Antisemitism

Perhaps I'm being too parochial, but from what I've read it's hard not to conclude that Jews have long been the targets of anger and bias (and will continue to be so). In ancient times, when they were a nation among nations, and not viewed primarily from the perspective of religion, the Jews were simply another group that had to be defeated in the perennial wars between nations. Haman may have tried to eliminate them as a religious group, but it was primarily his obsession and not typical of the times. From the points of view of others, Jewish practices were of no particular note. There may have been an interest in their land, but not in their beliefs and not in their religion.

Christianity's separation, however, was certainly based on belief, and a difference in the conception of what constituted G-d. And what grew the split that occurred, and the reasons for it, was a belief by the new group that the Jews had “killed G-d” specifically that they had killed Jesus – the “son.” They hadn't, but over time the notion became so ingrained in Christians that it became “fact.” And they believed that they had superseded the Jews as Israel, G-d's chosen people. The Jews were agents of the devil, and they were bound to eliminate them.

Next rose Islam, based on Jewish and Christian teachings. When the Jews rejected the new religion they became its targets. According to the Hadith,

The Day of Judgment will not come about until Muslims fight the Jews, when the Jew will hide behind stones and trees. The stones and trees will say O Muslims, O Abdullah, there is a Jew behind me, come and kill him.

With the Christian and Islamic teachings – and more than half of the world's population is either Christian or Islamic – it was no longer a military battle but a moral one. It was not only acceptable to hate Jews, it was obligatory.

There were many examples of the hatred. They included the 1929 massacre in Hebron, the Holocaust, the current Middle East conflict with various parties vowing to eliminate Israel, and the background of antisemitism.

It's frightening. The Jewish population of the world is only 0.2% of all. It's likely that the vast majority of people will never meet a Jew. Yet, according to ADL statistics, 26% of the world's population [and virtually all of the United Nations – S. O.] has anti-semitic views. I suspect that the number is significantly higher when you add in the number who view themselves as “anti-Zionist” but don't consider themselves anti-semitic. What is the origin of their hatred?

There are many causes, but the predominant ones are church teachings and the teaching in Islam that all lands in which Muslims have been a predominant group, whenever that was, belongs to them, and the Jews – and especially Israel – threaten this hegemony. The fact that neither of these religions has been able to attract large numbers of Jews contributes to the hatred.

Another contributor is the United Nations. There are numerous Islamic nations with both political and economic power. And that's more important to the other nations than right and wrong. For most it's not a question of military supremacy – although for many it is – but religious hatred. And the media are quick to promote the bias, probably because of their own prejudices and for economic reasons. According to Lord Palmerston, nations don't have friends, only interests.

And, of course, there's word of mouth. People have heard negative things from their friends who heard them from others or social media or whatever. It's hard to ignore or dispel negative stereotypes when they're passed on to you by a friend.

How would such attitudes be changed? It would take the combined efforts of religious and secular leaders, of national and international officials and organizations, to begin to reorient those with negative views. It's not going to happen soon, if at all. Hatred is too deeply ingrained in too may people.

The only reasonable reaction by the Jews and Israel is one of defense, which will, itself, be viewed as a threat from an untrustworthy people. And that makes it, I suspect, an insoluble problem – a “catch-22” – and it would require billions of people to recognize that their views aren't rational. And until such a time the Jews and Israel will have to act like Boy Scouts. More than being ideal citizens of the world, they'll have to be prepared.

June 27, 2017

There's A Word For It

When we got the comic book home we devoured it. It had cost ten cents, a significant piece of change for us at the time, and we weren't going to miss a thing. It was good guys against bad – supergood versus superbad. There was no subtlety. Sure the girls read comic love stories, but they weren't very subtle either. And superheroes were mostly for the boys anyway. Archie and Jughead, Betty and Veronica, provided some of the laughs.

Sometimes we sat on the floor in the back of the candy store as we read them; sometimes we devoured them on the subway train. Our parents weren't thrilled by the idea, but we were reading. It wasn't all bad. Especially considering some of the other, less civilized, activities of youth about which they read in the newspapers. They urged us to do our homework before reading the comics, but they knew we'd read them sooner or later.

