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Author Archives: yishmaelgunzhard

Israel cuenta con 23,645 víctimas del terrorismo desde 1860

Después de que Israel se uniera para recordar el asesinato de seis millones de judíos durante Iom Hashoá (Día de Recuerdo del Holocausto), el país se prepara para conmemorar Iom Hazikaron (Día de los Caídos en el cumplimiento del deber, junto con víctimas de ataques terroristas desde la fundación del sionismo).

Desde el último Día de los Caídos, se han agregaron 71 nombres de personal de seguridad a la lista. Treinta veteranos de las Fuerzas de Defensa de Israel (FDI) que quedaron con discapacidades por los ataques y que murieron como resultado de su condición también se sumaron al número de muertos.

En total, el número de israelíes caídos en el cumplimiento del deber desde 1860 es de 23.645.

Según las últimas cifras, publicadas por la División de Familia y Conmemoración del Ministerio de Defensa, hay 8.929 padres de duelo que viven actualmente en Israel y 4.849 de las FDI y del personal de seguridad.

El Instituto Nacional de Seguros de Israel afirmó esta mañana que los civiles asesinados en actividades enemigas desde que Israel declaró su independencia en 1948 se encuentra hoy en 3.134.

El número incluye 122 ciudadanos extranjeros, que fueron asesinados en ataques terroristas en Israel y 100 israelíes que fueron asesinados en el extranjero.

El año pasado, desde el Día de la Independencia, 12 civiles fueron asesinados. La última persona asesinada fue Adiel Kolman, un israelí de 32 años que fue apuñalado en la Ciudad Vieja de Jerusalem el 18 de marzo en un ataque terrorista.

Los ataques terroristas del enemigo dejaron 3.175 huérfanos, entre ellos 114 que perdieron a ambos padres y 822 viudas y viudos.

Según tomado de, http://diariojudio.com/noticias/israel-cuenta-con-23-645-victimas-del-terrorismo-desde-1860/267848/

 
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Posted by on April 14, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

La victoria póstuma de Hitler: el 22% de los «millennials» no conocen los brutales asesinatos nazis

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Un estudio encargado por «The Conference on Jewish Material Claims Against Germany» ha puesto de manifiesto que uno de cada cinco jóvenes estadounidenses no ha oído hablar del Holocausto. En los adultos, el porcentaje se reduce al 11%

MADRIDActualizado:

Afirma el dicho (pues a día de hoy se desconoce su autor) que «el pueblo que no conoce su historia está condenado a repetirla». Esperemos que no ya que, según los datos ofrecidos por «Schoen Consulting» en un estudio encargado por «The Conference on Jewish Material Claims Against Germany», un 22% de los «millennials» norteamericanos (más de la quinta parte de esta generación) desconoce que Adolf Hitler acabó con más de seis millones de judíos en la Segunda Guerra Mundial.

La tragedia no acaba aquí. Y es que, los tentáculos del olvido llegan también hasta el 11% de los adultos, un porcentaje que afirma no haber oído jamás hablar del Holocausto o no estar seguro de lo que es. Estos datos han sido ofrecidos también por el mencionado y revelador estudio, que fue publicado el pasado jueves durante el Día de la Memoria del Holocausto en Israel.

El hecho es más que preocupante si consideramos que no han pasado todavía ni 75 años desde que finalizó la Segunda Guerra Mundial y todavía hay supervivientes de la barbarie nazi vivos.

Los jóvenes, más desinformados

Según desvela la «CBS» en su página web, el estudio ha arrojado otros datos estremecedores como que el 41% de los «millennials» está convencido de que el nazismo asesinó a dos millones de judíos en los campos de exterminio, cuando la cifra es realmente de seis millones (y algunos autores la elevan hasta ocho o diez).

A su vez, el 33% de los jóvenes estadounidenses no supieron explicar a los encuestadores qué era Auschwitz, un brutal centro de exterminio de la Segunda Guerra Mundial en el que se llegaron a asesinar (atendiendo a las fuentes) hasta un total de 10.000 personas en los días más tristemente prolíficos.

«La encuesta ha hallado lagunas críticas tanto en la conciencia de los hechos básicos como en el conocimiento detallado del Holocausto», ha afirmado en un comunicado la asociación.

Adultos, más pasivos

Las cifras de desconocimiento se reducen en los adultos. Aunque la mayoría de los encuestados dentro de esta franja de edad (el 70%) afirmó estar de acuerdo con una declaración que decía que «las personas se preocupan menos por el Holacausto de lo que debían hacerlo».

