Current Events

     Hackers target Israel...again. (The video is super creepy) It's not the first time and somehow I doubt that it will be the last. These attacks mean that Israel has to devote quite a bit of resources to protecting our online infrastructure. On the other hand, I think it has at least two positive consequences. One, it forces us to become world leaders in cyber security. For example, a new center for cyber security is already up and running in Be'er Sheva. Here are some articles about it. This is likely to, among other things, be good for the economy. Two, the fact that we are attacked as early and often as we are makes it less likely we'll ever suffer a catastrophic attack. We were also an early and frequent target of modern terrorism, which meant that we developed methods for dealing with it. Because of this I find it unlikely Israel will ever suffer as an enormous an attack as something like September 11; we had the "good fortune" of learning to deal with modern terrorism before it got as sophisticated as it is now.
     An Arab-Israeli woman just won Israel's most popular TV show, "Master Chef." While I don't want to act like this fact whitewashes very serious problems Israel, including racism against Arabs (and ultra-orthodox Jews and Mizrahi/Eastern Jews), I do think its an accurate reflection of Israeli society. How many of our Arab neighbors do you think would allow a Jew to win a major, public contest?
     Tel Aviv University tends to be an extremely liberal place. It's common knowledge that universities generally are quite liberal, as are big cities. But Tel Aviv, especially, has a liberal reputation. For example, it's often listed as one of the most gay-friendly cities in the world. A quick google search turns up dozens of gay Tel Aviv guides like this one. Considering how liberal Tel Aviv University is perhaps it should come as no surprise that they've allowed a convicted terrorist to come and speak at a student-run event, sparking protests at the school. On the one hand, this seems like a victory for free speech. On the other hand, I think it's important to ask whether a publicly financed university should allow a speaker like this.
     Bias alert: I love Thomas Friedman, op-ed writer for the New York Times. In this recent article he contends that Sheldon Adelson, Jewish, right wing billionaire, is accidentally helping Ayatollah Khameini, leader of Iran. While I think this may be a little bit over the top, I agree with Friedman's point that Adelson's far right position makes it much easier for the world to focus on and criticize Israel, taking attention away from the big threat, Iran's development of a nuclear weapon.
     While it doesn't show its statistics, this article claims that Berlin has the world's fastest growing Jewish community. Regardless, I asked the students how they felt about this, considering that there are still ex-members of the Nazi party walking the streets (and certainly their children and grandchildren, and they were all fine with it. Some of them even consider it a positive development that Jewish life is returning to Germay. While I understand intellectually that it's unfair to blame modern day Berlin or the children/grandchildren of the people who perpetrated one of history's most heinous crimes, it still bothers me deep down in my kishkes (guts). I'm not sure I could live there.
     A group of African-Americans have their own Jewish-ish (though not recognized as Jewish by any official Jewish organization as far as I know) community in Dimona, Israel (a development town way down in the Negev Desert).
     Over the last year Israel has released a number of Palestinian prisoners in a show of good faith to get the peace talks moving along (others would call it surrendering to blackmail). When we talked about this in class I explained to the students that, while there may be any number of good reasons to keep these people in jail, it's unlikely that they're likely to commit violent crimes in the future for the simple reason that the vast majority of violent crime is committed by young men (yes, it's true, my father is a professor of criminology). It turns out that at least one of them is actually trying to build bridges by teaching Hebrew to other Palestinians.
     While the Arab Spring hasn't exactly worked out as well as many of us would have liked, there have certainly been some positive consequences, including, according to this article, the blossoming of Arab art.
     In case making anti-semitic gestures wasn't getting him into enough trouble, French soccer player Nicolas Anelka recently said that the French Prime Minister's public opposition to the gesture was due to his Jewish wife. Awesome.
     A "lost" mikve was recently rediscovered in the Netherlands. As we spoke about in class (and I wrote about on the blog) the expulsion from Spain in 1492 led to a large influx of Jews in the Netherlands, a very tolerant country at the time. These Sephardic Jews (and some Ashkenazim, too) were an important part of Dutch life up until the Holocaust. 

Port Jews, Gracia Mendes Nasi and Sephardic Haskalah

      In my next blog post I'll be writing about the well-known and well-studied process through which Ashkenazi Jews left the ghetto around the time of Enlightenment. One of the main ways through which they did this is known as the Court Jew, a well-established concept in Jewish history. But Ashkenazi Jews, as my students and regular blog readers know, are only part of the Jewish world. In the last few decades researchers have begun using the concept of a Port Jew to describe the very different process through which many Sephardic Jews underwent Haskalah (Jewish Enlightenment).

     Port Jews are those Jewish traders, often refugees from the Iberian peninsula, who established their lives in various port cities around the world (a few of which I'll mention momentarily). Port cities, as a whole, historically tend to be liberal places. There tends to be a larger mix of different sorts of people, and, by definition, residents of these cities tend to have much more interaction with the outside world. If you think about the politics of the modern day US, for example, the two coasts tend to be much more liberal than the vast middle of the country. While there are certainly a plethora of reasons for this phenomenon, one of them is certainly the traditional liberal outlook of port cities.
     Aside from the joy of teaching about a lesser-known aspect of Jewish history (which I certainly enjoy), teaching about Port Jews enabled me to spend most of class talking about a famous Jewish woman(!), something that rarely happens in any history class, Jewish or otherwise. The woman, Gracia Mendes Nasi , was born in Portugal to a family of conversos (Jews who were outwardly pretending to be Christian to avoid persecution). She was loosely related to the famous Mendes/Beneviste trading family, who had grown exceedingly rich trading with the east, specializing in black pepper. She married one of the heads of the business (a distant relative), but when he and his brother both died she was left the sole heiress of this massive empire.
     When she was widowed she decided to leave Portugal for the Netherlands, who had recently passed an edict of toleration (they passed it because they were predominantly Protestants, though it applied to Jews as well), which, as always, drew members of Am Yisrael. Not surprisingly the combination of liberalness and an influx of Jewish-Spanish/Portuguese refugees led to a period of prosperity known as the Dutch Golden Age (as always there are many factors that contributed, but these are two main ones). While living in the Netherlands Gracia Mendes Nasi set up a network to smuggle Jews out of Portugal, first hiding them on her ships to the Netherlands, then arranging for an overland journey to Venice (a perilous journey which included traversing the Alps) and finally sending them by boat to the welcoming arms of the Ottoman Empire.
     Eventually she, too, moved to Venice for a few years before eventually moving on to live in the Ottoman Empire. Around this time the Ottoman Sultan famously (though perhaps apocryphally) mocked King Ferdinand (of Spain/Portugal) saying "Ye call Ferdinand a wise king he who makes his land poor and ours rich!" about this expulsion of Am Yisrael. While in the Ottoman Empire Gracia Mendes Nasi was a generous benefactor to Am Yisrael (as she had been in the Netherlands), supporting dozens of btei knesset (synagogues) and yeshivot. One beit knesset, called senora synagogue in her honor, still stands and functions today in modern day Izmir, Turkey. She also essentially bought the city of Tiberias in Eretz Yisrael (she actually promised to generate more taxes, which she probably expected to pay herself), which was then under Ottoman control. She attempted to set up a yeshiva there and encourage Jewish settlement. While it didn't work, many scholars consider this to be the first act of modern Zionism (by a 16th century Sephardic Jewish woman!), 300 years before Theodor Herzl, who receives much more attention.
Using the story of this incredible woman as our guide I spoke to the students about several important Sephardic Jewish centers. The first center we talked about was Amsterdam, which, at the beginning of the period we're talking about, was only a small port. But the influx of thousands of Sephardic Jews with major trade connections and capital, along with the general improvement of the Dutch economy, turned it into an international center for trade. These Dutch Jews also played an important role in establishing Am Yisrael in colonial America. The remnants of this important community can be seen in the Portuguese Synagogue, also known as the Esnoga, which still stands in Amsterdam. It became active in 1672, and is one of only five known btei knesset worldwide to have a floor of sand (to absorb noise and moisture). It was also the home of the famous Eitz Chayim (tree of life) library.

