Jerusalem Stories

This evening Carm and I went to see a play in Hebrew called Jerusalem Stories. Directed by Carol Grossman after four years of interviewing and researching, this play put on stage some of the many confronting and challenging life experiences that are common to the citizens of Jersualem. The two actors portrayed six characters, three Israeli and three Palestinian. There was a bus driver who was injured in a suicide bombing, a Jewish woman who joins a tehillim group that gives her strength, a Palestinian older lady who has to cross several border crossings in order to sell her fruits in Jerusalem, an uncle of a young boy killed in the Al Aqsa mosque riots of the second intifada, a displaced Palestinian who reminisces on his childhood playing downball against the Western wall, and perhaps most touchingly, a mother of a 15 year old boy who was killed in a suicide attack in Ben Yehuda St. All the stories are based on real interviews conducted in the years prior. When the actress portraying Miri, (the mother of Assaf who was killed on Ben Yehuda) spoke, the room became chillingly quiet. There was enormous sadness in her monologue, in particular as she described reading in the newspaper that the mother of her sons’ killer was proud of her son, and would gladly sacrifice her other children for a similar cause.

The play is also being performed in Arabic in East Jerusalem. After the show we sat in a circle on the stage and were invited to share our reactions to the play. In a very heated hour of conversation, we talked of how it feels to have the others’ side of the story told so sympathetically, what it is like to live in fear, what we have done to create this enormous hatred from Palestinians, and what some solutions may be. During the course of the discussion, we realized that one of the participants was the real ‘Miri’, the mother of Asaf Avitan
who was murdered along with 10 other youths one Saturday Night on Rehov Ben Yehuda in December 2001.

When Miri spoke and explained who she was, the group fell silent. Her grief was palpable, and even though several years have passed, it is clearly a very raw pain for her. Her contribution to the discussion was in a sense quite aggressive towards the other participants who were mostly sympathetic to the Palestinian cause. She hated the way leftist ranted on about the checkpoints and the occupation, as if this somehow justified the motivation of the murders who killed her son. She said, “If I had to live with a giant wall and checkpoints and was greatly inconvenienced each day on my way to work, but all this meant that I could see my son again, I could live with this.” She continued, “So many of you here criticize the wall for the hardship it causes to ordinary Palestinians, but I tell you, had that wall been built around Abu Dis(a Palestinian suburb east of Jerusalem) in 2001, the those two Hamas bombers would have never been able to reach my son and the hundreds of others victims that evening.”
Some tried to respond to this by saying that the harm we cause to the Palestinian is greater than what they inflict on us. She responded by saying “This is not Switzerland or Holland. We can’t have dialogue groups and hold hands and think it will make things peaceful. It’s the Middle East. We are playing with fire here. After 59 years, this state needs firm and clear borders. Only that will make us safe.”

Tisha BeAv in Jerusalem

For those reading this from abroad, just letting you now that Israel is always very warm during this time of year, so this blog will be experienced best in the room of your house that makes you most sweaty.

The day before Tisha B’Av I visited an Israeli youth movement camp to see how Zionism and Judaism are taught to Israelis. When they do their “issues in Israel” peulot (very similar format to how youth movements run in Australia in terms of trigger, circle, discussion , sikkum) it was interesting to hear how the Israeli kids responded to the many issues facing their country including areas such as the environment, treatment of women (agunot), disabled people and foreign workers by both government policy and/or social discrimination.

In the leadup to Tisha B’Av the students each wrote about their own personal churban (destruction). Many spoke about the war last summer. The mudrichim emphasized the national dimension of Tisha B’Av as well.

I heard Megillat Eicha in a very warm room sitting on the floor with some 240 campers. In between each chapter, the mudrichim took on roles to create dramatic interludes. After perek one, a very passionate text sounding like it could have been written by Jeremiah, extolled the Jews to look at themselves and see what their sinat chinam has caused. A second act involved single, powerful words being read out around the room. A third and most powerful act included no words, just an old woman standing in the middle of the room and holding a baby and weeping.

