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Monday, December 1, 2025

Why Was Cyrus the Great Considered a “Messiah” by the Ancient Jews?

In the panorama of ancient Near Eastern history, few figures stand at the intersection of empire and religious imagination as prominently as Cyrus II of Persia, known to history as Cyrus the Great (c. 600–530 BCE). Founder of the vast Achaemenid Empire, Cyrus is celebrated for his military brilliance, his administrative innovations, and his statesmanship. Yet among the ancient Jews he occupies a unique theological space: he is the only non-Israelite ever to be called “Messiah” (Hebrew: mashiach, “anointed one”) in the Hebrew Bible. This designation, appearing most notably in the Book of Isaiah (Isaiah 45:1), raises a profound question: Why would a foreign, polytheistic emperor be granted a title reserved for Israel’s kings, priests, and future redeemer?

To understand the Jewish veneration of Cyrus, one must explore the historical crisis of the Babylonian exile, the theological implications of foreign rule, the policy reforms of the Achaemenid Empire, and the prophetic worldview that interpreted geopolitics as an instrument of divine will. Cyrus did not become “Messiah” in the Jewish view because of his personal piety toward Israel’s God, but rather because his rise offered a unique convergence of national liberation, covenantal restoration, and prophetic fulfillment. Through his decree freeing the Jews from Babylonian captivity and enabling the rebuilding of the Temple in Jerusalem, he played—knowingly or not—a role that the prophets understood as divinely mandated. In this way, Cyrus became a figure whose political acts took on profound salvific meaning.


1. Historical Background: The Exile and Its Theological Crisis

To grasp the magnitude of Cyrus’s impact on Jewish thought, one must begin with the Babylonian exile, a catastrophe that fundamentally reshaped Israel’s religious identity.

After a series of rebellions against Babylonian power, the kingdom of Judah was conquered by Nebuchadnezzar II in 586 BCE. Jerusalem was razed, the Temple destroyed, the Davidic monarchy ended, and a significant portion of the population deported to Babylon. This event was not merely a political loss; it was experienced as a theological rupture. The covenantal promise to David, the centrality of Jerusalem, and the Israelites’ identity as God’s chosen people all appeared to have collapsed.

In exile, Jewish prophets such as Jeremiah and Ezekiel interpreted the disaster as divine punishment for national sin but also proclaimed future restoration. A central theme in exilic prophecy is that God would raise up an agent—possibly even a foreign ruler—to restore the exiles. The stage was thus set for a non-Israelite to play a redemptive role.

By the mid-6th century BCE, Babylon’s dominance had weakened, and a new imperial power, the Persians, surged under Cyrus II. When Cyrus conquered Babylon in 539 BCE, he inherited not only its lands but also thousands of Judean exiles whose hopes of returning home had endured across generations. It was at this moment that prophetic expectation intersected with political reality in an unprecedented way.


2. Cyrus’s Policies: Tolerance, Restoration, and Imperial Pragmatism

Cyrus’s rise was built not solely on battlefield success but on a distinctive political philosophy. His rule contrasted sharply with the heavy-handed policies of earlier Mesopotamian empires. Where the Assyrians had governed through forced deportations and terror, and the Babylonians through cultural centralization and political suppression, Cyrus introduced a policy of localized autonomy and religious tolerance.

2.1 The “Edict of Restoration”

The most immediate and transformative action Cyrus took for the Jews was his issuing of a decree allowing exiled peoples—including the Judeans—to return to their ancestral lands and rebuild their temples. The biblical account in Ezra 1:1–4 preserves a version of this decree specifically addressed to the Jews. Although scholars debate whether this text represents the exact wording of Cyrus’s proclamation, archaeological evidence—especially the Cyrus Cylinder—confirms that Cyrus routinely restored deported peoples and sanctuaries across his empire.

In the Cylinder, Cyrus portrays himself as chosen by Babylon’s god Marduk to end the oppressive rule of Nabonidus and restore proper worship throughout the land. He declares that he returned displaced peoples to their homes and reinstated cultic practices. This background makes the biblical account entirely plausible within Cyrus’s broader imperial program.

2.2 A Policy of Imperial Stability

From a pragmatic perspective, Cyrus’s restoration policy was an effective strategy for consolidating his empire. By allowing conquered people to maintain their religious traditions and local institutions, he secured loyalty, lessened resistance, and minimized the need for military coercion. Rebuilding temples served both political and economic ends: temples were centers of local authority, record-keeping, and wealth generation. Their reconstruction contributed to stability and prosperity.

Thus, Cyrus’s actions were not altruistic in a modern sense. They were a mixture of political acumen, ideological legitimacy, and public relations—yet from the Jewish perspective, they had a salvific character.


3. Scriptural Interpretation: Cyrus as God’s “Anointed One”

The most striking expression of Jewish reverence for Cyrus is found in Isaiah 45:1, where the prophet declares:

“Thus says the LORD to his anointed, to Cyrus…”

This is extraordinary. The term “anointed” (mashiach) usually refers to Israelite kings, such as David, or to the anticipated eschatological figure who would bring ultimate redemption. How could a Persian king, a follower of traditional Iranian religion, merit such a title?

3.1 Deutero-Isaiah’s Prophetic Vision

Biblical scholars identify Isaiah 40–55, often called “Second Isaiah,” as a prophetic text addressing the exilic community during the late Babylonian period. This prophet, writing shortly before or shortly after Cyrus’s conquest of Babylon, interprets Cyrus’s rise as an act entirely orchestrated by Israel’s God:

  • God “calls” Cyrus by name (Isaiah 45:4).

