For thousands of years, people pictured the sky as a giant dome surrounding the Earth. The stars were thought to be fixed to this dome, which slowly turned above us, much like the motion of the Sun, the Moon and the planets. This book tells the story of the scientific revolution that changed that picture forever—the moment humanity realized that the motions we see in the sky are only apparent motions, created by the Earth spinning on its axis and traveling around the Sun. The “celestial dome,” it turned out, was an illusion. It is the Earth—and the heavens—that move. This revolution began with Nicolaus Copernicus’s book On the Revolutions of the Heavenly Spheres , published in 1543, just as the author was nearing the end of his life. The bold ideas in that book sent shockwaves through the scientific world and helped lay the foundations of modern physics. They also transformed the way people thought about nature—and about humanity’s place in the universe. This book follows the dramatic story of the Copernican Revolution and the long struggle to convince the world of its truth, from Galileo’s telescopic discoveries—made with a telescope he built himself—to the fierce scientific and religious debates that followed. The Copernican Revolution opened the door to an even bigger idea: The universe is vast, stretching far beyond our solar system. The “fixed stars,” we learned, are actually distant suns, so far away that they appear as tiny points of light. From there, it was only natural to wonder whether some of those stars might have planets of their own. At the end of the twentieth century—more than 400 years after Copernicus—astronomers finally discovered that planets are everywhere, orbiting stars across the galaxy. And who knows—perhaps some of those distant worlds may even host life.

Islamic Enlightenment in a Radical Age opens a window to trends of innovation and openness in modern Islam in the mid-twentieth century, a period marked by decolonization, the rise of centralized regimes, and the emergence of Jihad organizations. Important agents in the development of the reformist discourse were Mustafa al-Saba'i and the "Muslim Brotherhood" in Syria from 1946 to 1964. Under al-Saba'i's leadership, the Muslim Brotherhood strove to establish an Islamic Enlightenment that sought to elevate the stature of believers and integrate them into the wider world, while preserving their indigenous identity. Al-Saba'i's rich intellectual and public work has been neglected in the scholarly literature, and this book brings him to the forefront and does him historical and historiographical justice. Al-Saba'i called for the revival of the heritage of Islam and its connection to universal values ​​of freedom and justice, humanism and brotherhood, democracy and nationalism. He served as a voice for the voiceless in society through a commitment to public education, social legislation, and support for women's rights, subject to moral reservations. By promoting a dynamic version of Islam—attentive and responsive to key issues on the public agenda—Al-Saba'i and his movement contributed to preserving the diversity of Islamic thought in an era of puritanism, radicalization, and violence.

Few texts have left a mark on history as profound as The Communist Manifesto . First ‎published in 1848, this brief yet explosive work by Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels became ‎one of the most influential texts in the formation of modern society and the modern self. It ‎ignited revolutions, inspired political movements, and provoked fear, resistance, and ‎enduring controversy, while offering a powerful framework for understanding the economic ‎and social forces that continue to shape our world.‎ But The Communist Manifesto is more than a political program. It is a striking work of ‎philosophical and moral reflection, grappling with the human condition in a world defined ‎by perpetual change—a world of capitalism, restless desire, and the drive toward ceaseless ‎innovation. Read anew, the Manifesto emerges as a mirror of our present moment, ‎challenging us to rethink freedom, justice, and the transformative power of ideas.‎ This book offers a fresh introduction to The Communist Manifesto and its place in the ‎history of ideas. Through close reading and conceptual analysis, it seeks to restore the ‎text’s vitality—not as a document of the past, but as a living invitation to reflect on the ‎present and imagine our collective future.‎

A Guide to Jewish Warsaw 1938 is an extraordinary book, describing a place that no longer exists: Jewish Warsaw was, as is well known, utterly destroyed in World War II. And yet, the book seeks to pretend as if everything is still intact, and it is possible to go on a tour following it or embark on an imaginary journey. Every detail is based on information pertaining to Jewish Warsaw in 1938 from countless sources: newspapers, literature, travel guides, written and oral memoirs, archives, interviews, films, and exhibitions. A Guide to Jewish Warsaw 1938 seeks to reveal the beauty hidden from the eye in the largest Jewish city in Europe before the war. The acquaintance with Jewish Warsaw is made through general and useful introductions, describing its history, its beliefs and opinions, its unique language, and its tastes and smells. At the center of the book are seven walking tours, revealing the city's delights: the antique bookstores on Świętokrzyska Street; the buffet at the Writers and Journalists Association at Tłomacka 13; the "Maccabi" swimming pool and the Bund's sports field; cantorial music at the Great Synagogue and Hasidic melodies in the Modrzyc courtyard in the resort town of Otwock; the summer terrace at the Rubinchik cafe, opening onto Krasiński Garden, "the Jewish Garden"; modern marble sculptures in the cemetery; the "Tel Aviv" cafe on Nowolipie Street; the treasures in the Jewish Museum; courtyards that are a world of their own on Nalewki Street and its surroundings, and much more.