On the day of Tisha B’Av I spent the afternoon at Beit Avi chai(www.avi-chai.org). It is a cultural center situated in the center of the city, “in the heart of the thought process, mindset and creation of Jewish and Israeli society.”

This cultural center believes in gathering the voices heard in the Jewish-Israeli dialogue, to give them a facility to allow them to be heard and have an effect on Israeli society and culture.

The architecture of the building is extraordinary in its size, décor and facilities perfect for any cultural event in the city. The building is situated in the center of Jerusalem, with a convenient location, in between the Jewish Agency building and the Great Synagogue, near the Prime Minister`s house and other important landmarks in the city.

To mark Tisha B’Av, they screened a number of films on the topic of ‘baseless hatred’ and love(bac.org.il). The auditorium was packed, so they filled the upstairs classrooms as well. I assume there were many hundreds of people there, from their attire, most seemed to be modern-orthodox.
The first film screened was called Neila (Sam Speigel film school) and depicted a struggle between two shules. It’s a story familiar to Jews the world over.

The next film was Eicha (Maale film school). It depicted a national religious family who had four children named Sinai, Yerushalayim, Hevron and Eicha. The parody of the fundamentalism of the Dati Leumi community interposed by the ignorance and lack of sensitivity of the secular community made many people laugh. A few thought, is it right to watch a comedy on such a day? I think so. Perhaps laughing at ourselves is the first step at realising how ridiculous many of the stereotypes we create for each other are. This in turn may lead to ahavat chinam, instead of sinat chinam, which lead to the destruction of the temple in the first place.

The next screening was one episode from an Israeli miniseries named “Merchak Negia” which dealt honestly with issues of Russian aliya (doctor becomes parking attendant), violence in Haredi communities (husband beating wife is hushed up), love between religious and secular Jews (you can guess how it ends) and the way that honors are doled out in Haredi communities (who gets to write the final letter at a siyum sefer torah). All in 40 minutes. Amazing. Only in Israel could such a documentary be made where one can’t help but identify so closely with each character. It was an amazing example of how a piece of art can change years of perceptions and stereotypes that are crafted so consistently negatively here by the media.

The final movie I saw was "Ruach Kadim". Around the time of Israel’s 50th birthday, there were many films made that tell the story of the history of the Nation since the birth of Zionism. Ruach Kadim was made as a response to those other films. The director, Haim ben Sheetrit, felt that these other films, such as ‘Tkuma’, only told of the establishment of Ashkenazi narrative. So he decided to create a film with only Mizrachi voices about the early years of the State. Ruach kadim focuses mainly on the Moroccon aliya after 1948, concentrating on the experiences of former MKs Aryeh Deri (jailed Shas member) and Shlomo Ben Ami (former foreign minister).


It featured many difficult truths about the lies used by the Sochnut (Jewish Agency) to entice the Moroccan Jews to make Aliyah, the selection process which took place (Jews who were not fit to work were not invited to Israel) and the horribly paternalistic manner in which they were treated when they arrived. Never were they told where they were going - many ended up in peripheral border towns in the middle of no-where, when they believed they would live in Jerusalem or Haifa). The children’s heads were shaved and they were sprayed with DDT as if they were infected. The pride and rich heritage of these Jews were stripped from them.
As you can imagine, the discussion after the film was extremely heated. Many disputed the filmmakers one sided approach, whilst others applauded this rare telling of a Mizrachi rather than Ashkenazi narrative of recent Zionist history. In response to one of the comments, Moshe ben Sheetrit said “kulanu Bachyanim.” We are all criers. Each segment of Israeli society has its own discrimination story. Each segment claims that its suffering was the worst. Each group is crying for the sympathy of the others. Sheetrit said the fact that so many were offended by his film shows how much we still have to learn as an Israeli society. Why is it that one can’t listen to one person’s narrative of history, and empathise with their pain and their hurt, without judging them and dismissing their feelings?

