Our Resilient Jewish Spirit

This Shabbat is another special day on the Hebrew Calendar. It is שבת נחמו Shabbat Nachamu. 

Shabbat Nachamu ("Shabbath of comfort/ing) takes its name from the Haftarah from the Book of Isaiah 40:1-26. It is called by this name because of the Haftarah’s opening words,נחמו נחמו עמי " “ : Be comforted, be comforted my People.”  It speaks of comforting the Jewish people for their suffering. It the first of seven Haftarot of consolation leading up to the holiday of Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year.

For me, this National milestone also bears a personal significance. It was on Shabbat Nachamu that my parents were liberated from the Nazi camps, seventy two years ago.

Growing up in the shadow of the Shoah, that is the date my parents always mentioned when asked about their liberation. Some found it strange. Why? You may ask.

Most people would remember and mark the Gregorian Calendar date as their anniversary of such an important event in their lives. Strangely enough, I never knew it by any other date other than “Shabbat Nachamu.” I doubt my parents ever remembered or at least did know the Gregorian date at some stage. Now, more than ever, I find it odd that they never remembered their Hebrew birth date, yet remembered the Hebrew date of their rescue from the inferno. That oddity is woven with bright coloured threads that send shivers through my spine each time that I stop to think about it.

It is only this year that I finally realized the significance or the symbolism of this date.

Firstly, for Jews to remember, observe and commemorate Jewish holidays and events, while being inmates of death camps in a hostile environment that tried to erase every connection to their essence as Jews, is commendable. As the years go by, I learn and read more and more stories of how some Jews risked their lives during those years to hang on to every possible shred of Jewish tradition. That is truly inspiring.

Clinging to their wonderful tradition, the customs, the celebrations at least through remembering them, infused in them the hope for better days and the firm belief that the “Eternal of Yisrael shall Never Lie.” What a fountain of optimism and courage it must have unfrozen in them. Their resilience was second to none.

Moreover, in Yiddish, the lingua franca of most European Jews upon whom the Shoah was brought, this disastrous event in Jewish history has come to be known as “Der Churben” דער חורבן  (The Destruction). This is the same name that was given by Jews to the destruction of both Temples, which according to tradition were both destroyed on Tisha B’Av, the ninth of the Hebrew month of Av,  חורבן בית המקדש (the Destruction of the Temple).

How appropriate, then, that the Liberation of these Jews, who did all they could to cling to their Judaism, took place on the very day we console Am Yisrael on all of its sufferings.

And the parallel between their survival and that of Am Yisrael goes further than that. Like Am Yisrael, my parents and many other Jews were liberated to see the resurrection and the fulfillment of Jewish prophecy. They came out of the Abyss, collected the broken pieces of their shattered lives and built a bigger and stronger tabernacle out of it in Eretz Yisrael.

May Am Yisrael continue to thrive on our Promised Land and make our Jewish Homeland go from strength to strength for ever and ever.

Amen!

Hatred or Prejudice, who benefits?

This article was written jointly by Roger Froikin and Bat-Zion Susskind-Sacks

Both hatred, and prejudice have plagued humanity since early days. Unfortunately, they still do.

Since we all have our own different conception of what they mean, we decided, for the sake of this article, its clarity and its endeavor to share our opinion and view on its subject, to provide an objective definition of the two terms.

The Cambridge Dictionary defines Hatred as: “an extremely strong feeling of dislike.” “Prejudice” is defined by it as: “an unfair and unreasonable opinion or feeling when formed without enough thought or knowledge.” 

The common denominator these two terms share, as we believe the readers will agree with us, is that they both reside in the domain of emotions, not the rational one in us, humans.

 We also believe that almost everyone today acknowledges that these are sentiments that tend to be destructive and should, therefore, be put in the past in favor of fact, objectivity and rationality. Yet they are not. They are with us. It is a shame that, in this day and age, we need to discuss “hatred” or “prejudice.”

Moreover, we both feel that the problems they present are growing, not diminishing.  All one needs to do is look around the world. And while looking, one should try to understand why there is prejudice and why there is hatred, and maybe most of all ask, who benefits from both?