Amsterdam, with the Esnoga on the Left

Painting of the Esnoga

And here it is today:

     Perhaps the most important center of Sephardi Jewry after the expulsion was in Salonica, Greece, which was ruled by the Ottomans at the time. As mentioned above, the Ottomans were happy to welcome the fleeing Sephardi Jews, both for the important effect we were known to have on an economy, and also to prevent Greek settlement in Ottoman lands. The few centuries after the expulsion from Spain saw the Ottoman Empire reach its peak.

Map of the Ottoman Empire

     For those of you who's French isn't up to par (like me), Salonica is written on this map as "Salonique". With the arrival of the Sephardi refugees Salonica began a 400 year stretch of having a Jewish majority (or at least plurality), the only city in the world to claim such a feat.

Population of Salonica over time

Here you can see the various communities from which Jews arrived to Salonica

     Salonica's Jewish majority (or plurality) expressed itself in many ways. For one, Jews participated in virtually all professions, which is rather unusual. For example, this was basically the only time in history there were Jewish fishermen (for those readers with a connection to EIE, Yossi Cohen, the driver for EIE, has roots among Salonica-area fishermen). There were so many Jewish traders that the port of Salonica, a main hub for east-west trade, closed on Shabbat. The city itself had several nicknames expressing its Jewish character, such as "Le Madre de Yisrael" and "The Jerusalem of the Balkans."

     While initially the various Sephardi communities that came to Salonica retained their own traditions (a list of Salonica btei knesset from the late 1400s and early 1500s includes names like New Lisbon, Sicily and Majorca) in 1520 an overarching organization was established to make decisions on behalf of the community. Among their decisions they chose, rather than to have each beit knesset run its own school, to create one big school, which at its peak had 10,000 students and 200 teachers. This school included both secular studies such as Latin, Arabic, the sciences and humanities, and the traditional religious subjects. Among others Shlomo Alkabetz (author of Lecha Dodi, a song Jews still sing to welcome shabbat) and Yosef Caro (author of the Shulhan Aruch, one of the most important compendia of Halacha ever written) both spent time there. 

     As Salonica became an important Jewish center, it also became the center of Ladino (a mix between Old Spanish and Hebrew) culture. In the same way that eastern Europe saw the development of Yiddish literature, drama and newspapers, Salonica (and the rest of the Ottoman Empire) saw the development of a wide variety of Ladino culture. Perhaps the most prominent Ladino book is the Me'am Loez, a commentary on the Chumash (Five Books of Moses). There was Ladino theater and numerous Ladino newspapers. With the death or emigration of the vast majority of the Ladino-speaking world very little of this culture exists today (again, much like Yiddish), but there's one historically Ladino newspaper, now published primarily in Turkish, that still publishes some articles in Ladino. Check it out (I have been told that Spanish speakers can somewhat understand). There are also some artists who still sing in Ladino, such as Yasmin Levy. 

     While Amsterdam and Salonica were important and fascinating Sephardi centers, I've left out another location, near and dear to many of our hearts, to which some Sephardim fled: the US! When the Portuguese controlled Brazil, many Jews left to go settle there, especially in the northeastern coastal city of Recife. Eventually, the Dutch captured it, which led to even more Jews arriving. A few years later the Portuguese retook Brazil and Am Yisrael fled; most returned to the Netherlands, but 23 of them made their way north, stopping in the Caribbean and eventually arriving to the new Dutch fort/settlement of New Amsterdam. Peter Stuyvesant, the anti-semitic governor of this small fort/colony, was unhappy with this development, and wrote back to his company in the Netherlands to ask permission to kick the Jews out. Unfortunately for him, his company had several Jewish board members, who weren't supportive of that plan. 

     It's not just New Amsterdam (the original name of New York) that had a Sephardi community from early on. Other early American settlements such as Charleston, Savannah, Philadelphia and Newport, Rhode Island all had Sephardi Jewish communities. The earliest (and still standing) beit knesset in the US is the Touro beit knesset in Newport (pictured below), originally home to a Sephardi community. The Ashkenazi Jews from whom most modern American Jews are descended didn't really begin arriving until the end of the 19th century. (I, being super special, am actually half Sephardi. We think that side of my family fled Spain/Portugal to Amsterdam and then spent a few generations in Jamaica before coming to the US)

Touro Synagogue in Newport, Rhode Island, founded 1763

     One early important American Jew was Chayim Solomon, who came from a Sephardi family (though they'd lived in Poland for a couple generations). When George Washington was ready to strike the decisive blow against the British at Yorktown he found his war chest empty, a discovery to which he responded "send for Chayim Solomon." Along with financing this final march and battle, Chayim Solomon played a major role in financing the American Revolution, often charging below market interest rates or even giving away his money out of patriotism. George Washington's Enlightenment views about the importance of separation between church and state played an important role in establishing religious freedom in America, and are reflected in this letter (full text at the bottom of the linked page) he wrote to the Newport Jewish community. Here's one oft-quoted excerpt:

May the children of the stock of Abraham who dwell in this land continue to merit and enjoy the good will of the other inhabitants—while every one shall sit in safety under his own vine and fig tree and there shall be none to make him afraid.

Still beautiful words over 200 years later.  

A Few Tiyulim (field trips)

     There have been a few tiyulim in the last couple weeks that I either wasn't able to attend or am not going to explain in depth. Here they are.

1) Belvoir and Tzfat. The students began the day at the crusader castle Belvoir in northern Israel. Here they heard the speech which sparked the crusades, and talked about some of their causes and effects. After that they went to Tzfat, home of Kabblah (Jewish mysticism). While in Tzfat they talked about the expulsion of the Jews from Spain and their development of Kabblah as a way to try and make sense of this tragedy. They also learned about Kabbalah itself and a few of its most important developers.

2) Poland. We spent a week in Poland learning about and seeing sites connected with the Shoa (Holocaust). We arrived in Warsaw and went straight to the traditional Jewish cemetery, where we learned about the hundreds of years of Jewish life in Warsaw prior to the Shoa. Then we went to where the ghetto used to be and talked about different types of resistance, ranging from Mordecai Annilevich and the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising to Janusz Korczak and his refusal to abandon his orphans. Next we went to Tykocin to talk about Shtetl (small Jewish town) life as exemplified by Fiddler on the Roof. After learning about Jewish life in the Shtetl in the morning we drove to Leprachova Forest to see where the Jews of the town had been shot into large pits.
     The next day we were in Lublin, site of one of the most famous pre-Holocaust Yeshivot, Yeshivat Chochmei Lublin (Yeshiva of the Wise Men of Lublin). Here we studied a bit of Talmud to try and bring some Jewish life back into the building. In the afternoon we went to Majdonik, an extermination camp in which virtually everything is still standing (the Nazis, due to the speed of the Soviet army and the poor management of the camp's leader, didn't have time to destroy it). I'm not going to talk about it other than to say its probably the worst place in the whole world and has the most difficult site I've ever seen: an enormous pile of human ashes.
     The next morning we had a lovely tour of medieval Krakow. We had some free time in the Old Town Square and the headed over to the traditional Jewish Quarter (called Kazimierz) where we visited a number of btei knesset (synagogues). My class, in particular, had a fascinating discussion at the progressive Tempel Synagogue about how we should relate to our beit knesset and to Israel. At the end of the day we walked to where the Krakow ghetto stood and talked about ghetto life there. Then, the vice principal gave a moving talk about the righteous among the nations, people who saved Jewish lives during the Holocaust and our officially recognized by Yad VaShem, the Holocaust Memorial in Israel.
     Our last day was spent at Auschwitz-Birkenau, where 1.5 million Jews died in the Holocaust. I'm not going to say anything else about it other than that it, too, is a strong candidate for worst place in the world. All of the students blogged about their experience in Poland and I'd encourage you to read some of them.

3) Women of the Wall and Nachlaot. The students went to pray for Rosh Chodesh (the new month) with an organization called Nashot HaKotel (Women of the Wall), who advocate for equal rights at the Kotel. Afterward they went to Nachlaot, a collection of neighborhoods that were among the first outside the walls of the Old City. Here they saw many of the institutions of a living Kehila Kdosha (holy community). In Poland we talked quite a bit about these institutions, but, unfortunately, few of them still exist today.