  • God “grasps his right hand” and grants him military success (Isaiah 45:1–3).

  • Cyrus is depicted as an agent through whom God will “build my city and set my exiles free” (Isaiah 45:13).

Crucially, Isaiah emphasizes that Cyrus does not know the God of Israel (“though you do not know Me,” Isaiah 45:4–5). His ignorance does not diminish his role; instead, it underscores the theme of divine sovereignty. Here the prophetic logic is radical: God is not constrained by national boundaries and can use any ruler, believer or not, as an instrument of salvation.

3.2 A Non-Jewish Messiah: Theological Implications

The application of the title “Messiah” to Cyrus has several theological implications:

  1. God’s control over history is universal. Israel’s God is not merely a tribal deity but the ruler of all nations.

  2. Political events can be acts of divine deliverance. The “Messiah” is not merely a spiritual figure but can be a foreign king acting in the secular realm.

  3. Redemption can come from unexpected sources. The Jews expected restoration, but the idea that it would come from a Persian king was astonishing.

Cyrus, therefore, becomes a dramatic demonstration of Isaiah’s message that God “makes a way in the sea” and “does new things.” His anointing represents God’s endorsement of his role in returning the Jews to their land and facilitating the rebuilding of the Temple, a prerequisite for renewing covenantal life.


4. The Jewish Experience of Return and Restoration

For the Jews, the return from exile was not merely geographic relocation but a spiritual rebirth. Cyrus’s decree initiated a process that reshaped Jewish identity for centuries.

4.1 The Rebuilding of the Temple

Under the leadership of figures like Sheshbazzar, Zerubbabel, and later Ezra and Nehemiah, the Judean community began to reestablish life in Jerusalem. The rebuilding of the Temple (completed around 515 BCE) restored the sacrificial system and became the center of national worship. Without Cyrus’s authorization, this renewal would not have been possible.

4.2 Reestablishing the Covenant Community

The return also allowed for the reconstitution of Jewish society around the Torah. The Second Temple period saw the development of Judaism as a text-centered religion, with increased emphasis on law, identity boundaries, and communal purity. The later Jewish theological imagination linked these developments implicitly to Cyrus’s initial act of emancipation.

4.3 Cyrus in Jewish Memory

While not universally idealized—some later Jewish texts criticize the limitations of Persian rule—Cyrus remained an unusually positive figure. Josephus, writing in the first century CE, praises him as fulfilling Isaiah’s prophecies. The rabbis often refer to him respectfully. In later centuries, especially in modern Jewish thought, Cyrus became a symbol of enlightened rule and of hope for political deliverance.


5. Why “Messiah”? A Synthesis of Historical and Theological Factors

Several interlocking reasons explain why Cyrus earned the unique title of “Messiah” in the Jewish tradition.

5.1 He Ended the Exile—The Central Jewish Trauma of the Era

No event since the Exodus had been as devastating as the Babylonian exile. Its end was experienced as an event of divine redemption. The figure who accomplished this was naturally cast in messianic terms.

5.2 He Enabled the Rebuilding of the Temple

The Temple was the heart of Israel’s covenantal life. Its destruction symbolized divine judgment; its restoration symbolized divine forgiveness. Cyrus’s role in initiating this process made his political acts resonate spiritually.

5.3 He Fulfilled Prophetic Expectations

Prophets like Isaiah had long predicted that God would raise a liberator “from the east” or “from afar” to free Israel. Cyrus’s unexpected rise, his swift conquests, and his benevolent policies matched these predictions remarkably well.

5.4 He Embodied a Universalistic Vision of God’s Power

By choosing a non-Israelite king as His agent, the God of Israel demonstrated sovereignty over all nations. This universalism is central to Isaiah’s theology. The title “Messiah,” therefore, expresses not the personal holiness of Cyrus but the global reach of the divine plan.

5.5 His Policies Were Unprecedented in the Ancient Near East

Cyrus’s program of repatriation and temple restoration set him apart from earlier conquerors. While not entirely altruistic, it created conditions in which formerly subjugated peoples—including the Jews—experienced genuine renewal.


6. Lasting Legacy: Cyrus as a Model of Just Leadership

Cyrus’s influence extends beyond ancient Jewish thought. The Greek historian Xenophon portrayed him as the ideal ruler, and his image has echoed through political philosophy, from Enlightenment thinkers to modern nation-builders. For the Jews, however, Cyrus’s enduring legacy is tied to a specific moment of redemption in their history—a moment when divine providence and imperial reform aligned to bring their people home.

In Jewish tradition, the title “Messiah” does not imply that Cyrus possessed moral perfection or religious insight into Israel’s God. Rather, it signifies that God used him in a unique way to accomplish a work of salvation. He is, in a sense, a “functional Messiah”: an anointed agent appointed for a particular mission. In later Jewish and Christian eschatology, the concept of “Messiah” would take on more transcendent meaning, associated with ultimate deliverance and the end of days. Yet the example of Cyrus remains a reminder that redemption can come from unexpected sources and that political change can bear profound spiritual meaning.


Conclusion

Cyrus the Great was considered a “Messiah” by the ancient Jews because his actions fulfilled the deepest prophetic and religious hopes of a people in exile. By liberating the Judeans from Babylon, authorizing the rebuilding of the Temple, and enabling the restoration of national life in Jerusalem, he accomplished what no Israelite king after David had been able to achieve. In the prophetic imagination—especially that of Isaiah—these achievements were not merely fortuitous but divinely orchestrated. Cyrus thus became anointed not with oil but with destiny, playing a crucial role in the unfolding narrative of Jewish redemption.