We all have our preferences, some rational, some not. So long as none of these preferences are imposed on others to their disadvantage, we could all live with it and practice the dignity of difference. Prejudice and hatred, as we suggested above, operate on an irrational plane. They motivate through unthinking emotions, no matter how well rationalized by those employing them or the damaging behaviours they produce.

Many studies have shown that prejudice is learned. Others have suggested that prejudice is innate. Whatever its source is, one fact remains clear, however. It is the taking of natural affinities and worries, and turning them into methods humans adopt to defend what we perceive as our interests or feed our egos irrationally where there is really no advantage for us.

Hatred, on the other hand, is something a bit simpler. Hate is the response to loss and to fear. People hate those that take something from them, those that injure them and those that hurt their interests. People hate anyone or anything that causes them to lose something.

Unfortunately, too often people hate what they have been taught to hate. In some cases, hatred is acquired and built upon our innate prejudices which some elements outside of us capitalize upon, stoke and simmer to the full fire of hatred. Those who fall prey to such destructive influences are oblivious to them, and are involuntarily fulfilling some socially demanded rule. By doing so, they become part of something bigger than themselves. Hatred, in these cases, gets the victims of such antics nothing, neither compensation for loss, nor justice, nor any reward.

The big question one should ask them is, WHO IS THE BENEFICIARY? WHO BENEFITS FROM PREJUDICE? WHO BENEFITS FROM HATRED?

Whatever and wherever the trigger for hatred is or rests, whether it’s racial bigotry, Anti-Semitism, Xenophobia, or hate against a political figure, one needs to study the source of the force, outside of oneself, that exploits and utilizes these emotions.

Unfortunately, in many cases, one will eventually find out that they fell victims to one’s twisted agenda. It can be the agenda of a ruling group which refuses to change the comforts of its status quo, or of an interest faction which feels threatened by an outsider, or perhaps even by a biased media that fails to differentiate facts from opinion.

One should never underestimate that interesting question, who stands to benefit from fanning the flames of prejudice and hatred?

The odds are, dear readers, that it is not the average person on the street, you or anyone of us! 

Did you say "occupation?" Which occupation?

The Yisraeli “occupation” of Judea and Samaria has, unfortunately, become a household mantra which is used to excuse and explain many problems that befall our world.

Each time terror strikes, we wait with bated breath for the same chant to be heard. And, in many cases, it is indeed what happens, especially more and more among prominent figures, Yisraelis and others, who are, in many instances, public opinion shapers. We have recently heard it from the current mayor of  Tel Aviv, following the last terror attack that killed four and wounded others in his city. Even the US Democratic party, so we learned today, considers explicit condemnation of Yisraeli “occupation” as part of its 2016 elections platform.

The definition of the term “occupation” is very simple and straightforward. Here is a basic one from www.thefreedictionary.com

“a. Invasion, conquest, and control of a nation or territory by foreign armed forces.

So, if we follow the logic that this definition unfolds to us, in order for there to be an “occupation,” there has to be an invasion first.

Our question pertains to what the definition does not address, though. We ask, what about territory that was gained as a result of a war forced upon a nation when that nation never sought to invade, occupy and control?

Isn’t that what happened in 1967 when Arab nations bordering with Yisrael, in their unrelenting efforts to rid the middle east of Jews, lodged a war against the sovereign Jewish state? Was the Jewish nation which had already incurred huge losses through history when it was subject to the mercy of others, supposed to just sit there and let others do as they wish, especially when their explicit wish was to complete what Hitler never finished? Can you call a desire to defend oneself against attackers “an invasion?” 

Moreover, can one accuse Yisrael of being “an occupier” when the so called “occupation” was imposed on her through wars and ended with the liberation of lands which according to historical facts and legal documents were rightfully hers to begin with? The Arabs can only blame themselves for the creation of such a reality.

Having said that, we are always surprised that the real occupation which has transpired in plain view is ignored time and again. Yes, we are referring to the Arab occupation of Jewish lands. We are not talking about lands given to us by G-d, as much as we believe in it, because we feel that religious arguments should be kept out of the equation when it comes to the middle east conflict.