4) This past Thursday the students spent the whole day at Hebrew Union College, the Rabbinical College of the Reform Movement. In the morning they watched a great Israeli movie called "Walk on Water." Afterward, we had speakers representing the Ultra-Orthodox, Modern Orthodox and Conservative Movements come speak to the students. I hope they'll share some of their reactions to these speakers in the comments. 

Po Lan Ya: The Golden Age of Poland and its Destruction

     The previous post explained the development of Ashkenazi Jewry in central Europe (France and Germany) and the beginning of its decline with the First Crusade, which was launched just before 1100. This began a period of antisemitism in Europe that has never really ended (though it certainly has had many ups and downs, and changed significantly with the Enlightenment and the Holocaust). In class we discussed several major expressions of this antisemitism. The first, and probably most prominent is known as the blood libel. This extraordinary lie, which permeates the world even today (for example in the Syrian-produced TV show Ash-Shatat, which aired in a number of Arab countries, or in the Massena blood libel in New York in 1928) claims that Jews use the blood of Christians (especially children) in our religious rituals, especially the preparing of matzoh (unleavened bread) for Pesach (Passover). Another common expression of traditional European antisemitism is the accusation of the desecration of the host. This incredible lie insinuates that we steal the Eucharist (the wafer that many Christian sects ceremonially eat as a representation of Jesus's body) and stab it. This particular accusation has always been particularly amazing to me, since it implies that we believe the Eucharist to be something more than just a wafer (and therefore worth stealing and stabbing) and yet have no problem desecrating it (I suppose applying logic to antisemitism isn't necessarily helpful).

A 15th century painting of Jews stabbing the Eucharist

     A final expression of traditional European antisemitism is the accusation that we poison wells or otherwise cause disease, especially the Black Plague. As mentioned above I don't think logical, rational thought is the best way to explain antisemitism (which is inherently irrational), but this accusation at least has some foundation in reality (though obviously Jews did not poison wells). Jewish tradition compels both men and women to bathe in a mikve (a ritual bath) at fairly regular intervals, and there are certain meals (such as Shabbat dinner on Friday nights) which require ceremonial hand-washing. While neither of these would pass modern hygiene tests, it seems likely that it meant that Jews often practiced better hygiene than the surrounding populace during the Middle Ages (when hygiene standards were basically nonexistent). Jews also tended to live in walled, Jewish communities, originally by choice and later by force, which meant that there was limited interaction between us and the surrounding communities, making it less likely that an epidemic affecting the rest of the population would affect us. Some combination of these factors created an environment in which Jews were somewhat less affected by epidemics (or perhaps we were equally affected and blamed nonetheless). These expressions of antisemitism in traditional Ashkenaz, along with the massacres generated by the Crusades, caused more and more Jews to move east, especially to Poland. 

     From 1050-1550 Poland was a remarkably open and tolerant place. This toleration together with the antisemitism in Ashkenaz (antisemitism that would, unfortunately, also arrive to eastern Europe) led to a rapid growth in Poland's Jewish population, with some estimates suggesting that as much as 75% of the world's Jewry resided there by the end of the 16th century (other estimates suggest a smaller percentage). Jews in Poland entered into what would eventually be called the Arenda System. As in most places the nobility didn't actually do much work; they considered it beneath them (think about the family in the TV show Downton Abbey, for example). So when Am Yisrael began arriving the Polish nobility were more than happy to put us to use running various institutions (large farms, the official mint, etc.) and paying us a percentage of the earnings. Am Yisrael became so prosperous and numerous in Poland that we developed a national Jewish government--Va'ad Arbah Aratzot (Council of Four Lands)--that mirrored the Polish national government and included 70 Jewish representatives (the same number as the Sanhedrin) from around Poland. We began referring to Poland as Po Lan Ya: "Here lies God" (the "Ya" part is like Hallelu-ya). There were even Polish coins with Hebrew letters on them.

Polish coins with Hebrew letters from the 12th century

     Regular readers of the blog will no doubt already know what's coming next. As Poland prospered it spread east, conquering a people known as the Cossacks. The Cossacks differed culturally and religiously from the Polish nobility and eventually rebelled. Of course, one the groups to suffer most severely from this uprising was Am Yisrael, who were serving as intermediaries for the Polish nobility. The Khmelnytsky Massacres (named for the leader of the Cossacks, Bogdan Khmelnytsky) killed about 100,000 Jews in less than ten years, probably around 8% of the world's total Jewish population (today that would be about one million Jews).
     One of the things that has allowed Am Yisrael to survive and thrive despite the many tribulations that have come our way is our capacity to deal with tragedy. The destruction of the Second Temple led to the development of the Oral Torah and eventually the Talmud. The destruction of Spanish Jewry led to the development of Kabbalah, Jewish mysticism. In both of these cases the developments were an attempt to try and deal with the calamity that had befallen us. In this case, however, tragedy gave birth to more tragedy (at least in the beginning). In 1626 a man named Shabbtai Tzvi was born. He, with help from his "prophet" Nathan of Gaza claimed to be the Messiah. For the Jews of Poland (and for much of the Jewish world, who still remembered the tragedy of the Spanish Inquisition as well) the coming of the Messiah made perfect sense. It allowed them to explain the fall of Po Lan Ya as the birth pains of the coming of the Messiah. Eventually, the Ottoman Sultan (Shabbtai was born and spent most of his life in Ottoman lands) captured this rabble-rouser and gave him a choice between death and conversion to Islam. He chose Islam. And while a few of his followers continued to believe in him, for most of Am Yisrael it was a devastating let down.
     A few decades later Jacob Frank (who was born in Poland) claimed to be the reincarnation of Shabbtai Tzvi, collected many followers, and ultimately was a huge disappointment. While it would be incorrect to think of this solely as a Polish phenomenon, the success these two men had in accumulating followers was heavily influenced by the depth of the tragedy that was the destruction of Po Lan Ya. It's not an exaggeration to compare this destruction to what it would be like if the same sort of massacres occurred in the modern day US, which is currently a golden age for Am Yisrael. And while I can already hear the protestations of American Jews that "it could never happen here" (and I think you can make a reasonable argument that America really is a different country founded on different principles than any country before it) the Jews of Po Lan Ya would certainly have said the same thing (as would the Jews of Golden Age Spain or pre-Hitler Germany).
     Another more positive re-imagining of Judaism in the wake of the Khmelnytsky Massacres was the development of Chasidut. Yisrael ben Eliezer was born in Poland in 1698, and, unlike most Jewish leaders, was an underachieving scholar as a youth. He preferred to spend time out in nature. He often quoted Sanhedrin 106b (part of the Talmud) which says that "God desires the heart" and Isaiah 6:13 which says that "the earth is full of God's glory" to explain himself. From his perspective, rather than focus exclusively on study (which is not to say he considered it unimportant) each Jew needed to develop his personal connection with Hashem. To this end Yisrael ben Eliezer, who is called the Ba'al Shem Tov (or Besht for short), encouraged his followers to go out and nature and sing nigunim (songs without words) to connect with Hashem, such as this one:

     The development of Chasidut, while important in itself, also led to the development of the institution of the "Rebbe", the leader of a particular community who is generally seen to be a tzadik (righteous person) and to have an especially close relationship with Hashem. In Chasidic communities the Rebbe has the final say on virtually everything. One famous example of a Rebbe is the grandson of the Ba'al Shem Tov: Rabbi Nahman of Breslav (another is Rabbi Schneerson, who is believed to have been the messiah by many of his followers). Rabbi Nahman emphasized the concept of hitbodedut, which is the idea that each individual should have a personal relationship with Hashem, thinking of Hashem as a close, personal confidant with whom we have regular discourse. The sect he founded, the Breslovers (based on the name of the town where he's from, and a name the students found highly entertaining), believe deeply in Rabbi Nahman's idea that "it is a great mitzvah to always be happy," and so it's not uncommon to see them dancing in the streets.

