Set to premier in the U.S. in January, the Israeli film I Was Not Born a Mistake tells the story of Yiscah (né Jeffrey, formerly Yaakov) Smith, from secular American Jew to Chabad rabbi to secular gay man to a transsexual, religiously observant teacher of Judaism. Smith, drawing on various bits of kabbalah and ḥasidic thought, has even created a Jewish transgender theology, which, Sarah Rindner writes, is “not . . . much different from what many self-styled self-help gurus offer spiritually hungry audiences.” But, to Rindner, the “emptiness” of this theology is not “the most urgent question the film raises.”

What human wreckage is left in the wake of an adult’s quest to discover an elusive self, when that quest overshadows obligations to others? The film implies that while living as a secular gay man and even after adopting the identity of a religious woman, Smith maintained a relationship, however strained, with his children, all of whom remained ḥasidic. But when Smith’s children begged for their father’s memoir not to be published, lest it humiliate them, Smith, after vacillating, ignored their concerns. In Smith’s own rather disturbing words, “I am not going to go out of tune so they can be better.” Only two of the six children remain in contact with Smith.

Despite this, the audience for the screening at the Jerusalem Film Festival gave the film a standing ovation. I would like to believe that I was not alone in wondering about those children and whether viewers might have been better served to hear some of their voices.

Although Smith comes across sympathetically in I Was Not Born a Mistake, the film’s vision of womanhood as defined by lipstick, colorful formfitting clothing, and standing on the women’s side of the m’ḥitsah is shallow and brittle. Orthodox Judaism seems to appeal to Smith in part because it offers a role to play. A secular woman can dress androgynously in a T-shirt and jeans and do most public things that a man does. In contrast, in order to appear as an Orthodox woman, Smith must wear long skirts or dresses, pray in the women’s section of the synagogue, and perform rituals reserved to women (such as lighting Sabbath candles) rather than those reserved to men (such as putting on t’filin). Motherhood, and motherly devotion to children, are absent. For Smith, it seems, Orthodoxy is a bit like the exaggerated femininity of the drag queen. . . .

Smith’s story illustrates the rupture of those relationships that demand that we transcend ourselves, and are therefore the most meaningful—such as that between parents and children. That rupture opens up an endless void, which the new-age spirits of self-discovery will never be able to fill.

Yesterday, the beepers used by hundreds of Hizballah operatives were detonated. Noah Rothman puts this ingenious attack in the context of the overall war between Israel and the Iran-backed terrorist group:

[W]hile the disabling of an untold number of Hizballah operatives is remarkable, it’s also ominous. This week, the Israeli defense minister Yoav Gallant told reporters that the hour is nearing when Israeli forces will have to confront Iran’s cat’s-paw in southern Lebanon directly, in order to return the tens of thousands of Israelis who fled their homes along Lebanon’s border under fire and have not yet been able to return. Today’s operation may be a prelude to the next phase of Israel’s defensive war, a dangerous one in which the IDF will face off against an enemy with tens of thousands of fighters and over 150,000 rockets and missiles trained on Israeli cities.

Seth Frantzman, meanwhile, focuses on the specific damage the pager bombings have likely done to Hizballah:

This will put the men in hospital for a period of time. Some of them can go back to serving Hizballah, but they will not have access to one of their hands. These will most likely be their dominant hand, meaning the hand they’d also use to hold the trigger of a rifle or push the button to launch a missile.

Hizballah has already lost around 450 fighters in its eleven-month confrontation with Israel. This is a significant loss for the group. While Hizballah can replace losses, it doesn’t have an endlessly deep [supply of recruits]. This is not only because it has to invest in training and security ahead of recruitment, but also because it draws its recruits from a narrow spectrum of Lebanese society.

The overall challenge for Hizballah is not just replacing wounded and dead fighters. The group will be challenged to . . . roll out some other way to communicate with its men. The use of pagers may seem archaic, but Hizballah apparently chose to use this system because it assumed the network could not be penetrated. . . . It will also now be concerned about the penetration of its operational security. When groups like Hizballah are in chaos, they are more vulnerable to making mistakes.