This past August 6th, I wrote about Dr. Menachem Stern, the highly regarded scholar of ancient Judaism and winner of the Israel Prize, who was murdered in Sacher Park in Jerusalem in 1989. The occasion for my writing about him was the news that Israel had agreed to release his assailants (who had been apprehended, tried and convicted about twenty years ago) as part of a "confidence-building gesture" in conjunction with negotiations with the Palestinian Authority. (Click here to read the blogpost.)
Now, almost five months later, as 2013 is drawing to a close, the newspapers have just reported that the perpetrators of the murder of Dr. Menachem Stern are indeed due to be released with twenty-four hours. (Click here to read The Times of Israel report.)
I will simply repeat what I wrote several months ago: this is a very, very difficult time for Israel. Whether this gesture will bring peace between Palestinians and Israelis remains to be seen. In the meantime, there will be rejoicing in the Palestinian territories and quiet grieving in Israel.
Click on the image to visit Temple Aliyah's website.
Monday, December 30, 2013
Monday, December 23, 2013
What’s a Jew to do on Christmas Eve?
What’s a Jew to do on Christmas Eve?
Three years ago, at the confirmation hearings examining her
fitness to serve as a Supreme Court Justice, Elena Kagan was asked some tough
questions. One that initially flustered
her was, “Where were you at on Christmas?”
She finally responded, “You know, like all Jews, I was probably in a
Chinese restaurant.”
For the benefit of those who had no idea what Ms. Kagan was
talking about, her sponsor, Senator Schumer explained, “No other restaurants are open.” (The
answer apparently satisfied her interlocutor, Senator Lindsey Graham, who
responded, “Great answer.”)
You can check out the Youtube video of the exchange right here:
Many Jews have long wondered where they should go and what
they should do on Christmas.
Long before Jews began going to Chinese restaurants—indeed, long
before Jews came to this country, Jews would stay home on Christmas Eve. It was considered dangerous to be up and about. The reason is simple: as on other Christian holidays such as Good
Friday, Christmas Eve was a time for pogroms.
By the way, Jews didn’t call it “Christmas Eve,” they called
it “Nitl Nacht.” (“Nitl” is a Yiddish
word meaning, “natal” or “nativity,” and “nacht” means “night” or “evening.”)
Jews began to adopt practices on Nitl Nacht that allowed
them to express their resentment of their subjugated state, such as reading from
a less-than-flattering account of the birth of Jesus, called, Tol’dot Yeshu. They would refrain from studying Torah, lest they
lend an air of holiness to the evening.
Instead, they would engage in less serious pursuits, such as card playing.
Today, we no longer live in a subjugated state. We live in a
free country. Our Christian neighbors
and friends don’t share the same hostility toward us as those among whom we
lived during the Middle Ages. In pluralistic America, religious affiliation tends to bring us together, rather than tearing us apart; it tends to support
understanding, tolerance and ecumenicism. Hence, pursuits that
cast aspersions upon Christianity are entirely without warrant.
What then are we to do on a national holiday on which just about everything is closed?
One response is to relax and
enjoy ourselves—which is why I’m so grateful to our Men's Club for sponsoring an evening of fun at the synagogue on December 24th. (Please contact Rick Kramer at rickkra@gmail.com for further details.)
Another fine response is to volunteer to help our non-Jewish
friends and neighbors on this day. I'll never forget one particularly
memorable Christmas Day I spent with my father many years ago. He had volunteered to help out in the kitchen
of a local hospital and, at the last minute, invited me to tag along with him. I’m so glad he did. It was very gratifying for both of us to volunteer time so that the regular food service workers in the hospital could be with their families on their holiday.
Many of us to do this quietly on our own. Collectively, we have Project Ezra, sponsored by the Synagogue Council of Massachusetts, which places volunteers in various shelters in the metropolitan area on Christmas. I am grateful to our Social Action Committee
for facilitating our participation in this worthy program. Fifty-one (51!) of our members are due to participate this year!
Some of us have non-Jewish relatives—perhaps spouses or
parents. What are we to do? If we are Jewish, how can we celebrate
Christmas? On the other hand, how can we not join our loved ones on this
day?
A number of years ago, Jewish
educator Joel Grishaver came up with a useful distinction. On the one hand, he said, Jews
should not "celebrate" Christmas.
After all, it isn’t a Jewish holiday. We shouldn't compromise our religious and cultural integrity. On the other hand, if we have non-Jewish relatives, we shouldn’t hesitate to “visit” Christmas with them. We can
and should respect our relatives’ holidays, and we can lovingly support our loved ones--without however celebrating those days ourselves.
Let me close on an amusing note. I’m sure that many of us
are familiar with the famous poem, “A Visit from St. Nicholas,” written by
Clement Clarke Moore (1779-1863) in 1822.
