Sunday, June 22, 2003

Dear friends,

SHAVU'OT

It is customary to stay up all night and study on Shavu'ot, the day of revelation of the Torah on Mt. Sinai. Jerusalem is really in its element that night. There are study groups all over the city attended by hundreds. In all, thousands of people participate. One can walk from one institute or synagoge to another and just hear lectures, discussions, and textual study on every imaginable subject. As a result, the streets, which have few cars because of the holiday, are filled all night with people walking and talking &endash; religious and not religious. I made an error: I wanted to complete a special section of the Zohar and, having no group to work with, I stayed home and tried to study by myself but late night is not my best time and I confess I dozed off a couple of times. Still, Ursula who slept through it all and I headed for the Wall at 3:00 a.m. When we got there, hundreds were leaving and other hundreds were arriving. Some studied, others prayed, and others just talked. There must have been 10,000 people there for sunrise services. The crowding was so great and the noise so confusing that I took refuge in one of my regular prayer groups that had coopted a small cave. They, however, prayed very fast. We walked home, rested, visited friends, and then prepared for Shabbat which, this year, followed immediately after Shavu'ot. Next time, I will find a group to study and pray with.

THE POLITICAL SITUATION

After a lot of hope (on the part of some) about the Sharon-Mazen-Bush initiative, matters have fallen back to their usual state of affairs: Palestinian peace talk accompanied by terrorist attacks on the one hand and, on the other, Israeli withdrawals, followed by Palestinian violence, followed by Israeli closures. As I see it, the situation can be summed up in four short epigrams:

The difference between a terrorist and a freedom fighter is that the freedom fighter knows when to stop. Political violence is an acceptable form of pushing for change, as the American and French revolutions show but, at a certain point, political violence must content itself with some gains, sue for peace, and move on from there. Jews did use political violence before the establishment of the State of Israel (though not against civilians); however, they ceased it, accepted the partition and then the armistice, and went on to build a state and a society. Palestinian leaders have just not accepted the idea that one must, at a certain moment, content oneself with what one can get and then move on.

It's the power, stupid &endash; if I may paraphrase a American bon mot. The inability of the Palestinians to unite behind any leader has very little to do with the cause of the Palestinian people though, of course, it is always phrased that way publicly. It has to do with power. Palestinian society is tribal. There are clans, some of them big, and they are very powerful and armed. No clan wants to give up its power for the good of the whole. So they arm themselves and fight among themselves. Dahlan, the new security person, has been given money by the Americans and Europeans to lure terrorists away from their current loyalties. This "buy a terrorist" policy is fully consistent with Palestinian political and social reality but it won't work politically because it supports the clan approach to Palestinian identity, not the national approach. Arafat is a master at playing off one set of clans against the other, and Abu Mazen and Dahlan don't stand a chance.

A good scapegoat is worth its weight in gold. The Arab world is rife with corruption and exploitation of the ever-increasing masses. Without democracy to establish and guard their rights, the vast majority of Arabs have no way to correct that imbalance. Arab governments, to preserve their privileged status, use the Jews and Israel as a convenient scapegoat. They give the people a focal point for their rage; it costs the government nothing to encourage the publication of the false "Protocols of the Elders of Zion" which is now available in all bookstores in the Arab world, and it costs them nothing to allow preachers all over the Muslim world to rant and rave against Jews. Meanwhile, Arab anti-Jewish feeling is growing apace in the Arab world (see article).

With enemies like that, who needs friends. The inability of Palestinian society to pull itself together for any cause other than hating the Jews and the State of Israel allows Sharon and the political right to dominate Israeli policy. Terror simply cannot achieve a Palestinian state and it cannot drive the Jews out of the whole land. It can terrorize but it cannot annihilate though, in the irrational world of the Middle East, Palestinian terrorists might actually be tempted to use weapons of mass destruction even though they would also annihilate their own people. Still, as long as terror continues, the right can say, "See, I told you: they can't behave in a civilized manner. There is nothing to talk about or, more correctly, no one to talk to &endash; at least, no one who has the backing of the masses (i.e., democracy) or the teeth to chew up the internal enemies (dicatorship, like the rest of the Arab world)." This allows the occupation &endash; the word slipped out of Sharon's mouth recently &endash; to continue with all its ethical, financial, and practical problems.