In this extraordinary intersection of geopolitics and theology, a Persian emperor became one of the most celebrated liberators in Jewish history. Through him, the Jews came to see that God’s salvation could emerge far beyond the boundaries of Israel—and that sometimes, the Messiah could come from the unlikeliest of places.

Sunday, November 23, 2025

The Haavara Agreement 1933 between Nazi Germany and Zionist organizations

The Haavara Agreement, signed in August 1933 between Nazi Germany and representatives of the Zionist movement in Palestine, remains one of the most controversial episodes in the history of both the Holocaust and Zionism. Emerging at a moment when Hitler had only recently come to power and German Jews were facing escalating persecution, the agreement sought to resolve an urgent practical dilemma: how could German Jews emigrate to British-controlled Palestine while retaining enough of their assets to rebuild their lives? The compromise reached—one that aligned in some respects with Nazi economic and political goals—has provoked decades of debate among historians, activists, and descendants of the communities involved.

Historical Context

When Adolf Hitler became Chancellor in January 1933, the Nazi regime wasted no time implementing measures aimed at isolating Jews from social, political, and economic life. The April 1933 boycott of Jewish businesses, followed by the Law for the Restoration of the Professional Civil Service, sent a clear signal that life in Germany for Jews was becoming untenable. Emigration seemed increasingly necessary, but it came with formidable obstacles.

Internationally, opportunities for Jewish immigration were limited. Many countries maintained restrictive immigration quotas, and global economic conditions after the Great Depression left potential host nations reluctant to accept newcomers. In Palestine, governed by the British Mandate, Jewish immigration was controlled through certificates tied to economic capacity. For many German Jews—many of them middle-class professionals—financial assets were essential for securing permission to enter.

Domestically, the Nazi state imposed strict capital transfer restrictions. Jews seeking to leave Germany would ordinarily have lost nearly all their property through confiscatory taxes and foreign currency regulations. The result was a tragic bind: Jews needed money to immigrate, but leaving Germany meant forfeiting their assets.

The Road to Negotiation

Zionist organizations in Palestine and Germany saw an opportunity to address both the economic and migration dilemmas. The Jewish Agency for Palestine, the main governing body of the Yishuv (the pre-state Jewish community in Palestine), sought to increase Jewish immigration and investment. Meanwhile, certain elements within the Nazi bureaucracy—particularly the Ministry of Economics—viewed emigration of Jews as compatible with their goals of “solving” the so-called Jewish question by expelling Jews from German society.‍

Discussions began in March 1933, only weeks after Hitler’s rise. The negotiations were sensitive and fraught: many Jewish organizations worldwide were organizing boycotts of German goods, while both the German authorities and Zionist leaders worried that any cooperation might spark public backlash. The arrangement that eventually emerged was both highly practical and profoundly political.

Mechanics of the Agreement

The Haavara (Transfer) Agreement allowed German Jews emigrating to Palestine to preserve a portion of their assets by depositing money into a designated account in Germany. These funds were then used to purchase German goods—primarily agricultural equipment, building materials, and other products needed in Palestine. When the goods arrived in Palestine and were sold, the emigrants received the proceeds in local currency.

In essence, the system converted private Jewish capital into German exports. For the German government, this helped stimulate its economy and circumvent the international boycott movement. For Zionist institutions, it facilitated increased Jewish immigration, strengthened the economic infrastructure of the Yishuv, and supported agricultural settlement. For Jewish emigrants, it provided a lifeline—though far from a complete preservation of their assets.

Between 1933 and 1939, roughly 50,000 German Jews immigrated to Palestine through the Haavara system, transferring the equivalent of tens of millions of dollars. These emigrants would become a crucial component of Palestinian Jewish society, accelerating urban development, education, and industry.

Zionist and Jewish Opposition

Despite its practical value, the agreement was fiercely opposed by many Jewish leaders and organizations worldwide. The American Jewish Congress and other groups had launched an economic boycott aimed at undermining the Nazi regime. From their perspective, the Haavara Agreement effectively sabotaged the boycott by enabling German exports and providing the Nazis with valuable political leverage.

Religious and left-wing Jewish groups also objected on moral grounds. They argued that negotiating with a regime openly committed to antisemitism and violence was intolerable, regardless of the practical benefits. The agreement, they said, symbolized accommodation rather than resistance at a time when solidarity was essential.

Some Zionist factions, too, were deeply troubled. Though many mainstream Zionist leaders supported the agreement as a life-saving necessity, other activists viewed it as a dangerous precedent. The Revisionist Zionists led by Ze’ev Jabotinsky were especially uncompromising, denouncing the deal as a capitulation to Nazism and a betrayal of global Jewish unity.

Nazi Motivations and Internal Politics

From the Nazi perspective, the agreement offered several strategic advantages. First, it facilitated Jewish emigration—an early pillar of the regime’s antisemitic policy. Second, it boosted German exports at a time when the economy was still recovering. Third, it helped counteract international efforts to isolate Germany economically.

However, Nazi enthusiasm was not universal. The SS at first viewed the negotiations with suspicion, while the Foreign Ministry feared diplomatic complications. Hitler himself never formally endorsed the agreement, though he permitted it to operate. The deal benefited from a temporary alignment of interests between economic technocrats and Zionist organizations—an alignment that would dissolve as Nazi policy radicalized later in the decade.