The Lands of Judea and Samaria are the true Eretz Tzion V’yirushalayim that our National Anthem, “Hatikvah” speaks about. They are the heartland of Eretz Yisrael, the land where Jews have been dwelling for over three millennia, the land that, as The Declaration of Independence of Yisrael states, “was the birthplace of the Jewish people…” where “their spiritual, religious and political identity was shaped…” where “they attained to statehood, created cultural values of national and universal significance and gave the world the eternal Book of Books.”

Those that call themselves “Palestinians” are relatively newcomers into this same region where Jews and other members of Am Yisrael have established a deep connection with the Land.  In an effort to build their case and try and establish some credibility to their false claim to the Land, to build their case and false claims to the lands, they have adopted the derogatory name “Palestinians” given to the Jews by the Romans. “Palestine”פלשתינה  is the name the Romans gave to Eretz Yisrael in order to add an insult to injury and sever any relationship between the Jews and their Home.. The only problem with the name “Palestine” is that its origin lies in the term “Pleshet” פלשת.  This is a name appearing frequently in the Bible which in English started to be known as “Philistine” The world root of “Plesheth” lies in the word “palash”,פלש a term which means “to invade” and refers to the Philistine’s conquest of the coast of the Mediterranean. Now you, dear reader, tell us who the invader is, and who once they invade according to the above definition eventually become the occupier? Isn’t invasion part of the definition of “occupation?”

Furthermore, has anyone even mentioned Muslim six hundred years old occupation of parts of Yerushalayim and Jewish religious sites such as Temple Mount?

It is not, however, only Jewish lands and holy places that the “Palestinians” occupy. What concerns us even more is the widespread “Conceptual 'occupation.'” 

The Arab/Muslim world has invaded and planted itself very effectively in the creases of the intangible corners of the minds of the world. It has occupied it and has been feeding it a version of history, perverse terminology and concepts and a twisted narrative which even some of the most imaginative Hollywood script writers could never produce. Unfortunately, it is not only the minds of the gullible world that they have occupied, they have been able to successfully invade and take possession over the minds of many Jews and Yisraelis, especially those with the Ghetto mentality, a mentality that continues to function as fertile ground for such an occupation.

We hate  to sound like prophets of wrath but we both feel a need to warn a slumbering humanity that it is this form of “occupation” it should address and fight lest their children will end up growing in a world deprived of any hope or a promising future.This article was written jointly with Moshe Dagan.

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A Tale of Two Museums

 

                                                                           

Once upon a time, there was an evil man, a very evil man. He had a dream. He wanted to erect a museum to commemorate “the extinct race.”

That man was Hitler. His dream was to annihilate European Jewry and turn the Jewish Museum in the city of Prague into a museum that will hold Jewish artifacts aimed at reminding the world of a race that once was.

The Jewish Museum of Prague was founded in 1906. Initially, it was intended for the purpose of preserving artifacts from neighboring synagogues which were liquidated as part of the reconstruction of the Jewish quarter. When the Nazis took over they closed it down and hired Dr. Karel Stein, a historian and one of the founders of the Museum, to catalogue the many various Jewish artifacts that were gathered by the Germans.

As we all know, Hitler’s plans did not exactly go as he intended them to. The “extinct race” simply refused to disappear, refused to vanish. The Museum, invariably, remained “The Jewish Museum” holding the largest and most comprehensive collection of Judaica items. Nowadays, it contains about 40,000 artistic objects. It also holds about 100,000 pieces of written materials. All are a testimony to a thousand-year-old community from a city that the New York Times refers to as “the Paris of the East, the Jerusalem of the West,” a testimony to the cultural wealth of a People that left a big mark in the annals of the history of mankind.