A su vez, el 58% se mostró preocupado por considerar que era factible que una barbaridad como tal volviese a sucederse.

El estudio sobre la conciencia y el conocimiento del Holocausto en los EEUU se llevó a cabo entre el 23 y el 27 de febrero e involucró a 1.350 entrevistados. Todos ellos, estadounidenses mayores de 18 años.

«Este estudio subraya la importancia de la educación sobre el Holocausto en nuestras escuelas. Sigue habiendo lagunas preocupantes en la conciencia del Holocausto. Y eso, a pesar de que los supervivientes todavía están con nosotros. Imaginad cuando ya no hay supervivientes aquí para contar sus historias», ha explicado en un comunicado Greg Schneider, vicepresidente ejecutivo de la «Claims Conference».

Segun tomado de, http://www.abc.es/historia/abci-victoria-postuma-hitler-22-por-ciento-millenials-no-conocen-brutales-asesinatos-nazis-201804131234_noticia.html

 

 
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Posted by on April 13, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

The Power of Praise

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Rabbi Jonathan Sacks

From time to time couples come to see me before their wedding. Sometimes they ask me whether I have any advice to give them as to how to make their marriage strong. In reply I give them a simple suggestion. It is almost magical in its effects. It will make their relationship strong and in other unexpected ways it will transform their lives.

They have to commit themselves to the following ritual. Once a day, usually at the end of the day, they must each praise the other for something the other has done that day, no matter how small: an act, a word, a gesture that was kind or sensitive or generous or thoughtful. The praise must be focused on that one act, not generalised. It must be genuine: it must come from the heart. And the other must learn to accept the praise.

That is all they have to do. It takes at most a minute or two. But it has to be done, not sometimes, but every day. I learned this in a most unexpected way.

I have written before about the late Lena Rustin: one of the most remarkable people I have ever met. She was a speech therapist specialising in helping stammering children. She founded the Michael Palin Centre for Stammering in London, and she had a unique approach to her work. Most speech therapists focus on speaking and breathing techniques, and on the individual child (those she worked with were on average around five years old). Lena did more. She focused on relationships, and worked with parents, not just children.

Her view was that to cure a stammer, she had to do more than help the child to speak fluently. She had to change the entire family environment. Families tend to create an equilibrium. If a child stammers, everyone in the family adjusts to it. Therefore if the child is to lose its stammer, all the relationships within the family will have to be renegotiated. Not only must the child change. So must everyone else.

But change at that basic level is hard. We tend to settle into patterns of behaviour until they become comfortable like a well-worn armchair. How do you create an atmosphere within a family that encourages change and makes it unthreatening? The answer, Lena discovered, was praise. She told the families with which she was working that every day they must catch each member of the family doing something right, and say so, specifically, positively and sincerely. Every member of the family, but especially the parents, had to learn to give and receive praise.

Watching her at work I began to realise that she was creating, within each home, an atmosphere of mutual respect and continuous positive reinforcement. She believed that this would generate self-confidence not just for the stammering child but for all members of the family. The result would be an environment in which people felt safe to change and to help others do so likewise.

I filmed Lena’s work for a documentary I made for BBC television on the state of the family in Britain. I also interviewed some of the parents whose children she had worked with. When I asked them whether Lena had helped their child, not only did each of them say ‘Yes’ but they went on to say that she had helped save their marriage. This was extraordinary. She was, after all, not a marriage guidance counsellor but a speech therapist. Yet so powerful was this one simple ritual that it had massive beneficial side effects, one of which was to transform the relationship between husbands and wives.

I mention this for two reasons, one obvious, the other less so. The obvious reason is that the sages were puzzled about the major theme of Tazria-Metzora, the skin disease known as tsaraat. Why, they wondered, should the Torah focus at such length on such a condition? It is, after all, not a book of medicine, but of law, morality and spirituality.

The answer they gave was that tsaraat was a punishment for lashon hara: evil, hateful or derogatory speech. They cited the case of Miriam who spoke negatively about her brother Moses and was struck by tsaraat for seven days (Num. 12). They also pointed to the incident when at the burning bush Moses spoke negatively about the Israelites and his hand was briefly affected by tsaraat (Ex. 4:1-7).