End of the Agreement and Historical Legacy

The Haavara Agreement effectively ended with the outbreak of World War II in September 1939, though transfers had declined even before then as Nazi policies grew more violent and restrictive. In retrospect, the agreement stands as a stark reminder of the desperate choices forced upon Jewish communities under Nazi persecution.

Historians have long debated its meaning. Some emphasize its life-saving impact: tens of thousands of Jews escaped Germany and helped shape the future state of Israel because of it. Others focus on the deal’s political and moral complexities: it represented cooperation with a murderous regime at a time when global solidarity against Nazism was urgently needed.

The agreement’s legacy is thus neither simple nor comfortable. It reflects the contradictory pressures of survival, ideology, and pragmatism in an era of rising terror.

Conclusion

The Haavara Agreement of 1933 occupies a unique and unsettling place in twentieth-century history. Born from the intersection of Nazi goals, Zionist aspirations, and the desperate needs of German Jews, it operated in a space where morality and pragmatism collided. It saved lives, strengthened the Jewish community in Palestine, and helped shape the foundation of modern Israel. Yet it did so through cooperation with a regime dedicated to the destruction of the Jewish people.

Understanding the Haavara Agreement requires acknowledging this duality. It was neither a simple betrayal nor a triumph—it was a historical compromise forged under extraordinary pressure, illustrating the tragic complexities of Jewish life under the shadow of Nazism.

Sunday, November 16, 2025

Zionism: The Real Enemy of the Jews — An Examination of Alan Hart’s Argument

Alan Hart’s Zionism: The Real Enemy of the Jews is a sweeping, provocative, and often controversial three-volume work that attempts to reframe the history of the Israeli–Palestinian conflict through a moral, political, and humanitarian lens. Hart—an experienced foreign correspondent and a longtime observer of Middle Eastern affairs—sought to challenge prevailing narratives in Western discourse and to expose what he viewed as the deep ethical dilemmas and historical distortions embedded within political Zionism. His central thesis, encapsulated in the book’s title, is that Zionism as a political project has endangered Jews rather than protected them, and has fueled decades of conflict, displacement, and mistrust in the Middle East.

Hart’s Background and Motivation

Before writing his trilogy, Alan Hart spent decades reporting on Middle Eastern politics. He interviewed political leaders, intelligence officials, and diplomats across the Arab world and Israel. His unusual access allowed him to form relationships with key figures, which shaped his perspective on the region. Hart came to believe that the Western public was largely unaware of the full historical context behind the creation of Israel, the dispossession of Palestine, and the geopolitical forces that shaped the conflict. His book aims to correct what he viewed as systemic misunderstanding and deliberate misinformation.

Hart wrote not as an academic historian, but as an investigative journalist and analyst concerned about the long-term implications of the conflict. He argued that silence, indifference, or fear of controversy—especially fear of being labeled anti-Semitic—had prevented many from discussing the issue honestly. His willingness to confront these controversies head-on is one of the defining features of his work.

The Distinction Between Judaism and Zionism

One of the central pillars of Hart’s argument is the sharp distinction he draws between Judaism, a faith and moral tradition, and Zionism, a modern political ideology. Hart insists that conflating the two is both intellectually incorrect and ethically dangerous. According to him, many Jews, including prominent religious authorities, historically rejected Zionism on theological and moral grounds. For centuries, the mainstream Jewish tradition viewed the return to the Holy Land as a divine event, not a human-engineered political project.

Hart’s central claim follows from this distinction: political Zionism, not Judaism, lies at the heart of the Israeli–Palestinian conflict, and it is Zionism’s ethno-nationalist vision that has produced policies harming both Palestinians and, paradoxically, Jews themselves. The title of the book is deliberately provocative because Hart argues that the Zionist project endangers Jewish safety by entrenching conflict and fostering resentment.

Historical Narrative and the Question of Palestine

Hart’s work devotes considerable attention to the historical processes leading to the establishment of Israel in 1948. Drawing on a wide range of archival material, memoirs, and diplomatic records, he presents the Balfour Declaration, British imperial strategy, and Zionist leadership decisions as key components of an evolving project that marginalized the indigenous Palestinian population.

He argues that the dispossession of Palestinians was not an unintended byproduct of state formation but an integral part of a political vision aimed at ensuring a Jewish majority in the land. Hart contends that early Zionist leaders, including David Ben-Gurion, were aware that creating a Jewish state in a land predominantly inhabited by Arabs required large-scale displacement—what Palestinians refer to as the Nakba.

For Hart, acknowledging this historical reality is not an attack on Jewish identity but an essential step toward any honest reconciliation. He is critical of narratives that portray Zionism as purely defensive or humanitarian, arguing instead that it was a nationalist project shaped by European political trends and fears arising from anti-Semitism.

The Role of Western Powers

Another major strand in Hart’s work concerns the role of Western governments—especially Britain and the United States—in facilitating the Zionist project. Hart examines how British imperial interests in the early 20th century intersected with Zionist lobbying to produce contradictory policies and broken promises to both Arabs and Jews. He argues that Western powers often prioritized geopolitical advantage over justice, helping create a conflict that outlived the colonial era.

Hart is also sharply critical of U.S. foreign policy, which he sees as excessively influenced by pro-Israel lobbying groups and political pressure. In his view, American support for Israeli policies—military, diplomatic, and financial—has shielded Israel from meaningful accountability and prevented fair negotiations. This, he suggests, not only harms Palestinians but also undermines long-term peace and exposes Jews to future hostility.

