Hasidic Life in Jaffa: The Story of the Bitshkov Rebbe and a City Transformed

Jaffa, Then and Now
Today’s Jaffa is a far cry from its gritty past. With its gentrified charm, trendy cafes, and skyrocketing real estate, it’s become a stylish extension of Tel Aviv. Jerusalem Boulevard, once weathered and weary, now boasts upscale music stores, banks, and a distinctly Tel Avivian aesthetic. Yet, tucked between these symbols of modernization lies a world most passersby would never expect: a vibrant Hasidic community known as Bitshkov.

Just meters from the local mosque and the ever-busy Abu-Hilweh butcher shop, in a European-style building that seems airlifted from Antwerp, stands the Bitshkov Hasidic beit midrash (study hall), home to a modest but fiercely rooted Hasidic community from the Kretchnif dynasty.

A Spiritual Mosaic: Hasidic Life Amid Jaffa's Diversity
The Bitshkov synagogue isn’t just a throwback; it’s a living, breathing spiritual hub. Its congregants form a microcosm of modern Israeli Judaism: traditional Hasidim, ba’alei teshuva (people who recently adopted a religious lifestyle), Sephardic Jews, and secular seekers alike. Some travel from ultra-Orthodox Bnei Brak; others are Jaffa natives reclaiming their roots.

In this sanctuary, you might hear a soulful nigun (melody) echoing minutes after the muezzin’s call to prayer. You might see Gur Hasidim poring over Likutei Moharan, Rabbi Nachman of Breslov’s seminal work, across from tattooed Tel Avivians moved by the Rebbe’s warmth. The lines between secular and religious blur in this house of prayer and learning, offering a rare glimpse into spiritual coexistence.

A Jar of Manna and a Rebbe of the People
In earlier years, Bitshkov operated a special kollel (study group) for ba’alei teshuva, supported by a grassroots tradition known as “the jar of manna," which was an envelope that was passed around for donations. Though sometimes empty, the funds always appeared at the last moment, like manna from heaven.

The Rebbe, the late Rabbi Shmuel Shmelka Zeida, believed in small steps with a big heart. “Penny by penny,” he would say. His mission wasn’t to build empires, but to touch souls, one Jew at a time.

And touch them he did. Stories abound of his kindness: sending handwritten letters to weddings he couldn't attend, offering his home to strangers during hard times, even having matching dresses sewn for guests’ daughters so they wouldn’t feel out of place.

Jaffa’s Fragile Balance: Between Tension and Togetherness
Despite its spiritual vitality, life in Jaffa has its share of tensions. Arab-Jewish relations in the city have seen highs and lows, from the 1994 riots (in the aftermath of the massacre in the Machpelah Cave) to more recent disputes. Jews claim they're being pushed out by unrest; Arabs say luxury housing projects like Andromeda Hill are squeezing them out. Yet amidst this, there are glimpses of real human connection, like a secular Arab neighbor lending a ladder to help build a sukkah.

The population remains mixed. As of the late 2000s, Jaffa had roughly 46,500 residents, about 30,000 Jews and 16,000 Arabs. And despite the friction, the everyday reality often tells a more hopeful story. As one Bitshkov worshipper put it, “During Ne’ilah, Jews from all walks of life stood beside the Rebbe, some covered in tattoos. It was unbelievable.”

Legacy of Light: The Bitshkov Rebbe's Lasting Impact
The Rebbe of Bitshkov, Rabbi Shmuel Zeida, was no ordinary spiritual leader. A son-in-law of the former Chief Rabbi of Jaffa, Rabbi Moshe Zeev Friedman, he took up his post in Jaffa under great adversity. Local Muslim youths once tried to set fire to the synagogue; others attacked him physically. Still, he stood firm, driven by a Divine mission to maintain a Jewish presence and spirit in this ancient port city.

After his sudden passing at just 62, many people shared stories of miracles and transformations. The man who once delayed morning prayers to catch passersby and invite them to don tefillin had inspired hundreds to reconnect with their roots. His table on Shabbat was always full of strangers, seekers, and those hungry for something more than food.

Bitshkov Today: A Sacred Spark in a Changing City
The study houses he established remain. Torah classes continue, echoing with teachings of his father-in-law’s book Korban Moshe. Worshippers still gather for tishes (a celebratory meal held by Hasidic rabbis on Shabbat for their followers) and prayers. The neighborhood may change around them, but the fire within Bitshkov burns steadily.

Bitshkov is not just about Hasidic tradition. It’s about bridging the gaps between old and new, sacred and secular, Tel Avivian and ultra-Orthodox. It’s about making space for every kind of Jew, without judgment or pretense.

In a city known for reinvention, Bitshkov is proof that a spiritual legacy can not only survive. It can thrive, even in the most unlikely places.

View of the Beit Midrash from outside

You can reach the author, Avraham Israel Friedman @ abyisrael@gmail.com