran is planning. It's what Hamas started to do on Oct 7 2023; that is genuine genocide. 'As far as Israel is concerned, it amounts to a blood libel against the Jewish state. Having grown up in South Africa, I know what apartheid was about. I recall how there were ambulances for white people and ambulances for people of colour, and one ambulance wasn't allowed to pick up somebody else of a different colour, just really cruel.' Conversely, he argues, Israelis have always integrated well with Arabs, pointing out that his late daughter, Liora, who died after being diagnosed with colon cancer, was treated at Hadassah Hospital in Jerusalem by Professor Ahmed Eid, a Muslim. And what of the criticism that Israel's Right-wing prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu continues to act disproportionately? Describing Israel as a 'vibrant democracy', the Chief Rabbi points out that 'even the official opposition led by (Yair) Lapid, who has been so critical of Israel's government, has publicly announced his full support for Israel's government at this time, and that is because every Israeli knows the reality this is a war for survival.' He adds: 'Proportionality is an important consideration. As opposed to the impression that is often given about Israel being in breach of international humanitarian law, God forbid, and going for innocents, I've heard so much from so many people who have been in Gaza, and are active now in Iran, that in fact, the reality of what's happening is that Israel is fighting a war in a most ethical manner.' Mirvis says he has family members serving in the Israeli Defence Force (IDF). 'They are doing what is responsible as a citizen of Israel at a time when the state, its very existence, is being threatened.' Yet while the IDF may have command over the skies of Iran, Israel has been losing the propaganda war, particularly on social media. The problem has been particularly prevalent in the UK, where marches have featured support for Hamas and Hezbollah, protests against airstrikes on the Houthis, and, most recently, flag-waving pledges of solidarity with the Iranian regime. Agreeing 'Iran is the head of a monstrous being, the tentacles of which are Hamas and Hezbollah and the Houthis and others', the Chief Rabbi warns that while Israel is the current target, Europe will be next. 'There is so much that Israel is doing which is not being fully appreciated,' he says, citing Israel's 1981 attack on the Osirak nuclear reactor in Iraq, and its 2007 destruction of a suspected Syrian nuclear reactor located in the Deir ez-Zor region as previous examples of its willingness to take one for the team. 'What Israel is doing is not just for Israel's sake, it's for all of our Western civilisation.' How social media emboldens anti-Semites As for social media, he describes as 'masterful' Hamas's weaponisation of the 'genocide' smear. 'Israel has never been good at what Israelis call Hasbara, which is explaining herself. I think that many in Israel acknowledge that this has developed into a weakness, and more should have been invested in this, because it's not only important to do what you believe is right, but perception is also important.' Artificial Intelligence is also fuelling online anti-Semitism, he argues. 'Social media provides a platform for anti-Semites to say what they like and for people to read it. And people are far more ready to express their negativity on social media than they are their positivity, and therefore the most horrific statements are being issued, outlandish and totally false, and nobody is there to check up on it or to correct it.' And what of so-called 'useful idiots' in the public eye like Gary Lineker, who was finally forced to resign from the BBC last month after sharing an anti-Semitic Instagram post, and Dawn French, who apologised after posting a video on X appearing to mock the victims of the October 7 attacks? While reluctant to directly criticise either celebrity, he says: 'In our Jewish tradition, we tell a story of a man who came to a rabbi and he said, 'I feel so bad. I've been guilty of libel. I've been spreading falsehoods about people, please can you advise me, how can I repent?' And the rabbi said, 'OK, there is only one way for you to repent, and that is, go and take a box, put hundreds of feathers in it, stand on the top of a hill on a windy day and allow all the feathers to leave the box. After one hour, go and collect all the feathers, put them back into the box.' And the man said, 'but that's impossible.' And the rabbi said, 'that's my answer to you'. 