I’m sure many of us remember those opening lines:
T’was the
night before Christmas,
and all
through the house,
not a
creature was stirring,
not even a
mouse.
But I am sure that most of us have never heard this poem
recited in Yiddish! Well, there’s always
a first time: click here to hear a
recording of Dr. Sheldon Benjamin reciting Marie B. Jaffe's Yiddish translation, published in Gut Yuntiff, Gut Yohr, in 1965.
And while you're at it, have yourself a merry
Nitl Nacht!
Sincerely,
Rabbi Carl M. Perkins
Monday, September 2, 2013
Two Very Different New Year Messages
26 Elul 5773
1 September 2013
Dear Friends,
I tried, but I couldn't
write just one Rosh Hashanah message this year. So this comes to you in
two parts: Part I and Part II.
I.
"Peace, peace, ... but
there is no peace!" (Jeremiah
6:14)
As I write these words, our
nation's leaders are contemplating whether, and if so how, to respond to the
Syrian government's alleged use of poison gas against its own citizens.
There appears to be a
profound lack of unanimity within our nation concerning whether and how to
respond -- and what the impact of our intervention might be.
Peter Beinart of the Daily
Beast raised the question: Why now? Why is poison gas the trigger?
After all, 100,000 civilians had already been killed prior to this most
recent attack. Already, 1.6 million Syrian refugees are registered with
the United Nations. (See here.) It is estimated -- I'm still in
shock thinking about this -- that there will be as many as 3.5 million refugees
by the end of 2013. Why, if the United States has not responded earlier,
Beinart asks, is it responding now?
I think I know the answer to
that. I know that for me, as a Jew, poison gas has a particularly
despicable and horrifying resonance. (Coincidentally, today is the anniversary
of the outbreak of World War II.) I am sure that for many others as well, the
sight of the innocent victims of the Syrian attack (including many children)
was sickening and heartbreaking.
Whatever our leaders decide
to do, I hope that they will energetically continue to elicit
international support to condemn this attack and to try to prevent future ones.
I hope that they will use wisdom and care in determining how to respond.
Finally, I pray that their actions will not inadvertently lead to a
dangerous escalation of the conflict, but will instead lead to a speedier
resolution.
May peace come soon to this
very troubled country in this very troubled region. May 5774 be more
peaceful than 5773.
II.
While our thoughts, prayers
and concerns are focussed on the international crisis, it is nonetheless true
that Rosh Hashanah is only a few days away. Although the season is a time
for self-reflection, it is not solemn. It is a time to celebrate the
coming of the new year which we hope will be a sweet one.
One way we express this hope
is by eating foods like apples and honey and desserts like honey cake.
Additionally, our Yom Tov meals on Rosh Hashanah begin with two challah loaves,
which we also dip in honey, and it is customary for these to be special round
loaves in honor of the holiday.
Recently, I saw a short and
sweet Youtube video featured in a Tablet magazine article that I couldn't
resist sending on to you. It features the well-known Jewish cook, Joan
Nathan, demonstrating how to make and braid round challot for Rosh Hashanah.
Even if you won't be baking your own this year, this video is worth
watching. (Click here to read the article and watch the
video.)
I hope that your Yom Tov
(holiday) tables will feature sweet round challot--even if they are not as
tasty as Joan Nathan's seem to be--and that they will usher in for you and your
family a good and a sweet year.
Shanah Tovah u'mtukah!
Rabbi Carl M. Perkins
Monday, August 12, 2013
Stirring the pot ...
Last week, I apparently "stirred the pot."
I wrote a blogpost reflecting on the life and death of the great Jewish historian Menachem Stern, and the imminent release of one of his murderers. That blogpost (accessible here) provoked two reactions from opposite ends of the political spectrum.
First, Paul Scham, contributing to the "Partners for Progressive Israel Blog," criticized me for "short-sighted[ness]" in focussing exclusively on Israeli pain. Here is his blogpost.
Then, someone in my congregation brought to my attention a very different blogpost, entitled, "Sacrifices of Peace," found on the "Sultan Knish" blog maintained by Daniel Greenfield. This blogpost was not a response to my blog; rather, it was a direct response to the prisoner release, which Mr. Greenfield saw as shameless and unproductive appeasement. See here.
The perspectives of these two blogposts are, of course, far apart. Yet they share something in common: a lack of respect for those holding different opinions. Mr. Scham, for example, is convinced that my "seeming inability" to understand that there are two sides to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is perhaps the "greatest danger" to the peace process. And Mr. Greenfield deems just about every recent Israeli prime minister to be no better than the infamous heads of the Judenrate in Europe during World War II.
The ease with which these two authors can dismiss those who hold different perspectives is disappointing and worrisome.
As a response, I offer the sermon I delivered last year on the second day of Rosh HaShanah. It is available on my congregation's website (www.templealiyah.com), and can be accessed by clicking here.
