As a kid growing up in a close-knit north London Jewish family, I was part of a Friday night ritual that was replicated in thousands of Jewish homes across the country. We would go to my grandmother’s for supper (featuring the best chicken soup this side of the Atlantic), would listen to a couple of perfunctory prayers over wine and bread, disagree violently over the chopped liver about the political controversy of the day, and then settle down to discuss that day’s required reading: the newly delivered Jewish Chronicle. Top of the reading agenda was invariably the “Hatch, Match and...
Monitoring Antisemitism Intel