'That's the impact of social media. Even when there is a correction or an apology, it hardly goes any way towards removing that initial impression from people's minds. Responsibility is called for. People, think before you press the 'click' button, because once out, you can't put it back in.' While characteristically positive about the fate of Israelis, who he says are 'filled with fortitude, exceptionally positive and also united,' the Chief Rabbi remains concerned about British Jews. Last month, a survey found that 81 per cent felt the need to conceal their Judaism in public, following a surge in anti-Semitic incidents since October 2023. Although there has not been a mass exodus to Israel since the October 7 attacks, several surveys have reflected an increase in the number of British Jews considering settling in Israel – known as 'making Aliyah' – despite the ongoing threat from Iran and its proxies. Anti-Zionism 'amounts to anti-Semitism' 'British Jews have found life since October 7 exceptionally difficult and sometimes even traumatic. The reality right now, is that if one issues a statement which is anti-Zionist, it's an attack on Jewish people and Judaism. It amounts to anti-Semitism. And when there is an unjustified attack, verbal attack, or whatever it is, on Israel at this time, then it very quickly can become effectively an attack on Jews, and Israel's vulnerability is the vulnerability of Jews globally. 'When governments adopt policies which are unjustifiably anti-Israel, then that contributes to a tone within our societies which strengthens the hands of anti-Semites and does not play out to the benefit of the Jewish communities in those countries.' The Jerusalem Post recently accused Sir Keir Starmer of hypocrisy after imposing sanctions on Israeli ministers Bezalel Smotrich and Itamar Ben-Gvir. But the Chief Rabbi is far too diplomatic to be drawn into a row with the Prime Minister, whose wife Victoria is Jewish. Following the attack on Iran, the Community Security Trust, which provides security to the Jewish community, bolstered measures at UK synagogues. 'We know there are Iranian agents in the UK right now,' says Mirvis. 'We know that an attack on a Jewish community in the North of England was foiled last year. We know that there was a planned attack on the Israeli Embassy in London just a month ago. We are concerned about the future for our children and our grandchildren. But this is a global phenomenon, the intensification of Jew hatred. The threat is real but is not just to Jews, it's to our entire society.' Keen to end on a hopeful note, the Chief Rabbi insists I point out that the altruism currently on display in Israel, as people share their safe rooms with their neighbours, extends to the people of Iran and Gaza too. 'I have spoken to numerous former hostages and the families of current hostages and they all say the same thing, 'we only want the best for our Arab neighbours'. That is what people here hold in their hearts. 'May God bless us all that further to these very significant days of biblical proportions may we achieve and enjoy the peace that we pray for and long for all the time. It's not going to happen today or tomorrow, but I genuinely believe that a consequence of the current conflict will be a better world.'
Telegraph
4 days ago
- Politics
- Telegraph
Britain's Chief Rabbi stranded in Israel
The UK's Chief Rabbi has been left stranded in Israel amid Iranian missile strikes. Ephraim Mirvis had been expected to deliver a keynote address at the Conference of European Rabbis in Munich this week, but has been unable to board any flights to Europe. He has remained in Herzliya, near Tel Aviv, where he has been forced to shelter from missile attacks. Many countries across the Middle East have been forced to close their airspace or greatly reduce the number of flights amid the ongoing conflict between Israel and Iran. Tens of thousands of passengers have been left stranded. Speaking via videocall to the Jewish News, the Chief Rabbi described the constant alarms going off in Israel. 'We've had four days and nights of sirens,' he said. 'They've gone off three times a night on average. I've lost count. 'It's not easy, but being here with family brings home what ordinary Israelis are going through. As an average man, woman or child, you are the target. Iran is literally trying to kill us.' The Chief Rabbi, who is unsure when he will be able to return to the UK, criticised Iran for targeting civilians, saying: 'This couldn't be further from what Israel is doing. Israel is going after military targets and key personnel. Iran is trying to murder civilians.' Last week, Israel launched a major attack, striking Tehran, the Iranian capital, and killing top military officials and nuclear scientists as well as hitting critical infrastructure. Iran has fired ballistic missiles in retaliation. Amid the bombardment, the Chief Rabbi praised the unity among Israeli citizens and described the atmosphere as 'inspirational'. 