I wrote a blogpost reflecting on the life and death of the great Jewish historian Menachem Stern, and the imminent release of one of his murderers. That blogpost (accessible here) provoked two reactions from opposite ends of the political spectrum.
First, Paul Scham, contributing to the "Partners for Progressive Israel Blog," criticized me for "short-sighted[ness]" in focussing exclusively on Israeli pain. Here is his blogpost.
Then, someone in my congregation brought to my attention a very different blogpost, entitled, "Sacrifices of Peace," found on the "Sultan Knish" blog maintained by Daniel Greenfield. This blogpost was not a response to my blog; rather, it was a direct response to the prisoner release, which Mr. Greenfield saw as shameless and unproductive appeasement. See here.
The perspectives of these two blogposts are, of course, far apart. Yet they share something in common: a lack of respect for those holding different opinions. Mr. Scham, for example, is convinced that my "seeming inability" to understand that there are two sides to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is perhaps the "greatest danger" to the peace process. And Mr. Greenfield deems just about every recent Israeli prime minister to be no better than the infamous heads of the Judenrate in Europe during World War II.
The ease with which these two authors can dismiss those who hold different perspectives is disappointing and worrisome.
As a response, I offer the sermon I delivered last year on the second day of Rosh HaShanah. It is available on my congregation's website (www.templealiyah.com), and can be accessed by clicking here.
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
One Particular "Confidence-Building Gesture"
As I'm sure we all know, as a result of Secretary of State Kerry's indefatigable efforts, peace talks have resumed between Israeli officials and representatives of the Palestinian Authority. As I am writing, Tsipi Livni, Israel's Justice Minister, and her staff are meeting with Dr. Saeb Erekat and his staff in Washington, D.C.
This wouldn't have happened -- or so the press has reported -- had Israel not agreed to several "confidence-building gestures." During the past decade or so, it's been fairly common for the Israeli government to engage in "confidence-building gestures" in order to induce Palestinian leaders to engage in negotiations. See here.
This time, the most prominent action was the decision to release 104 Arab prisoners held in Israeli jails. (See here.) The cabinet approved of this gesture the other day in a vote of 13 to 7, with 2 abstentions. (See here and here for details.)
For some of us here in the United States, such a gesture might seem insignificant. How difficult, how compromising could it be to release a few prisoners? And even if it is, how could such challenges compare with the opportunity to reach a final agreement with the Palestinians?
Yet, for Israelis, it can be quite difficult and quite troubling. To pardon unrepentant convicted murderers and release them from prison on the basis of political considerations appears to flout the rule of law, and can undermine the nation's confidence in the criminal justice system.
Let me give you an example. Let me tell you the story of one particular victim of one particular crime, committed by one particular prisoner -- who is due to be released prematurely from prison shortly.
I remember the first time I read the writings of the great Jewish scholar, Menachem Stern. I was in the library of the Jewish Theological Seminary. It was in the late-1970s. I happened upon a copy of Stern's "Greek and Latin Authors on Jews and Judaism," and I found it fascinating.
For some reason, in my mind at least, Jewish history on the one hand, and ancient Graeco-Roman history on the other, were two very different domains. Until I perused Menachem Stern's book, it hadn't occured to me that Greeks or Romans wrote much about Jews and Judaism. In college, I had studied Plato and Socrates in philosophy classes, and had read plays by Sophocles and Aristophanes, selections from Ovid's Metamorphoses, and other Greek and Latin works in literature classes. All of those authors had seemed oblivious to Jews and Judaism. And so Stern's work was eye-opening to me.
Menachem Stern was born in Poland in 1925. His family moved to Vienna, Austria, shortly thereafter, and it was from there that, in the nick of time, they made aliyah in 1938.
Stern studied at the Reali School in Haifa (whose students come each year to the Boston area on an exchange program sponsored by the Boston-Haifa connection) and the Hebrew University. Upon receiving his PhD from Hebrew University, he began teaching there, and he became a full professor in 1971. In 1977, he was awarded the Israel Prize, the nation's highest civilian honor.
Internationally recognized as an expert in both the History of the Jews during the Second Temple Period as well as Graeco-Roman History, Stern was also known to be gracious and generous with his time and assistance to graduate and undergraduate students.
Professor Stern's life was cut short on June 22, 1989. While walking from his home to the Hebrew University, as he did virtually every weekday morning, through the Valley of the Cross, a lovely wooded area at the foot of the Israel Museum in the shadow of a medieval monastery, he was murdered.
A group of first-graders, out for a walk with their teacher, found his body alongside one of the paths. The police came to Professor Stern's house on Tchernichovsky Street, and brought his wife, Hava, with them to the Valley of the Cross to identify the body. The police commander told Hava that he had had the privilege of studying with Professor Stern when he was a student at the university. Thousands came to the funeral, held at the Hebrew University.