     As the Chasidic movement gained traction a counter-movement based in Lithuania began, too, who called themselves the mitnagdim (the ones who oppose). They argued that the Chasidim were allowing their passions to run away with them, and encouraged a return to focus on Jewish study. The most well-known representative of the mitnagdim is the Vilna Gaon, who famously studied 18 hours a day. When one of his students asked him why he studied so much he answered that "If I don't study 18 hours a day the Jews of Poland won't study even 12 hours a day, the Jews of France not even 6 hours a day and the Jews of Britain won't keep Shabbat". Eventually the Haskalah (Jewish Enlightenment) rendered divisions between the Chasidim and mitnagdim less important. The Chasidim became more study oriented and eventually they both became what we'll call (in a later blog) ultra-Orthodox. 

Ashkenaz

     Most American Jews are what's known as Ashkenazi Jews, which, we'll often tell you, means that our families are from Eastern Europe (though part of my family is actually Sephardic, and I'm not just saying that because Passover is coming and I want to be allowed to eat rice). But Ashkenaz, originally, actually refers to the France-Germany region around the 11th century. As usual, a period of relative tolerance led to an increase in Jewish population and a flowering of Jewish scholarship. In class, we referred to this period as a "silver age", which I think is an accurate way to describe this period, but is not a clear, agreed-upon concept such as the Golden Age of Spain. During this "silver age" the Jews of Ashkenaz produced one of the most important Jewish scholars of all time: Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, or, as he's more commonly known, Rashi.
     Rashi was born in Troyes, France (southeast of Paris) in 1040 to a family that likely owned a vineyard and made wine for a living. He studied at Yeshivot in Mainz and Worms, two cities which had a significant Jewish presence due to their location on the Rhine (which made them major trade hubs). At the age of 25 he returned to his hometown and joined the Beit Din (Jewish court). In this capacity he began answering questions about Halacha in a process known as "she'elot v'tshuvot" (questions and answers, in English it's known as Responsa). Shortly thereafter he became the head of the Beit Din and then opened his own Yeshiva.

Monument to Rashi in his hometown of Troyes, France

     While his voluminous she'elot v'tshuvot were important to the development of Halacha, his most important contributions to Am Yisrael were the massive commentaries he wrote on both the Talmud (the first comprehensive commentary) and the Tanakh. Rashi's commentaries often give the pshat, or simple explanation of the text. It is often said that, with the help of Rashi, any educated child can understand these complicated texts (which makes all the more embarrassing that I still struggle with many of them, but that's a story for another day). Chabad.org explains:

Rashi’s primary quality was his perfect clearness; Rashi’s explanations always seem adequate. Rashi rarely raises questions of his own but, with uncanny anticipation of the difficulties the student will encounter, offers the required solution in a few well-chosen words. Yet Rashi is never diffuse; his terseness is universally conceded. A single word frequently suffices to summarize a remark or anticipate a question.

     One good example of Rashi's commentary is from the story of the Tower of Babel. In Breisheet 11 it is written "And the Lord came down to see the city and the tower, which the sons of men had built." The obvious question is, given God's omnipotence and omniscience, why would God need to "come down" in order to see the tower? Rashi explains "He [actually] did not need to do this. This is intended to teach judges not to convict the accused before they have seen [the case] and understood [it].  [This is found] in Midrash R. Tanchuma." (example taken from here) Here we see Rashi addressing the obvious question and providing a clear, simple answer. Why does the text describe Hashem as "coming down"? Because it wants to set the right example for judges.
     Other typical Rashi explanations include defining a challenging word (often in French, making Rashi an important source of 11th century French as well) or explaining why something is repeated. Unlike many other Rabbis (including many of Rashis students) he rarely offers mystical or allegorical explanations, preferring to simply explain the text as it's written. Rashi's commentary is so important that he has a defined place in every version of the Talmud that I'm aware of (the top corner closest to the book's binding). I've also been told that there are more commentaries on the Rashi (supercommentaries) then there are commentaries on the holy books themselves. While I have no idea if that's true or not, the mere fact that it's discussed speaks to Rashi's tremendous importance.
      As usual in Jewish history, the period of tolerance didn't last. The First Crusade, launched by a speech from Pope Urban II in November 1095, began a period of great difficulty for the Jews of Ashkenaz (again, meaning France/Germany). Many of the crusaders wondered why they were traveling across the world to fight the infidels (Muslims), when there were so many infidels (Jews) right here in their midst. This line of thought (along with, I'm sure, a healthy dose of opportunism) led to the Rhineland Massacres, which affected Rashi quite powerfully. Over the next several hundred years the Jews of Ashkenaz began to make their way east, to the burgeoning religious tolerance that would exist in Poland from roughly 1050-1550 (with periodic persecutions, of course). It is this migration that led Ashkenazi Jews to be associated with Eastern Europe. Sephardic Jews, discussed in the previous post, mostly fled by boat to various port cities around the world, such as Amsterdam, Italy, Salonica (in Greece) and Egypt (like Maimonides) among others.

Map of Jewish migrations from Ashkenaz and Sepharad

Current Events

     While I originally imagined I would update the blog each day as I taught the students I have (perhaps predictably) fallen a bit behind. One result of this is that I can never remember which current events I talked about on which day. So I currently have at least a dozen different articles open on my computer that I want to make sure and post. It's annoying. So here's a summary of the current events we've talked about over the last couple of weeks with their associated links. 

     In many cases the UN's behavior is somewhere between neutral and helpful to Israel (for example they have soldiers in southern Lebanon to help keep the peace). In other instances the UN is wildly anti-Israel. One prominent example is the UN Human Rights Council (UNHRC). The UNHRC uses every available opportunity (or invents its own opportunities) to denigrate Israel, such as this recent example. The only standing item on the UNHRC's agenda, is Israel. And while I'm happy to criticize Israel for a variety of different things, it's a wild exaggeration to treat Israel as the world's greatest violator of human rights. One of my personal favorite examples of the ridiculousness of the UNHRC is when Assad, current dictator of Syria who has, among other atrocities, gassed his own people, recently condemned Israel over our occupation of the Golan Heights. Seriously?

     For years AIPAC (America Israel Political Action Committee) has been THE Israel lobby in the US. They're apolitical, and have been very successful (in most cases) at drumming up support for Israel on both sides of the aisle. They're also very well-financed. Recently a new Jewish lobby, called J Street, was founded with express purpose of being Pro-Israel and Pro-Peace. In their opinion AIPAC has veered to the right, and they feel that creating two states is so important that they're willing to criticize the Israeli government (they certainly come off as telling Israel they know what's good for us better than we do, though I don't know if that's their intention), something AIPAC would never do. Other prominent Jews have criticized J Street for their hypocrisy, claiming that J Street vaunts the importance of the "big tent," meaning all Jewish organizations, regardless of politics, should have a voice in the Jewish community, but then don't allow any dissenting centrist and/or right wing positions at their own events. 

     Liberal Judaism is becoming more and more prominent in Israel. A recent poll suggests that 49% of the Israeli public would like the Rabbinate (the official Jewish religious body in Israel) to recognize Reform and Conservative Judaism (which is not currently recognized). On the one hand, this is clearly a big increase from 10-20 years ago. On the other hand, more than half the country still doesn't support the recognition of liberal Judaism. This means that there are many secular Jews (meaning non-observant) who don't support this recognition. Orthodox Judaism is viewed by many, even those who don't practice it, as the authentic Judaism. The joke in Israel is that "the beit knesset I don't go to is orthodox."

     Over the course of history Am Yisrael has arrived at a number of far flung locations. These small, often isolated communities sometimes develop distinct cultures and even languages. One such community, the Romaniotes, have been living in Greece for thousands of years. Unfortunately it seems like this fascinating community is nearing its end, mostly as a result of the Holocaust.  

     Many liberal Jews (such as myself) tend to be very frustrated with the ultra-Orthodox. They don't recognize me as Jewish (since my mother's mother isn't Jewish, though, ironically, my other three grandparents were). They rarely serve in the army. And they often forego work to spend their lives studying in Yeshiva, which means the state has to support them. But this article makes it clear that even Haredim (and Arabs) that want to work face significant discrimination when applying for jobs. I think that many of us could probably try harder not to be so negative about the ultra-Orthodox. 

     The kibbutz, an institution which played an enormous role in the foundation of the state and produced many of our leaders, has been on the decline for many years. The socialist economic model by which they live has proved ineffective and few kibbutz children have wanted to return and raise their own families in this environment. One affect of this failure of the traditional kibbutz has been privatization, meaning kibbutzes are no longer socialist. Recently, however, more and more Israelis have been seeking out the community that exists in kibbutz life, just without the socialism. 

