A Hasidic yeshiva stuck in limbo at the start of the school year is just the latest victim of the civil war consuming the oldest Orthodox synagogue in Williamsburg, which is also the last remaining Modern Orthodox synagogue in the Satmar Hasidic enclave.

The latest flare-up began when the old-timer faction of the congregation learned that the newcomers planned to rent out the synagogue’s main sanctuary to Yeshiva Ohel Elozer, a Satmar boys' high school. According to documents, including a summary of the lease, the lease was for four years: $5,000 per month for the first two years, and $8,000 for the next two.

The question of whether or not to rent out space to the yeshiva is the latest point of contention in the argument between congregants at Congregation Beth Jacob Ohev Shalom. The dispute has its roots in the changing membership when an influx of Hasidim who felt rejected from traditional Satmar spaces began finding a community in the historically Modern Orthodox synagogue.

For some years the two parts of the community got along, but recently, some of the newcomers have engaged in what a representative for the old-timers calls a "scheme to shut down the synagogue and convert the Congregation’s Property and assets for their personal use." The two camps disagree over what to do with the building, who is on the board of the synagogue, and who is even considered a member.

Synagogue old-timers, who are mostly Modern Orthodox, oppose renting the synagogue’s sanctuary to anyone, certainly not at what they consider to be the cut price offered to the yeshiva. But newcomers, who are mostly Hasidic and led by Israel Leichter, argue the yeshiva lease will bring needed funds.

A Kings County Supreme Court judge ruled last Tuesday that for now, Ohel Elozer, cannot move into the Rodney Street building. It’s unclear where the judge’s order leaves the high school, which, according to documents obtained through New York’s Freedom of Information Law, was recently housed in a nearby building on Classon Avenue. Jacob Jacobowitz, an administrator for the yeshiva who is also active in the synagogue dispute, did not immediately respond to messages from Shtetl.

Carlota "America" Ruiz, a longtime Modern Orthodox congregant, says the space is worth something like $18,000 per month — more than three times the price her fellow congregants sought to charge. She calculated that number based on an offer from a tenant who proposed paying $40 per square foot annually for the 5,500 square foot space. Her faction of congregants did not pursue this offer because they did not want to rent out the sanctuary, but rather use it for daily prayer.

Meyer Silber, an attorney for Ruiz and other plaintiffs, said the proposed lease to the yeshiva was never presented to the membership for approval. He also argues that renting out the sanctuary and some other areas would amount to renting the entire space, which, for non-profits, requires approval from the New York State Attorney General’s office. Silber says because of the lease, the sanctuary was locked to members one recent Shabbat, preventing congregants from praying there.

In a message to Shtetl, Leichter said the rent the synagogue agreed to charge the yeshiva was calculated partly based on calculations done by a member of Ruiz’s faction of congregants. He declined to explain further, saying he could not comment without approval from the synagogue board.

Silber accuses Leichter and other defendants of a "scheme to shut down the synagogue," which he says has included "engaging in violence" to block members from accessing the congregation, changing the locks, locking the sanctuary with chains, and more.

At a recent disputed board election, both camps appeared to have hired private security guards. This reporter was injured when Jacobowitz and a security guard, in the process of pushing each other, rammed into her.

Judge Lisa Ottley’s temporary injunction favored Ruiz’s camp, and prohibited the defendants not only from renting out space to the yeshiva, but also from "interfering with Plaintiffs and the Congregation's members rights to possess and use the main sanctuary or any other part of the congregation’s property."

At the disputed board election, a New York City Police Department officer who’d been called to help keep the peace between the two camps commented on the passionate emotions and complex web of alliances on display.

"I’m going to need an aspirin after this one."