A plaque has been erected at the site of the murder.
Three years later, Professor Stern's assailants were finally apprehended, and shortly thereafter they were tried, convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment.
Professor Menachem Stern was not an ordinary person. Not only was he "a great humanist and scholar of the ancient world," in the words of Professor Peter Brown of Princeton, but he was also "modest in demeanour ... and an amiable, peace-loving man" who "eschew[ed] academic pomposity." (See here.)
He also was apparently exceptionally kind and gentle. Here are the words of one colleague, Professor Miriam Eliav-Feldon, who spoke about him in 2000 on behalf of the Israel Historical Society:
For a wonderful tribute to Professor Stern (in Hebrew) on the 20th anniversary of his death, click here.
I thought about Menachem Stern during my recent sabbatical. It was hard not to: my wife, Elana, and I were living in the neighborhood where he used to live. We walked through the Valley of the Cross many, many times. We passed by the square named in his memory, on the street where he had once lived:
Moreover, Elana took an ulpan class with Menachem Stern's daughter at the Conservative Yeshiva. And so it was hard not to be aware of this tragic loss.
The list of prisoners due to be released shortly as a "confidence-building gesture" includes one of Menachem Stern's murderers.
One wonders: what is the message of this release? What is the nature of the confidence that is being built up with this gesture?
On the one hand, this does achieve one objective: it certainly makes the point that Israel is prepared to take very painful steps to achieve progress in its negotiations with the Palestinians.
But, of course, a gesture can work both ways.
In this case, in addition to building confidence among Palestinians that Israelis are prepared to make painful compromises, this gesture builds confidence among Israelis that terrorist attacks are and will continue to be considered legitimate tactics in the Palestinians' on-going struggle with Israel. This gesture builds confidence within Israel that the Palestinian leadership does not distinguish and will continue not to distinguish between the killing of an armed combatant during a military operation and the killing of an unarmed civilian -- a professor in his sixties at that -- on his way to the library. Perhaps most dangerous of all, it builds confidence among Israelis that the Palestinian leadership lacks basic human decency. All of these, unfortunately, will hinder rather than advance peaceful relations.
I do not write these words to suggest that the Israeli government should not have agreed to release Professor Stern's assailant -- although some will argue just that. (For example, the mother of a girl who was killed in the infamous Sbarro Pizza attack in Jerusalem in 2001 has strongly condemned the current prisoner release. One of the terrorists responsible for that attack, who was subsequently convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment, was among those released two years ago in order to free Gilad Shalit. Click here to read that mother's bitter, impassioned words.)
I write only to suggest just how problematic and how painful such a gesture can be, not only for the families of the victims, but for all Israelis. Simply multiply the pain arising from the release of the murderer of the gentle and peace-loving Menachem Stern by 104, and you can get an idea just how difficult it has been -- and will continue to be -- as Israel continues to walk down this difficult and perilous path.
Nevertheless, let us hope that the current efforts will bear fruit, and that both Israelis and Palestinians will move closer to the goal of mutually respectful and peaceful relations.
This wouldn't have happened -- or so the press has reported -- had Israel not agreed to several "confidence-building gestures." During the past decade or so, it's been fairly common for the Israeli government to engage in "confidence-building gestures" in order to induce Palestinian leaders to engage in negotiations. See here.
This time, the most prominent action was the decision to release 104 Arab prisoners held in Israeli jails. (See here.) The cabinet approved of this gesture the other day in a vote of 13 to 7, with 2 abstentions. (See here and here for details.)
For some of us here in the United States, such a gesture might seem insignificant. How difficult, how compromising could it be to release a few prisoners? And even if it is, how could such challenges compare with the opportunity to reach a final agreement with the Palestinians?
Yet, for Israelis, it can be quite difficult and quite troubling. To pardon unrepentant convicted murderers and release them from prison on the basis of political considerations appears to flout the rule of law, and can undermine the nation's confidence in the criminal justice system.
Let me give you an example. Let me tell you the story of one particular victim of one particular crime, committed by one particular prisoner -- who is due to be released prematurely from prison shortly.
***
For some reason, in my mind at least, Jewish history on the one hand, and ancient Graeco-Roman history on the other, were two very different domains. Until I perused Menachem Stern's book, it hadn't occured to me that Greeks or Romans wrote much about Jews and Judaism. In college, I had studied Plato and Socrates in philosophy classes, and had read plays by Sophocles and Aristophanes, selections from Ovid's Metamorphoses, and other Greek and Latin works in literature classes. All of those authors had seemed oblivious to Jews and Judaism. And so Stern's work was eye-opening to me.
Menachem Stern was born in Poland in 1925. His family moved to Vienna, Austria, shortly thereafter, and it was from there that, in the nick of time, they made aliyah in 1938.
