Friday, 12 December 2008
Thursday, 11 December 2008
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MR. OLIVEIRA
Manoel Oliveira has completed today 100 years. He certainly is the oldest film director alive. And he's still working, still developing projects. HAPPY BIRTHDAY !!!
Tuesday, 9 December 2008
Friday, 5 December 2008
LEON URIS
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Leon Marcus Uris (August 3, 1924 - June 21, 2003) was an American novelist, known for his historical fiction and the deep research that went into his novels. His two bestselling books were Exodus, published in 1958, and Trinity, in 1976
Life
Leon Uris was born in Baltimore, Maryland the son of Jewish-American parents Wolf William and Anna (Blumberg) Uris. His father, a Polish-born immigrant, was a paperhanger and then later a storekeeper. William spent a year in Palestine after World War I before entering the United States. He derived his surname from Yerushalmi, meaning "man of Jerusalem." (His brother Aron, Leon Uris' uncle, took the name Yerushalmi) "He was basically a failure," Uris later said of his father. "He went from failure to failure."
Uris attended schools in Norfolk, Virginia and Baltimore, but never graduated from high school, having failed English three times. At the age of seventeen Uris joined the United States Marine Corps. He served in the South Pacific as a radioman at Guadalcanal, Tarawa, and New Zealand from 1942 to 1945. While recuperating from malaria in San Francisco, he met Betty Beck, a female Marine sergeant. They married in 1945.
In 1950, Esquire magazine bought an article from him and this encouraged him to work on a novel. The result was the best seller Battle Cry, graphically showing the toughness and courage of U.S. Marines in the Pacific and The Angry Hills, a novel set in war-time Greece.
As a screen writer and a newspaper correspondent, he became intensely interested in Israel which led to his best-known work, Exodus, which is about Jewish history from the late 19th century through the founding of the state of Israel in 1948. Exodus was a worldwide bestseller, translated into a dozen languages, and was made into a feature film in 1960, starring Paul Newman, as well as a short-lived Broadway musical (12 previews, 19 performances) in 1971.
Later works include Mila 18, a story of the Warsaw ghetto uprising, Armageddon: A Novel of Berlin, which reveals the detailed work by British and American intelligence services in planning for the occupation and pacification of post WWII Germany, Trinity, an epic novel about Ireland's struggle for independence, QB VII, a chilling novel about the role of a Polish doctor in a German concentration camp, and The Haj, with insights into the history of the Middle East and the secret machinations of foreigners which have led to today's turmoil.
Uris was married three times. First with Betty Beck in 1945, with whom he had three children, and divorced in 1968, then with Margery Edwards in 1969, who died of an apparent suicide a year later, and finally with Jill Peabody in 1970, with whom he had two children, and divorced in 1989. They remained friends.
Trivia
In some of his books a likeable character is associated with the number 359195: for example, Danny Forrester's (Battle Cry) and Clinton Loveless' (Armageddon: A Novel of Berlin) service numbers and the number tattooed onto Dov Landau's (Exodus) forearm as his registration number in Auschwitz.
He was born on the day on which Joseph Conrad died. Both writers had strong Polish connections.
He was known for his long epic novels. In one episode of The Simpsons, Cletus uses one of his books to crack open the shell of a turtle, saying "Nothing cracks a turtle like Leon Uris".
Selected titles
Battle Cry, 1953
The Angry Hills, 1955
Exodus, 1958
Exodus Revisited, 1960 (GB title: In the Steps of Exodus)
Mila 18, 1961
Armageddon: A Novel of Berlin, 1963
Topaz, 1967
The Third Temple (with Strike Zion by William Stevenson), 1967
QB VII, 1970
Ireland, A Terrible Beauty, 1975 (with Jill Uris)
Trinity, 1976
Jerusalem: A Song of Songs, 1981 (with Jill Uris)
The Haj, 1984
Mitla Pass, 1988
Redemption, 1995
A God in Ruins, 1999
O'Hara's Choice, 2003
See also
References
1^ "Author Leon Uris Dies at 78" The Elyria (Ohio) Chronicle Telegram, June 25, 2003, page A8.
2^ Leon Uris Biography at nytimes.com
External links
Inventory of Leon Uris novel and screenplay manuscripts and other documents
Exodus1947.com PBS Documentary Film focusing on the secret American involvement in real life Exodus, narrated by Morley Safer
Battle Cry (1953) ♦ The Angry Hills (1955) ♦ Exodus (1958) ♦ Mila 18 (1961) ♦ Armageddon: A Novel of Berlin (1963) ♦ Topaz (1967) ♦ QB VII (1970) ♦ Trinity (1976) ♦ The Haj (1984) ♦ Mitla Pass (1988) ♦ Redemption (1995) ♦ A God in Ruins (1999) ♦ O'Hara's Choice (2003)
INTELLIGENCE BRIEFS
December 4, 2008
Exclusive: CRC Open-Source Intelligence Briefs
Maj. W. Thomas Smith Jr., Director of the Counterterrorism Research Center
MUMBAI, INDIA: According to a piece by Robert Spencer in Human Events, the recent terrorist attacks in Mumbai reaffirmed not only India’s “unpreparedness” in terms of effectively confronting – much less thwarting – Jihadist terrorism, but America and the broader West’s inability to even understand “Jihad.”