The sages spoke more dramatically about lashon hara than any other offence. They said that it was as bad as committing all three cardinal sins: idolatry, incest and murder. They said that it kills three people: the one who says it, the one he says it about and the one who listens to it.[1] And in connection with Tazria-Metsora, they said that the punishment fitted the sin. One who speaks lashon hara creates dissension within the camp. Therefore his punishment as a metsora (a person stricken with tsaraat) was to be temporarily banished from the camp.[2]

So far, so clear. Don’t gossip (Lev. 19:16). Don’t slander. Don’t speak badly about people. Judaism has a rigorous and detailed ethics of speech because it believes that “Life and death are in the power of the tongue” (Prov. 18:21). Judaism is a religion of the ear more than the eye; of words rather than images. God created the natural world with words and we create or damage the social world with words. We do not say, “sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never harm me.” To the contrary, words can cause emotional injuries that are as painful as physical ones, perhaps more so.

So Lena Rustin’s rule of praise is the opposite of lashon hara. It is lashon hatov: good, positive, encouraging speech. According to Maimonides, to speak in praise of people is part of the command to “love your neighbour as yourself.”[3] That is straightforward.

But at a deeper level, there is a reason why it is hard to cure people of lashon hara, and harder still to cure them of gossip in general. The American sociologist Samuel Heilman wrote an incisive book, Synagogue Life, about a Modern Orthodox congregation of which, for some years, he was a member.[4] He devotes an entire lengthy chapter to synagogue gossip. Giving and receiving gossip, he says, is more or less constitutive of being part of the community. Not gossiping defines you as an outsider.

Gossip, he says, is part of “a tight system of obligatory exchange.” The person who scorns gossip completely, declining to be either donor or recipient, at the very least “risks stigmatisation” and at the worst “excludes himself from a central activity of collective life and sociability.” In short, gossip is the lifeblood of community.

Now, not only Heilman but probably every adult member of the community knew full well that gossip is biblically forbidden and that negative speech, lashon hara, is among the gravest of all sins. They also knew the damage caused by someone who gives more gossip than he or she receives. They used the Yiddish word for such a person: a yenta. Yet despite this, argued Heilman, the shul was in no small measure a system for the creation and distribution of gossip.

Synagogue Life was published 20 years before Oxford anthropologist Robin Dunbar’s famous book, Grooming, Gossip and the Evolution of Language.[5] Dunbar’s argument is that, in nature, groups are held together by devoting a considerable amount of time to building relationships and alliances. Non-human primates do this by “grooming,” stroking and cleaning one another’s skin (hence the expression, “If you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours”). But this is very time-consuming and puts a limit on the size of the group.

Humans developed language as a more effective form of grooming. You can only stroke one animal or person at a time, but you can talk to several at a time. The specific form of language that bonds a group together, says Dunbar, is gossip – because this is the way members of the group can learn who to trust and who not to. So gossip is not one form of speech among others. According to Dunbar, it is the most primal of all uses of speech. It is why humans developed language in the first place. Heilman’s account of synagogue life fits perfectly into this pattern. Gossip creates community, and community is impossible without gossip.

If this is so, it explains why the prohibitions against gossip and lashon hara are so often honoured in the breach, not the observance. So common is lashon hara that one of the giants of modern Jewry, R. Yisrael Meir ha-Cohen (the Chofetz Chaim) devoted much of his life to combatting it. Yet it persists, as anyone who has ever been part of a human group knows from personal experience. You can know it is wrong, yet you and others do it anyway.

This is why I found Lena Rustin’s work to have such profound spiritual implications. Her work had nothing to do with gossip, but without intending to she had discovered one of the most powerful antidotes to lashon hara ever invented. She taught people to develop the habit of speaking well of one another. She taught them to praise, daily, specifically and sincerely. Anyone who uses Lena’s technique for a prolonged period will be cured of lashon hara. It is the most effective antidote I know.

What is more, her technique transforms relationships and saves marriages. It heals what lashon hara harms. Evil speech destroys relationships. Good speech mends them. This works not only in marriages and families, but also in communities, organisations and businesses. So: in any relationship that matters to you, deliver praise daily. Seeing and praising the good in people makes them better people, makes you a better person, and strengthens the bond between you. This really is a life-changing idea.

Shabbat Shalom.

[1] Maimonides, Hilkhot Deot 7:3.

[2] Arakhin 16b.

[3] Maimonides, Hilkhot Deot 6:3. Elsewhere I have dealt with the problem of the passage in Arakhin 16a that says that one should not speak in praise of others in case this leads others to disagree. For the different views of Rashi and Rambam on this, see Covenant and Conversation, Leviticus: The Book of Holiness, Maggid, 2015, 223-27.

[4] Samuel Heilman, Synagogue Life: A Study in Symbolic Interaction, University of Chicago Press, 1976, 151–192.

[5] Robin Dunbar, Grooming, Gossip and the Evolution of Language, London, Faber, 1997.