Cheering crowds greet Hitler as he enters Vienna. Austria, March 1938.
(Source: United States Holocaust Memorial Museum)
Stern studied at the Reali School in Haifa (whose students come each year to the Boston area on an exchange program sponsored by the Boston-Haifa connection) and the Hebrew University. Upon receiving his PhD from Hebrew University, he began teaching there, and he became a full professor in 1971. In 1977, he was awarded the Israel Prize, the nation's highest civilian honor.
Internationally recognized as an expert in both the History of the Jews during the Second Temple Period as well as Graeco-Roman History, Stern was also known to be gracious and generous with his time and assistance to graduate and undergraduate students.
***
Professor Stern's life was cut short on June 22, 1989. While walking from his home to the Hebrew University, as he did virtually every weekday morning, through the Valley of the Cross, a lovely wooded area at the foot of the Israel Museum in the shadow of a medieval monastery, he was murdered.
A group of first-graders, out for a walk with their teacher, found his body alongside one of the paths. The police came to Professor Stern's house on Tchernichovsky Street, and brought his wife, Hava, with them to the Valley of the Cross to identify the body. The police commander told Hava that he had had the privilege of studying with Professor Stern when he was a student at the university. Thousands came to the funeral, held at the Hebrew University.
A plaque has been erected at the site of the murder.
Three years later, Professor Stern's assailants were finally apprehended, and shortly thereafter they were tried, convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment.
Professor Menachem Stern was not an ordinary person. Not only was he "a great humanist and scholar of the ancient world," in the words of Professor Peter Brown of Princeton, but he was also "modest in demeanour ... and an amiable, peace-loving man" who "eschew[ed] academic pomposity." (See here.)
He also was apparently exceptionally kind and gentle. Here are the words of one colleague, Professor Miriam Eliav-Feldon, who spoke about him in 2000 on behalf of the Israel Historical Society:
One could hardly imagine a person less associated with brutality or hatred than the gentle and soft-spoken Professor Stern, who was loved and respected by all: colleagues, students, and acquaintances alike. His sudden and horrifying death left a wound and a pain that is still felt not only by his family and close friends, but also by the entire academic community in Israel and by historians of the classical period around the world. The establishment of the Menahem Stern Jerusalem Lectures is, I believe, the most appropriate way of commemorating the life and contribution of such an erudite and influential scholar. As long as lecture halls are filled to capacity by men and women seeking knowledge and wisdom, ... we know that Menahem Stern’s legacy is still maintained.
For a wonderful tribute to Professor Stern (in Hebrew) on the 20th anniversary of his death, click here.
Moreover, Elana took an ulpan class with Menachem Stern's daughter at the Conservative Yeshiva. And so it was hard not to be aware of this tragic loss.
***
The list of prisoners due to be released shortly as a "confidence-building gesture" includes one of Menachem Stern's murderers.
One wonders: what is the message of this release? What is the nature of the confidence that is being built up with this gesture?
On the one hand, this does achieve one objective: it certainly makes the point that Israel is prepared to take very painful steps to achieve progress in its negotiations with the Palestinians.
But, of course, a gesture can work both ways.
In this case, in addition to building confidence among Palestinians that Israelis are prepared to make painful compromises, this gesture builds confidence among Israelis that terrorist attacks are and will continue to be considered legitimate tactics in the Palestinians' on-going struggle with Israel. This gesture builds confidence within Israel that the Palestinian leadership does not distinguish and will continue not to distinguish between the killing of an armed combatant during a military operation and the killing of an unarmed civilian -- a professor in his sixties at that -- on his way to the library. Perhaps most dangerous of all, it builds confidence among Israelis that the Palestinian leadership lacks basic human decency. All of these, unfortunately, will hinder rather than advance peaceful relations.
I do not write these words to suggest that the Israeli government should not have agreed to release Professor Stern's assailant -- although some will argue just that. (For example, the mother of a girl who was killed in the infamous Sbarro Pizza attack in Jerusalem in 2001 has strongly condemned the current prisoner release. One of the terrorists responsible for that attack, who was subsequently convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment, was among those released two years ago in order to free Gilad Shalit. Click here to read that mother's bitter, impassioned words.)
I write only to suggest just how problematic and how painful such a gesture can be, not only for the families of the victims, but for all Israelis. Simply multiply the pain arising from the release of the murderer of the gentle and peace-loving Menachem Stern by 104, and you can get an idea just how difficult it has been -- and will continue to be -- as Israel continues to walk down this difficult and perilous path.
Nevertheless, let us hope that the current efforts will bear fruit, and that both Israelis and Palestinians will move closer to the goal of mutually respectful and peaceful relations.
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Who Was Zohara Levyatov?