Spencer writes: “The primary reason for this unpreparedness, of course, is the unwillingness or inability of government, law enforcement, and the mainstream media to confront the ideology of the jihadists and the Islamic doctrines that provide the foundation for that ideology. … ‘We have yet to see a distinguished popular condemnation in the traditional Arab or Muslim communities that strongly rejects what is happening in the name of Islam.’ So wrote the Kuwaiti columnist Khaled al-Jenfawi.”
SOMALIA: As I’ve often said, pirates on the high seas prefer targeting freighters more so than cruise ships for a variety of reasons, not the least of which are:
Cruise ships are considered more difficult to board than freightersToo many passengers to control aboard cruise shipsImproved counterpiracy and counterterrorism technologies employed by luxury liners since 2005Better trained shipboard security forces
Pirates are also considered to be territorial creatures, rarely striking targets beyond 200 nautical miles from the pirates’ coastal bases.
Both beliefs however were turned on their heads recently when pirates attacked a cruise ship this week, and in mid-November struck a freighter some 450 miles off the coast of Kenya (but “almost a thousand miles from their home ports,” according to Africa expert Dr. J. Peter Pham in a telephone call last week.)
Also – despite widely held beliefs about the relationship between pirates and Islamist terrorists – experts are pointing to credible intelligence indicating increased collaboration between pirates and Islamists (details here and here).
LEBANON: U.S. Army Gen. David Petraeus, CENTCOM commander, met this week with Lebanese Prime Minister Fouad Siniora and Lt. Gen. Jean Kahwaji, commander-in-chief of Lebanon’s armed forces.
According to the U.S. Embassy in Beirut: “The discussions focused on the United States’ continued assistance to the Lebanese Armed Forces so it can maintain peace and stability, and safeguard the Lebanese people. The U.S. Government has provided over $410 million in military aid to the Lebanese Armed Forces and it will continue to support the legitimate institutions of the Lebanese government and the Lebanese people as they seek to preserve their independence and security.”
Meanwhile, the Lebanese leadership continues to bow to the will of Iran, Syria, and Hizballah (details here, here, here, here, and here).
— Visit W. Thomas Smith Jr. at uswriter.com.
taken from B'NAI ELIM (http://bnaielim.blogspot.com/)
Thursday, 4 December 2008
UNIVERSAL TORAH: VAYEITZEI
Torah reading: Gen. 28:10-32:3. Haftara: Hosea 12.13-14.10 (Optional addition: Micah 7.18) (Sephardi ritual: Hosea 11.7-12.12).
"AND JACOB WENT OUT FROM BE'ER SHEVA"
Last weeks parshah, TOLDOS, completed the story of Isaac, which concluded with Isaac's giving the blessings to Jacob and sending him away from home to find his wife. In our present parshah of VAYEITZEI, Jacob, the "perfect" or "compete" patriarch (since he incorporated the best of both Abraham and Isaac) now takes center stage, and the story of his life and that of his twelve sons occupies the remainder of the book of Genesis.
Jacob's departure from his parental home into exile in Padan Aram and his return from there with a complete family and laden with wealth are paradigmatic for the subsequent history of Jacob's descendants, Israel and the Jewish people. Historically the Israelites were repeatedly forced to leave the ancestral Land of Israel, yet always returned in increased numbers, together with the wealth acquired in exile: the souls of the proselytes and actual material wealth.
* * *
"AND HE CAME TO THE PLACE"
While Jacob's journey of exile to Padan Aram is paradigmatic of all later Jewish exile, his detour on the way there to "THE PLACE" (Gen. 28:11) -- Mount Moriah, "THE PLACE that G-d said to Abraham" (Gen. 22:9), that same FIELD where Isaac went to pray -- is paradigmatic of the GIVING OF THE TORAH. Thus the numerical value of the Hebrew letters of SuLaM, the "ladder" of Jacob's dream (Samech 60, Lamed 30, Mem 40) = 130 = SINaI, where the Torah was given (Samech 60, Yud 10, Nun 50, Yud 10). The Torah itself was given "in exile", in the wilderness. The dream of the ladder and Jacob's actions in response to G-d's promise of protection -- his laying the Temple foundation and his vow to tithe all he acquires for G-d -- are Torah. They are the very essence of the Torah, the GIVING OF THE TORAH for all Jacob's descendants. Jacob's eventual return to this PLACE where he "received the Torah" (see next week's parshah, Gen. ch. 35) is paradigmatic of the return of the Jewish people after exile to build the Holy Temple. The Temple and the Giving of the Torah are one concept.