     It's no secret that the peace talks orchestrated by Secretary of State John Kerry between Israel and the Palestinian Authority have been on rocky ground for quite some time. With the self-imposed deadline quickly approaching, all sides have been working to find a way to extend them. This is not to say that either side necessarily wants peace, but both sides are eager to avoid American blame and fearful of what might happen after the negotiations fail (as they likely will). Perhaps the framework of a deal has finally been worked out. Israel will release a number of prisoners (a compromise between the number originally offered by Israel and that demanded by the Palestinian Authority) to be chosen together, will limit settlement construction in certain areas (my guess is that means that settlements that are likely to remain in Israel, such as Ma'aleh Adumim, will be allowed to grow while settlements in the middle of the West Bank, like Qiryat Arbah, will not) and, as a sweetner, the US will release Israeli spy Jonathan Pollard. Pollard has been in jail for nearly 30 years for stealing American intelligence on Arab and Soviet states on Israel's behalf. Since then penalties for what he did have been significantly lessened (a spy from an allied country gets a maximum of 10 years unless they're stealing nuclear/military secrets). Under the terms by which he was convicted (a life sentence) he is eligible for parole after thirty years, which will be up next month. By releasing him a year early the US manages to keep the peace talks going and by securing his release I suspect Netanyahu (the Prime Minister) will gain significant political capital, perhaps some of which will be used to acquire support for a peace deal?

Sepharad (Spain)

     The Umayyad (Arab-Muslim) dynasty was ousted from power by the new Abbassid dynasty (founders of Baghdad) in the middle of the eighth century and all of its members were killed except for one prince who fled west to Spain. This prince went on to establish a Cordoba-based Caliphate which would be a beacon of tolerance for several hundred years. This tolerance, as it often does, attracted many Jews, and led to a flowering of Jewish (and non-Jewish) culture, which today we call the Golden Age of Spain. While there are arguments about the precise dates things certainly started improving for the Jews of Spain around the time the Umayyad prince arrived, peaked around 900-1000, and gradually declined until finally ending completely with the Spanish Inquisition and eventual expulsion of all Jews from Spain in 1492.
     To begin our class I explained that the arrival of Am Yisrael is often linked to periods of economic prosperity across many regions and eras. The reasons for this are manifold and complicated, but I'll mention a few. First of all, it's clear that the sort of tolerance that attracts Am Yisrael is, of itself, good for the economy. For example, there's evidence that the cities with the best economies in the US often have high concentrations of gay people. This is not to say that homosexuals are especially productive workers (I've never examined the question), but that the sort of city that is open to different lifestyles is often open to the sort of innovation that drives economic growth.
     Another reason that a Jewish presence historically correlates with economic growth is our international connections, and especially our international law. Part of this is the simple matter of language. Non-Jewish traders in Cordoba and Paris (for example) are going to have a harder time communicating than two Jews. Not only that (which is hardly an insurmountable problem), but two Jews will also have a common international law. The existence of and wide adherence to Jewish law (halacha) created the necessary trust that allowed for trade. Also, at this point Am Yisrael had already been based around the close analysis of a book for many centuries, meaning a far greater percentage of Jews were literate, another advantage in commercial activity.
     In class I tried to explain this Golden Age and its decline through looking at four of the most important Jews of the time: Hasdai ibn Shaprut (~915-970), Shmuel HaNagid (~993-1056), Yehuda HaLevy (~1075-1141) and Moshe ben Maimon (~1135-1204). Ibn Shaprut, the first character we met, was physician to the Caliph (Jews often practiced professions that could be taken with us on the run, such as doctor or jeweler), and minister of foreign affairs. He helped settle disputes between various Spanish factions as well as managing the Caliphate's correspondence with the Byzantine Empire (which included some...encouragement...for the Byzantines to treat their Jews respectfully). He also famously corresponded with the Khazars, a group of Central European Jews. Ibn Shaprut deserves the lion's share of the credit for turning Spain into an important Jewish center; he founded a number of yeshivas and imported the holy books they required from the major Jewish centers in Babylon. His own personal contribution to Jewish learning was the creation of the first Hebrew dictionary (which makes excellent sense given the surrounding Islamic culture, explained below).
     Shmuel HaNagid got his start as a shop owner near the palace. One of the Caliph's staff members used Shmuel HaNagid to conduct the Caliph's correspondence (note the importance of literacy), and from this beginning he rose to be the Caliph's head adviser and general. He's certainly one of the only Jews in history to lead a Muslim army, which says an awful lot about how tolerant Spain was at this time. He also was an avid poet, writing this poem about wine (again, showing the liberalness of the surrounding society).

ROUGE IN APPEARANCE

Rouge in appearance

   and pleasant to drink,

      mixed in Spain

   and prized in Bombay;

weak in its pitcher but rising to the head it

      rules in heads that sway.

Even the mourner whose tears

fall with his heart’s blood,

   disperses his grief in retreat with wine,

As though friends—passing the cup from hand to hand—

      were rolling dice, for a diamond.

Translated by Peter Cole

     Unfortunately, he's also an excellent example of the slow deterioration of Spain, as his son was killed in the Grenada Massacre of 1066. 

     Yehuda HaLevy is remembered primarily for his poetry, especially this one:

My heart is in the east, and I in the uttermost west--
How can I find savour in food? How shall it be sweet to me?
How shall I render my vows and my bonds, while yet
Zion lieth beneath the fetter of Edom, and I in Arab chains?
A light thing would it seem to me to leave all the good things of Spain --
Seeing how precious in mine eyes to behold the dust of the desolate sanctuary.

Even today these words are a powerful reminder of Am Yisrael's attachment to Eretz Yisrael. For example, the modern American Jewish musician Dan Nichols uses them as the inspiration for his song "My Heart is in the East"

This focus on words (like we see in ibn Shapurt's dictionary) and poetry is significantly due to the surrounding Muslim environment. Muslims take the prohibition against idols very seriously, and so it's virtually unheard of for traditional Muslims to engage in painting, sculpture or other visual arts (although even those things happen occasionally). Therefore, Muslim culture produced extraordinary poetry and calligraphy, such as this page from the Quran from 12th century Spain.

     With all this talk about poetry I decided to challenge the students to write some poems of their own. Of course, one of the most amazing things about Jewish poetry throughout the ages is that its often a mishmash of languages. In the case of the Golden Age of Spain it was often Ladino (a mixture of old Spanish and Hebrew) or Judeo-Arabic (a mixture of Arabic and Hebrew). To try and get the feel of what this is like the students wrote their poetry with English words in Hebrew characters (ok, so maybe it's not EXACTLY how the famous poets did it, but it was certainly entertaining). Check out the results (warning, some of the subject matter is intelligible only to teenagers).

Lyrics from an Eminem song

An Ode to Puppy Feet

One student's take on a classic. The first two words of the last line are a name.

     Our final representative from Muslim Spain is also our most famous: Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon (also known as Rambam and Maimonides). The Rambam was born in Spain in 1138, but when he was ten deteriorating political conditions forced his family to flee to Egypt, where he spent the rest of his life. In Egypt Maimonides became a prominent physician, serving, among others, Salahadin, who would eventually defeat the Crusaders retake Jerusalem. He was also a noted philosopher, using Aristotelian logic to prove the rationality of Judaism. But he is perhaps best known for his Jewish scholarship, which is still studied to this day. Among his most famous writings are his Thirteen Principles of Faith and his Mishne Torah (which is a concise, clear summary of all of halacha). 

     Although Maimonides family fled in the 12th century, many other Jews stayed, and there was still a thriving Jewish community for a couple hundred more years. The end of the Jewish community in Spain only happened in 1492, when the Alehambra Decree forced all Jews to either leave or convert. Many Jews decided to stay and become Conversos (also called Marranos among other names), Jews who outwardly pretended to be Christian. This undercover Judaism led to the Inquisition, in which suspected Jews were tortured until they admitted their Judaism. Here's one light-hearted look at what the Inquisition was like:

     One of the most interesting aspects of the Golden Age of Spain is how closely it mimics the modern American Jewish experience. Like Golden Age Spain Jews are accepted in virtually all walks of life. Like Golden Age Spain we've risen to positions of prominence in virtually every field. Given the similarities, it seems reasonable to ask ourselves whether American Jews should be worried about the same outcome. My gut reaction (and I imagine the reaction of most American Jews) is to say that it could never happen in America, but my guess is that if you asked the Jews of Golden Age Spain they would have said the same thing. 