After all, they read the comics also. They were in the newspaper and could be better hidden – even when they were in public. But no adult would read a comic book on the subway. It was evidence of childish ignorance and fantasy.

It's different now. Now there are comic books for adults. We've made them acceptable and you now see people (usually women) reading them on the subway.

What accounts for this change in behavior? Well, it doesn't hurt that they're the size of pocket books and look less like the childrens' variety. Nor that they're a little less subtle and a little more “sensitive.” They also cost more which puts them in the adult range.

But the real reason for their newfound popularity is that they're no longer “comic books.” Sure they may look like them, but they're “graphic novels.” That's all it takes. Now it doesn't sound like something for kids. They're adult fare. It's just a commercial application of something we've been doing for years. We think that words govern the nature of matter – that words matter.

Well, they do. It's not far-fetched. Consider the Sapir-Whorf (or Whorf-Sapir – it depends on whom you read) Hypothesis. Their view was that if there's no word for a particular concept, you can't really think about it. So, they conclude, the structure of a language affects its speakers' world view. Perhaps you suffer from yokomeshi. You'll never know. Perhaps when you try to speak Japanese you get anxious. Still you'll never realize that you're not alone and there's a particular syndrome of stress induced by trying to speak a foreign language (and the Japanese have that particular word for it). So you just suffer through Spanish and Russian classes without knowing why you're nervous. Or, perhaps, you felt satisfaction, when your neighbor's prior success went down the tubes. It's actually Schadenfreude, an ailment from which we all suffer – or which we all enjoy. And the shades of meaning of unfamiliar concepts in unknown languages is one of the main causes of yokomeshi for translators, though they view our discomfort with Schadenfreude.

Words do mean something. But it may not be what we think. They're flexible. They change over time. So “nice,” which is derived from nescio, the Latin word for the idea of not knowing – ignorance – is now more positive. I suspect that at one time a “nice distinction” was one without a difference, but now it's one that makes an important point. Quite the opposite. Over the millennia, “nice” has gone from a pejorative to a word of praise and compliment.

That, however, is evolution. Revolution takes place as well. It may be the invention of new words and phrases that takes place with slang, but there may be more sinister intent. Thus Orwell, in 1984, introduced the use of “Newspeak,” which both limited the meanings of words and, sometimes, gave them connotations, opposite to what we understood them to be. Or, as with “blackwhite,” contradictory meanings depending on the circumstances.

Readers, though, understood Orwell's intent and the word usages. It was all part of a story. It was imaginary even if it was threatening. But we've gone further, by changing the meanings of words to rid our language of ideas we don't like – and it's not fiction. We use euphemisms to disguise ideas that may “offend” others. (Actually, most of the time we're the ones offended. Not those we claim to protect.) We no longer have “retarded” children. They're “special” now. For a while they were “slow learners,” but even that was too harsh. There was a time when some children were diagnosed with “minimal brain dysfunction,” MBD, but parents didn't want their offspring so labeled – partly because it reflected on the kids, and partly because it suggested that they may have passed on a defect to them. With a change in the label – though no change in the cause – the process not only became acceptable, but was accepted with joy as a justification for a variety of problems. Indeed, ADD, attention deficit disorder (or ADHD which often accompanies it, especially in boys), is in fashion and over-diagnosed, to the great benefit of the drug companies.

Having noted the scent of “hurtful” words, we now smell them everywhere, whether or not they are present. “Niggardly” is misunderstood to be derived from the “N word” (we shudder to go beyond the first letter – to spell out what we think) even though there is no relationship between them, and the idea of “trigger” words and “microaggressions” is limiting our right of free speech, especially on college campuses where the exchange of ideas should take precedence over “sensitivity” and the eager adoption of ignorance rather than learning.

Our efforts to “reach out and touch somebody” have all the subtlety of a comic book graphic novel. We're sensitive to the point of non-communication. Even our superheroes have matured. It's a laugh.