The PLACE that Jacob "hit" (like you hit a target with an arrow or with a prayer) while on his way to Padan Aram was none other than the spot from which Adam was created: the place destined to bring atonement to all the Children of Adam in all generations through the sacrifical altar that is to stand there in the House of Prayer for all the Nations. This was the place where Noah sacrificed after the flood and this was where Abraham bound Isaac on the Altar. This was the field to which Isaac would return to pray. This place is alluded to in the opening word of the Torah, BeRAiSHIS, the Hebrew letters of which can be rearranged to form the words BAYIS ROSH, "the House that is the Head". As discussed in connection with the parshiyos of the last two weeks, Abraham had conceived of this place as a lofty -- and almost daunting -- MOUNTAIN of spiritual achievement. Isaac had brought the idea nearer to ordinary people by conceiving of it as a FIELD of regular endeavor. It was the innovation of Jacob, the "perfect patriarch", to bring the idea within reach of everyone (for fields, in which Jacob was expert, are still not accessible to everyone): Jacob conceived of the place as a HOUSE. "This is none other than the HOUSE of God" (Genesis 28:17; see Likutey Moharan I, 10).
In the words of the Talmud (Pesachim 88a): Said Rabbi Elazar: What does Isaiah mean when he says, "And many peoples will go and say, 'Come let us go up to the Mountain of G-d to the HOUSE of the G-d of Jacob!'" ? Why the G-d of Jacob and not the G-d of Abraham and Isaac? The answer is: Not like Abraham, who saw it as a Mountain ("as it is said this day, On the Mountain HaVaYaH is seen" -- Genesis 22:14). And not like Isaac, for whom it was a Field ("And Isaac went out to meditate in the Field" -- Genesis 24:63). But like Jacob, who called it a House: "And he called the name of that place Beth El, the House of G-d" (Genesis 28:19).
This passage comes to teach that at the consummation of human history, when "many peoples will go" in search of G-d's truth, the idea through which G-d will be understood by the peoples will be Jacob's idea: the idea of the House -- the Holy Temple. The conception of the Temple as a House brings the idea of devotion to G-d right into the house and home. The Temple is the epitome of all houses. Thus it has a kitchen (the AZARA or central courtyard) and oven (the Altar), a "living room" (the Sanctuary), with its "lamp" (the Menorah) and table (the Showbread Table), and a "bedroom", the Holy of Holies, place of the ZIVUG of the Holy One and the Shechinah (Divine Presence).
The Temple is the universal paradigm of what all of our homes should be, a place for the dwelling of the Divine Presence. At the very center of the Temple vision is the "ladder" that has angels "ascending and descending" on it. This is the ladder of devotion. Our prayers, blessings and simple, everyday "homely" mitzvos and acts of devotion send "angels" ASCENDING upwards to realms that are beyond our comprehension. The ascending angels in turn elicit angels of blessing who DESCEND into this world and into our very lives (such as the angels who accompany us from the synagogue to the home on Shabbos night and who, on seeing that we have made everything ready for Shabbos, bless our table, which is like the Temple altar.) The vow Jacob made upon inaugurating the House of G-d is the paradigm of all the different "vows" or commitments we make involving some kind of self-restraint and sacrifice in order to elevate ourselves spiritually and elicit G-d's protection. These acts of self-sacrifice send up ascending angels, drawing down descending angels of blessing. The foundation of devotion is our COMMITMENT (but without actual vows).
* * *
ENCOUNTER WITH THE WORLD OF OLD
Given that Jacob conceived of divine service using the metaphor of the HOUSE, it is fitting that the central focus of the story of his life is on how he built his house, namely the household of wives and children who made up the House of Jacob, and how he faced all their subsequent domestic problems -- the kidnap of Dinah, the quarrels and hatred among the twelve brothers, the sale of Joseph and all that followed from it.
The building of Jacob's House could be accomplished only through struggles of many kinds -- for truth, Jacob's quality, is born out of struggle on all levels, material and spiritual. In order to build his House, Jacob had to struggle with two major antagonists: Esau and Laban. Esau embodies the threat to the Holy House from the forces of excess and evil in the material world, ASIYAH. The encounter with Esau is a central theme in next week's parshah: VAYISHLACH. In this week's parshah of VAYEITZEI, the focus is on Jacob's encounter with Laban, whose threat to the Holy House is from the forces of excess in the spiritual worlds. Thus while Esau is portrayed as a HUNTER-WARRIOR, Laban is portrayed as a PRIEST (Rashi on Gen. 24:21, Gen. 31:30ff).
To build his House, Jacob had to rescue the sparks of holiness that were still to be find in the land of the Sons of the East (Gen. 29:19), literally the "Sons of OLD". These sparks of holiness were embodied in Rachel and Leah and their handmaidens, who were to mother the Souls of Israel. In order to rescue them, Jacob had to struggle with Laban, the High Priest of the "Old World", the unrectified World of TOHU (confusion) created by G-d to spawn the realm of evil with which man has to struggle in order to attain his destiny. Laban was the father of Be'or who was the father of Bilaam, also called Bela. Bela the son of Be'or is the first of the Seven Kings of Edom who ruled "before there was a king in Israel" (Gen. 36:31 ff.). These "Seven Kings" allude to the seven sefiros in their "fallen" manifestation as a result of the "breaking of the vessels". Kabbalistically, Bela corresponds to DAAS of the SITRA ACHRA, the evil consciousness that is the opposite of G-dly knowledge and awareness, the root of all the other sefiros. The ARI states that Bilaam-Bela was the incarnation of Laban, who is the very brain of the realm of evil, as indicated by his name, which consists of the letters Lamed (30) Beis (2) corresponding to the 32 Pathways of Wisdom, and Nun (50), corresponding to the 50 Gates of Understanding. Jacob's conflict with Laban continued in Moses fight against Bilaam and his pernicious spiritual influence.