Islam

     In my previous post I explained the flowering of Jewish culture on Persian rule that resulted in the Babylonian Talmud. Unfortunately, like all periods of prosperity, it didn't last (how's that for upbeat?). The Persians and the Byzantines (the remainder of the Roman Empire based in Asia Minor) spent most of the 6th century in a series of devastating wars. So by the year 600 they were exhausted in every sense of the word, making it very easy for the world's newest superpower to burst onto the scene, and that's exactly what the Arab Muslims did.
     The Arab people first show up in written history around the year 900 BCE (meaning, of course, they certainly existed before that), and up until the time of Muhammad were essentially synonymous with what we today call Bedouins, the nomads and semi-nomads who live in the desert. In the early 600s Muhammad was a poor man living in the city of Mecca, a trade hub which housed a stone considered holy by the pagan Arabs (the Kaaba stone). Like most nomads, in Arab culture there is a strong emphasis on family and tribal loyalty, which often leads to bitter rivalries between different families (something that can still be seen in the modern Arab world). So the world Muhammad lived in was full of various tribes in a constant state of semi-warfare.
     According to Muslim tradition (and virtually everything we know about Muhammad is based on tradition, rather than historical fact) Muhammad received the Quran over a period of years from the angel Gabriel (proof of its divine origin is the quality of its writing, impossible for an illiterate like Muhammad). He began to preach the teachings of this Quran around Mecca, which was met with disapproval, and in 622 Muhmmad and his followers fled to Medina, an event known as the Hijra, which represents the beginning of the Muslim calendar. In Medina Mumhammad was more successful, and after a number of years his expanded band of followers were able to conquer Mecca. Shortly thereafter Muhammad successfully united all the tribes of the Arab peninsula (which history has shown to be a very big deal, given how rarely the Arabs have been unified since then).
     As the Arab-Muslim empire began to expand, Muhammad died, passing on the leadership to a position called the Caliph, which is a combination of spiritual and temporal leader. The first few Caliphs are generally agreed (among Muslims) to have been good leaders, after which accounts start to differ. At any rate the first major dynasty to rule this new (and rapidly expanding empire) was called the Umayyad dynasty. Under the Umayyads the Arab-Muslim Empire reached its greatest extent (in around 750), which is shown below.

stages of Muslim conquest

     Compared to the Roman Empire, which took 1000 years to reach its peak, the Arab-Muslim Empire practically exploded onto the scene, helped along by the constant fighting between the Persians and Byzantines. But the Arabs, who were used to living as nomads/semi-nomads, had no experience governing large territories, so the burden/privilege of governance often fell on the same people who had been governing for years, with the Arab conquerors simply cracking the whip (I mean that figuratively, though I'm sure there were literal instances as well). By the time the Abbassid dynasty, which had replaced the Umayyads everywhere except for Spain (more on that in the next post), there were many non-Arab Muslims holding important posts. The Persians, especially, adopted the Arabic script and Muslim religion and mixed them together with Persian culture and governance. It was this milieu that led the Islamic civilization (which it's no longer really accurate to call Arab-Muslim, in my opinion) to the staggering heights it reached at its zenith in the 9th century. For hundreds of years Islam carried the torch of civilization while Europe recovered from the end of the Roman Empire, exemplified by the House of Wisdom built by the Abbassids in their new capital of Baghdad.
     So what exactly did these Muslims believe? First of all, they don't see Muhammad as having received anything new. In their view God had given the same message to Abraham, Moses, Elijah, Jesus, etc., but in each instance it was gradually lost. Therefore, virtually anyone who's considered holy by Jews or early Christians is also holy in Islam. From a Muslim viewpoint Muhammad is simply the last prophet, and this time the message didn't get lost.
     The essence of Islam is expressed in five "pillars." The first is a simple declaration of faith; Allah is God and Muhammad is his messenger. The second requires Muslims to pray five times a day. You can actually hear the beautiful call to prayer from our Arab neighbors here at Kibbutz Tzuba (and, truthfully, the call is a lot more beautiful in the middle of the afternoon than it is at 5:30 in the morning). The third requires Muslims to fast during the daylight hours during the entire month of Ramadan (which, compared to the secular calendar, moves each year because the Muslim calendar is lunar, like most non-agricultural peoples). The fourth is the requirement to give charity (2.5% of your savings per year if you have above a certain amount). The final requirement is to complete the Haj, a pilgrimage to Mecca, at least once in your life if you're able.
     As you can see, there are quite a few similarities between Muslim and Jewish beliefs. For example, Muslims and Jews both believe in one God, rather than the more complicated trinity worshiped by Christians (I'd like to be clear that Christians still certainly consider themselves monotheists, it's just more theologically complicated). But compared to pagans, all three of the Abrahamic faiths are quite similar, and so when Muslims conquered the world they gave a special status to the "peoples of the book" (Jews and Christians) known as Dhimmi. This status gave people of the book the right to live in Muslim society, though often with additional taxes and restrictions. Speaking very broadly, historically it has been better to be Jewish in a Muslim society than in a Christian one. 

Talmud

     In the previous post I discussed the development of the Torah She'be'al Peh (Oral Torah), mentioned a few of its main contributors (Hillel, ben Zakai and Akiva) and explained how it was finally written down around 200 CE by Yehuda HaNasi and named the Mishna. Of course, the second it was written down it began to face the same problems the Oral Torah was originally meant to solve: a lack of flexibility and an inability to address changing circumstances. Given that these are problems Am Yisrael had already dealt with once before we had a solution ready. In the same way that the Mishna developed as a series of discussions between Rabbis about the text of the Tanakh that were eventually written down, the Gemara developed as a series of discussions about and interpretations of the Mishna, which were eventually written down. The Mishna and the Gemara together are called the Talmud (from the Hebrew root meaning "to learn"), which is written predominantly in Aramaic, the vernacular of 4th and 5th century Mesopotamia.
     Up until now, aside from a few years in exile in Babylon and a quick jaunt down to Egypt for some slavery, the center of Am Yisrael (the people of Israel) has been in Eretz Yisrael (the land of Israel). But the complete decimation of the land and its people due to the Great Revolt (66-70) and the Bar Kochva revolt (132-135) and the subsequent rise of Christianity slowly pushed more and more of Am Yisrael into the Galut (exile/diaspora). So while there was a Talmud published in Eretz Yisrael, it seems to have been done hurriedly and not at the highest possible level. Also, as you might expect, the Talmud that was published in Israel, called the Jerusalem Talmud (though it was definitely not written in Jerusalem, where Jews were nearly non-existent at this point), deals quite a bit with laws that are specific to the land of Israel. This meant that part of it was irrelevant to Galut Jews, who would make up the majority of Am Yisrael from this point all the way to the modern day (today probably a bit more than half of Am Yisrael live in Eretz Yisrael). For both of these reasons--its less-than-optimal quality and its focus on Eretz Yisrael--the Jerusalem Talmud is secondary in Jewish tradition.
     The main Talmud from which Jews study even today was written several hundred miles away in Mesopotamia (the land between the Tigris and Euphrates River, modern day Iraq) and known as the Babylonian Talmud. It's this series of books you'll find in virtually any observant Jewish home. This process was begun by a man named Abba Arikha (known simply as "Rav", which means Rabbi, in the Talmud), a Mesopotamia-born student of Yehuda HaNasi (codifier of the Mishna). Rav, after studying in Israel, returned to Mesopotamia and opened a famous academy at Sura (there was another at Pumbedita), which cultivated the creation of the Gemara (Rav is also known for codifying the Jewish prayer the Aleinu, which is first written down in Rav's Rosh Hashanah service).
     The Jews of Mesopotamia, under the control of a Persian Empire, were prosperous and generally allowed a good amount of autonomy. This allowed scholarship on the Gemara to flourish, and by around 400 Rav Ashi, a famous head of the Sura Academy, had begun to organize it and write it down, similar to what Yehuda HaNasi did with the Mishna. This process of culling and organizing was eventually completed by his students, and by the year 500 the Babylonian Talmud was more or less complete.
     To try and understand the Talmud (and Jewish law in general) we can compare it to American law. In the US all law is based on the Constitution. But of course the Constitution doesn't comment on things such as the legality of downloading music without paying for it. So why is downloading music illegal? At some point a judge decided that, based on his understanding of the Constitution, downloading music should be illegal (perhaps it's similar to something that is explicitly illegal in the Constitution?). This ruling then became a part of the law, so that the next judge doesn't necessarily have to go back at the Constitution, he can simply site the original case, which decided that downloading music without paying is illegal.
     In Judaism, all law is based upon the Tanakh. But, just as with the Constitution, the Tanakh doesn't explicitly cover each issue. Therefore as new issues arise the Rabbis make their best interpretation and those interpretations/decisions get written down, and that's what became first the Mishna and then the Gemara (and together the Talmud). This process continues today as various commentaries on the Talmud. Here's a link to a famous Talmudic passage in which the Rabbis are discussing the phrase "an eye for an eye". This particular tractate is dealing with how to assess damages (ie should you actually poke out their eye or does the phrase actually mean compensation) Be warned it's very difficult to understand without a background or proper teacher, but definitely give it a try! The part at the beginning in all caps is the Mishna; the part after that is the Gemara. 