Fast forward several decades, and let me take you to a different region of the world where another museum was recently erected. Unlike the Jewish Museum of Prague that has been a beacon of a civilization that enriched the history of humanity with its gifts and contributions, we are left here with a blank expression as we watch a multi-million dollars’ ghost and ask, what does it commemorate? Shall I venture to call it the “Museum to the race that has not yet been born?” It is a “museum” that holds nothing but a dream of destruction, empty pages waiting to be filled with imaginative narratives, steeped in the fairytales of “A Thousand Nights and One Night,” aimed at rewriting history. Its empty halls will hold an imaginative history that lives and thrives only in the minds of those who have not been born yet, those that toil so hard to ignore facts and create new ones merely to fool a gullible world.

Yes, you guessed right. I am talking about the new “Palestinian Museum,” the one that exhibits bare walls, empty shelves and lonely display cabinets. But fear not, soon, the emperor’s new clothes will be hanging there and its many visitors will marvel at them, write about them and push a blind humanity deeper and deeper into the dark abyss from which only a miracle can save it

Hatikvah – A hope for freedom

                                                                                    

“Liheyot Am Chofshi Beartzeinu, Eretz Tzion V’rushalayim.” (To be a free People in our Land, the Land of Tzion and Yerushalayim). Naftali Hertz Imber , Hatikvah

This week, I visited, along with a group of fellow teachers, our Temple Mount in Yerushalayim. I had been looking forward to that visit. Spiritually, I have always been of the conviction that if Am Yisrael and the Jewish People had a soul, that is the place where it dwelt. The famous call “Har Habayit Beyadeinu,” (The Temple mount is in our hands) which was uttered during the Six Day War echoed against the walls of my Jewish essence. Zion, I realized then, was the center of our Jewish universe.

Politically, however, I had never given much thought or much significance to the place. Of course I knew that Yisrael relinquished any rights to the place and handed it over to the Hashemite Kingdom for keeps while allowing the Jewish People, the rightful owners of the place, visitation rights. Frankly, I had no issue with that decision. It was Moshe Dagan, my co-writer, who has opened my eyes for the need to look at the importance of the Temple Mount also from the governmental and administrative angle. It was these two perspectives that set out to tour the place.

That visit occurred one week before Pesach, the Jewish holiday of Passover, commemorating the Exodus from Egypt, from Slavery into Freedom. Ironically enough what I experienced there taught me a great lesson; a twofold lesson. The first, what it means to be a “slave. A humiliated slave.” The other, I learned to appreciate the great precious and priceless gift of Freedom.

“Remove any religious symbols from yourself before we visit Temple Mount, and cause no provocation,” our tour guide kept warning us, starting the day prior to the visit and resuming a few more times before the visit. That meant I had to remove my treasured Star of David necklace which was given to me by my daughter. My Jewish core rebelled. “Why does one have to hide their Jewish identity and in Eretz Yisrael of all places?” it kept asking me. I was not going to remove mine. “Tucking it inside my shirt,“ I decided, “should suffice.”

“You also need to dress modestly, ladies,” our guide continued to instruct us.  That, however, I could understand. Respect is what I would show any religious site because that is what I was raised to do. I had no intention of disobeying that request. Neither had any of my fellow teachers.

On the scheduled day, we rose early for fear that we might be late and therefore miss the visit. During the security check and, probably more importantly, a check for any hidden religious items, the guards found a little Book of Psalms in my purse. It was nothing more than a good luck charm that I carry along with me wherever I go. The book and I were temporarily separated, to be reunited after the visit. I did not challenge the act and moved on.

Along with all other non- Muslim tourists of many nationalities we ascended the Moograbim Gate, making our way to the Heart of our people, the place where Jews have longed to return for over a few millennia. Many of us were a bit nervous for fear of making any move that might be interpreted as provocative or disrespectful

We finally reached planet Temple Mount.

The Waqf representative who awaited us at the entrance to the site was anything but polite. I seriously felt like I was entering a forced labor camp. “Why don’t you cover your boobs?” He shouted at one of my fellow teachers who was, in my view, dressed very modestly. “Don’t you realize that this is a holy place?” he kept reproofing her. At that point I was sincerely searching for the whip that he might be holding in his hand.

No, it was not a pleasant atmosphere for us.