The Moral and Humanitarian Dimension

A consistent thread in Hart’s analysis is moral responsibility. He argues that both sides of the conflict have suffered profoundly, but the power imbalance demands that special scrutiny be applied to state policies enacted with overwhelming military and political dominance. Hart challenges readers to consider the human cost of occupation, settlement expansion, home demolitions, and restrictions on Palestinian movement and autonomy.

At the same time, he repeatedly stresses that criticism of Israel or Zionism must not devolve into prejudice or hostility toward Jews. In fact, his argument that Zionism harms Jews reflects his stated sympathy for Jewish communities worldwide. Hart maintains that long-term peace and safety for Jews and Palestinians can come only through a political solution rooted in justice rather than domination.

Criticisms and Controversies

Hart’s work has generated significant debate. Critics argue that he oversimplifies complex historical events, underestimates the trauma of anti-Semitism that shaped Zionist aspirations, or adopts a polemical tone that sometimes blurs the line between analysis and advocacy. Some have accused him of giving too little weight to Arab political decisions or regional dynamics that also shaped the conflict.

Supporters, however, view the trilogy as a groundbreaking attempt to confront uncomfortable truths and challenge dominant narratives that, in their view, obscure the reality of Palestinian suffering and the political nature of Zionism.

Legacy and Impact

Zionism: The Real Enemy of the Jews remains a significant contribution to literature on the Israeli–Palestinian conflict. Whether one agrees with Hart’s conclusions or not, the work invites readers to consider the deeper ethical, historical, and political dimensions of the conflict. It asks difficult questions about identity, nationalism, justice, and the dangers of conflating political ideology with religious or cultural identity.

Hart’s insistence on distinguishing between Judaism and Zionism, his detailed historical reconstruction, and his critique of Western complicity continue to resonate with many readers seeking alternative perspectives. At the same time, the controversy surrounding the book ensures that it remains part of an ongoing conversation rather than a definitive account.

Conclusion

Alan Hart’s Zionism: The Real Enemy of the Jews is a bold and contentious work that seeks to rewrite the narrative of one of the world’s most enduring conflicts. Its arguments challenge established assumptions, provoke critical reflection, and urge a moral reckoning with history. Whether viewed as an essential corrective or a controversial polemic, Hart’s trilogy serves as a reminder that genuine understanding of the Israeli–Palestinian conflict requires grappling with painful truths, listening to marginalized voices, and separating politics from prejudices. In this way, Hart’s work continues to spark debate and inspire deeper engagement with one of the most complex issues of the modern era.

Monday, November 10, 2025

Benjamin Harrison Freedman & The Khazar Hypothesis

Benjamin H. Freedman: Biography and claims

Benjamin Harrison Freedman (1890–1984) was a U.S. businessman, former Jewish‐background individual (he is described in some sources as a “Jew by birth”) who later became a vocal critic of Zionism and of mainstream Jewish institutions. Nizkor+2Fascipedia+2
He published pamphlets and delivered speeches such as Facts Are Facts: The Truth About the Khazars (1954) in which he argued that most modern Jews (especially Ashkenazi Jews in Eastern Europe) are not descended from the ancient Israelites, but rather from the medieval Turkic‐Khazar people who converted to Judaism. Pacin Law+1
In his writings Freedman described the Khazars as a non‐Semitic, Asiatic people (“Turko‐Finns,” “Mongoloid,” in his words) who converted en masse to Judaism and later migrated into Eastern Europe, becoming what we now call “Jews.” Blue Moon of Shanghai
He then used this argument to challenge claims of Jewish “blood right” to the land of Israel, and to critique Zionist political influence. National Vanguard+1
However, Freedman’s work has been widely criticized for its polemical tone, selective use of evidence, and for its adoption by extremist and antisemitic movements. John Deacon+1


The Khazar Hypothesis: What it is

The Khazar Hypothesis (also called the Khazar theory) proposes that a substantial portion of Ashkenazi Jews descend not from the ancient Israelites of the Levant, but from the medieval Khazars—a multi‐ethnic Turkic polity (the Khazar Khaganate) in the Caucasus–Volga region, whose elite converted to Judaism in the 8th–9th centuries. Wikipedia+1
The hypothesis dates back to 19th‐ and early 20th‐century scholarship on Khazaria, and was popularised in the 20th century by figures like Arthur Koestler in The Thirteenth Tribe (1976). Wikipedia
It gained some traction in anti‐Zionist contexts, where it was used to argue that modern Jews lack direct genealogical ties to ancient Israelites, thereby challenging ideological claims of “return” to Palestine. Wikipedia+1
In Freedman’s version, he states that the Khazars were the “so‐called or self-styled ‘Jews’ in eastern Europe”, that they were not semitic, and that their conversion and migration form the foundation of the modern Jewish population in Europe. Mina News+1


Freedman’s Argument in Detail

Freedman’s pamphlet Facts Are Facts outlines several key claims:

  • The word “Jew” is a relatively modern term derived from “Judaean/Judean,” and not an ancient ethnonym. John Deacon

  • The Khazars were originally a warlike, pagan, Asiatic people who settled in Eastern Europe and whose elite converted to Judaism under a king (often named Bulan or similar) after evaluating Christianity, Islam and Judaism. Blue Moon of Shanghai+1

  • After the collapse of the Khazar state (c. 10th–13th century), the Khazar‐Judaized population migrated or otherwise became the bulk of Eastern European Jewry (Ashkenazim). Pacin Law+1

  • Because of this, the modern Jewish claim of being direct descendants of the ancient Israelites and having a hereditary “blood right” to the land of Israel is historically invalid. T NATION

Freedman’s narrative is thus both an historical assertion and a political critique of Zionism and Jewish influence.