In all, I am not optimistic. The only light is that Sharon has defied his own supporters to state publicly that he supports the formation of a Palestinian state with borders of its own and he is willing to dismantle various forms of Jewish settlement to achieve peace.

The paragraphs above were written before the pigu`a, the terrorist attack on a bus here in Jerusalem. I did not hear it and was not near it but everyone is very nervous. Hamas is clearly out to sink the Road Map and indeed any peace plan &endash; with the blessing of Arafat. Abu Mazen can't do anything except condemn the attack and even that he did not do with great vigor. The international community seems completely powerless, though negotiations are rumored to be going on anyway. Meanwhile, the Israelis are convinced that the only way to fight terror is with a vast intelligence effort and a conscious attempt to kill those who are giving the orders. So the assassinations are going on. The rhetoric, too, has escalated. If only Hamas and such organizations were true freedom fighters.

The absurdity of the current "negotiations" is unbelievable. The Americans and the Europeans are encouraging PA talks with Hamas and Jihad Islami whose websites make perfectly plain that their goal is the "liberation" of all Palestine and the expulsion or extermination of the Jews. These Palestinian (read terrorist) organizations are proposing to limit their terrorist attacks to Israeli soldiers and settlers &endash; they will do us the big favor of not attacking innocent civilians in Israel itself, so they say &endash; in return for complete Israeli withdrawal, Israel ceasing to execute their operatives and commanders, release of all murderers, etc. And, they won't talk to, or otherwise recognize, Israel or the right of Israeli Jews to any piece of this land; they talk only to fellow Palestinians. This is peace? This is a truce? No, this is an attempt to create a respite from Israeli action for them to reorganize, rebuild their terror machines, and renew their arms supplies. And all this with American and European money which will flow in, ostensibly to aid the Palestinian people but, in reality, to fuel the porkbarrel which gives these organizations economic control over the population and to replenish the "armies" which give them physical control. (A real national movement would build the ability to trade, which would generate income but also independence.) Does no one outside of Israel see this?

A personal footnote to the terror: The Israeli soldier we have been visiting, Ronny, had a leg blown off preventing a terrorist from boarding a bus in French Hill in Jerusalem last June. He had the leg sown back on, underwent several operations, and all the therapy. But nothing has worked. He is in deep pain all the time and, if it were not for his naturally good-natured disposition, I do not know how he, his wife, and three small children could have come this far. On June 24th, with the agreement of all the specialists here, they will amputate his right foot and leg below the knee. What a sad ending &endash; and, even then, it is not over because, while his left leg has healed, the circulation is very poor and he has pain there too. With a little bit of luck, the amputation of the right leg will make the pain in the left bearable. Then starts rehabilitation, and a new child is expected in September.

ISRAELI STUDENTS AND TEACHERS

After a year of sitting in classes here on the graduate and undergraduate levels, it is interesting to describe and contrast what I have seen. A few impressions:

Participating in a class is like driving a car &endash; if you don't force yourself into traffic, no one will let you in. (I have asked older people how they manage and been told by an older man that he arranges his trajectory so that he does not have to make left-hand turns while an older woman told me that she waits until a woman driver who is respectful comes along and lets her in.) In order to say something, a student must aggressively just talk out loud. One day, when I was trying to say something &endash; and I am much older than anyone else and known as a colleague of the instructor &endash; the young woman behind me said, "David, you just have to burst into the conversation." It is not uncommon to hear five or six people talking loudly at once, and for close to 60 seconds, before someone yields. In my most enthusiastic American classes, students always respect the right of the other to speak. The other side of the free-talk coin is that there is a lot of banter with the teachers, a lot of laughing and joking. The teacher shushes them in a scolding but playful way. They mock her gently. It is a kind of family discussion, or dinner table conversation. The women have a way of using a very childish intonation in Israeli society in general and in the classroom in particular while the men have a way of appearing sort of bashful &endash; all of which hides young people who have made some very tough decisions during their army careers. The word in Arabic, which has come into colloquial Hebrew for this give and take in the classroom, seems to be "sababa" &endash; a friendly, fun party.