'This is one of the great features of the Jewish people – the unity, the strength, the shared pride. I just wish we could preserve that feeling outside of times of crisis,' he said. 'There are people without safe rooms, without shelters. But so many have opened their homes to others, to family and even to strangers. 'The morale is phenomenal. There's been so much damage, so many injuries and deaths. Everyone here either knows or is related to someone affected. But I haven't heard a single person suggest that Israel is doing the wrong thing. From the far Right to the far Left, everyone knows this is a war for survival. 'What other country do you know that puts on emergency flights into a war zone because citizens are demanding to come home? It's almost unheard of.' In a message to Jews living in Britain, he said: 'We share in Israel's pain and struggle. Our thoughts, our prayers, and our efforts are with them. And Israelis know this. They've felt our presence, our support, and our generosity ever since Oct 7. 'I want them to know they are an inspiration to us. We will get through this, and we will be stronger for it. Am Yisrael Chai.' Earlier on Tuesday, the Israeli military said its forces struck several sites in western Iran, hitting 'dozens' of missile launchers. On Monday, the Islamic Republic vowed that its forthcoming attack would rain down '20-fold' compared to initial retaliation on Friday night.
Yahoo
06-05-2025
- General
- Yahoo
I saw Bergen-Belsen through the eyes of a 94-year-old survivor returning for the first time
Twenty-five years ago, as I left Auschwitz, I was certain I would never set foot in a concentration camp again. As the granddaughter of a survivor, I felt a duty to witness and to honour – but I knew that what I saw during those few days in Poland would remain etched in my memory forever. And I was right. I remember so clearly stepping into those cramped barracks, seeing the blue residue of Zyklon B on the gas chamber walls, walking the railway tracks that had carried thousands of Jews on a catastrophic one-way journey. Certain memories time cannot erode. Yet fast forward a few decades, and I find myself visiting a concentration camp again – Bergen-Belsen. This time, my motivation is not to see, but to hear – from survivors themselves. The opportunity to visit the camps alongside those who lived through those dark chapters of history is becoming ever more rare. But to mark the 80th anniversary of its liberation by British troops – and ahead of VE Day – survivors (as well as dignitaries including Deputy Prime Minister Angela Rayner and Chief Rabbi Sir Ephraim Mirvis) have gathered at the former concentration camp. Among them are Bergen-Belsen survivors Mala Tribich and Susan Pollack, both gravely ill with malnutrition and typhus when they were liberated in April 1945. Susan, 14 at the time, has never returned to Bergen-Belsen – until today. She still remembers that moment of liberation in painful detail. 'I was starving, and I wasn't able to walk any more,' she tells me, her eyes watery with age and memory. 'So I crawled out [of the barracks]. I crawled out to die. There were so many rotting bodies to be seen everywhere.' Her tone softens: 'Then a pair of gentle hands lifted me up. And who was that? A British soldier.' Does she remember what went through her mind at that moment? 'It was a miracle,' she says. At 94, she is still a walking miracle. When I first meet her, it is 6am and she is striding through Stansted Airport clutching a stick that seems to be struggling to keep up with her. She's resplendent, even at such an ungodly hour, in a pretty pink pullover and matching lipstick. We are flying to Hanover and then driving the hour-long journey to Bergen-Belsen as part of the UK delegation organised by Ajex (the Jewish Military Association). Eighty years ago, when the British freed the people from that hell on earth, they didn't just bring skeletons back from the brink of death; they restored humanity and dignity. As a British Jew, it's a piece of history that fills me with both pride and gratitude. The first troops to enter the camp were from the 63rd Anti-Tank Regiment, Royal Artillery, under the command of Lt Col Richard Taylor, accompanied by a loudspeaker truck from the Intelligence Corps. Amongst them was Sgt Norman Turgel, a Jewish officer in the British army. His son, sitting alongside me at the ceremony today, tells the story of how Norman came across a young woman in the camp, who, despite her own unbearable grief and frailty, was helping to nurse other survivors. 