How does the past remain present in the urban landscape—in houses, streets, and public squares—even after the culture that once sustained it has been destroyed? What happens when history is not merely an abstract memory but a material reality that continues to shape and unsettle the present? In Bloody Wednesday , Yechiel Weizman traces the ghostly presence of the Jews of Olkusz, a town in south-central Poland whose large Jewish community flourished for centuries, until the Holocaust. Despite their total physical absence, from the end of the war until today the memory of the Jews is palpable and persistent—and at the same time silenced and repressed—in every street corner: in empty houses, in abandoned cemeteries and synagogues, in plaques and monuments, and through the ongoing public debates about property, heritage, and commemoration. Using the case study of a single Polish town, the book shows how the urban topography of Eastern Europe was continuously reshaped and redefined in relation to the legacy of the Second World War, the question of Jewish property, and the politics of Holocaust memory during the Communist period and after the fall of the Iron Curtain. Adopting a microhistorical lens and examining the smallest details of everyday life and urban history, the book reveals how the persistent debate over the presence of the dead Jews in the concrete and imagined spaces of one small town became a dramatic arena for a painful, intimate, and nostalgic confrontation with the violent fingerprints of the twentieth century and with pressing questions of responsibility, ethics, and guilt.

The book sheds light on the aims and achievements of the twelve first female members, who served in the first Israeli Knesset, and in particular on the perception of the status of women in the early years of the state. This study examines the heated debates that arose with the legislation of the following laws: the Marriage Age Law; the Income Tax Ordinance, which serves as a mirror of the status of the married woman; the Security Service Law, which can contribute to the understanding of Israeli society; and the Women’s Equal Rights Law of 1951, whose enactment concluded the work of the first Knesset. The influence of this legislation is felt to this day.

Immediately upon the establishment of the State of Israel, Israel welcomed approximately 720,000 as part of the Great Aliyah. More than one third of these newcomers, immigrants and refugees, were housed in immigrant camps and later in transit camps known as maabarot . Some were later removed from them or left on their own accord; others remained in the maabarot for many years, and the maabarot remained within them. In their early years, the maabarot played an important social role and gave rise to new interethnic relations and new identities. Within a short period of time, and in a space intended to serve as a temporary way station, a shared form of existence emerged in the maabarot. It established principles of organization, fostered cooperation that crossed boundaries of ethnic and communal origin, and created communal cohesion that developed despite the limitations imposed by the absorbing establishment. This book reexamines life in the maabarot through a division into three distinct subperiods that reflect profound changes in social composition, in patterns of power, and in the immigrants’ consciousness of identity. The elimination of the heterogeneity that had characterized the social fabric not only changed the status of the residents in the eyes of the state and society, but also narrowed the social and future possibilities that had opened before them. Through an examination of diverse sources, a detailed depiction of everyday life, and a thematic analysis of language, religion, and education, a formative chapter in the social history of Israel is revealed through the world of the immigrants as they themselves shaped it. From a charged encounter among diasporas, social groups, and a harsh, brutal, and impossible daily routine, a society emerges that has until now remained at the margins of historical research.

Muslim beliefs have inspired charitable giving for over fourteen centuries, yet Islamic history has rarely been examined from this perspective. In Charity in Islamic Societies , Amy Singer explains the basic concepts and institutions of Muslim charity: the obligatory annual payment of zakat together with voluntary donations of all sizes, undertaken at every level of society, and across the span of individual lifetimes. Charitable endowments – established by rulers, wealthy individuals, and even those of more modest means – shaped Muslim societies, cultures, and landscapes in ever era. This book demonstrates how historical circumstances, social status, gender, age, and other factors interacted with religious ideals to produce a vast array of charitable practices, from the early days of Islam to the present. Relying on evidence from written texts, buildings, images, and objects to anchor the discussions in each chapter, the author explores the motivations for charity, its impact on the rich and the poor, and the politicization of giving, arguing that the study of philanthropy affords a unique prism through which to examine the past.