Torah she'be'al peh: The Oral Torah

     Today we were on an amazing tiyul (field trip) in the north of the country. We began at Beit Shearim, which is just southeast of Haifa, then cut across the country to Beit Alfa, which is near Beit She'an on Israel's Eastern border, and finished up with a dip in the beautiful Sachne Pools nearby. But, as usual, we began with current events. This morning a Jewish government official in the Ukraine criticized Israel's lack of support for the Ukranian Jewish committee during this unsettled time in Ukraine. According to the article he requested that Israel send security help for Jewish institutions such as btei knesset (synagogues) and Jewish day schools. This puts Israel in an interesting conundrum. On the one hand, it's probably not politically expedient for Israel to get into a conflict with Russia, and any such aid would likely cost Israel both financially and in terms of our relationship with a number of Eastern European countries. On the other hand, isn't at least part of the point of having a Jewish state the ability to help Jews around the world? The students had a lot of interesting reactions to this question ranging from "it's too costly for Israel" to "Israel should make clear that aliyah is an option but not get directly involved in security in Ukraine" to "Israel should send some personnel to help secure Jewish facilities." What role do you think Israel should play?
     So why were we up north? After the destruction of Beit HaMikdash in 70 and the Bar Kochba revolt from 132 to 135 Jerusalem and the center of the country were completely destroyed and the center of Jewish life moved to the north. The Sanhedrin, for example, moved among places such as Tzippori, Beit Shearim and Tiberias (and is therefore known as the "Wandering Sanhedrin" during this time). During this time the most important development for Am Yisrael was the continued progression of the Torah she'be'al peh (Oral Torah or Oral law). I explained the principles behind the development of the Oral Torah in a previous post, but it's basically the tradition that was passed down to explain difficulties/incongruities in the written text, and by the arrival of the Romans (63 BCE) it was already a prominent part of Jewish thought. The destruction of Beit HaMikdash by Titus basically ended the Sadduccee sect, whose Judaism was based on Beit HaMikdash and who didn't accept the legitimacy of the Oral Torah, leaving only the Pharisees, now the leaders of Am Yisrael, and their academies, the centers where the Oral Law developed.
     I've already mentioned a few of the most important Rabbis in this process: Hillel, who applied Hellenistic logic to Jewish law and developed hermeneutical principles (some of which will be familiar to modern lawyers, such as an "a fortiori" argument), and Yochanan ben Zakai, who fled the besieged Jerusalem, established an academy in Yavneh, and began to build a Judaism not based around Jerusalem and Beit HaMikdash. In my previous post I mentioned Rabbi Akiva, spiritual leader of the Bar Kochva revolt, who died gruesomely in an amphitheater while saying the Shema (the central statement of faith in Judaism). Rabbi Akiva is generally credited with beginning to organize the Oral Torah. As you can imagine the main way people studied the Tanakh was in order, beginning with Breisheet (Genesis) and proceeding through Shemot (Exodus), Vaykira (Leviticus), etc. But as we more explicitly defined the goal of study to be understanding which laws can be derived from the Tanakh this wasn't an effective method, so Rabbi Akiva organized the Oral Torah into six books, arranged by subject. Now, to learn about the laws regarding Shabbat, for example, you didn't have to search through several different books of the Tanakh and find the appropriate interpretation; you could simply look at the section dealing with laws about Shabbat.
     One of the next major contributors to the Oral Torah (and obviously I'm leaving out many important people) was Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi, who is the reason we began our tiyul in Beit Shearim, where, according to tradition, he is buried. During the time when Yehuda HaNasi was active (around 200 CE) he noticed at least two main problems with the Oral Torah. First, given the number of Jews who had been killed during the two revolts and the ongoing persecution against Am Yisrael, he recognized the difficulty in depending on the tannaim (who memorized and passed on the Oral Torah), who might be killed at any moment. Second, he saw that as the process of Oral Law drew wider acceptance there were more and more interpretations to the various stories and laws. While this flourishing of Jewish thought certainly had many positive aspects, it also made it more likely for there to be a sect (or sects), such as the Christian Jews, who would eventually break away from Judaism. Given these realities he made the controversial decision to write down the Oral Torah, which he organized in the six categories developed by Rabbi Akiva and is today known as the Mishna.
     Today, it seems quite obvious that writing down the Mishna (or anything else you want to preserve) is a good idea, but there are several problems. The first is that writing down the Oral Torah destroys one of its main advantages: its ability to adapt to new circumstances. Once its written down it loses its flexibility (and we'll see how Am Yisrael deals with this problem in a later blog). Another main concern is that in writing down the Oral Torah Yehuda HaNasi had to decide which traditions/interpretations to include and which to leave out. In explaining this to the students I asked them to consider what they would write today if they had to make an official determination about what is Jewish. Most Jews would clearly describe someone who wears a kippah, prays three times a day, studies Torah and behaves in a morally just way as Jewish, and most Jews would clearly describe someone who goes to church every week and accepts Jesus as his personal savior as non-Jewish. The question is where do we draw the line? Does being Jewish only mean behaving ethically? Does it mean a minimum number of visits to Beit Knesset every week/month/year? Does it mean celebrating Jewish holidays, or speaking Hebrew? If I "feel Jewish" does that make me Jewish? It's obviously a very difficult question to answer, and I hope you'll share your own view in the comments.
     Also on this tiyul we saw what it was like for Am Yisrael to live as a minority among a strong majority culture (sound familiar?) and the influences the majority culture can have. At Beit Shearim we saw rabbis' graves with pictures of eagles, the symbol of Rome, and even Nike, the goddess of victory. At Beit Alpha we saw the beautiful mosaic floor of a Beit Knesset, which had a picture of the Roman sun god Helios in the middle.

part of the mosaic floor in the beit knesset at beit alpha showing the god Helios

     After seeing these somewhat surprising images in slightly uncomfortable places I asked the students what they made of it, and how they thought it compared to their modern day lives. Many of them accepted the ubiquity of modern American Christian culture (I think about half had sung Christmas songs as part of being in Chorus class), but still felt like these particular instances were going too far (a foreign god in a beit knesset!). Both of these discussions were incredibly interesting, and I hope the students (and anyone else who's interested!) will share their thoughts in the comments. A few of them also wrote about which cultural practices and symbols we can adapt and use as Jews in their own blogs, so check them out!

