My name is Zvika Klein. I am the editor-in-chief of this newspaper you’re reading. This week, I was arrested. I was placed under house arrest. In an instant, I went from a public servant to a suspect. Not even in my worst nightmares could I have imagined this.
I wasn’t always a journalist. I was born in Chicago to a warm, Zionist family. My parents, Charles and Beverly Klein, grew up in the Bnei Akiva youth movement. My siblings – my brother Avi, my sister Dina – and I were raised with the values of Zionism and a deep love for the Jewish people and the State of Israel. We made aliyah in 1985. I was a child. Here in Israel, I became a counselor in Bnei Akiva and served in the IDF as the founder and head of the religious and haredi desk in the IDF Spokesperson’s Unit. Ever since, journalism has been in my blood.
For many years, I dedicated my career to connecting Diaspora Jewry with Israel. I served as a shaliach, was the spokesperson for World Bnei Akiva, and then joined Makor Rishon, where I established the field of Diaspora affairs coverage in Israeli media – a beat that barely existed before. I brought the voice of Israel to Jewish communities around the world – and brought the voices of remote Jewish communities back to Israel. We built bridges, recognition, and support circles. Looking back over the past 15 years, I believe we sparked a revolution.
Three years ago, I joined The Jerusalem Post as a reporter and commentator on Jewish world affairs. I’ve always cared not only about the big headlines but also the human stories – and the Jewish angle. For example, when the world was focused on the World Cup in Qatar, I wanted to know: How does kosher food get there? I set out to find that story. I tried to get there. I tried to interview. I tried to tell a unique story – and eventually, I succeeded.
Zvika Klein’s trip to Qatar
In late 2023, on the eve of the war, I was appointed editor-in-chief of the paper. At the same time, Qatar became a key player in the negotiations between Israel and Hamas. I understood this was a rare journalistic opportunity. I reached out to officials representing the Qatari government and, after some back and forth, I became the first Israeli journalist to interview the prime minister of Qatar. The full story was proudly published in this paper. Nothing was hidden. Everything was done with full transparency and at the highest journalistic standards.
There were critical voices in our pages – against the article, against the visit – and we published them, too. That’s what a newspaper committed to freedom of expression does. When, about a year ago, our editorial team told me that a columnist had written a critical op-ed – against me, the article, and my trip to Qatar – and asked if we should run it, I said we must publish it in full. That is the essence of a free press – a paper that does not impose a single opinion but presents a range of perspectives.
I received nothing in return. No benefits, no payment, no promises. I came back to Israel, and apparently one fact puzzled the police: I got nothing in return. A public relations official connected to the delegation offered to promote the article in other media outlets. I agreed. The interviews aired on Channel 12 and Channel 13. I didn’t hide anything. On the contrary – it was all out in the open.
When I was asked to give an open testimony to the police, I complied, as a law-abiding citizen. I thought I could be helpful – nothing more. But then everything turned upside down.
During my testimony, I was informed that I was now being questioned under caution. My phone was taken without a warrant or explanation. I was interrogated for about 12 hours, alone, without contact with my wife – who was abroad – and without being able to speak to my children for many hours. The conditions were harsh. When leaks from the investigation began to emerge – and they are still emerging as I write these lines – I couldn’t respond. I was prohibited from speaking to the media. My good name was damaged, even before the truth could come out.
Only after several days of silence did a public outcry begin. Colleagues – journalists, editors, media professionals – asked: How could it be that in the State of Israel, a journalist is detained and interrogated for doing his job? Thankfully, I was fully released yesterday – without restrictions. It was my legal argument – that I could not publish anything as long as the investigation was ongoing – that convinced the investigators to let me go.
The time will come when the full story can be told. But it was important for me to speak to you – the readers – now, and say: I am here. We are here.
As editor-in-chief of The Jerusalem Post, we operate according to the highest journalistic standards. For 92 years, this paper has pursued truth, sought access, and delivered exclusive and original stories. That is what I’ve brought with me since the moment I became a journalist – and that’s how I’ll continue.
This case will not intimidate me. It will not intimidate my dedicated team. It will not intimidate any journalist working with integrity and courage. We are not beholden to anyone, do not serve foreign interests, and owe nothing to anyone.
The only ones we owe anything to are you, our readers. The public’s right to know is our duty. I am proud of our newspaper, proud of our team, and proud to be an Israeli journalist in a democratic country. I only hope that the law enforcement authorities remember that, too.
Zvika Klein is the editor-in-chief of The Jerusalem Post.
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