WORTH READ: Rabbi Moshe Indig, Satmar Ahronim leader who endorsed Mamdani, defends move in this interview ⬇️
— Jacob N. Kornbluh (@jacobkornbluh) November 26, 2025
“Getting guarantees from him before the election gives me critical leverage afterward — if he fails to be a friend, I can call him on his promise to be there for us.” pic.twitter.com/933occ5xpK
In a scene that is capturing widespread attention across Israeli social media, a brief nine-second video has ignited powerful emotion and debate. The clip shows Ba’ash Indursky, a young woman from the Belz Hasidic community, stepping forward to enlist in the Israel Border Police — with her traditionally observant father, Shlomo Indursky, at her side.
Indursky, a senior administrative director at the Belz headquarters in Jerusalem, is seen wrapping his daughter in a long, heartfelt embrace before she enters the enlistment base. Family members surround the pair, offering support in what has become an unusually public moment of unity from a sector where military enlistment, especially for women, remains exceedingly rare.
The video, published by media figure Yossi Reiner, has sparked a wave of reactions online. Many viewers praised the father’s unwavering love and the daughter’s determination; others highlighted the cultural significance of a Hasidic woman enlisting with her family’s full support.
In just seconds, the clip captures a striking intersection of faith, family, and national service — a moment that continues to echo across the public conversation in Israel.
In the months after October 7, 2023, when Hamas attacked Israel and the war in Gaza began, a wave of young Americans—mostly progressive women—embraced Islam.
Taking to TikTok and Instagram, they called themselves “reverts,” the Muslim term for converts who have returned to the faith of humanity’s origin. For a generation raised on social media activism, the apparent religious conviction of Gazans under bombardment looked like the purest form of authenticity.
Two years later, many of those same converts are quiet on the subject of Gaza—and, facing pushback from within the Muslim community, many have gone quiet on social media altogether.
The enthusiasm that once filled TikTok with teary testimonies, hijab tutorials, and verses from the Qur’an has ebbed. The algorithm has moved on, and the women who found God through Gaza have had to learn what faith looks like when the cameras turn elsewhere. The fervor has thinned into a few scattered believers contending with backlash, burnout, and the realities of a faith that doesn’t behave like an online fandom.
Like many converts, these young women were initially full of zeal and excited to share it. But the “reverts” of TikTok have learned the downside of posting through their faith journeys.
Ayoub, who competed in the Miss Universe pageant on Friday, was featured in a glam article by The Cut for being the first-ever woman to hold the Miss Palestine title, heralding her for her dedication to humanitarian work — painting her as a voice for unity, hope, and a people “more than their suffering.”
But the glossed-up, glowing profile titled “The First Miss Palestine Has Seen Some Things” glaringly left out a segment of her life — anything that happened between graduating college and 2022.
It was during that time that she married Sharaf Barghouti — the son of the infamous Fatah leader Marwan Barghouti serving five life sentences in Israel for orchestrating terror attacks that killed five people in 2001 and 2002 — and later had a son they named after the convicted terrorist, according to an exhaustive investigation by The Post.
Old social-media snapshots and rambling family posts — many of when have since been scrubbed from the internet — show Ayoub calling Sharaf her “fiance” ahead of their 2016 wedding.
In posts from 2019, family members congratulated she and her husband on the birth of their son, wishing he would grow up to be like his terrorist grandfather.
“May he be raised with your dignity my dears and hopefully he will be like Mr. Marwan the great,” one person wrote.
She also taught fitness classes at a gym in Ramallah called “IQ Fitness,” owned by another of Marwan Barghouti’s sons. In at least one Instagram post, the gym referred to her as “Nadeen Barghouti.”
But none of that made it into the glowing profile, which instead the glamor of her pageant participation — noting the “30 gowns she brought for the competition”; her garnering of support from celebrity Bella Hadid and sponsors like Huda Beauty and behind-the-scenes gossip about other beauty queens.
“Miss Canada and Miss Kyrgyzstan want her to win for Palestine. But sometimes it’s like “Mean Girls, Ayoub says” the outlet wrote. “Miss Iraq keeps stirring the pot, trying to get Ayoub to sympathize with Shiraz. ‘Like, hello, you’re Iraq,’ Ayoub says. ‘Do you not remember what happened to you?’”
It also throws under the bus Miss Israel Melanie Shiraz, who received death threats after Ayoub posted an unofficial video that appeared to have been edited to make a momentary glance in Miss Palestine’s direction look as if the woman representing the Jewish state as a look of disgust at the controversial beauty queen.
On July 29, 2024, a Military Police team raided the Sde Teiman holding facility, where fighters from Hamas’ elite Nukhba unit—which spearheaded the Oct. 7 massacres—were being held. Their targets were not the terrorists.
Instead, they had arrived to arrest a group of IDF reservists serving there on guard duty. Their faces covered in masks, 40 Israeli Military Police officers disarmed and arrested 10 members of Force 100, which was in charge of security incidents at the jail.
The raid quickly got out of hand.
When other members of Force 100 learned of the arrest of their colleagues, they confronted the arresting officers—compelling them to use force. The whole strange affair was recorded on multiple cellphones and posted in real time on social media. By nightfall of the same day, the press in Israel and around the world would learn the cause of the raid: The arrested reservists were suspected—falsely, it would turn out—of raping a detained Palestinian terrorist.
Thus began a public scandal that would become one of the major stains on Israel’s reputation worldwide. Where the United Nations, foreign-funded information operations, and the biases of the international press may have all been to blame for weaponizing a series of medieval libels against Israel during the Gaza war—like Israeli snipers supposedly targeting babies or starving children or using the “cover” of war against Hamas to commit “genocide” or targeting Christians by “burning a church” in the West Bank (a grass fire outside an ancient archeological site) or “deliberately targeting” a Catholic church in Gaza whose outer courtyard wall was struck by an errant tank shell—the source for this fake atrocity story was different: The IDF itself.
A woman from Bnei Brak struggled for years to conceive. After much hardship, tears, and medical intervention, she finally became pregnant with quadruplets. The doctors advised her to reduce the pregnancy by aborting one fetus, explaining that this would strengthen the chances of survival for the remaining three.
The woman recalls seeking guidance from Rav Chaim, who told her not to proceed with the abortion, assuring her that all four would be born healthy. Sadly, the opposite occurred: all four babies died, leaving her childless for the rest of her life.
Stories like this are rarely publicized; instead, the community tends to highlight only the successful outcomes.
The lesson is clear: people should place their trust in the Creator, rather than in human figures who, despite their stature, are fallible and limited in knowledge.
Rahmanullah Lakanwal
Menin, a longtime city official and a Jewish resident of Manhattan’s Upper East Side, would be the first Jewish woman to lead the Council.
She represents a faction of Democrats that strongly opposed Mayor-elect Zohran Mamdani’s rise, and pointedly did not endorse him, even after he won the primary.