The other day, I received an email from the Friends of the Israel Defense Forces (FIDF). It was a notice about an upcoming event in the Boston area featuring two exceptional Israeli pilots. What makes them special? Here's the blurb:
***
What caught my attention was that last line.
I have no doubt that these two women are brave soldiers who have had to face many obstacles in pursuing their careers as pilots in the Israeli airforce. And it is true that the Israeli Air Force was a male-only field for many years.
But it wasn't always that way. In fact, during Israel's first decade, women did serve in the Israeli Air Force. It wasn't until 1960 that women were not permitted to be IAF pilots.
Let me tell you about one particular woman pilot who served in the Israeli Air Force a long time ago. Her name is Zohara Levyatov.
How did I first become interested in Zohara Levyatov?
As I mentioned in a previous blogpost, during my recent sabbatical, I lived in a neighborhood in Jerusalem where virtually all of the streets are named after Jewish military heroes or Jewish fighting forces.
For example, I lived in an apartment on Rehov HaPalmach, named after the Haganah's pre-state strike force. Down the block is Rehov Ha-Gdud Ha-Ivri (The Jewish Legion) named after the Jewish Legion which fought with the British against the Germans during World War I. At the corner there's Kovshei Katamon (the Haganah unit that conquered the neighborhood of Katamon during the War of Independence). And then there are the streets named after individual military heroes, like Eli Cohen (an Israeli spy hanged in Syria in 1965).
Rehov HaPalmach runs along the top of a ridge. To descend on foot to the Valley of the Cross (named after the Monastery of the Cross, about which I wrote, a few months ago, here), one can take two pathways. One is named for Haviva Reik, the Jewish partisan who parachuted into enemy territory during World War II and was killed by the Nazis. (I wrote about her here.) The other option is to go down the pedestrian pathway called the Zohara (Levyatov) Pathway.
Zohara Levyatov? Who was Zohara Levyatov?
Who was Zohara Levyatov?
Until a few months ago, when I squinted and read that street sign carefully, I must admit: I had no idea. The path leads down to Rehov Ha-Tayasim (Pilots Street), and so it wasn't entirely a surprise to learn that she was a Israeli pilot. But that she was a pilot in 1948, when Israel had only a handful of planes!? That was a surprise.
I did some reading and learned the amazing story of her life:
Zohara Levyatov was born in Tel Aviv in 1927.
Like many other young, idealistic and committed Jews growing up in Mandatory Palestine at the time, ...
Interestingly, while in the Palmach, Zohara shared a tent with Leah Schlossberg, who would one day marry Yitzhak Rabin and become Leah Rabin.
Zohara distinguished herself in the Palmach early on, and as a medic she participated in a daring Palmach mission on the so-called "Night of the Bridges" (an complex operation intended to destroy eleven bridges in Mandatory Palestine on the night of June 16-17, 1946). There were several operational failures, and fourteen of Zohara's comrades were killed. Zohara herself was wounded in the eyes, and she returned to her base on Kibbutz Ein Harod for recuperation. There she met the man who would soon become her sweetheart, Shmuel (Shmulik) Kaufman.
Although still a teenager, Shmulik had also distinguished himself. After his discharge from the Palmach, and after making plans to study in England, he nonetheless felt called upon to return for an extra tour of duty. A short while later, as documented in Zohara's diary and in a series of love letters exchanged between her and Shmulik, they fell in love, and they soon became engaged.
They both wanted to become doctors, and they decided to go to the United States to continue their education. But on May 2, 1947, on the day before Shmulik was due to be discharged from the Palmach and shortly before their anticipated wedding day, Shmulik was asked to supervise a training exercise with live hand grenades. One of them exploded unexpectedly, killing him and two other soldiers.
A few months later, encouraged by her parents, Zohara travelled to Philadelphia, PA, to pursue her dream of becoming a doctor. At first, she lived with Shmulik's sister; then, when she was accepted at Columbia University, she moved to New York.
Again, events intervened. As the British prepared to withdraw from Palestine following the U.N. partition vote on November 29th, 1947, war broke out between Arabs and Jews. As her late fiancé had been, Zohara felt drawn to serve the Yishuv (the Jewish community in the Land of Israel). She met with Teddy Kolleck, the Haganah shaliach (emissary) in New York (and future mayor of Jerusalem). One of two women to be accepted at the Eleanor Rudnick Flight School in Bakersfield, California (which Teddy Kolleck had set up to train pilots for the future Israeli Air Force), Zohara went there for training, and she excelled in her studies.
It's heartbreaking, but in California she developed another romantic attachment: this one to a fellow pilot-in-training, who was killed a few months later when his plane was shot down over Lod on July 7th, 1948.
Shortly after her return to Israel, Zohara was appointed Deputy Flight Commander at the Tel Aviv airport, and, according to the IDF, she participated as a veteran pilot on several missions.