Scholarly Assessment & Critique

While the Khazar hypothesis has a long history, it is important to note that the mainstream scholarly consensus finds little compelling evidence that the Khazars form the bulk of Ashkenazi ancestry. Some key points:

  • Genetic studies of Jewish populations (Ashkenazi, Sephardi, Mizrahi) indicate that most carry significant Middle Eastern ancestry, consistent with descent from ancient Israelites and other Levantine groups. Wikipedia+1

  • The hypothesis is largely abandoned in serious academic discourse as an explanation for Ashkenazi origins. Wikipedia

  • Some fringe or politically charged versions of the hypothesis (including Freedman’s) are used in antisemitic or anti‐Zionist contexts, which further damages its credibility in neutral historical scholarship. Wikipedia+1

  • Some recent genetic‐statistical studies (e.g., Elhaik 2012) have argued for a partial Khazar contribution, but these findings are contested and remain controversial. arXiv

In short: while some Khazar conversion and migration may have occurred, the idea that Ashkenazi Jewry is mostly or entirely of Khazar origin is not supported by robust evidence.


The Significance and Use of Freedman’s Version

Freedman’s version of the hypothesis has had significance beyond purely historical debate:

  • He used the hypothesis as a tool of political persuasion, particularly against Zionism, arguing that the “so‐called Jews” who control Zionist power are not biblical Israelites and thus lack legitimacy for claims in Palestine.

  • His writings have been cited by antisemitic groups as supporting conspiracy theories about “fake Jews” or “Khazar Jews,” and have been entwined with racial or supremacist ideologies. National Vanguard+1

  • Because of this, his work is regarded by many scholars as politically motivated, and his historical methods and conclusions criticized for selective or misleading use of sources.

It is possible to distinguish three levels of use:

  1. A genuine historical hypothesis about Khazar conversion and Jewish migration (academic).

  2. A political/ideological argument (Freedman, Koestler).

  3. A conspiracy/antisemitic narrative (extremist groups).

Freedman’s work spans levels 2 and 3.


Why the Debate Matters

The debate over the Khazar hypothesis and Freedman’s version touches on broader themes:

  • Ethnic and religious identity: If Ashkenazi Jews were primarily Khazar in origin, the narrative of descent from the ancient Israelites is challenged—and that narrative underpins many religious, cultural, and national claims (for Jews, Palestinians, and others).

  • Historical legitimacy: Claims to the land of Israel/Palestine are deeply entwined with narratives of ancestry, covenant, exile, return. Freedman used the Khazar hypothesis to challenge the legitimacy of Zionist claims based on “blood right.”

  • Use of genetics in history: Modern genetic research has complicated older narratives of ancestry and migration—showing that ethnic groups are rarely isolated. The Khazar hypothesis serves as a case study in how genetics, archaeology, and historiography intersect.

  • Propaganda and ideology: Freedman’s work demonstrates how historical hypotheses can be harnessed politically and ideologically. The shift from academic debate to conspiracy narrative is instructive.


Conclusion

Benjamin H. Freedman’s version of the Khazar hypothesis presents a provocative challenge: that the bulk of Ashkenazi Jews descend from the medieval Khazars and not from ancient Israelites, and thus that key Jewish historical claims are invalid. While this argument has been used politically and remains influential in certain circles, it is not supported by mainstream scholarship, which shows significant Middle Eastern ancestry in Jewish populations and finds that the Khazar origin alone cannot explain Ashkenazi origins.

Freedman’s work sits at the intersection of history, identity politics, and ideology. It reminds us to ask critical questions: What claims are being made about ancestry? With what purpose? And how do genetics, history, and political motives interplay?

Sunday, November 2, 2025

Who was Benjamin Harrison Freedman?

Early Life and Business Career

Benjamin Harrison Freedman was born on October 4 1890, in New York City, into a Jewish family. Wikipedia+1 Over the years he became a successful businessman — at one stage he was a partner in the John H. Woodbury Laboratories and a principal owner of the Woodbury Soap Company. Wikipedia+1 His business success gave him financial leverage and social access, which later fed into his political and ideological activism.

Conversion and Shift in Identity

Freedman converted from Judaism to Roman Catholicism (or at least embraced a Christian orientation) in his later years. Wikipedia+2Wikipedia+2 He also publicly broke with what he regarded as organised Jewish‐leadership and Zionist causes, styling himself as “a former Jew” in his speeches. His identity shift played a central role in how he framed his later political activities.

