“Far, far away from our areas, somewhere beyond the Mountains of Darkness, on the other side of the Sambatyon River…there lives a nation known as the Red Jews.” The Red Jews are best known from classic Yiddish writing, most notably from Mendele's Kitser masoes Binyomin hashlishi (The Brief Travels of Benjamin the Third). This novel, first published in 1878, represents the initial appearance of the Red Jews in modern Yiddish literature. This comical travelogue describes the adventures of Benjamin, who sets off in search of the legendary Red Jews. But who are these Red Jews or, in Yiddish, di royte yidelekh? The term denotes the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel, the ten tribes that in biblical times had composed the Northern Kingdom of Israel until they were exiled by the Assyrians in the eighth century BCE. Over time, the myth of their return emerged, and they were said to live in an uncharted location beyond the mysterious Sambatyon River, where they would remain until the Messiah's arrival at the end of time, when they would rejoin the rest of the Jewish people.

“Black” themes held a substantial place in twentieth-century American Yiddish poetry and prose, as well as in Yiddish journalism. As Hasia Diner notes in her work on Jews and blacks in the United States in the twentieth century, Jews sympathized with the plight of American blacks and their fight for civil rights. However, this had not always been the case, as evidenced by the many staunch Jewish supporters of slavery and Jewish slave owners and traders. Jonathan Schorsch claims that “under the sign of the Haskala…little changed” in this respect. In discussing a reference by Isaac Satanov to black slavery, Schorsch notes:

When Chief Rabbi Ḥayim (Vittorio) Castiglioni of Rome (b. 1840) passed away in 1911, he was cremated as per his request and his ashes were then buried in the Jewish cemetery of his native Trieste. One local Jewish newspaper pointed out that Castiglioni's position—cremation is permitted according to Jewish law and is even preferable to traditional burial—was definitely a minority one within the Italian rabbinate. By no means, however, was he accused by any of his rabbinic colleagues of being a heretic.

The literary works of many Israeli novelists and poets—among them Ḥaim Hazaz, Nathan Bistriski, Uri Ẓvi Greenberg, Amir Gilboa, Theodor Herzl, Abraham Samuel Stein, Zalman Shazar, Benyamin Shvili, and Yehoram Ben Meir—reference and develop the themes of Sabbatai Ẓvi and the Sabbatean movement; and scholars have explored the use of messianism in general and Sabbateanism in particular in Israeli literature. Yet no one has comprehensively examined the role that the Sabbatean movement plays in the oeuvre of S. Y. Agnon, the most important Hebrew writer of the twentieth century, despite numerous references to it in his work.

Several scholars have noted the affinity of the German Orthodox thinker Isaac Breuer (1883–1946) for the philosophy of Immanuel Kant. In fact, legend has it that Breuer had two large pictures hanging over the desk in his study: one of his grandfather Samson Raphael Hirsch and, next to it, a picture of the philosopher from Königsberg, as if in perfect harmony. Just as Maimonides, eight hundred years earlier, had tried to reconcile the biblical Moses with Aristotle in the Guide of the Perplexed, Breuer attempted to explain Hirsch's theology using Kantian terminology. But if Maimonides interpreted the Torah of Moses to fit the needs of Aristotelian metaphysics, Breuer did the opposite: he had Kant's epistemology yield to the needs of his own interpretation of the Torah.

In 1953 the government of the newly founded state of Israel sent an elite army unit to attack the village of Kibiyeh, just across the Jordanian border. The attack was in reprisal for violence against Jewish villages on the Israeli side of the border. Since the end of the 1948 war, armed groups from Jordanian border towns had been infiltrating Israel and terrorizing its citizens, and in one such raid on the village of Yehud, a woman and her two young children were killed. The Israeli attack on Kibiyeh was in response to that incident. Kibiyeh was chosen as the target because the perpetrators of the violence in Yehud had apparently come from there. In the Kibiyeh raid, several dozen Arabs were killed, including women and children. Condemnation of the raid from the international community was swift. Opinion in Israel was mostly supportive of the operation, though a vocal minority opposed it.