On July 18th, 1948, a UN-brokered truce came into effect. Shortly thereafter, Zohara flew to Jerusalem to visit her family. On August 3rd, she took off on a routine flight from the Rehavia airfield in Jerusalem (today's "Sacher Park"). She was flying in an Auster, a small British reconnaisance plane. Several Austers had been acquired by the Haganah from the British during their withdrawal. See the following depiction of the plane on an Israeli Air Force medal:
During takeoff, the plane stalled, and then failed to clear the walls of the Monastery of the Cross. It plummeted to the ground, and Zohara and her co-pilot were killed. It happens that one of the first people to reach the plane was Ruth Dayan (the wife of Moshe Dayan, then commander of the Israel Defense Forces in Jerusalem and later Secretary of Defense) who had been washing dishes in her sister's apartment in Rehavia. She recovered Zohara's body and brought it with her in her husband's command car to the hospital.
Zohara was given a hero's funeral when her body was transferred to the Har Herzl military cemetery in 1950. The publication, in 1951, of her diaries helped make Zohara Levyatov an icon for several generations of Israelis and, over the years, her story has continued to engender great interest. In 1980, Deborah Omer wrote, "Love Until Death," and in 1981, a play called, "Zohara's Shmulik" was performed in Israel. In 2003, Ofer Regev wrote, "In the Splendor of the Heavens," based on Zohara's diaries. (Zohara's name means "splendor", and the phrase "zohar ha-rakia" -- "splendor of the heavens" -- appears in the El Malei Rachamim memorial prayer.)
To me, the story of Zohara Levyatov is a reminder that there was a time, during the early years of Labor Zionism, when women served freely alongside men...
It is sad for me to realize that even as women have won several hard-fought battles in Israel during the past few decades to enter previously male-only domains in the army and in government, religious fundamentalism has also been on the rise, and women have found themselves facing renewed discrimination and marginalization.
During my stay in Israel, I walked on Netiv Zohara many, many times. Most of that time, I was completely unaware of the story of Zohara Levyatov, and I would imagine that many of the people who walk along that path today are similarly oblivious.
But as I think about the life of this talented, idealistic, passionate, dedicated and sadly forever-young woman, I'm glad that I've come to know about her achievements. She inspires me. Walking down that path from Rehov HaPalmach and strolling in the area of Sacher Park and the Monastery of the Cross will, for me, never be the same.
***
In Defense of the Homeland:
IDF Women Pilots
The evening will feature TWO COURAGEOUS FEMALE PILOTS of the Israel Defense Forces.
The young women will describe their unparalleled experiences in the Israeli Air Force including the grueling training and operations they take on regularly to keep Israel safe.
Each woman will share her personal story, participating in what, for many years, was a male-only field.
***
I have no doubt that these two women are brave soldiers who have had to face many obstacles in pursuing their careers as pilots in the Israeli airforce. And it is true that the Israeli Air Force was a male-only field for many years.
But it wasn't always that way. In fact, during Israel's first decade, women did serve in the Israeli Air Force. It wasn't until 1960 that women were not permitted to be IAF pilots.
Let me tell you about one particular woman pilot who served in the Israeli Air Force a long time ago. Her name is Zohara Levyatov.
How did I first become interested in Zohara Levyatov?
As I mentioned in a previous blogpost, during my recent sabbatical, I lived in a neighborhood in Jerusalem where virtually all of the streets are named after Jewish military heroes or Jewish fighting forces.
For example, I lived in an apartment on Rehov HaPalmach, named after the Haganah's pre-state strike force. Down the block is Rehov Ha-Gdud Ha-Ivri (The Jewish Legion) named after the Jewish Legion which fought with the British against the Germans during World War I. At the corner there's Kovshei Katamon (the Haganah unit that conquered the neighborhood of Katamon during the War of Independence). And then there are the streets named after individual military heroes, like Eli Cohen (an Israeli spy hanged in Syria in 1965).
Rehov HaPalmach runs along the top of a ridge. To descend on foot to the Valley of the Cross (named after the Monastery of the Cross, about which I wrote, a few months ago, here), one can take two pathways. One is named for Haviva Reik, the Jewish partisan who parachuted into enemy territory during World War II and was killed by the Nazis. (I wrote about her here.) The other option is to go down the pedestrian pathway called the Zohara (Levyatov) Pathway.
Zohara Levyatov? Who was Zohara Levyatov?
Who was Zohara Levyatov?
Until a few months ago, when I squinted and read that street sign carefully, I must admit: I had no idea. The path leads down to Rehov Ha-Tayasim (Pilots Street), and so it wasn't entirely a surprise to learn that she was a Israeli pilot. But that she was a pilot in 1948, when Israel had only a handful of planes!? That was a surprise.
I did some reading and learned the amazing story of her life:
Zohara Levyatov was born in Tel Aviv in 1927.