Usury: Moneylending, Money and Society in Rabbinic Literature is a study of the moneylending norms in the early stratum of rabbinic literature. It shows how these norms use the language of legal formalism to construct a community of status-equals, into which rabbinic adherents can buy their entry by making the correct investment choices. Placing these norms in a broad historical and intercultural context, it is a fresh look at Jewish moneylending norms, the first in over 30 years.

This book examines Israeli-German relations after the fall of the Berlin Wall and during the reigns of three chancellors: Helmut Kohl, Gerhard Schröder, and Angela Merkel. The book is the product of research based on various sources, and primarily on dozens of interviews the author conducted with key figures involved in the relations between the countries. The generational change in Germany and the internal and international normalization process that the Federal Republic underwent following the German unification did not harm the special relations with Israel. On the contrary: At their peak, in 2008, against the backdrop of the worsening nuclear threat from Iran, Chancellor Merkel declared that Israel's security was part of Germany's national interest. The book describes the contribution of the relations between the countries to the development of the State of Israel and its strengthening in vital areas, and even to its close ties with the European Union. These relations have been put to the test in recent decades, after controversy surrounding foreign policy issues between the two countries increased and the negative trend towards Israeli policy in German public opinion polls strengthened. All of this has raised question marks about the future of the special relationship between the two countries.

Anti-Semitism emerged in the late nineteenth century as a political movement that swept the masses. It presented a worldview in which a cohesive tribe called "the Jews" conspired to rule the earth by controlling international capital markets, trade, and money lending, while at the same time working to destroy—through revolutionary plots—the very capitalist system it supposedly controlled. It is easy to draw a straight line from this paranoid thinking at the turn of the century to the murderous delusions of fascism in the twentieth century. But, argues Laura Engelstein, the line was not straight. Anti-Semitism as a political weapon had its opponents, even in Eastern Europe, where its consequences were particularly terrible. Jewish leaders who joined forces in various countries and in cooperation with non-Jewish public figures worked for the rights of Jews and in firm opposition to persecution and acts of violence against Jews. In Tsarist and Soviet Russia, as well as in Poland and Ukraine – regions notorious in the West as centers of hatred for Jews – there were also those who saw anti-Semitism as a harmful burden on society and their movement. In the introduction to the book, Engelstein describes the different ways in which Jews were treated through the ways in which one Jew, Maurice Greenfeld, the author's grandfather, dealt with the upheavals of World War I, the Russian Revolution, and the civil war that followed, including the expressions of hostility and sympathy he encountered throughout his life. In the following chapters, she reveals the – sometimes surprising – positions of Russian liberals such as Prince Sergei Urusov, Ukrainian leader Symon Petliura, and Polish émigré in Paris Andrzej Bobkowski. The chapters on the inevitable rise of anti-Semitism thus examine the complex reasons why leaders and intellectuals renounced pogroms and incitement against the Jewish population. Engelstein added a short introduction to the Hebrew edition of the book.

The Military Government was established during the war and operated within the army, but it promoted political and ideological objectives. In July 1948, David Ben Gurion established it as body intended to govern the Palestinians who remained in Israel. Its main objectives were threefold: to facilitate the transfer of Palestinian land into Jewish hands; to exclude Palestinians from the labor market and prevent them from organizing on a national basis. The Military Government promoted these objectives through a bureaucratic mechanism that prevented the Palestinians citizens of Israel from leaving their place of residence without the governor's approval. The supporters of the Military Government were well aware of the fact that its existence makes Israel a non-democratic state. They supported its existence because they believed it was necessary to maintain Israel's Jewish character. The Military Government was controversial in the political system in Israel, but the intensity of the opposition to its existence was sometimes contingent on the partisan and ideological interests of the opponents, both from the left and the right. The book describes the factors that shaped the political system's relationship with the Military Government and traces the changing strength of the debate surrounding it. The book seeks, among other things, to answer the question of whether Prime Minister Levi Eshkol's decision to abolish the Military Government in December 1966 was due to the struggle of the opponents or rather from the recognition that the Military Government had fulfilled its objectives.