Political Activism and Anti‐Zionism

From the 1940s onward, Freedman became known for his outspoken anti-Zionist views. In 1946 he founded the League for Peace with Justice in Palestine, which advocated pro-Arab, anti-Zionist positions in the context of the creating of the State of Israel and U.S. foreign policy in the Middle East. Wikipedia+1 In a 1948 court case, Freedman admitted that he spent around $100,000 on newspaper advertisements espousing his group’s positions. Jewish Telegraphic Agency

One of his most well-known public interventions was a speech given in 1961 at the Willard Hotel in Washington, D.C., in which he claimed to expose what he described as “Zionist” influence in U.S. politics, wars and foreign policy. johannes-freiland.com+1

Key Themes of His Views

  • Conspiracy of Zionism: Freedman argued that Zionist organisations had exerted undue influence in the U.S., and that much of U.S. foreign policy—particularly toward the Middle East—was shaped by Zionist interests. He detailed this in speeches and pamphlets such as The Hidden Tyranny. bluemoonofshanghai.com+1

  • Khazar Hypothesis & Jewish Identity: Freedman adopted and advocated the Khazar hypothesis (the idea that many contemporary Jews descend from Khazars rather than the historical Israelites). He referred to “so-called or self-styled Jews” in his writings. Wikipedia+1

  • Media and War: He claimed that media manipulation, war-production, and Zionist agendas were interlinked, especially in matters of World War I, World War II and the establishment of Israel. These claims were central to his 1961 speech and pamphlets. johannes-freiland.com+1

Controversy and Criticism

Freedman’s views were extremely controversial. His opponents labelled him a “self-hating Jew” and an “anti-Semite,” especially because he came from a Jewish background yet harshly criticised Jewish organisations and ideas. National Vanguard+1 His work often appears in contexts associated with Holocaust denial or revisionism, and is cited by extremist groups. For example, a pamphlet The Hidden Tyranny lists a variety of conspiracy claims and is published by organisations linked to Holocaust denial. colchestercollection.com The mainstream academic and Jewish communities regard many of his assertions as unfounded and antisemitic in content or tone.

Legacy and Impact

Freedman died in May 1984 at the age of 93. Wikipedia His legacy is mixed:

  • On one hand, he remains a figure cited by anti-Zionist groups and those critical of Israeli foreign policy and Jewish communal power.

  • On the other hand, mainstream historians, Jewish educator bodies and anti-hate organisations view him as a promoter of conspiratorial and anti-Jewish narratives.

While Freedman never became a mainstream political leader, his writings and speeches have had disproportionate influence in fringe circles, particularly those promoting conspiracy theories about Zionism, Jewish power and global politics.

Why He Mattered (and Why He’s Problematic)

Freedman matters in part because of his unusual trajectory: from a successful Jewish businessman to Christian convert, to outspoken critic of Zionism and Jewish communal leadership. Because of his business success and insider access, he lent himself some credibility among certain audiences. His publications and speeches have been disseminated widely on both fringes of the political spectrum and have been used as “source material” by anti-Zionist, conspiratorial and extremist movements.

However, the problems are substantial. Many of his claims lack credible evidence or are based on dubious historical interpretations. His rhetoric, focused on secret cabals and conspiracies, overlaps considerably with antisemitic tropes (for example, the idea of Jewish control of media, finance and politics). Whether Freedman himself held anti-Jewish intentions or simply used controversial rhetorical framing, the impact of his materials has often been to bolster anti-Jewish sentiment.

Concluding Thoughts

Benjamin Harrison Freedman is a figure whose story raises many questions: about identity, dissent, insider knowledge, the fine line between legitimate political critique and conspiracy-laden rhetoric, and the ways in which historical narratives are contested.

While studying Freedman can provide a window into certain strands of mid-20th-century American political and ideological history (especially around Zionism, Palestine, and Jewish communal politics), it is also a cautionary tale. His life illustrates how personal grievances and ideological anger can merge into broad conspiratorial frameworks, and how the authority of a “former insider” can lend weight to fringe ideas.

For a balanced view, one must approach Freedman’s writings critically, examining the sources, the motivations, and the broader historical context—including the dynamics of Jewish-non-Jewish relations, the history of Zionism, U.S. foreign policy, and the nature of conspiracy theory.

Sunday, October 26, 2025

The Empty Wagon: Zionism's Journey from Identity Crisis to Identity Theft by Rabbi Yaakov Shapiro

In his voluminous 2018 treatise, The Empty Wagon, Rabbi Yaakov Shapiro delivers a sweeping critique of Zionism from the standpoint of Orthodox Jewish theology and identity. What follows is a synthetic overview of Shapiro’s central thesis, main arguments, structural features of the book, as well as some reflections on its significance and limitations.


Author and Context

Rabbi Yaakov Shapiro is an American Orthodox rabbi, lecturer and author known for his outspoken anti-Zionist stance. According to descriptions of his work, Shapiro argues that Judaism is fundamentally a religious identity rather than a national-state identity, and that Zionism — understood as a modern nationalist movement — re-engineered Jewish identity in ways incompatible with traditional Torah Judaism. Snipd+3Wikipedia+3Decolonised+3

The Empty Wagon thus emerges in the context of internal Jewish debates over the nature of Jewish identity, the legitimacy of the State of Israel, and the relationship between religion, nationhood and land. The book runs to approximately 1,381 pages according to some sources, marking it as a substantial undertaking. Decolonised+1


Central Thesis: Identity Crisis → Identity Theft

At the heart of Shapiro’s argument is a two-stage process: first, an identity crisis; second, an identity theft. He suggests that Zionism arose out of a crisis of Jewish identity — secularisation, assimilation, anti-Semitism and the collapse of traditional communal structures. From that crisis emerged Zionism, which attempted to redefine Jews as a nation, and the land of Israel (or the state thereof) as the central locus of Jewish identity. In Shapiro’s view, this redefinition amounts to a “theft” of Jewish identity, because it replaces the traditional covenantal, religious self-understanding of the Jew with a nationalist, secular paradigm.