As we were making our way around the site with our very knowledgeable and careful tour guide, we were constantly followed by a representative of the Waqf listening in to what was said. At one point, the guard went aside to make a telephone call. Our tour guide seemed terrified for fear that he must have said something wrong.

More of that gnawing unfriendly and unwelcome feeling.

That day was an especially hot day. The hot sun was hitting us mercilessly. The only shade in whose comforting shelter we could find temporary respite was the one cast by the Golden dome building. Some of us approached it only to be chastised by the guards who told us that we were not allowed to get close to the place.

At that point I was already looking forward to leaving the place. I no longer felt free in my Home, the Home of my People and the dwelling place of its soul. I was crying for my People’s soul. It was trapped underneath a golden dome unable to free itself, its wings broken, its limbs shackled to a different planet, unable to share the joy of Freedom, of reunification and rededication between a Nation and its Historical, Religious and Political essence. There was no Freedom on the Mount. After all, the words of Hatikvah, above, did not say "Eretz Yisrael". They specifically refer to “The Land of Tzion and Yerushalayim?” To me, Temple Mount has been the embodiment of Eretz Tzion V’irushalayim.

This Pesach has, therefore, added yet another meaning, another significance to my Jewish existence. I have had a brief encounter with Jewish history and its sad chapters. This year, more than before, the words of Hatikvah will continue to resonate with me, as I still harbor the Hope that we will one day be reunited in Freedom and Bliss with what was ours and forever will be.

May we all have a Happy and Meaningful Pesach.

This article was written together with Moshe Dagan.

Faith

   




                                                                         

 “Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase.” - Martin Luther King Jr.   

When I read King’s words, two images from two different cultures, two different historical experiences pop into my mind. The first is taken from my own heritage and relates to one of our forefathers Ya'akov (AKA Jacob). I am referring to his dream in which “he saw a stairway resting on the earth, with its top reaching to heaven, and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it.” (Bresheet, AKA Genesis 28:10-22)

    The second image comes from the African American experience. It is expressed in the words of one of my favorite poets, Langston Hughes. In his poem Mother and Son, he writes, “Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair….. And sometimes goin’ in the dark Where there ain’t been no light.”

The thread that connects the two and which they both share is the message of faith. Both stem from a dreary present. The Biblical Ya'akov is on the run for fear of his life. Hugh’s plight is the result the racial policy that plagued his reality and the reality of his ancestors.  Both the ladder in the dream and the staircase in the poem lead to unknown realms. Most importantly, they both offer hope.

    Unlike the stairs in the poem, however, Ya'akov’s ladder, his stairway to heaven, seems more sturdy, more reassuring and has the reaffirmation of G-d’s promise to Am Yisrael: “I am the Lord, the God of your father Abraham and the God of Isaac. I will give you and your descendants the land on which you are lying.  Your descendants will be like the dust of the earth, and you will spread out to the west and to the east, to the north and to the south. All peoples on earth will be blessed through you and your offspring.  I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you”

    This promise is reiterated later in Yirmiyahu (AKA Jeremiah) 46:27:"Do not be afraid, Ya'akov my servant; do not be dismayed, Yisrael. I will surely save you out of a distant place, your descendants from the land of their exile. Ya'akov will again have peace and security, and no one will make him afraid.” It is faith in the promise for a better future that kept us, Am Yisrael, going.

    It is also faith in a better future that the words of the mother in the poem are so drenched with:

    “ So boy, don’t you turn back.  Don’t you set down on the steps   ’Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.  Don’t you fall now— For I’se still goin’, honey, I’se still climbin’,”

    The message of both experiences is loud and clear. We must continue to climb and never give up, no matter how hard, rocky and sometimes dark the journey towards our goal is.

I will end with another quote by another favorite poet, Rabindranath Tagore, “Faith is the

bird that feels the light when the dawn is still dark.”

These are hard times for us, Am Yisrael, in particular, and for the whole world, in general,

but we must not despair. There is the light at the top of the staircase and beyond the 

edge of dawn even though we may not see it. All we need is, like the bird, to spread our wings and soar beyond and above the dismal present towards the light that is there and into the bright and glorious future that awaits us!

