Additional Resources
Top Commentators:
- Elliott Abrams
- Fouad Ajami
- Shlomo Avineri
- Benny Avni
- Alan Dershowitz
- Jackson Diehl
- Dore Gold
- Daniel Gordis
- Tom Gross
- Jonathan Halevy
- David Ignatius
- Pinchas Inbari
- Jeff Jacoby
- Efraim Karsh
- Mordechai Kedar
- Charles Krauthammer
- Emily Landau
- David Makovsky
- Aaron David Miller
- Benny Morris
- Jacques Neriah
- Marty Peretz
- Melanie Phillips
- Daniel Pipes
- Harold Rhode
- Gary Rosenblatt
- Jennifer Rubin
- David Schenkar
- Shimon Shapira
- Jonathan Spyer
- Gerald Steinberg
- Bret Stephens
- Amir Taheri
- Josh Teitelbaum
- Khaled Abu Toameh
- Jonathan Tobin
- Michael Totten
- Michael Young
- Mort Zuckerman
Think Tanks:
- American Enterprise Institute
- Brookings Institution
- Center for Security Policy
- Council on Foreign Relations
- Heritage Foundation
- Hudson Institute
- Institute for Contemporary Affairs
- Institute for Counter-Terrorism
- Institute for Global Jewish Affairs
- Institute for National Security Studies
- Institute for Science and Intl. Security
- Intelligence and Terrorism Information Center
- Investigative Project
- Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs
- RAND Corporation
- Saban Center for Middle East Policy
- Shalem Center
- Washington Institute for Near East Policy
Media:
- CAMERA
- Daily Alert
- Jewish Political Studies Review
- MEMRI
- NGO Monitor
- Palestinian Media Watch
- The Israel Project
- YouTube
Government:
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(NBC News) Evan Fallenberg - Nearly 30 years after I moved to Israel from Ohio, I bought a dilapidated 300-year-old Ottoman ruin in the ancient Mediterranean city of Acre filled with an entire neighborhood's junk. In just 20 months, I was able to turn the pile of rocks into a tiny, exquisite boutique hotel called Arabesque. In truth, I did not think much about the fact that I am Jewish and my neighbors are Arab Muslims and Christians; I assumed that if I were a good neighbor, I would receive good neighborliness in return. Arabesque blossomed and we became part of the community in the town's Old City, attending weddings and funerals and iftar meals during the Muslim holy month of Ramadan. Our guests invariably marveled at the welcome of our staff (2/3 Arab, 1/3 Jewish). I crowed incessantly about the beauty of our lives in Acre. On the night of May 12, an angry Arab mob breached the great, heavy front doors of Arabesque. I saw the damage the next morning. Every piece of glass, ceramic or porcelain that could be broken was smashed, furniture was dismantled, mirrors shattered, televisions and air conditioners ripped to pieces. My 95-year-old grand piano was turned on its side. Sinks were cut in half, electrical appliances in the kitchen bashed in, art on the walls flung in every direction. Yet in the days that followed, I was buoyed by the extraordinary outpouring of support and love and encouragement from my Arab friends and neighbors. They told us: We will clean up with you. We will donate. We will stay in the hotel when you reopen. For many people, the death of Arabesque means admitting Jews and Arabs cannot live together. For so many people, including us, that is not a possibility. The writer teaches at Bar-Ilan University and Vermont College of Fine Arts. 2021-05-21 00:00:00Full Article
After a Mob Looted My Hotel, My Arab Friends Are Helping Me Rebuild
(NBC News) Evan Fallenberg - Nearly 30 years after I moved to Israel from Ohio, I bought a dilapidated 300-year-old Ottoman ruin in the ancient Mediterranean city of Acre filled with an entire neighborhood's junk. In just 20 months, I was able to turn the pile of rocks into a tiny, exquisite boutique hotel called Arabesque. In truth, I did not think much about the fact that I am Jewish and my neighbors are Arab Muslims and Christians; I assumed that if I were a good neighbor, I would receive good neighborliness in return. Arabesque blossomed and we became part of the community in the town's Old City, attending weddings and funerals and iftar meals during the Muslim holy month of Ramadan. Our guests invariably marveled at the welcome of our staff (2/3 Arab, 1/3 Jewish). I crowed incessantly about the beauty of our lives in Acre. On the night of May 12, an angry Arab mob breached the great, heavy front doors of Arabesque. I saw the damage the next morning. Every piece of glass, ceramic or porcelain that could be broken was smashed, furniture was dismantled, mirrors shattered, televisions and air conditioners ripped to pieces. My 95-year-old grand piano was turned on its side. Sinks were cut in half, electrical appliances in the kitchen bashed in, art on the walls flung in every direction. Yet in the days that followed, I was buoyed by the extraordinary outpouring of support and love and encouragement from my Arab friends and neighbors. They told us: We will clean up with you. We will donate. We will stay in the hotel when you reopen. For many people, the death of Arabesque means admitting Jews and Arabs cannot live together. For so many people, including us, that is not a possibility. The writer teaches at Bar-Ilan University and Vermont College of Fine Arts. 2021-05-21 00:00:00Full Article
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