For my part, the most insightful moment of the day occurred during a break between films when I had a chat with two lovely Yemenite girls. Both in their twenties, their families had similar stories to those depicted in the films. One pointed out that for all the poor treatment suffered by both the Mizrachi Jews and the many other migrant groups, we as a society learned nothing. And what evidence did she have to support this assertion? Look at the status of Ethiopian Olim in Israel today. Many are poorly integrated into Israeli society and have become the new underclass.

Tisha B’Av is more than a day to mourn an ancient temple. It is a day of reflecting on the national calamities we have suffered and inflicted. I can’t think of a better place to explore this than the in the heart of the capital of the Jewish state. Welcome to Israel!

Altneuland (Old-New Land)

I am writing this entry on a train ride from Milan heading towards the political and spiritual capital of the empire that has had more influence over Judaism than any other. ROME!

For many years, I have been amazed at Israel’s balance and blend of the ancient and the new. I used to think that ancient ruins next to mobile phone towers was unique to the Jewish state. Bat alas, today in Italy I find an equally stark contrast where see that people are more enraptured with contemporary materialism (the latest mobile phone and Fendi bag) than the rich history, archaeology and flavor of ancient Rome.

But why am I writing about Israel in Italy? Because like Israel, the beautiful country of Italy, and especially Milan where I have spent the past few days, is a contradiction of ancient and modern. Wandering down past medieval canals constructed by Leonardo Da Vinci, through cobbled streets filled with romantic terraced apartments decorated with renaissance art, one will be enthralled by more than just the magnificent gelati ice creams and pizzas. The architecture here devoted to the glorification of Christianity is breathtaking, none more so than the finely sculpted cathedral, the Vernada Fabbrica Del Duomo.

I have never seen a more awesome physical structure for the glory of God, or perhaps for the power of the church. Many visitors tour the great expanse of this magnificent place of worship. Some pray, some take pictures, some take a moment to be inspired by the architectural greatness of Italy’s Renaissance engineers and artists whose work so finely adorns this structure.

Whilst some revere this place as holy through prayer, others see it as another place to tick off on the standard European backpacker itinerary, as having “done it”. There are lovers who cavort intimately on the roof, youngsters who joke around and complain about the stairs, whilst meters away, thousands gather to shop for some of the most exclusive handbags and shoes in Europe with labels such as Luis Vuitton and Prada. I had previously thought that such a blend of the sacred and the profane was something only apparent in Israel.

Milan’s’ Golden Quadrangle’ is the hedonistic end point of limitless consumer culture manufacturers for clothing and accessories. In this street block, finely dressed shoppers from across the world gaze at the immaculately presented windows of Dolce & Gabbana and Versace to name a few. I guess because those that shop in this area would be reluctant to tempt the gods of fashion with poorly dressed staff, there is even a shop devoted entirely to the stylish dressing of maids and servants.

Old and new are like mozzarella is to pizza here in Italy. The same was true in England, where I saw similar images around St Paul’s cathedral in London.
This train ride is about to terminate at Rome’s central station. As we enter this historic city, I am reminded of the contrast, namely, that our ancestors arrived here in chains, whilst we arrive here with backpacks. I conclude by hoping that as I enter Ben Gurion airport this Friday, the old and new of Israel are less palpable, and perhaps more palatable!

Senior Educators Program

In three weeks I will be leaving Melbourne for a year of study in Israel as a member of the Senior Educators Program, which as based at the Melton Centre for Jewish Education of the Hebrew University.

The Senior Educators Program offers Jewish educators from all over the world a unique opportunity for professional development and personal enrichment. Participants from assorted countries and cultures, representing every stream of contemporary Jewish life, bring their varied professional backgrounds and diverse areas of expertise to the Program. Senior Educators explore innovative approaches to Jewish education, probe critical issues in Jewish thought and develop new skills to bring home to their communities. Over 300 Jewish educators have graduated from the program.