Little Saint Hugh of Lincoln revisited

                                                                        

Spring is upon us again. For us, Jews and Am Yisrael, this season connotes a spell of rejuvenation, a season of joy, celebration of freedom and our renewed covenant with G-d and His eternal blessing. Unfortunately, this time of year brings to mind other, not so pleasant undertones, historical and current. It is also the time of year when ancient baseless accusations against our people rear their ugly heads again. Yes, I am talking about the rebirth of the old  Blood Libel. It was only a few days ago that I read, in this paper, a chilling interview with the Egyptian politician, Khaled Zaafrani, on al-Hafez TV, a salafist Egyptian station. The interview took place in 2013. There, Zaafrani said that "it is well known that during Passover they make matzos called the "Blood of Zion." They take a Christian child, slit his throat, and slaughter him....they never forgo this rite." More recently, according to the Middle East Media Research Institute (MEMRI), an Egyptian journalist, Firnas Hafzi wrote the following in the Egyptian monthly 'Al Kibar,' "The Jews combined the preparations of Mazos and the offering up of sacrifices with their enmity towards non-Jews, especially Christians, and mixed the blood of one of their victims into the matzos dough."

Evidently, "matzah blood libel" is alive and well not only in Egypt but throughout the Arab and muslim world where such narratives find fertile ground. Moreover, such accusations do nothing but serve to further fan the already wild fires of hatred in cultures that are steeped in darkness and obscurantism.

Blood libels are not a modern concept. Jews and Christians were accused of the practice of drinking human blood by pagans who misunderstood the meaning of the doctrine of drinking the blood of Christ and eating the Eucharist. Prior to that, King Antiochus the IV (215-164 BCE), in his anti-Jewish propaganda, claimed that Greek prisoners were held in the Temple in Jerusalem for the purpose of drinking their blood

Scholars believe that modern day blood libel originated in in 1144 in Norwich, England where a twelve-year-old boy, William, disappeared. Jews were accused with kidnapping child and draining his blood. Though it was never proved that the allegations were true, it did not stop the incident from gaining impetus and prevent it from growing.

 According to Rabbi Ken Spiro of Aish Hatorah, “the most famous of all blood libel legends is that of the ritual murder of the child Hugh of Lincoln, England in 1255.” The story was eternalized in a ballad entitled, ”Little Saint Hugh of Lincoln.” Rabbi Spiro adds that this ballad is “so well-known in England and Scotland that it is number 155 in the standard cannon of English and Scottish ballads compiled by Francis James Child in the 19th century.” 

For an unfounded claim that was revived and repeated during the dismal, bleak period called the dark ages and with the help of the Church trickled into every aspect of the daily lives, one would hope that, by now, the world has learned some lessons from history and do all it can to disassociate itself from it. Unfortunately, it does not seem to be the case.

In 1987, I taught Hebrew to mostly Jewish students in one of the top public schools in Texas. One day one of student shared with me that one of the other teachers had jokingly suggested that his Jewish students were preparing for the Christmas holiday by murdering a Christian child in order to use its blood for their Jewish rituals. My student responded to such a suggestion was: ““Actually, we do it only at Passover and we use the blood to bake the matzah, our traditional unleavened bread.”

Naturally, I did not find that a laughing matter. I doubted many of my students even grasped the severity of the comment. It raised the strong urge in me to educate them about the sick rumor called “blood Libel” which had caused the untimely death of many of our fellow Jews throughout history. I insisted that they all read Malamud’s novel “The Fixer,” a novel based on the Beilis case which took place in Russia in the early twentieth century. Additionally, I approached the teacher, discussed the issue with him and and got him to apologize to my students.

An apology is also the least I would expect from anyone, a person, an institution or a public figure who in our time and age dares to slander us, Am Yisrael and the Jewish people with such unfounded allegations This is what I believe Yisrael should insist upon unless, of course,  an apology is reserved only to us, for our refusal to disappear and for our strong wish to continue to survive and live in a world that cannot see right from wrong.