He writes that Zionism “created an entirely new society, pretending they were scions of the ‘ancient people of the Book’ …” and that it “hijacked” Jewish identity. IslamiCity+1

Thus the metaphor of the “empty wagon” signifies a vehicle (Zionism) that appears to carry Jewish identity forward but in Shapiro’s account, is empty of the core of Judaism (Torah, faith, covenant) and in fact leads identity astray.


Key Themes and Arguments

1. The Crisis of Jewish Identity

Shapiro contends that by the 19th and early 20th centuries, many Jews faced profound disruptions: modernity, secularism, emancipation and assimilation. Zionism, he argues, responded to these disruptions not by reaffirming the traditional religious identity of the Jew, but by offering a different identity — as a member of a nation, a people with a territory. He holds that this shift undermined the historic understanding of Jewishness as defined by Torah, mitzvot, exile and diaspora rather than by land and state.

2. Redefining Judaism as Nationalism

In Shapiro’s view, Zionism attempted to transform the Jew from being part of a religious community into being a member of a national entity. The ideology he portrays as self-contradictory: early Zionists, many secular or even anti-traditional, nonetheless claimed to derive legitimacy from Jewish history and religion, producing what Shapiro sees as “a logically inconsistent, traumatic ideology”. IslamiCity

He emphasizes that unlike other religious communities, Zionism claims a state for all Jews even if they have no physical or familial connection to the land — a uniqueness he finds problematic. IslamiCity

3. Identity Theft

The idea of “identity theft” is central: Shapiro argues that Zionism didn’t merely offer a new identity option, but effectively usurped or re-branded the existing one. Traditional Judaism, he holds, is the original “wagon” that carried Jewish identity; Zionism hijacked it and offered a secular nationalist version. In his account, this has consequences: the traditional meaning of exile, covenant, Torah observance and spiritual mission become secondary or suppressed in the Zionist framework.

4. Torah-Hashkafa Critique

Shapiro roots much of his critique in Orthodox Jewish sources and hashkafah (philosophical/theological orientation). He cites prominent gadolim (great rabbis) who, in his reading, warned against Zionist philosophies, particularly those which integrate secular nationalism with Jewish religious identity. The book interrogates Jewish political involvement in Zionist institutions, the religious justifications of the State of Israel, and communal alignment with Zionism from a halakhic and hashkafic lens.

5. Historical and Ideological Examination

While the full text is vast, Shapiro reportedly documents the history of the Zionist movement, its ideological underpinnings, its interactions with European nationalism, Christian Zionism, and how it re-imagined Jewish identity. One article summarising the book notes that Shapiro “in his comprehensive account … explains how and why Zionism represents a hijacking of Jewish identity”. IslamiCity+1


Structure and Scope

According to sources, the book is structured as a detailed treatise, integrating historical research, ideological critique, Torah-based reflections, and hashkafic commentary. Examples of topics include the original Zionist movement’s ties to European nationalism, the reinterpretation of Jewish self-definition, the role of the State of Israel in redefining Jewish identity, and the implications for diaspora Jews and Torah observant communities.

Given the length (c.1381 pages) and depth, the work is aimed primarily at serious students of Jewish ideology, Torah-learning audiences, and those concerned with the intersection of Judaism, nationalism and modernity. Decolonised+1


Significance and Impact

The Empty Wagon has achieved considerable traction within the anti-Zionist Orthodox milieu. Its significance lies in offering a detailed, Torah-grounded critique of Zionism from within the Jewish tradition, rather than from secular or external perspectives. It helps articulate the position of Orthodox groups that reject Zionism not merely tactically but on theological grounds.

By reframing Zionism as not simply a political movement but a re-definition of Jewish identity antithetical to traditional Judaism, Shapiro provides a comprehensive argument for those who hold that Jewishness must be understood religiously, not nationally. For communities wrestling with questions of Israeli state legitimacy, diaspora relations, Jewish nationhood and the meaning of exile, the book offers ample material for study and debate.


Critiques and Limitations

  • Scope and Audience: The sheer size and depth of the book make it less accessible to general readers unfamiliar with Jewish theology, halakhah or the history of Zionism. It is clearly tailored for a specialist audience.

  • Partisan Lens: Shapiro writes from a distinct anti-Zionist, Orthodox hashkafic perspective; those sympathetic to Zionism or religious Zionism will find his premises and conclusions contested.

  • Historical Interpretation: Some historians might challenge aspects of his version of Zionist history, motivations of early Zionists, and portrayals of identity formation.

  • Nuance of Zionism: Zionism is a broad movement with many variants (secular, religious, liberal, revisionist). Critics may argue that Shapiro’s critique tends to treat Zionism monolithically and may not sufficiently distinguish between its different strands.

  • Engagement with Opposing Views: While the book appears extensive, engaging fully with alternate perspectives (including religious Zionist ones) may pose challenges or require supplementary reading for balance.


Conclusion

In The Empty Wagon, Rabbi Yaakov Shapiro issues a profound and far-reaching challenge to the hegemony of Zionist identity within many Jewish communities. His thesis: Zionism did not simply complement Judaism but displaced, distorted and usurped Jewish religious identity by recasting it within a national-statist framework. For Shapiro and his community, Jewish identity must be rooted in Torah, mitzvot and the covenant with God — not in territory, nationality or political sovereignty.

Whether one agrees or disagrees with his conclusions, the work demands serious attention from anyone interested in the debates over Judaism and Zionism, religious identity, nationalism, and the future of the Jewish people. The book stands as a formidable expression of one side of a contested, highly charged conversation within Judaism.