So why is Ittay swapping Caulfield for Katamon? Well, in the past five years I have been working as a professional Jewish educator, I have come to a number of conclusions.

1. Love – I love what I do. I love the students, the staff, the ability to positively influence the Jewish identity of those around me and the opportunity to entertain and make people happy.
2. Israel – This is the place to be to learn about what I do. Because Israel, is the best textbook I have found yet to learn about being Jewish. It is one giant laboratory, filled with 5,393,600 Jews and 1,413,500 Arabs. Herzl outlined his vision for this experiment in Altneuland. To put it mildly, it hasn’t turned out as he expected. (The book repeatedly makes the point that Arabs in Herzl's utopian state have equal rights, and one of them, Rashid Bey, is deputy prime minister. The villain of Altneuland is not an Arab but a Jew - a rabbi who runs for office on a platform of depriving non-Jews of citizenship.) I want to find out why modern Israel hasn’t turned like any of the Zionist thinkers envisioned. I think this guy has good idea about what went wrong and how to fix it. Expect more on this topic went I begin blogging from Jerusalem.
3. Judaism – It's an extraordinary belief system that dictates a way of living and describes a God that never ceases to fascinate me. Educating about Judaism can become an incredibly rewarding and life-changing profession after a while. It has for me. The nature of the content I teach constantly forces me to reflect upon my own Jewish identity and practice, as much as I ask my students to do the same.

So there you have it, that’s my preamble. I’m looking forward to writing the story of one Australians take on Jewishness in a Jewish state over the period of a year. I invite you to visit this blog once a month and join me for the ride.

Sex Education – One Jewish Perspective

As part of my work, I read many divrei torah on everything from Zionism, environmentalism, consumerism and most often, the weekly parasha. Usually the parasha shiurim, no matter what the week, retell the narrative of the sidra, and conclude with a moral lesson that one should attempt to implement in the following week. Cute… but not always gripping stuff.

It is for this reason, that I was pleasantly surprised to read a very main stream rabbi, Shlomo Riskin, writing on a very mainstream website, Jerusalem Post, about what some may consider a taboo area in terms of topics for divrei torah.

For those of you who are fans of the weekly parasha like me, you will have found the past months quite difficult. You see, the torah starts with some great narratives and heroes, Abraham and Sarah, Tamar and Yehuda, Joseph and the decent to Egypt, Moses, the great Exodus… and after this gripping formative narrative, …. well on the face of it… a whole lot of boring details about an ancient temple which was essentially a massive slaughterhouse of animals with literally a river of blood flowing through it.

From Parashat Terumah onwards great detail is given about the construction of the Mishkan, the portable sanctuary that was the centre of the Israelites' religious life during the years they wandered in the wilderness. The Book of Leviticus (named thematically so due to it’s laws concerning the Levites and the sacrificial cult) deals almost exclusively with this topic. For a non temple fan like myself, what can I learn from the parshiot at this time?

Rabbi Riskin piqued my interested again in parsha with his commentary on the parsaha last month entitled Parshot Vayakhel-Pekudei: Sacred Sex.

Referencing the pasuk "The cherubs were with wings spread upwards, sheltering the Ark cover... with their faces toward one another" - (Exodus 37:9) he explained the symbolism of these two lovely headpieces of the Ark by quoting the following from the Babylonian Talmud, Yoma 54a.

"Rabbi Katina said, 'When the Israelites would ascend [to the Holy Temple] on the festival, [the priest/kohen] would roll up the curtain for them, and display for them the cherubs, who were joined together [in an embrace].' The priest/kohen would then tell them, 'Behold the beloved feelings for you on the part of the Omnipresent are like the beloved feelings of a male for a female' "

Rabba bar Rav Shila explains that "[The cherubs appeared in the engravings] as a man joined in an embrace with his female companion"

Hold on! Hold on! So the cherubs were embraced in a sexual manner on top of the ark. Many would think that this would be the last place for such an image to appear. But no! In fact Rabbi Akiva who taught that if each of the 24 books of the Bible is holy, the Song of Songs(which deals exclusively with an erotic relationship between young lovers) is the Holy of Holies.