As taken from, http://rabbisacks.org/power-praise-tazria-metsorah-5778/

 
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Posted by on April 12, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

Yom HaShoah – Jewish Life or Merely Israeli Life?

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Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai or A.B. Yehoshua?

In one of its most dramatic texts, the Talmud[1] discusses an episode that was perhaps the most decisive moment in Jewish history prior to the Holocaust. It took place in the first century C.E. just as the Second Temple was to be destroyed by the Romans, who were then occupying the land. Tens of thousands of Jews were killed and there was no longer any food. A widespread sense of despair pervaded the community, and it seemed as if there would be no future for the Jewish people, as the Romans had decided on a “final solution.”

There were only two choices: to surrender and live, or to fight and surely die. Defeating the Romans was no longer an option. Their numbers and their determination to end all Jewish life were too much for the weak and exhausted Jews.

It was left to one man to decide their fate. Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai, the Sage and unchallenged Jewish leader of his day, was fully aware that surrender would save many lives, but at the same time would be the end of the Jewish nation. The Romans would force the Jews to assimilate and adopt their way of living. The Chosen People and its unique mission would cease to exist, causing not only the Jews to pay a heavy price but also the world at large. There would no longer be anyone around to stand up and fight for moral values, human dignity, and the knowledge of God. In his eyes, the world would become a place of immense moral pain, destruction, and ongoing disaster.

At that crucial hour, Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai made a decision that was as risky as it was courageous. That decision, against all logic, led to an unparalleled victory, which miraculously saved the Jews and consequently the moral fiber of mankind. Rabbi Yochanan instructed his pupils to smuggle him out of Yerushalayim in a coffin and bring him to the soon-to-be Roman emperor, Vespasian. When asked by the despot why he came to see him, Rabbi Yochanan, realizing that any major request would fall on deaf ears, asked him for one favor: “Give me Yavne and its Sages.”[2] Vespasian, not realizing that the town of Yavne held the core of the Jewish Sages of its time, and therefore the vitality of Judaism’s spiritual power, readily agreed to this plea. And it was this minor request that saved Judaism from oblivion. Because Judaism had been rescued, Christianity was later able to bring some of the major Jewish and monotheistic values to the Roman Empire. This was probably one of the main causes of Rome’s downfall.

What made Rabbi Yochanan believe that the Jews and Judaism would survive once he guaranteed the continuous existence of Yavne and its Sages? It was his realization that the Jews possessed a religious tradition that, if necessary, would function beyond time and space. He understood that even if the Jews were robbed of their homeland, they would still be able to continue living as Jews and somehow, by the skin of their teeth, keep Judaism alive. But only as long as Jewish learning would continue to flourish and the study of Torah would be emphasized. It would be very risky and the price would be enormous, but it would work.

Almost 1900 years later, Heinrich Heine powerfully expressed this idea when he claimed that the secret to Jewish survival is found in the concept of their “portable homeland”—the Torah—which they carry with them, inhabiting it when the physical homeland is lost. Many years later, George Steiner made a similar observation when he called the Torah “our homeland, the text.”[3]

Rabbi Yochanan was convinced that interaction with this divine text would enable the Jewish people to continue, while any other nation would capitulate under similar circumstances. If necessary, it would carry the Jewish people beyond the physical need for a homeland.

In May 2006, giving a highly controversial talk at the American Jewish Committee’s Centennial Symposium in Washington, A.B. Yehoshua, one of Israel’s most celebrated authors, made some important remarks about the contemporary Jewish scene. However, he also made some extremely dubious statements about Jewish life in Israel and the Diaspora.

He reminded his audience that “the Zionist solution, which was proven as the best solution to the Jewish problem before the Holocaust, was tragically missed by the Jewish people.” He pointed out that after the Balfour Declaration of 1917, “if during the 1920s, when the country’s gates were open wide, just a half-million Jews had come (less than 5 percent of the Jewish People at that time) instead of the tiny number that actually did come, it certainly would have been possible to establish a Jewish state before the Holocaust….This state not only would have ended the Israeli-Arab conflict at an earlier stage and with less bloodshed—it also could have provided refuge in the 1930s to hundreds of thousands of Eastern European Jews who sensed the gathering storm.”[4]

While this opinion could be challenged as wishful thinking, there is much truth in Yehoshua’s belief that if the Jews had taken the threat of radical anti-Semitism more seriously, and if a more determined effort had been made to establish the State of Israel at an earlier time, many Jews would have been saved.