Laban is the arch swindler and deceiver, symbolizing the force in creation that conceals G-dliness through our querks of false-consciousness that make evil seem like good and good seem like evil. Laban TRANSLATES one thing into another (we find an example of Laban as a translator in Gen. 31:47), distorting the entire meaning in the process. Time and time again, it turns out that Laban actually means something entirely different from what he appears on the surface to be saying. White-appearing Laban (Lavan in Hebrew = "white") is actually filthy black.
Since the devotions of Jacob (the Children of Israel) are accomplished by using the homely objects of this world to create the House of G-d through which the Divine Presence may dwell in the world, it is essential to cleanse the world of the mental distortions (the deceptions of idolatrous Laban) that could undermine the entire message of the Holy House.
Each one of us has the personal work of using Jacob's honesty to cleanse ourselves of the inner Labans that have us working for years chasing after phantoms, only to find ourselves sadly deceived...
* * *
THE WORK ETHIC
Jacob followed the example of Abraham's servant Eliezer (Gen. 24:11) in going to the WELL in order to find his ZIVUG (soul-mate). As father of the people who were to bring the spiritual waters of Torah to all mankind, Jacob expected to find the appropriate soul-mate at the place of the "water-drawers". There Jacob saw his first love, Rachel, whose beauty was visible also on the exterior, as opposed to Leah, whose spiritual greatness was more concealed. The swindle by which Laban motivated Jacob to work for seven years for Rachel but actually gave him Leah, forcing him to work another seven years to get Rachel too, was a harsh lesson in how life may give us what we didn't bank on.
The implicit message in Jacob's deals with Laban, whereby Jacob worked for everything he gained -- his wives, his children and his flocks -- is that honest work is good, even when swindlers lurk. The heavens and earth were made "to do" (Gen. 2:3). "For six days, work shall be done..." (Exodus 35:2): Work is a good thing! Jacob had received rich blessings from Isaac, but that did not mean he had what he gained through sitting back and doing nothing. It was his very conscientiousness in working to earn the promised good that made him deserve the blessings.
The repeated seven-fold cycles in our parshah (seven years of work for Rachel and Leah, the seven days of the marriage celebrations) are bound up with the underlying six-day/Shabbos cycle of creation which comes to rectify the seven fallen sefiros of the world of TOHU spawned by Bilaam-Laban. The holy sparks rescued by Jacob through his "work" -- Rachel, Leah, the handmaidens, their children, and the "flocks", namely the holy souls -- are all reordered in the world of TIKUN (Rectification, the sefiros in their holy manifestation) in the House of Jacob. Here Jacob (corresponding to Zeir Anpin, the unity of G-d) is joined and unified with his wives, Rachel (the revealed world) and Leah (the concealed world).
Jacob's main work and that of his wives was that of BREEDING -- the breeding of children and the breeding of "flocks". This comes to emphasize the centrality of family, education and good breeding in true civilization. The House about which Jacob's Temple comes to teach is not a far-off concept. It is the actual house and home in which we live, where our work must be to educate ourselves and our children to see and manifest G-d in our mundane, everyday activities.
Jacob is the archetype of the faithful employee. He starts off with nothing (according to the Midrash, Jacob was stripped of all his possessions by Esau's son Eliphaz as he set off for Padan Aram). He works conscientiously to benefit and enrich his employer, with scrupulous honesty and devotedness (as expressed in Jacob's eloquent self-defense Gen. 31:38 ff.). Jacob is pitted against a slick liar who keeps on changing the terms of agreements, who sells his own daughters, who watches his nephew work for his wives, children and flocks for 20 years and still says, "They are all mine...."
The practical teaching about the work ethic that emerges from this section of our parshah telling of Jacob's way of working applies to all mankind. It is an important aspect of the universal law against stealing:
"Just as the employer is cautioned not to steal or withhold the wages of the poor man, so the poor man (the employee) is cautioned not to steal the work of the employer by wasting a little time here and a little there so that he spends the entire day cheating his employer. The worker is obliged to be strict with himself in the time he devotes to his employer's work... and he is obliged to work with all his strength. For the righteous Jacob said 'For WITH ALL MY STRENGTH I worked for your father...'. And therefore he took the reward for this even in this world..." (Rambam, Laws of Hiring 13:7)
Those who are inclined to pass the working hours drinking tea and coffee, chatting, making irrelevant phone calls, etc. should take note.
Shabbat Shalom!