More Christianity and the Bar Kochva Rebellion

     One of the current events we talked about in class recently is the Hezbollah soldiers who recently died in battle in the Syrian Civil War. Hezbollah (literally the party of god, or Allah in Arabic) is a Shiite (one of the two main branches of Islam) terrorist organization/political party based in Lebanon originally founded to force the IDF out of southern Lebanon (a small part of which we occupied for security purposes for about 20 years). As you can imagine this resistance made them a popular organization both in Lebanon and throughout the Arab world. Also, like so many of these organizations, they also provide a variety of social services within Lebanon. Syria, Lebanon's much larger and more powerful neighbor, has long had an outsize influence on Lebanon, and especially on Hezbollah. Bashar Assad, the head of the Syrian government, is an Alawite, which is a branch of Shiite Islam (and both Syria and Lebanon are supported with arms, money and training by Shiite Iran). Perhaps it should come as no surprise then that Hezbollah decided to enter the Syrian Civil War on behalf of the government forces.
     Unfortunately for Hezbollah siding with a dictator to kill other Arabs has proven a less popular decision both at home and among the Arab world than trying to force Israel out of Lebanon was. This has led to a number of attacks in Lebanese territory. Some of them have been individual bombings in Hezbollah strongholds. But recently, various units fighting against the Assad/Hezbollah/Iran alliance in Syria have also, in certain instances, moved into Lebanese territory. Another result of this alliance, which has existed for years, but never as overtly and strongly as it does now, has been to increase Sunni (the other main branch of Islam) resistance. This resistance has been led by countries such as Saudi Arabia, who, though they can't exactly come out and say it, are clearly as worried by the results of the civil war (and, eventually, perhaps a nuclear Iran) as Israel. But that's enough complicated Middle Eastern politics, let's get back to the development of Christianity.
     In my last blog I summarized the life of Yehoshua ben Yosef (Joshua son of Joseph, commonly known as Jesus) and explained a few main differences between Judaism and Christianity. But of course that was only the very beginning of the Christian story. In the roughly three centuries that followed the life of Yehoshua the Christians were persecuted terribly (and I say that as a Jew whose fully aware how badly the Jews have been persecuted over the years). Though of course history actually moves in fits and starts, we can say that by around the time of the emperor Constantine (~320) Christianity had become an accepted religion (his mother was Christian and it is said that he saw a cross in the sky before a famous battle, which he won) and by the end of the 4th century it was the official religion of the Roman Empire.
     This official adoption by the Roman Empire had important consequences for the way Christianity was organized. In general, it mirrored the organization of the Roman Empire. So, for example, Constantine's new capital Constantinople (today's Istanbul) became an important center of Christianity. When the Western Roman Empire fell in 476 CE the Eastern Roman Empire (which history would call the Byzantine Empire) became the standard-bearer for Christianity. This split, between the conquered west and the unconquered east would eventually lead to the Great Schism in 1054 in which Eastern and Western Christianity split.
     Christianity also underwent important theological changes in the centuries after Yehoshua's death. Arguably the most important influence came from Paul, originally a Jew named Saul, who converted to Christianity after famously having a vision of Yehoshua while on the road to Damascus. After this experience he became a major proselytizer for Christianity. Not only that, but while previously the target audience for proselytizing Christians had been Jews, Paul preached mainly to pagans, traveling extensively within the Roman Empire and famously writing many epistles (letters) to other communities, many of which are preserved in the Christian Bible.
     Paul, along with his extensive outreach, also made significant changes to the substance of Christianity (as always, it's unlikely that he thought of and enacted these changes alone, but he's generally the face of them). Whereas Yehoshua had said he didn't intend to change even a word of the law, Paul (and others like him) decided that certain Jewish practices, such as circumcision and keeping Kosher, were unnecessary in Christianity. In the instance of circumcision, for example, Paul said that merely getting circumcised didn't make you a good person; its your actions that matter, and so he advocated a "circumcision of the heart" rather than a literal circumcision. While Jews would agree that getting circumcised doesn't make you a good person, our view is that it's a physical symbol of our covenant with HaShem (the Hebrew phrase for circumcision is literally a covenant), which should help us remember how to behave. In fact, virtually all Jewish rituals are to help us remember some particular message or event.
     While it seems clear that Paul's new version of Christianity came from an honest place--Yehoshua himself pointed out that the trappings of holiness, such as priestly garments, aren't what actually make you holy--it certainly didn't lessen Christianity's appeal. You can imagine an ancient Roman who admired Judaism's morality and views on god considering conversion only to decide against it when he learned he'd have to cut off a little part of his best friend. Paul solved this problem for Christianity.
     Another important Christian thinker was St. Augustine, who was active around the year 400. At this point Rome, who had ruled the world for at least 500 years, was clearly in decline, and would be sacked for the first time since 390 BCE (an interval of 800 years) during his lifetime. Partially as a response to this he wrote the book "City of God", explaining that the physical existence in this life was far less important than the world-to-come. Like Paul, he was clearly a brilliant scholar and deep thinker, but you can imagine the appeal of this idea in a world in which the physical conditions were rapidly deteriorating.
     St. Augustine also dealt with the intellectual conundrum that was the continued existence of the Jews. If, as he knew to be the case, Christianity was True, how can we explain the continued existence of Am Yisrael (the Jewish people)? Shouldn't they all have died out and/or converted to Christianity? St. Augustine's answer is that Am Yisrael survived in order to act as witnesses to the glory of Christianity and to serve as a warning to Christians. He also contributed to the development of the idea of "original sin" (discussed in the previous blog) and just war theory. Even today his writings continue to exert a major influence on Christian thinkers (and even general philosophy).
     Back in Eretz Yisrael things weren't going well for Am Yisrael. After the Great Revolt of 66-70, which culminated in the destruction of the Second Temple, we were able to pick ourselves up and re-establish some kind of community. Unfortunately, 50 years later, the Roman emperor Hadrian rose to power, who was an avid Hellenist. As such, he clashed with Am Yisrael, passing laws forbidding circumcision (which, in his view, mutilated the beautiful human body), building a pagan temple on the site of the destroyed Beit HaMikdash (Temple) and even renaming Jerusalem Aelia Capitolina, a combination of his own name and that of Rome's chief deity.
     Not surprisingly these measures led to a Jewish revolt. Whereas during the Great Revolt Am Yisrael was divided and fighting among ourselves, this time we were united under the military/political leadership of Shimon bar Kochva (bar Kochva was a play on his actual name; it means "son of star), who was widely believed to be the messiah, and the spiritual leadership of Rabbi Akiva (more on him in the next blog about the further development of the Oral Torah). This revolt was so successful that there was actually an independent Jewish state for more than two years, and it took up to half of the entire Roman army (this is the higher side of various estimates, but its clear that it took a huge force) to put it down. Rome's 12th legion, for example, was erased from history during the rebellion (and maybe the 9th as well). Bar Kochba and co even printed their own coins.

coins from the brief Jewish state founded by bar Kochva. left: Beit HaMikdash with the Ark of the Covenant within. right: a lulav and etrog, symbols of the Jewish holiday of Sukkot

     Unfortunately for Am Yisrael, this revolt happened right at the peak of Rome's powers, and so they eventually put it down. To combat bar Kochba's guerrilla tactics the Romans embraced a scorched earth strategy, destroying absolutely everything. There are many stories about the ferocity of the destruction. The Jerusalem Talmud, for example, writes that the Romans "went on killing until their horses were submerged in blood to their nostrils". One Roman historian estimates that nearly 600,000 Jews were killed (even today that would be nearly 5% of the Jewish population). 

     After the rebellion the anti-Jewish laws became even stricter. Hadrian wanted to completely extirpate Am Yisrael so, among other punishments, he ceremonially burned the Torah scroll on the site of the destroyed Beit HaMikdash. Another unforeseen result of the rebellion was a further split between Judaism and Christianity. While there were certainly multiple reasons that the Christians chose not to participate in the rebellion, one major consideration was that they couldn't accept that bar Kochba was the messiah. 

     This rebellion, in my opinion, is more problematic than the Great Revolt. It's easy to make the case that the Great Revolt was a huge mistake, one for which we must largely blame ourselves (which is not to excuse the role the Romans played). In this case, though, it's more complicated. How should we have reacted to Hadrian's laws? At what point do you say "enough is enough"? When he renamed Jerusalem? When he outlawed circumcision? When he built a pagan temple on Har HaBayit (the Temple Mount)? How should we have reacted?