A Tale of Two Abrahams
REVIEW: 'Abraham: The First Jew'Ukraine and Israel are fighting two fronts in the same war — the West must support both
Julius retells the idol-smashing midrash and the canonical biblical Abrahamic narrative with bold creative license—Terah "was a manufacturer, a retailer, and a trader, the owner of shops in Ur and elsewhere, a person of substantial means and well-connected to the ruling circles in the city." He has a teenage Abraham arguing against the mighty pagan king Nimrod who sought to punish the boy for his stunt defending himself in language no teen would ever use—"Adolescence is an underrated period in a person's life!" the unbowed Abraham shouts. "You by contrast are nothing more than a geriatric dictator. Indeed, you are immobilized in that role, without creativity or prospects for growth or change." When three angels appear before Abraham in the guise of men in an episode described in Genesis's 18th chapter, Julius rewrites the opening scene meditatively: "He saw three men. They were not ordinary men. Perhaps they were not men at all. Perhaps there were not three but only one. Perhaps it was not one but the One."
Amid the action, Abraham the first argues with the second. "In your fidelity to faith, your meta-faithfulness, you imprison yourself in the logic of others—of the Other," the former flings at the latter. "You have no piety," Abraham the second replies. "You think humanity is nothing but an indifferent accident on the surface of being."
Unlike the two seemingly disparate accounts of the first human's origin, there is no indication in the biblical text that there are two sides to Abraham's persona. He receives revelation from God at the start of his journey to the Promised Land (the Bible offers no details about his youth) as well as decades later. He demonstrates commitment to the covenant with God despite challenges, from fleeing to Egypt during a famine to arguing for the sparing of Sodom to mourning the death of his beloved wife Sarah.
"Every Jewish life is two lives, the lives of the two Abrahams," Julius insists.
Julius's Abraham is, of course, a stand-in for the author's wrestling with his own spirituality. In analyzing the near-sacrifice of Isaac, known as the Akedah, or Binding of Isaac, he cites the author Wendy Zierler's complaint that "the Akedah seems to fail as a recipe for passing on religious convictions to living children who we love." "I respond, yes of course it does," says Julius. "That is its purpose, or at least part of its purpose. Its 'failure' is its triumph. It makes Judaism difficult." To Julius, the Akedah asks readers to wonder: "Is sacrifice truly the highest spiritual value? Can God truly be trusted? Should we truly elevate religion above ethics? These questions are Judaism's challenge to itself."
The coda of the book presents the reader with a brief summary of perspectives on Abraham by various faith communities and seminal modern thinkers, including pre-rabbinic Judaism, the Talmud, Christianity, Freud, Hegel, and Kafka.
A quip about the medieval Jewish philosopher Maimonides seems apt. He has been so used and misused by subsequent scholars in support of their personal beliefs that there is My-monides and Your-monides. Julius has offered us his Abraham. The reader may choose to sacrifice it on the altar.
Domestic politics play a role in this positioning. Canada’s large Ukrainian diaspora — one of the biggest in the world — ensures that support for Kyiv is a near-universal political consensus. By contrast, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is deeply polarizing, with large segments of the Liberal electorate critical of Israeli policy. To avoid alienating key voter blocs, Carney has opted for a middle ground that lacks strategic coherence or vision.‘Dry Bones’ cartoonist Yaakov Kirschen dies at 87
But if Israel faces another escalation from Iran or Hezbollah, or if Washington pressures allies to align more closely with its pro-Israel position, Canada may be forced to choose between diplomatic neutrality and its alliance with the U.S. A failure to support Israel could deepen divisions within the western alliance.
Ultimately, the U.S. and Canada’s opposing priorities are self-defeating. The same adversaries are behind both conflicts. Tehran supplies Moscow with drones and other advanced military equipment to sustain its war against Ukraine, while Russia has provided Iran with military aircraft, intelligence and assistance in bypassing sanctions.
In addition, both countries seek to undermine the West by draining its resources, eroding its unity and proving that democracies lack the will to fight. If the West cannot recognize this interconnected challenge, it will remain a step behind its adversaries.
This division also fuels cynicism among allies. In eastern Europe, there is growing frustration that the U.S. prioritizes Israel over Ukraine. In the Middle East, there is anger that western countries that rush to defend Ukraine show hesitation when Israel is attacked. These perceptions matter. They shape alliances and determine how willing nations will be to stand with the West in future crises.
Moreover, failing to support both Ukraine and Israel weakens deterrence elsewhere. Nowhere is this clearer than in Taiwan. China watches how the U.S. and its allies handle these conflicts. A western failure to sustain Ukraine would reinforce Beijing’s belief that the U.S. will not intervene forcefully if Taiwan is attacked. Taiwan is now more vulnerable than ever.
All told, the West does not have the luxury of picking its battles. The U.S. should not allow domestic politics to weaken Ukraine’s war effort, and Canada must overcome its reluctance to fully support Israel — its strongest and oldest regional ally.
Instead of reacting to crises as they arise, the West must proactively strengthen deterrence against authoritarian actors. This means permanent military aid for Ukraine and Israel, enhanced NATO co-ordination in eastern Europe and a clearer containment strategy for Iran.
If the West cannot muster the will to defend Ukraine and Israel simultaneously, it will lose more than two wars — it will lose its credibility, its deterrence and, ultimately, its global leadership.
Israeli cartoonist Yaakov Kirschen, whose iconic daily cartoons were published by JNS for the last several years, died at Meir Medical Center in Kfar Saba on Monday after a lengthy illness, aged 87.
After making aliyah in 1971, the Brooklyn-born Kirschen began sketching his trademark “Dry Bones” cartoons in 1973. The cartoon was internationally syndicated and published in The Jerusalem Post for 50 years, after which Kirschen moved to JNS.
The name of Kirschen’s comic strip referred to the biblical vision of the “Valley of Dry Bones,” with its main character named Shuldig, which is Yiddish for guilty or blame.
“The cartoon started on January 1, 1973,” he once explained. “I named it Dry Bones, thinking that everyone would immediately connect the name with the ‘dry bones’ that will rise again, from the Book of Ezekiel. But the question that I get asked most often is ‘Where does the name ‘Dry Bones’ come from?’ So what I thought would be most obvious was not obvious at all.”
A member of the U.S. National Cartoonists Society and the Israeli Cartoonists Society, Kirschen won several awards and was considered a “national treasure of the Jewish people.” Among the prizes he received were the Israeli Museum of Caricature and Comics’ Golden Pencil Award and the 2014 Nefesh B’Nefesh Bonei Zion Prize for his contribution to Israeli culture and the arts.
He is survived by his artist wife, Sali Ariel, three daughters, three grandchildren and three great-grandchildren.






