Avraham Yehushua Greenbaum
Wednesday, 3 December 2008
THE ODYSSEY OF THE PORTUGUESE JEWS
The cultural session, entitled "The Odyssey of the Portuguese Jews," held on Sunday, February 21 , 1999, was a great success. The event took place in the main amphiteater of the new building of the Faculty of Economics of the Roger Williams University, in Bristol, Rhode Island. Even before the scheduled time, the hall was full of people including the aisles. The subject matter that was going to be dealt with, had awakened great interest among the cultural élite of New England, so much so that the audience was composed of individuals who came from various localities in Rhode Island, as well as from neighbouring states: Massachusettes, Connecticut, New Hampshire and even New York. Various groups had no choice than to return to their homes because there was no more space in the amphiteater.
NAMES OF PORTUGAL
PORTUGUESE JEWS
INQUISITION
EXPULSION OF THE JEWS
MONTICELLO
STATUE OF LIBERTY
CRISTOVÃO COLON
Within two weeks we have already four requests to repeat the same cultural program.
"The New Colossus"
Poem by Emma Lazarus
was inscribed on a tablet in the pedestal in 1903.
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset, gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning , and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-side welcome; her mild eyes command.
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
with silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor
BE ARMED AND TRAINED
David Ignatius at the Washington Post talks about the technicalities of the attack on Mumbai, and admits it would be hard to stop a similar attack elsewhere.
taken from Yaacov Lozowick's Ruminations (http://yaacovlozowick.blogspot.com/)
DO YOU WANT TO SIT AROUND WAITING FOR PEACE?
Forget Waiting for Peace.
Tuesday, 2 December 2008
LETTER FROM BELMONTE
The Flame Of 26,000 Sabbaths
By Alan M. Tigay
In the mountains of northern Portugal a community of Crypto-Jews has reembraced Judaism after 500 years. But as they study the faith of their ancestors it’s not clear if they have more to learn or more to teach a Jewish world that is fascinated by their journey.
Friday night dinner in the synagogue, and the room is packed. Just a few years after emerging from the 500-year tunnel of secret observance, the Jews of Belmonte, Portugal, are engaged in what has become a fairly regular occurrence—hosting Jewish tourists from the United States. “This is the twelfth group we’ve had,” says Fernando Vaz, the community’s president.
About a dozen locals are dining with the Elderhostel party of some 35, and I am seated next to Vaz. Shortly after hamotzi he leans over and asks me, just above a whisper, “Are all the people in this group Jewish?”
When I tell him that they are, he asks with genuine puzzlement, “Then why are they traveling tomorrow morning instead of staying for Shabbat?”
The intimate way he puts the question signals that after struggling for several days to get people in the community to open up, I have gained a measure of trust. My pre-trip research had made one point clear—after five centuries, secrecy had become not only a survival tactic for Belmonte’s Jews, but an integral part of Judaism as they knew it. Even though their Jewishness is now proudly in the open, most of the town’s 180 Jews are still naturally reserved.
Another lesson in Vaz’s question is the community’s simplicity, its focused faith and tenacity. He seemed to be asking why, if he and his neighbors had sacrificed for so long to be able to fulfill the mitzva of Shabbat, would Jews who are totally free discard their observance? I had read everything I could find about Belmonte. All that remained was to talk to the people and let them tell their story. But when I first set foot in the synagogue, the comment I heard repeatedly when I introduced myself was, “People here won’t want to talk.” They will open up, I discovered, but the hurdle of confidence is high.
Breaking the ice is often a matter of a single contact. When I tell Francisco Diogo Rodrigo that I met his son at the synagogue in Lisbon a few days before, one of the first things he asks is, “Where are you eating lunch?” At a round table in his tiny living room, the amount of food competes with the number of Jewish books and objects he shows me—a siddur, a Haggada, the Five Books of Moses, a history of Belmonte, Passover products—most of which he has acquired over the past few years.
“The Jews here had a flame that never went out,” says Rodrigo, 56, “even though we passed through periods of great difficulty.” The flame he speaks of is both figurative and literal. When the subject turns to Shabbat his wife, Benvinda, brings out a candeia, a tin lamp, fueled with pure olive oil and lit with a long-burning twisted linen wick. It was the candeias that illuminated the homes of Belmonte’s Jews for 26,000 secret Shabbatot.
No one is sure when Jews first came to Belmonte, a town of 7,500 less than 30 miles from the Spanish frontier. The foundation stone of a synagogue dated 1297 proves the existence of a community before the expulsion from Spain. Two factors swelled the community’s numbers. Many Jews from Spain crossed the border and stayed in the first towns they reached. Later, many from Portugal’s main cities fled to the mountains around Belmonte and to the north to be as far as possible from the Inquisition.
Towns in the northeast filled with Jews. In Covilhã, just south of Belmonte, the Jewish “census” was uma casa sim, uma casa não (one house yes, one house no)—that is, 50 percent.
The Inquisition waned at the end of the eighteenth century and was abolished in 1821. When the Polish engineer Samuel Schwartz discovered the crypto-Jews in 1917, he estimated there were 10,000 Jewish families in the north.