'That woman was my mother,' he says. 'They formed a bond that turned into love, something almost unimaginable in a place built for death.' Six weeks later they were married – his mother, Gina, wearing a wedding dress sewed from British military silks, gifted from Norman's comrades. Meanwhile, British veteran Stanley Fisher from the West Midlands, who was unable to make the journey (he's 100 years old), recalls his experience in a message. 'I fought through France and all the way to northern Germany, eventually stationed very close to the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp where I witnessed horrors that have stayed with me all my life.' By the time Bergen-Belsen was liberated, around 70,000 people had already died there, mainly due to disease or starvation. Albrecht Weinberg, a 100-year-old survivor from Germany, remembers the moment British soldiers arrived. He had been deported to Bergen-Belsen on a wagon. 'Our bodies were tipped out,' he says. 'Two days later, a tank drove in. I thought, 'Now I'll finally be freed by death', but it was British soldiers coming to liberate us.' He was a 20-year-old man at the time, but weighed only 4st 7lb. Over afternoon refreshments, Susan explains what perhaps needs no explanation – why she has never returned. 'Bergen-Belsen, for me, was a place of death,' she tells me, leaning in, her voice low, her words hesitant. 'Of suffering.' Today, very little of the camp remains. The site is barren, save for a memorial obelisk, but grass mounds now mark the locations of mass graves, with thousands buried beneath each. Susan shares a memory from her arrival here in 1944. Among the 'walking skeletons,' she recognised an old friend and neighbour from her hometown of Felsőgöd in Hungary. Susan's father had been taken by the Nazis early in the war, and she had been separated from her mother and brother while at Auschwitz. So the familiar face must have been a comfort to that teenage girl, and the memory still swirls in her mind more than 80 years later. 'She recognised me and asked, 'Do you think I'm going to survive?' The following day, I went back to see her, but she had lice all over her.' In the camp, lice spread typhus. A look tells me what I need not ask. 'Very few survived in Bergen-Belsen,' she says simply. Susan (then Zsuzsanna Blau) was one of those who did – just – but she was alone. More than 50 members of her family had been murdered. She later discovered her mother had been gassed at Auschwitz. Her brother survived but never mentally recovered. He had been made to work as a Sonderkommando (work units made up of death camp prisoners), shovelling dead bodies from the gas chambers to the ovens. Recalling those early years after liberation, Susan says: 'They were very difficult times. Here I am, a youngster. I don't speak English. I have no support and no financial help because I had no relatives.' She was sent to Sweden to recover and was then taken to Canada, where she met fellow survivor Abraham Pollack. 'He liked me. Then we became friends. And we shared many similar experiences, so we understood each other.' Susan was 18 when they got married but says they didn't know many people; her husband had to pay two people at work to be their witnesses. 'I'm here now because of my husband. He used to work two shifts every day,' she says. Her philosophy has always been to look forward. She had three children and in 1963 the family moved to London, where she worked as a librarian and eventually got a degree in history, aged 60. It was only later in life she started to work with organisations like the Holocaust Educational Trust to share her experiences and educate. I know little of my own family's experiences, one generation always wanting to protect the next from their horrific memories, except that my grandfather Brian, originally from Pabianice in Poland, was in Buchenwald when he was liberated. He passed away when my father was 14, so I never had the chance to meet him. My grandmother, also from Pabianice, moved to London before the war, but her mother and sister survived Auschwitz, passing off as sisters. One of the only details of their experience that I know is that they lived in relentless fear – not only day-to-day, but second-to-second. They knew any moment could be their last. My grandmother's other sister, Yadja, was gassed in a lorry, and most of the large extended family perished. But her cousin, Helen Aronson, was one of the few survivors of the Łódź Ghetto – she