Like many other young, idealistic and committed Jews growing up in Mandatory Palestine at the time, ...
Zohara at age 16
... Zohara joined the Palmach right after she graduated from high school.
Zohara after joining the Palmach in 1945
Interestingly, while in the Palmach, Zohara shared a tent with Leah Schlossberg, who would one day marry Yitzhak Rabin and become Leah Rabin.
Zohara distinguished herself in the Palmach early on, and as a medic she participated in a daring Palmach mission on the so-called "Night of the Bridges" (an complex operation intended to destroy eleven bridges in Mandatory Palestine on the night of June 16-17, 1946). There were several operational failures, and fourteen of Zohara's comrades were killed. Zohara herself was wounded in the eyes, and she returned to her base on Kibbutz Ein Harod for recuperation. There she met the man who would soon become her sweetheart, Shmuel (Shmulik) Kaufman.
They both wanted to become doctors, and they decided to go to the United States to continue their education. But on May 2, 1947, on the day before Shmulik was due to be discharged from the Palmach and shortly before their anticipated wedding day, Shmulik was asked to supervise a training exercise with live hand grenades. One of them exploded unexpectedly, killing him and two other soldiers.
A few months later, encouraged by her parents, Zohara travelled to Philadelphia, PA, to pursue her dream of becoming a doctor. At first, she lived with Shmulik's sister; then, when she was accepted at Columbia University, she moved to New York.
Again, events intervened. As the British prepared to withdraw from Palestine following the U.N. partition vote on November 29th, 1947, war broke out between Arabs and Jews. As her late fiancé had been, Zohara felt drawn to serve the Yishuv (the Jewish community in the Land of Israel). She met with Teddy Kolleck, the Haganah shaliach (emissary) in New York (and future mayor of Jerusalem). One of two women to be accepted at the Eleanor Rudnick Flight School in Bakersfield, California (which Teddy Kolleck had set up to train pilots for the future Israeli Air Force), Zohara went there for training, and she excelled in her studies.
It's heartbreaking, but in California she developed another romantic attachment: this one to a fellow pilot-in-training, who was killed a few months later when his plane was shot down over Lod on July 7th, 1948.
Shortly after her return to Israel, Zohara was appointed Deputy Flight Commander at the Tel Aviv airport, and, according to the IDF, she participated as a veteran pilot on several missions.
On July 18th, 1948, a UN-brokered truce came into effect. Shortly thereafter, Zohara flew to Jerusalem to visit her family. On August 3rd, she took off on a routine flight from the Rehavia airfield in Jerusalem (today's "Sacher Park"). She was flying in an Auster, a small British reconnaisance plane. Several Austers had been acquired by the Haganah from the British during their withdrawal. See the following depiction of the plane on an Israeli Air Force medal:
During takeoff, the plane stalled, and then failed to clear the walls of the Monastery of the Cross. It plummeted to the ground, and Zohara and her co-pilot were killed. It happens that one of the first people to reach the plane was Ruth Dayan (the wife of Moshe Dayan, then commander of the Israel Defense Forces in Jerusalem and later Secretary of Defense) who had been washing dishes in her sister's apartment in Rehavia. She recovered Zohara's body and brought it with her in her husband's command car to the hospital.
Zohara was given a hero's funeral when her body was transferred to the Har Herzl military cemetery in 1950. The publication, in 1951, of her diaries helped make Zohara Levyatov an icon for several generations of Israelis and, over the years, her story has continued to engender great interest. In 1980, Deborah Omer wrote, "Love Until Death," and in 1981, a play called, "Zohara's Shmulik" was performed in Israel. In 2003, Ofer Regev wrote, "In the Splendor of the Heavens," based on Zohara's diaries. (Zohara's name means "splendor", and the phrase "zohar ha-rakia" -- "splendor of the heavens" -- appears in the El Malei Rachamim memorial prayer.)
***
To me, the story of Zohara Levyatov is a reminder that there was a time, during the early years of Labor Zionism, when women served freely alongside men...
during the 1948 Arab–Israeli War (Source: Wikipedia)
It is sad for me to realize that even as women have won several hard-fought battles in Israel during the past few decades to enter previously male-only domains in the army and in government, religious fundamentalism has also been on the rise, and women have found themselves facing renewed discrimination and marginalization.
***
During my stay in Israel, I walked on Netiv Zohara many, many times. Most of that time, I was completely unaware of the story of Zohara Levyatov, and I would imagine that many of the people who walk along that path today are similarly oblivious.
But as I think about the life of this talented, idealistic, passionate, dedicated and sadly forever-young woman, I'm glad that I've come to know about her achievements. She inspires me. Walking down that path from Rehov HaPalmach and strolling in the area of Sacher Park and the Monastery of the Cross will, for me, never be the same.
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