Teachers have a tendency to do a lot of talking -- even in interactive classes. The talking almost becomes a kind of lecturing. As one who never lectures, this has been strange to me though I know American colleagues who also maintain this monologue method of teaching. The same old-fashioned authoritarian approach is seen in the attendance sheet (can you imagine taking attendance by the sheet method from a group of students some of whom have killed other human beings in combat). By contrast, I've seen Melila Hellner Eshed use the "hevruta" method with great success. In this method, students are paired or grouped with neighbors, a text for study is assigned together with a guiding question ("What is the main point?" "What are the textual problems here?"), and the students are given 5-6 minutes to get into the text and its problems. I've seen the method used for longer periods of time but even the 5-6 minute segment arouses a great deal of involvement and the subsequent lively discussion is amazing.

Generally, the students are older than American students. They have been through the army; some have even seen battle. Most have also had some sexual experience and, while not married, they seem more resolved, stable sexually and socially than my American students. There is no overt flirting and jockeying for dates; no sexual and social hunting. They also do their homework, which is read and returned. These students are an in-group and they feel confident in that role. Perhaps that also allows them to walk in late (the record is 45 minutes late, no excuse). One problem I find is that Israeli students talk very, very fast; sometimes, even too fast for their fellow students.

The students are mixed in religious background. Some are clearly orthodox &endash; the girls in long skirts and the boys in kippot. They tend to shy away from the explicitly sexual dimensions of the zoharic texts we study and to wonder among themselves how this exceptional text can be "Jewish," i.e., orthodox. They also bring an enormous amount of Jewish background with them to the class, including knowledge of the Bible and other sources as well as practices from their homes. The secular students are not anti-orthodox, or even anti-religious. They just ask, "Does prayer work?" "Why would one even think theologically? God is just superfluous." In the States, even non-religious students come seeking answers to metaphysical and spiritual questions. The instructors here are very, very knowledgeable. Both the religious and the non-religious can, as I have commented in earlier letters, call on an enormous body of knowledge.

The study of Jewish mysticism was relegated to a dark corner by the founders of Jewish scholarship who thought of mysticism as a superstitious culture that derived from the Jews of eastern Europe. However, just as the second world war was developing, Gershom Scholem "saved" Jewish mysticism from the oblivion to which it had been assigned by writing the history thereof. He dealt very systematically with the manuscript traditions and the history of ideas invovled, and then arranged the material chronologically. The first generation of his students followed him. But the second generation realized that Scholem was not always correct and they developed new readings of the same material. Both teachers with whom I have worked are of the later generations and, instead of concentrating on the manuscripts and ideas of the Zohar, they have focused on the narrative sections. This has generated a genuinely luminous reading of the text. Yehuda Liebes has brought out the deeply visionary and ambiguous aspect of the text. And, as I have noted before, Melila Hellner Eshed has had a wonderful "joking" relationship with the class. She truly enjoys the material, as well as the repartée with the students. And, as I commented to the class at the end of the semester, Melila has been our "small candle," bringing out the luminous side of ourselves as we studied the text together.

HESCHEL STORIES

Emory University participated in the publication of the Hebrew translation of Abraham Joshua Heschel's famous book, God in Search of Man, and there was a series of lectures honoring the Hebrew edition. A few Heschel stories:

A man, dirty and with cuts on his arms, came into a restaurant where Heschel was sitting with some friends. He extended his hand but those at the table did not extend theirs. Afterwards, Heschel told the story of his ancestor, the original Abraham Joshua Heschel, a hasidic rabbi from Apt. The rebbe was in his cottage when a lone man, poorly attired, appeared at the window and asked to be let in to warm up from the snow. At first the rebbe said no but, then, he thought, "If there is room in God's world for this man, there must be room in my cottage too." "The same holds true for the man who came to our table," said Heschel.

A sign: Kosher for Passover lettuce, signed by Heschel &endash; with a note on the bottom saying that most of the lettuce in America comes from farms in Alabama and, there, the landlords were starving the workers. The "kosher" lettuce was vegetables not picked in Alabama.

Heschel came to the Wall with a friend. The friend reported that Heschel went to the Wall but remained only a brief moment. Then, he walked around just looking at those who were there praying. As he was leaving, he asked to go back &endash; not to kiss the Wall but to observe some more people.