He recognized them, but they didn’t recognize him. “The people here didn’t believe Samuel Schwartz was Jewish,” related Fernando Vaz, “But when he recited the shema and said the word ‘A-donai’ the women covered their eyes and said, ‘He is one of us.”
“A-donai” is the only Hebrew word Belmonte’s Jews kept, but they still preserved a great deal. Jewish lore is filled with people lighting candles on Friday nights without knowing why. Belmonte is the only place where secret Jews maintained many practices—Shabbat, Yom Kippur, Passover, the Fast of Esther, elements of kashrut and numerous prayers—and also their significance. And unlike virtually every other story of secret Jews, they came all the way back.
What they came back from is a story in itself. Egalitarian Judaism, it seems, came first to Belmonte, where Jewish practice was carried by women who said the prayers and passed them on to daughters and granddaughters. When the community adopted Orthodox Judaism, ritual leadership passed to the men. As the teachings of the rabbis took precedence, the old orações (prayers), despite richness and clear Jewish provenance, were consigned to the past.
Many close to the community bemoan the demise of the orações, and it’s hard to look at the history and not conclude that it’s a shame. One, a Belmonte Jew now living in Lisbon, told me he is sure some of the older women still recite the old prayers at home. “There used to be Crypto-Jews,” he says. “Now there are Crypto-Marranos.”
But if the women have strong feelings about their positions being usurped by men they show little resentment. “When I was a girl I learned the prayers with my mother and grandmother,” recalls Ana Morão, 64, a short, pretty woman with gray hair. “The families would gather in a house and the women’s job was to lead the prayers.” She says the orações are still in her heart—her eyes fill with tears when she talks about them—but she has no regrets about the direction Jewish practice has taken. “The arrival of the rabbis and the building of the synagogue were marvelous things, and the future will only be better,” she asserts. I hear similar comments from virtually every woman I speak to. What dissent I do hear is mixed with pride. “Of course I still say the old prayers,” says a woman who freely gives me her name but asks that it not be used in print. “The rabbis didn’t teach us anything. We taught them.”
“They came to open our eyes but our eyes were more open than theirs,” the woman adds, raising her eyelids like a Kabuki actor. But she also expresses great satisfaction that her son now prays in Hebrew and she says the building of the synagogue was the greatest thing that ever happened in Belmonte. “You know it’s the most beautiful synagogue in the world,” she says. When I suggest she might be prejudiced she looks at me as if I am a recalcitrant child. “No,” she asserts, “it really is the most beautiful.”
As I speak to women I imagine ultimately they will have it both ways. Some day a generation fully confident of its Jewishness will realize what the orações represented and will revive them. Or they might pick up a siddur from abroad and find their grandmothers’ words. “They are losing prayers that not only should be kept in their prayer books, but should be translated and put into ours,” says Schulamith Halevy, a Jerusalem poet who is close to the community and an advocate for anousim, as the descendants of forced converts are known in Hebrew.
History seems logical in hindsight, but like the rebirth of Israel the return of Belmonte’s Jews was not inevitable. It was more than 70 years from their “discovery” by Schwartz to the decision to embrace Judaism officially and openly. “I never imagined everything would change,” says Morão. “But my husband and I went through the conversion, got married again and now we go to synagogue on Shabbat.”
Like the events that drove Jews into secrecy, the return was spurred by events around them. From the 1920’s to the 1970’s, Portugal was ruled by a conservative dictatorship, desperately trying to hold on to its empire and past glory. It was an atmosphere in which change was not valued highly.
The revolution in thought flowed from the political revolution that restored democracy in 1974. “I was doing my military service when the idea of return started to advance,” says Fernando Vaz, now 39. “People of my generation began to develop new ideas, and we were supported by the older people.” The Jewish community in Lisbon—founded by Jews who arrived from Gibraltar after the Inquisition was abolished—offered more assistance. The first full-time rabbi came in 1990 and oversaw the conversion of 180 people, circumcision of men as old as 79 and the Jewish remarriage of dozens of couples. The synagogue was dedicated in 1996.
I ask everyone why Judaism survived in Belmonte and virtually nowhere else (there are many people in Portugal with knowledge of Jewish ancestry and some with vestiges of Jewish practice, but there is no parallel to the return of an entire community). “What allowed us to survive was that for all these years marriages were always arranged between Jews,” says Elias Nunes, a former president of the community and one of the prime instigators of the return.
Other than purity of Jewish descent, many agree that Jewish survival in Belmonte was aided by an absence of persecution. “The Inquisition never came here” is heard over and over. On another night in the synagogue dining hall I sit at a table with several members of the community and guests, including two historians. When someone asks what I have learned I mention Belmonte’s reputation for tolerance and Maria Antonieta Garcia, who has written extensively about the community, says it is a myth. “The Inquisition may not have been as strong here,” she says, “but it definitely came to Belmonte and the cases are documented.” Garcia, who also has Jewish roots, goes into a learned account of the Inquisition and the sociological explanations for survival. There are other guests present, including tourism officials, who listen attentively, but I notice the local Jews at the table tune out during her remarks.
