It would be best if you met my other son, a doctor

Israel is a hotbed of innovation in the audiovisual sector, with film scripts and series ideas that have rocked the world. “Fauda,” “Shtisel,” “Euphoria” (adopted by HBO), “Hatufim” (the original inspiration for “Homeland”), and “False Flag” are just a few examples of the creative Israeli products that have stood out in global media. However, as inventive as they are, my compatriots born in this land of “Eretz Yisrael” would never have dreamed of the solution that Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, two Jews of the diaspora, created for humanity when they invented Superman in 1938 because they don’t know what it’s like to be a Jew in the diaspora.

Jerry Siegel was born in Cleveland, Ohio, to Lithuanian parents, and Joe Shuster was born in Toronto, Canada, to parents of Dutch and Ukrainian descent. They created the hero Kal-El, who was sent to Earth before his world was destroyed. Superman was introduced in “Action Comics #1,” published on April 18, 1938, although the cover date was June 1938. The editorial practice of dating the cover two months before the actual month of publication allowed the issue to stay on shelves longer, remnants of an analog world.

This powerful metaphor of immigration and the search for safety reflects the duality of Jewish identity. Hence, my initial assertion. Only someone with the sensibility of a diaspora Jew could conceive that a pair of ordinary glasses would be enough to hide Kal El’s second identity. This symbolic disguise illustrates the ability to walk in two worlds, hide in plain sight, and maintain a secret and unbreakable core.

Superman and his duality sincerely represent the Jewish experience in exile. Clark Kent, Kal-El’s shy and awkward persona, reflects the creators themselves, Siegel and Shuster, who, like many Jews of the diaspora, existed in two worlds – a private one and a public one. At home, they were Jews, living with cultural heritage and traditions. Outside, they were citizens of the world, trying to adapt and thrive in cultures that did not always fully accept them. For many Jews in the diaspora, living a double life is a necessity imposed by circumstances. Especially now in a world where antisemitism is once again a threat. The ability to “hide” one’s true identity can be the difference between life and death. Superman’s secret identity symbolizes this need for concealment and disguise.

Furthermore, the creation of a hero like Superman, someone who possesses powers beyond human comprehension but chooses to live as an ordinary man, reflects the aspiration of many Jews in the diaspora to integrate and contribute to their adoptive communities while carrying within them a history of resilience and strength. Kal-El is a foreigner in a new world, just as Jews are often foreigners in their lands.

The simplicity of Clark Kent’s disguise – just a pair of glasses – can be seen as a metaphor for the fragility of the barriers that separate public identity from private identity. For those who understand the depth of this duality, Clark Kent’s disguise is not just a plot device but a reflection of how identity can be subtly and almost imperceptibly molded and remolded. This perception is something that Siegel and Shuster, as Jews of the diaspora, intimately understood, as do many of us.

Superman and Clark Kent represent two facets of the same existence. With his modest appearance and reserved behavior, Clark Kent lives in the world as an observer, while Superman is the personification of power and justice, a visible and unmistakable savior. This duality resonates with the Jewish experience of camouflaging in society while carrying a deep and indestructible identity. Clark Kent’s transformation into Superman is an act of revelation, an affirmation of the true self that transcends the limitations imposed by fear and the need to “hide.”

The idea of being a Jew at home and a citizen outside is something inherent to those who have had to survive in any country other than Israel. The diaspora taught us, the Jews of the diaspora, to be masters of disguise, to hide our true identity when necessary, but never to lose sight of who we are. Superman is, in many ways, a symbol of this duality. He is the hero who emerges when necessary but also knows when to hide in plain sight, protecting his true nature with the simplicity of a pair of glasses.

You may be wondering why I’m making these connections. Calm down, I’ll explain. I wrote this text because the next Superman will be played by David Corenswet, a Jewish actor, closing a significant cycle in the character’s history and showing that art imitates life. David Corenswet, born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, is the son of parents of Jewish descent. His selection for the role of Superman is mainly symbolic for me, and I hope you agree with me now.

In other words, with David Corenswet assuming the cape and the “S” of Superman, the character’s Jewish identity is finally recognized, reinforcing the deep connection between the hero and the Jewish experience in the diaspora.

And that’s why you must meet my other son, a doctor.