Sitting on a big pulpit in a mammoth American synagogue, Heschel heard a child cry out and watched the mother try to keep it quiet. When the ushers came to ask her to remove the child, Heschel stood up and said, "Wait. Wait. I've been up here for two hours and that was the first spontaneous, true voice that I have heard."

THE BELZER REBBE

I spent my last Shabbat here with the hasidim of the dynasty of Belz. Like all hasidic groups, they suffered tremendous losses during the shoah but they have built themselves up again. In an earlier letter, I described the magnificent synagogue and religious center they built here. It is visible from all over Jerusalem. In fact, it is also visible from Ramallah and the Rebbe has been approached about turning off the night floodlights so it won't serve as a target. He refused, of course. We had met the Rebbe in Switzerland many years ago, when we were all much younger. The thing I remember most is that, on the day he left the town we were staying in -- one which had never seen hasidim in their pe'ot (sidelocks) and streimels (fur hats) -- there was an earthquake.

Shabbat services on this off-Shabbat were attended by about 1500 people! Quite a crowd when they pray together. After Friday services, I shook hands with the Rebbe and indicated that I had met him many years ago. Then, I ate with Yirmiya Damen, a cousin of our rabbi in New Rochelle. Yirmiya is the court musician for Belz and the singing at his table was amazing. After dinner, we went back to the synagoge for the Rebbe's "tisch" during which the Rebbe eats a meal in public. He is served, as a king would be served, and enough food is prepared for all those in attendance to have a taste to share his meal. My hosts had arranged a front seat for me, a honor, though I was clearly an outsider. There was singing, though rather slow and almost mournful.

On Shabbat morning, I went to the mikve (ritual bath) which is very large and plush, and then to services. Afterwards, my hosts, a former student and her family, managed to get us into the private quarters of the Rebbe for the blessing over the wine. Only about 30 people were in attendance and I was placed among the six around the Rebbe's table! I kept wanting to take what was given to me and turn around and share it with my host but no one else made such a move, so I refrained. At the end, we took a bit anyway. Lunch with Eliezer and Pessya Ram and their children was delightful, reminiscing about old times and how much their lives had changed. I was glad I had arrived with a huge bouquet before Shabbat which much impressed the children.

After some sleep and study, Eliezer picked me up for afternoon services, another "tisch" at which I was again among those close to the Rebbe, and then evening services. After Havdala (the ceremony separating Shabbat from the weekday), the Damen choir burst into joyous song. I greeted the Rebbe and then, after receiving some tapes of the Belzer music, returned home. Upon reflection, the milieu is not one in which I would live: the women are very much in the background, the community is very orthodox, and Yiddish is the language of communication; also the Hebrew is very east European in its style. Still, the Rebbe has an infectious smile and a twinkle in his eye, and I can understand why people would live that kind of life.

SHALOM FROM JERUSALEM

My mother receives these letters, along with the rest of you though, having no email, she receives them late. She reminded me that she and my father had been in Israel in 1939, shortly after I was born, for a Zionist Congress meeting. They visited the Wall which, then, was still a small enclosure. They visited it again in the summer of 1967, shortly after the liberation of Jerusalem, when they had to pick their way through the rubble of the old city and the not-yet-existent plaza in front of the Wall.

Today was the anniversary of my father's death. I lead the last part of the service and they were surprised that I could really do it; after all, I am the American outsider. I also organized a small collation after services in two of the prayer groups. People were very nice. They also know I am leaving this week and they are sad to see me go &endash; as I am sad to leave them.

I can't really believe I am leaving Jerusalem and Israel. The only way I can make it through to departure is to know that I will return for short visits and, eventually, for a longer stay. Everywhere I go, people say, "Are you leaving us?" The Russian immigrant who sold me a pair of shoes said, "Come back and visit us." The local grocery and laundry people, the staff at the Institute, the beggar ladies at the Wall, together with others who have known us, have said, "Thank you for coming. Be sure to come back and visit us." It is like leaving after a warm family weekend or a youth summer camp where human and spiritual bonds have grown deep and one feels as if one has put down roots and belongs in some very basic way. We have felt strangely at home and secure here, in spite of the war and the terrorism. We have also felt that life has meaning here. To see dawn over Jerusalem, to pray at sunrise, to have people who think of you as family &endash; this we will miss.

Shalom, David and Ursula