celebrated her 98th birthday last week. She survived by hiding underground when the Nazis came to 'liquidate' the ghetto. Like Susan, every life to emerge from those camps was miraculous. Being part of that legacy means I will always feel gratitude for being here, but it also feels like it comes with responsibility – to ensure memories are kept alive and lessons are never forgotten. As we file off the plane in London, I take a moment to sit with Susan, still perky at the end of an 18-hour day. With a warm smile and an invitation to pop over to her house for tea, she tells me she's happy she made the decision to go. I am too – and I hope to help keep the memories she's shared with me alive. Like that visit to Auschwitz 25 years ago, Susan's story of survival will always be with me. Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
Telegraph
06-05-2025
- General
- Telegraph
I saw Bergen-Belsen through the eyes of a 94-year-old survivor returning for the first time
Twenty-five years ago, as I left Auschwitz, I was certain I would never set foot in a concentration camp again. As the granddaughter of a survivor, I felt a duty to witness and to honour – but I knew that what I saw during those few days in Poland would remain etched in my memory forever. And I was right. I remember so clearly stepping into those cramped barracks, seeing the blue residue of Zyklon B on the gas chamber walls, walking the railway tracks that had carried thousands of Jews on a catastrophic one-way journey. Certain memories time cannot erode. Yet fast forward a few decades, and I find myself visiting a concentration camp again – Bergen-Belsen. This time, my motivation is not to see, but to hear – from survivors themselves. The opportunity to visit the camps alongside those who lived through those dark chapters of history is becoming ever more rare. But to mark the 80th anniversary of its liberation by British troops – and ahead of VE Day – survivors (as well as dignitaries including Deputy Prime Minister Angela Rayner and Chief Rabbi Sir Ephraim Mirvis) have gathered at the former concentration camp. Among them are Bergen-Belsen survivors Mala Tribich and Susan Pollack, both gravely ill with malnutrition and typhus when they were liberated in April 1945. Susan, 14 at the time, has never returned to Bergen-Belsen – until today. She still remembers that moment of liberation in painful detail. 'I was starving, and I wasn't able to walk any more,' she tells me, her eyes watery with age and memory. 'So I crawled out [of the barracks]. I crawled out to die. There were so many rotting bodies to be seen everywhere.' Her tone softens: 'Then a pair of gentle hands lifted me up. And who was that? A British soldier.' Does she remember what went through her mind at that moment? 'It was a miracle,' she says. At 94, she is still a walking miracle. When I first meet her, it is 6am and she is striding through Stansted Airport clutching a stick that seems to be struggling to keep up with her. She's resplendent, even at such an ungodly hour, in a pretty pink pullover and matching lipstick. We are flying to Hanover and then driving the hour-long journey to Bergen-Belsen as part of the UK delegation organised by Ajex (the Jewish Military Association). Eighty years ago, when the British freed the people from that hell on earth, they didn't just bring skeletons back from the brink of death; they restored humanity and dignity. As a British Jew, it's a piece of history that fills me with both pride and gratitude. The first troops to enter the camp were from the 63rd Anti-Tank Regiment, Royal Artillery, under the command of Lt Col Richard Taylor, accompanied by a loudspeaker truck from the Intelligence Corps. Amongst them was Sgt Norman Turgel, a Jewish officer in the British army. His son, sitting alongside me at the ceremony today, tells the story of how Norman came across a young woman in the camp, who, despite her own unbearable grief and frailty, was helping to nurse other survivors. 'That woman was my mother,' he says. 'They formed a bond that turned into love, something almost unimaginable in a place built for death.' Six weeks later they were married – his mother, Gina, wearing a wedding dress sewed from British military silks, gifted from Norman's comrades. Meanwhile, British veteran Stanley Fisher from the West Midlands, who was unable to make the journey (he's 100 years old), recalls his experience in a message. 