This is an important book for two reasons. First, it is a pioneering study on Yiddish in Israel, a topic that—for reasons that should be interrogated and explained—has not attracted much scholarly attention until recently. Second, the book is very well documented. It provides a wealth of information on Israeli Yiddish newspapers and journals, theater, academia, and other aspects of Yiddish and Israeli history. In her study, Rojanski unearthed many archival sources of different kinds, mostly from Israeli ministries, political parties, police, and other official governmental and local bodies. The study also makes good use of the Israeli press, both in Hebrew and in Yiddish, in order to shed light on the history of Yiddish in Israel. As such, the book should be of interest to scholars and students in Israel studies, and Jewish history, culture, and language.

Apart from a short introduction and epilogue, the book contains seven chapters. The first chapter gives an overview of state policy vis-à-vis Yiddish (and Hebrew). The second chapter deals with the varied Yiddish press that flourished in Israel between 1948 and 1968. The third chapter interrogates Yiddish theater in Israel during more or less the same period. The fourth chapter focuses on “high Yiddish culture,” namely the major journal Di goldene keyt (The golden chain), which was edited by the poet Avrom Sutzkever and published in Israel between 1949 and 1995, as well as the chair in Yiddish at the Hebrew University, which was inaugurated in 1951. The fifth chapter of the book tells the story of the establishment of the Yiddish group named Yung Yisroel (Young Israel) that produced what I consider the most important and interesting Yiddish literary texts in Israel. The sixth chapter examines a specific cultural moment, the theatrical production of the play Di megile by Itzik Manger in 1965, which according to Rojanski signaled a moment of change that went hand in hand with nostalgia and the “the return of Eastern Europe to Israel.” The last chapter provides a sweeping overview of changes regarding the status of Yiddish in Israel between the 1960s and 1990s, as well as a suggestive analysis of recent trends in Israeli history.

The main strength of the study is that it clearly demonstrates that one cannot understand Israeli history and culture without taking into account what was created in Yiddish. At the same time, one cannot understand Yiddish culture after the Holocaust without taking into account what was created in Israel. Thus, the book is truly a launching pad that will set in motion future studies of many aspects of this important and neglected topic.

In the introduction, Rojanski writes that her study “challenges the long-held view that Yiddish was suppressed and even rejected by the state of Israel” (2). In the epilogue, she reiterates that her study “strongly contradicts the claims made by Yiddish activists that there was a deliberate anti-Yiddish policy in Israel. … The state of Israel never formulated a definitive policy of Yiddish, certainly not one that negated it” (282). It is difficult to argue with this conclusion, especially because the author provides abundant evidence to back it up, but this also raises many questions: Who are those people who long held the view that there was a deliberate policy against Yiddish in Israel? More importantly, Rojanski's main argument begs the question: Why is the policy of the State of Israel towards Yiddish so significant? The book clearly shows that there was no explicit legislation against Yiddish (or for that matter against any other “foreign” language) in Israel. In chapters 2 and 3, Rojanski also proves that the restrictions that were imposed by official authorities on the Yiddish press and theater were relatively short-lived. However, the real issue, it seems to me, is not legislation, restrictions, and official policy, but the ideology of the state and the cultural assumptions of the society. If the ideology of the state and the society is antidiasporic and anti-Yiddish, who needs legislation?

Rojanski brings up the issue of cultural hegemony as explained by the influential Marxist thinker Antonio Gramsci in his “Prison Notebooks,” written between 1929 and 1935. “The question of hegemony,” Rojanski writes, “is … central to understanding the relationship between the state of Israel and Yiddish, especially during the years in which the socialist-Zionist Mapai regime worked to buttress its control over Israeli society” (12). The lack of explicit legislation against Yiddish, or restrictions on Yiddish, seems to prove that Yiddish was not suppressed or banned. But this is not how ideology works. Marxist philosophers who elaborated on Gramsci's theories in the late 1960s and early 1970s, thinkers such as Louis Althusser, made a crucial distinction between “repressive state apparatuses,” which consist of the army, the police, the judiciary, and the prison system, and “ideological state apparatuses,” which include the education system, the family, religion, systems of communication, etc. Ideological state apparatuses function by transforming individuals into subjects in a process of “interpellation.” As Althusser explains, “It is a quite different thing to act by laws and decrees in the (Repressive) State Apparatus and to ‘act’ through the intermediary of the ruling ideology in the Ideological State Apparatuses.”Footnote ¹

In order to better understand the generative, often submerged role of Yiddish in Israeli culture, one must understand how the hegemonic ideology of Israel interpellated its subjects, perhaps especially immigrants who came to Israel after its establishment from Arab-Muslim countries and from eastern Europe. Those Yiddish-speaking immigrants, refugees, and survivors who arrived in Israel after the devastation of the Holocaust, and created Yiddish culture in Israel, were hailed as subjects of the Israeli state and its ideology. At the same time, by writing in Yiddish, or on the border zone between Hebrew and Yiddish, they were “bad subjects” who could resist the nationalist ideology and self-suppression of diasporic Jewish culture and languages such as Yiddish (the same is true with Arabic, but in a different way).

Rojanski's book is the first to deal with the subject. Future studies will contend with it, argue with it, and expand it in order to provide a fuller and more nuanced picture of the literature, culture, politics, and other aspects of Yiddish in Israel.