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# Thank G-d for Nasser
- URL: https://www.jewsrock.org/thank-g-d-for-nasser/
- Published: 2005-09-17T12:00:00.000Z
- Updated: 2026-08-20T22:08:39.000Z
- Author: JewsRock
- Tags: Blog

*by Spencer Ackerman*

In the mid-50s, a modern-day  
Amalek seized power in Egypt. Merging a fierce critique of European  
colonialism with a strident pan-Arabism, Gamal Abdel Nasser became the  
savior of the Arabs. The final component to Nasser's charisma was an  
anti-Semitism even more virulent that the young state of Israel had  
contended with from Hajj Amin al-Husseini, the Hitler ally who had been  
mufti of Jerusalem. Eventually Nasser self-destructed by overplaying  
his hand. In May 1967, he began preparations for a "final battle" with  
Israel, evicting the United Nations from the tenuous ceasefire line in  
the Sinai peninsula. But Israel, not exactly content to see the Jewish  
people come close to extinction for the second time in barely a  
generation, struck first, destroying the Egyptian Air Force on its  
runways, the opening salvo of a climactic June confrontation that  
changed the Middle East forever. The first bomb dropped on the  
Egyptians, I'm reliably informed, had a Hebrew message painted on it,  
one that roughly translates to, "What up now, bitch?" Before  
Nasser imploded, however, he prompted a mass exodus of Egyptian Jews  
who understood what was in store for them if they stayed. And here we  
have to admit that we owe something of a debt to our enemy. All actions  
have unintended consequences. Nasser's was to bring the Mizrahi family  
from Cairo to New York. Less than twenty years later, one of its  
children, the delinquent Sylvain, hooked up with a gang of rock &  
roll transvestites. He added an extra "Sylvain" to his name, dropped  
his Sephardic last name, put on some rouge and some platforms, and  
helped bequeath unto the world the legendary New York Dolls. It's  
something of a stretch to say no Dolls, no punk rock, no salvation of  
rock & roll--but not by much. It's a bit more of a stretch to say  
to Nasser, no Mizrahi emigration, no Sylvain Sylvain and then no  
all-the-rest. But would you really want to risk it? My  
grudging appreciation for Nasser came as I caught the reformed Dolls at  
the 9:30 club in D.C. last night. I should say a third of the New York  
Dolls, since Johnny Thunders, bassist Arthur Kane and drummers Billy  
Murcia and Jerry Nolan have sadly passed away. But Sylvain and a  
living-dead David Johansen led a furiously sloppy performance of Dolls  
classics, something mind-boggling for men in their late 50s (being  
generous). There's a reason why Johnny Thunders was the lead guitarist  
way back when: at one point, Sylvain delivered a solo so ragged that it  
sounded like an electrified version of how he must have delivered his  
Torah portion. But he more than made up for it with the rest of his  
repertoire--and especially with his Johansen-baiting banter between  
songs--and in appreciation I yelled out how good Syl is for the Jews.  
He may not have heard it, but Johansen must have, because when Sylvain  
promised an adoring audience that we'd see him again soon, Buster  
Poindexter shot back, "Yeah, at the next seder." Syl, you can drink  
Elijah's wine from my table anytime. After last night, I have to say it: thanks, Nasser. Now go back to rotting in hell.