And Rabbi Akiva did not merely mean to say that the lover in the Song of Songs is the Almighty and the beloved is the nation Israel; after all, the sages have already taught us that no verse is to be completely detached from its literal meaning. Therefore what R. Akiva is teaching is a lofty truth: every proper and passionate love relationship between man and woman resembles the cosmic love between God and Israel. Love is a sacred feeling, marriage is a sacred union.

So what’s the message young Ittay learns from this? Well, young kids are always going to be interested in learning about sex, and frankly, I think the Torah is generally going to be the last place they look for such information. But no, perhaps the torah, if more divrei torah were explored in such a manner, should be the first place to learn about sex. Rabbi Riskin concludes:

So it is tragic when our young receive their sex education from the street or from impure movies and Internet porn. Our educators must be trained to teach about sexual relationships from our Bible, just as these teachings once emerged from the engravings of the cherubs. Parents must explain to their children not only the evils of immorality, and not only the legitimate joys of marital sex, but also the sanctity of the sexual union from the perspective of Judaism. Sex must once again be joined to love and marriage, and be seen as one of the great wonders of a fulfilled family life. And such education has to begin no later than the sixth grade!

What will bring the Israeli’s and Palestinians closer towards Peace?

You will have to believe me when I tell you that I read an excessive amount of news and opinion regarding the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. I am writing what is now my 50th entry on this blog which is devoted mostly to this issue. Absorbing the news is for me, as it is for you given that you read this blog, an endless outlet for introspection on what in means to be a Jew and a Zionist in the 20th century. Most articles you and I read about our beloved state, criticize excessively the decisions of the Ehud Olmert, or praise excessively the noble and moral IDF. Either way, both perspectives always find some way of mentioning the Holocaust, Aparthied, and general stereotypes of all Arabs as fanatical Islamists, and all Jews as the extension of the colonial arm of the great Satan, USA.

It is with this in mind, that I was pleasantly surprised to read this thoroughly sobering and pragmatic response to Jimmy Carter’s latest attack on Israel. It is penned by Bradley Burston of Haaretz.

The occupation is horrid, but it is not apartheid.

The occupation must be opposed not because it resembles apartheid, but because it is overtly destructive to both Palestinians and Israelis.

The use of the term apartheid actually contributes to one of the primary reasons why the occupation continues. It is the "Oom Shmoom" syndrome - the Israeli mindset that says "The whole world curses and mislabels us for anything we do or don't do, so we might as well go on doing what we're doing."

As it is, it is too easy for Israelis to maintain a state of denial over the occupation and its evils. It is too easy for Israelis to dismiss hyperbole, to wave away comparisons to the Nazis and other genocidal regimes.

What is needed is honest criticism of the occupation as it is. What is needed is exposure of the specific ways in which Israel's policies cause harm to the harmless, and, in the process, are bad for Israel as well.

The occupation will not end because of a thousand rockets, or ten thousand. It will not end through boycotts by publicity starved academics.

It will end by means of Israelis being exposed to and coming to terms with wrongheaded and often immoral acts committed in the name of security, acts which often harm only non-combatants. It will come through the actions of Israeli courts, of a U.S. administration actively seeking solutions, and, eventually, though the actions of courageous Israeli politicians.

It will come through diplomacy, international involvement, and a process in which mutual demonization gives way to compromise.

What is needed is an attempt to approach Israelis as human beings trying, if often failing, to deal with an impossible array of complex variables.

Human beings, not evil, bloodthirsty colonialist Zionist thugs. Human beings, not a collection of facile, mean-spirited labels.

Zionists and Israel hater’s alike, I hope you are both listening!