'I fought through France and all the way to northern Germany, eventually stationed very close to the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp where I witnessed horrors that have stayed with me all my life.' By the time Bergen-Belsen was liberated, around 70,000 people had already died there, mainly due to disease or starvation. Albrecht Weinberg, a 100-year-old survivor from Germany, remembers the moment British soldiers arrived. He had been deported to Bergen-Belsen on a wagon. 'Our bodies were tipped out,' he says. 'Two days later, a tank drove in. I thought, 'Now I'll finally be freed by death', but it was British soldiers coming to liberate us.' He was a 20-year-old man at the time, but weighed only 4st 7lb. Over afternoon refreshments, Susan explains what perhaps needs no explanation – why she has never returned. 'Bergen-Belsen, for me, was a place of death,' she tells me, leaning in, her voice low, her words hesitant. 'Of suffering.' Today, very little of the camp remains. The site is barren, save for a memorial obelisk, but grass mounds now mark the locations of mass graves, with thousands buried beneath each. Susan shares a memory from her arrival here in 1944. Among the 'walking skeletons,' she recognised an old friend and neighbour from her hometown of Felsőgöd in Hungary. Susan's father had been taken by the Nazis early in the war, and she had been separated from her mother and brother while at Auschwitz. So the familiar face must have been a comfort to that teenage girl, and the memory still swirls in her mind more than 80 years later. 'She recognised me and asked, 'Do you think I'm going to survive?' The following day, I went back to see her, but she had lice all over her.' In the camp, lice spread typhus. A look tells me what I need not ask. 'Very few survived in Bergen-Belsen,' she says simply. Susan (then Zsuzsanna Blau) was one of those who did – just – but she was alone. More than 50 members of her family had been murdered. She later discovered her mother had been gassed at Auschwitz. Her brother survived but never mentally recovered. He had been made to work as a Sonderkommando (work units made up of death camp prisoners), shovelling dead bodies from the gas chambers to the ovens. Recalling those early years after liberation, Susan says: 'They were very difficult times. Here I am, a youngster. I don't speak English. I have no support and no financial help because I had no relatives.' She was sent to Sweden to recover and was then taken to Canada, where she met fellow survivor Abraham Pollack. 'He liked me. Then we became friends. And we shared many similar experiences, so we understood each other.' Susan was 18 when they got married but says they didn't know many people; her husband had to pay two people at work to be their witnesses. 'I'm here now because of my husband. He used to work two shifts every day,' she says. Her philosophy has always been to look forward. She had three children and in 1963 the family moved to London, where she worked as a librarian and eventually got a degree in history, aged 60. It was only later in life she started to work with organisations like the Holocaust Educational Trust to share her experiences and educate. I know little of my own family's experiences, one generation always wanting to protect the next from their horrific memories, except that my grandfather Brian, originally from Pabianice in Poland, was in Buchenwald when he was liberated. He passed away when my father was 14, so I never had the chance to meet him. My grandmother, also from Pabianice, moved to London before the war, but her mother and sister survived Auschwitz, passing off as sisters. One of the only details of their experience that I know is that they lived in relentless fear – not only day-to-day, but second-to-second. They knew any moment could be their last. My grandmother's other sister, Yadja, was gassed in a lorry, and most of the large extended family perished. But her cousin, Helen Aronson, was one of the few survivors of the Łódź Ghetto – she celebrated her 98th birthday last week. She survived by hiding underground when the Nazis came to 'liquidate' the ghetto. Like Susan, every life to emerge from those camps was miraculous. Being part of that legacy means I will always feel gratitude for being here, but it also feels like it comes with responsibility – to ensure memories are kept alive and lessons are never forgotten. As we file off the plane in London, I take a moment to sit with Susan, still perky at the end of an 18-hour day. With a warm smile and an invitation to pop over to her house for tea, she tells me she's happy she made the decision to go. I am too – and I hope to help keep the memories she's shared with me alive, as the collective voice of the survivors becomes ever quieter. Like that visit to Auschwitz 25 years ago, Susan's story will always be with me.