September 20, 2016

Ignorance Is Bliss

By now you know I'm Jewish. My upbringing was mostly secular, but my wife and I chose a more religious path for our children – both at school and in our home. One of our most memorable home rituals was the Passover Seder but, in all honesty, I wasn't all that good at it. My education had left large holes in the knowledge of my heritage. So I decided to learn a little more about it, and to pass on to my children what I learned. I wrote a series of Haggadahs – “guidebooks” to the Seder – one for each of the children. The first was completed in 1980 when our oldest was fourteen, and the third two years later, when our youngest was eight. What I wrote in them isn't very important, but the experience was as the Introduction below will attest.

In the immortal words of Peggy Lee and Dave Barbour, “I know a little bit about a lot of things.” And while there are recurring themes in the essays published subsequently – like those in this column – I've also covered quite a bit of ground which included many subjects about which I had only a smattering of knowledge. Or as Lee and Barbour put it, “but I don't know enough about” them. (They had written “you” where I put “them” in the previous sentence, but you get the point.) So ignorance didn't stop me when I had something I wanted to say. In fact it helped, serving as an excuse for any errors, as you will see from the “Introduction” below. That essay, which was written for first Haggadah, may clarify my method, which I have continued to use – learn a little and shoot my mouth off. (Pope warned that “A little learning is a dangerous thing,” but that never fazed me.)

I'm including the whole Introduction. It's a little long but I like it the way it is. And you'll know a little more about me.

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Introduction

Seated around the seder table over the years we have had the opportunity to trade many ideas about the meanings of both the events recounted in the Haggadah, and the rituals associated with this celebration. These exchanges have added a lot to the pleasure of our joining together as a family, not rushed by the need to leave early or work the following day. We have learned a lot from each other, and from ourselves as well as we explored the questions we had, in order to explain our ideas about them to each other.

As the father it has been my responsibility to answer everyone's questions and to explain the deeper meanings of this important service. That has been my responsibility, but I have never fulfilled it to the degree that I should have liked. More often it has been your words, my children, your understandings and explanations, that have clarified the Haggadah for me. I have learned a lot from you and I am grateful to all of you for that. Your education and background prepared you better for this than did mine.

But my lack of education was not altogether wasted. The thoughts that I have had over the years about what was the seminal event of our history have prompted me to try to understand it in a manner a little different from the commentary in most Haggadahs. It is different in two ways. The first is in the premise of my comments. It is that the contents of the Haggadah are so basic to our understanding of our heritage that it is inconceivable that the entire Torah does not cast considerable light on it. I am certain that there is, in every parashah, whether it deals directly with the exodus or not, some thought that clarifies the meaning of the seder. Thus I have recorded my thoughts on each of the 54 sections of the Torah, indicating how I see it relating to the words of the Haggadah.

As for my lack of a formal education comparable to yours, however, that has been both a major drawback and a major benefit. Because most of the sources are closed to me I cannot bring down the references that have guided our commentators in the past. But my ignorance has been a kind of benefit. It has left me without some of the fixed ideas about what particular words, events or actions are supposed to mean. This lack of direction has allowed me to wander off in ways that may be different from those considered definitive. Indeed, some of my thoughts may be completely our of touch with our heritage, and I regret any ideas which, because of my ignorance, may be in disagreement with those of our sages.

But to the degree that my freedom to explore may have provided you with some perspectives that answer questions you have had, or which, at least, offer a different road for you to follow in finding your own answers, I am pleased. The effort, itself, has been both enlightening and liberating for me, for I have learned some important and basic lessons. First of all, in thinking about Jewish literature through the ages I recognize that a large percentage of it is not “original” but commentary on past works, especially the Torah, written and oral. And it follows that there is a great deal of commentary on the Haggadah, which is based on Torah. The Haggadah, which is based on biblical texts, has been expanded and expounded upon from the Tannaitic Period up to modern times, and the volume and varieties of commentaries is overwhelming.

More significantly, though, I now realize that the value of these commentaries is only in part the content. For after having engaged in this effort it seems apparent to me that even more important than the content is the process itself. I have commented on this idea while discussing Pikudei. Thinking and reworking the ideas has given me many more insights into it than I have recorded, and I hope that it will provide the opportunity for readers as well to consider and comment on the material. That is what Torah is about. It is a living document as long as we make it live by delving into it.

I have benefited greatly from this effort, and I hope you will gain a small part of the bounty I have derived from it.