The Jews of Belmonte are not intellectuals; most of the youngsters go into the family business and not to university. They survived as Jews not out of study but out of faith. One of the town’s indelible images is a love of Judaism that is impossible to describe. I’ve never seen such passion in the kissing of a mezuza—touching one’s head, heart and lips in a sweeping gesture—or in the way women throw kisses from the balcony as the Torah is carried around below them. As Antonio Henriques Vaz kisses his 20-year-old son Miguel after leading the service (the congregation has been without a rabbi for almost a year and is trying to raise the money to hire a new one) I imagine not only a father’s pride but 500 years of pent-up pride representing fathers who never had the experience.
Now that they are again an integral part of the Jewish people, I’m not sure Belmonte’s Jews have decided how to relate to the rest of us. Fernando Vaz’s question about Sabbath observance shows one more thing—once they reentered the fold they inevitably took sides. They want to know the Jewish world but there is an undercurrent of fear that too much exposure will jeopardize the heritage they kept.
Inácio Steinhardt, a Portuguese-born journalist who has been in Israel for 25 years, has known the community since the 1960’s. A few years ago the Jewish Agency asked him to spend a day with a group from Belmonte visiting Israel for the first time. Two weeks after leaving Belmonte I am with Steinhardt in a Tel Aviv café and he tells me the story. “My acquaintance with the people gave me the feeling that they would be shocked to meet the secular Israel,” he says. “So I insisted that I meet them at the airport and that my day with them should be their first day in the country.”
Belmonte’s Jews have much to teach us and show us—not just what we lost 500 years ago but things of such recent memory that we can almost touch them in our collective memory. Though everyone has a telephone and a few are already wired to the Internet, visits are mostly arranged by knocking on doors. On the day I went looking for Elias Nunes, neighbors pointed me to his house where his wife said he would be home shortly. Less than five minutes later he was walking up the cobblestone street. It was a scene repeated time after time. People are always home, or near home. On Shabbat, even the infirm take to the streets and stairways that crisscross their neighborhood to walk to synagogue. The area around the town’s old Jewish quarter is probably the only thriving shtetl I’ll ever see.
Perhaps I shouldn’t have gone with questions at all. The story is not for the Jews of Belmonte to tell but to live. The miracle is found not in their sound bites but in their existence. And perhaps more important than trying to probe the spiritual dimensions to figure out how they survived I should ask why we are so fascinated by them. In them we see evidence that even if our faith and our religious commitment wither, our grandchildren might still recapture it. There may have been concern in the question Fernando Vaz put to me on Friday night, but there was hope in the eyes of the visitors around him.
BELMONTE JEWS
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Only recently[when?] did they contact other Jews and they now claim to profess Orthodox Judaism, although they still retain their centuries-old traditions.
Monday, 1 December 2008
JEWISH HOSTAGES TORTURED BEFORE BEING MURDERED
THE REBBE WHO SAVED A VILLAGE
The Rebbe Who Saved a Village
For a while, it seemed that all was lost... then came a leader's bold response to the crippling tragedy
Editor's note: In light of the recent tragedy which struck the Chabad-Lubavitch community, we find the following account, penned more than fifty years ago, particularly poignant--and most relevant.What follows is a free translation of a story that appeared in the Israeli newspaper Yediot Achronot on Iyar 4, 5717 (May 5, 1957). We have left the article basically as it was originally published despite the fact that it contains some factual inaccuracies, because of its vivid portrayal of the mood of the time and the Israeli reporter's impression of the people and the events he describes.
on Mount Herzl in Jerusalem, the lights were burning also in Tzafrir (Kfar Chabad), the Chabad-Lubavitcher village in the Lod Valley.For four days the village had been in deep mourning and grievous anguish, the likes of which the Lubavitcher chassidim had not known in many years. On that black and bitter night, a band of fedayeen entered the village. They made their way to the synagogue of the local agricultural school, where the school's young students were in the midst of the evening maariv prayers, and raked the room with fire from their Karl-Gustav rifles. They reaped a cruel blood-harvest: five children and one teacher were killed and another ten children wounded; their pure, holy blood soaking the siddurim that fell from their hands and splattering the synagogue's white-washed walls.
The village chassidim, brawny, broad-shouldered Russian Jews with thick black beards and bushy brows, stood dumbfounded before the terrible scene that met their eyes. A pogrom in Israel! A pogrom in Chabad! they whispered, and bit their lips in rage. The women stood there too, hefty, handsome Russian matrons, wringing their hands and murmuring to themselves in Russian and Hebrew, their eyes emitting an endless stream of tears.
This was not a common scene for the Lubavitchers. These Chassidim, who had survived the pogroms in Czar Nikolai's Russia and whom the Red Army could not intimidate, who had been banished to the frozen plains of Siberia, whose backs decades in Stalin's prisons and camps could not bow, now stood stooped and despairing. Now, that the blow had hit home in the heart of the Jewish state.
In the center of the village stood Rabbi Avraham Maayor who had been a high-ranking officer in the Russian Army. Avraham Maayor, of whom legend told that he calmly stood and sang chassidic melodies as a band of soldiers beat him with the butts of their rifles, now stood crying out at the heavens: "Master of the Universe, Why?! How have the children sinned?!"
Despair and dejection pervaded the village, and began to eat away at its foundations. There were some who saw what happened as a sign that their dream of a peaceful life in the Holy Land was premature. Perhaps we should disband, seek refuge in safer havens? The village was slowly dying.
The Village Waits But it was clear to all that before any decisive move would be made, the Rebbe had to be consulted. Nothing would be done without his knowledge and consent. All awaited the telegram from "there," from New York, but the telegram was inexplicably not forthcoming. Four days had passed since the terror had struck. A lengthy telegram had immediately been dispatched informing the Rebbe of all the details of the tragedy, and an answer was expected that very night. But the Rebbe was silent. What happened, many wondered, why doesn't he respond? Has he not a word of comfort for his stricken followers?
A telegram from the Rebbe, it should be clarified, is an integral part of Chabad-Chassidic life across the globe. Every problem, every decision pertaining to the communal or private life of the Lubavitcher chassid is referred to the Rebbe's headquarters in Brooklyn, and whatever the reply, that is what is done. And the answer is always forthcoming, whether by regular post, express mail, or emergency telegram-depending upon the urgency of the matter-and always short, succinct, and to the point.
Why, then, is the Rebbe's answer on such a fateful matter tarrying? The village elders had no explanation, and, as the hours and days went by, the question continued to plague their tormented souls, and their anguish and despair weighed increasingly heavier on their hearts.
The Telegram And then, four days after the tragedy, the telegram arrived. The news spread throughout the village: A telegram from the Rebbe! The telegram has arrived! The entire village, men, women and children, assembled in the village square to hear the Rebbe's reply.
And the Rebbe was characteristically succinct. The telegram contained a single sentence-three Hebrew words-but these three words sufficed to save the village from disintegration and its inhabitants from despair. Behemshech habinyan tinacheimu, wrote the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson. "By your continued building will you be comforted."
The Chassidim of Kfar Chabad now had a firm grasp on their future: they knew what they had to do. They must build! The Rebbe said to build! And that by their continued building they will be comforted! That very night the village elders held a meeting to discuss how the Rebbe's directive might be implemented. After a short discussion, a decision was reached: a vocational school will be built where children from disadvantaged backgrounds will be taught the printing trade. On the very spot where the blood was spilled, the building will be raised.
The Rebbe Knew The next morning, all residents of the village gathered at the empty lot adjoining the agricultural school and began clearing and leveling the land in preparation for the building. The joy was back in their eyes.
In the weeks that followed, letters arriving from relatives and friends in New York described what had transpired there in those four endless days in which the village had awaited the Rebbe's reply.
For the entire month of Nissan, the month of the redemption, it is the Rebbe's custom to devote himself entirely to the service of the Creator, reducing his contact with his Chassidim to a minimum. Rare is the individual who is granted an audience with the Rebbe in this period, and all but the most urgent correspondence is postponed until the close of the auspicious month.
When the month of Nissan ends, a festive farbrengen (Chassidic gathering) is held at the Rebbe's headquarters on Eastern Parkway in Brooklyn, marking the Rebbe's resumption of his involvement with his thousands of followers across the globe. The Rebbe speaks for hours, his talks interspersed with bouts of song and l'chaims, often until the wee hours of the morning.
That year, the farbrengen marking the close of Nissan was also held. The tragic news from the Holy Land had arrived in New York moments before the farbrengen was scheduled to begin, but the Rebbe's secretaries decided to withhold the news from him until after the gathering. But what his assistants did not tell him, his heart seems to have told him. That night, the Rebbe spoke of Jewish self-sacrifice and martyrdom al kiddush Hashem (for the sanctification of G-d's name), about the rebuilding of the Holy Land, and the redemption of Israel. Tears flowed from his eyes as he spoke. All night he spoke and wept, sang and wept, and wept still more.
Why is the Rebbe weeping? Only a few of those present could guess-those who knew about the telegram from Kfar Chabad.
The farbrengen ended. The chassidim dispersed to their homes, and the Rebbe retired to his room. With great trepidation, two of the Rebbe's closest chassidim knocked on the Rebbe's door and handed him the telegram from Israel. The Rebbe sank into his chair. He locked his door and did not open it for three days. After three days of utter seclusion, he called his secretary and dictated his reply: Behemshech habinyan tinacheimu. By your continued building you will be comforted.
The chassidim of Kfar Chabad have fulfilled their Rebbe's request. Without the aid of philanthropists or foundations, they have raised 50,000 Israeli pounds, and today, one year after the tragedy, the new building of the vocational school is completed.
Tomorrow, as the citizens of Israel celebrate their eighth Independence Day, the chassidim of Kfar Chabad will hold a farbrengen and relate, again and again, the story of the three-word telegram that saved the village.