But Yehoshua did not leave it at that. He continued and said, “For me, Avraham Yehoshua, there is no alternative. I cannot keep my identity outside Israel… [Being] Israeli is my skin, not my jacket. You [Diaspora Jews] are changing jackets; you are changing countries like changing jackets. I have my skin, the territory [of Israel].”[5] He then continued to claim that outside of Israel one cannot live a full Jewish life, and implied that the most secular Israeli in Israel was living a more Jewish life than his Orthodox brothers in Toronto or Brooklyn.

While I definitely agree that Israel is the only place in the world where one can live a full Jewish life, it is extremely naïve, and even ludicrous, to claim that secular Israelis are living a more Jewish life purely because they live in the State of Israel, surrounded by fellow Jews, governed by a Jewish Government, and protected by a Jewish army. It is true that in Israel, Jewish culture is not a subculture, and Judaism can flourish more in this country than in any other. But that does not mean that Israel is a Jewish country simply because the majority of its residents are Israelis.

Yehoshua is confusing two things. Being Israeli is not identical to being Jewish. Indeed, to be an Israeli one needs to live in the land, and when the land ceases to exist, being Israeli no longer has any meaning.

But, as Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai correctly understood, if need be, it is possible to remain a Jew—although surely not a complete one—without living in Israel. Yehoshua does not seem to understand that there would never have been a State of Israel if not for the fact that his own grandparents continued to live a Jewish life in the Diaspora. Had they and their contemporaries lived an exclusively non-Jewish life, there would no longer have been any Jews and no State of Israel would ever have been established.

What Rabbi Yochanan taught us is that Jews will survive without Israel, as long as there is Torah, the portable homeland; but Jews will not survive solely because of the existence of Israel—however powerful it may be—if Israel does not incorporate a large percentage of Jewish traditional resources. To believe that Jews will survive only because of Israel is an absurd claim that has no foundation in Jewish history or reality. The famous Jewish philosopher Eliezer Berkovits made this extremely clear when he said, “There is no Israeli claim to the land; there can only be a Jewish claim. Where there is no continuity, there can be no return.”[6]

Happily, a large number of Israelis realize this, and although many of them are not Orthodox or even religious, they try hard to bring some inner Jewishness to their lives and observe some traditions, because they know that Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai was right and A.B. Yehoshua is wrong.


Notes:

[1] For the full story see Gittin 56a-b.

[2] Ibid.

[3] George Steiner, “Our Homeland, the Text,” Salmagundi, No. 66 (Winter-Spring 1985) pp. 4-25.

[4] See A.B. Yehoshua, “People Without a Land,” Haaretz, May 11, 2006.

[5] The Jerusalem Post, UpFront Magazine, May 12, 2006, p.12.

[6] Eliezer Berkovits, Crisis and Faith [NY: Sanhedrin Press, 1976] p. 138.

As taken from, https://www.cardozoacademy.org/thoughts-to-ponder/yom-hashoah-jewish-life-or-just-israeli-life/?utm_source=Subscribers&utm_campaign=7608304389-Weekly_Thoughts_to_Ponder_campaign_TTP_548&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_dd05790c6d-7608304389-242341409

 
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Posted by on April 12, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

Sin Is Not What It Seems

Sin Is Not What It Seems

The word “sin” has no connection with endless guilt and eternal damnation. But it does have a lot to do with archery.

by

One of the most commonly mistranslated Hebrew words is chait, which we usually see translated as “sin.”

Sin is one of those words we tend to find repellant.Many of us grew up in non-Jewish societies and as a result of that influence we think of sin as some horrible evil, connected with endless guilt, eternal damnation and a host of other associations that are equally unpalatable.

Does chait really mean that?

No.

The meaning of the word is usually defined by the context of how it is used.So for example, In the Book of Judges (20:16), slingers from the tribe of Benjamin are described as being so good with their weapon that they can “aim at a hair and not chait.

Could this mean to “aim at a hair and not sin“? It makes no sense.

Could this mean to “aim at a hair and not sin”? It makes no sense. Obviously the text means to aim at a hair and not “miss,” i.e. not to hit off target.

Another example is in the Book of Kings I (1:21). King David is on his death bed and his wife, Bathsheba, comes to him and says, “If Solomon does not become king after you then Solomon and I will be chataim.” Solomon and Bathsheba will be sinners? It means that Solomon and Bathsheba will not reach their potential, will not make the grade, will not measure up.

A third example: The Hebrew for one of the many sacrificial offering is chatot, from the same root as the word chait. This offering — called in English a “sin offering” — can only be brought for something done unintentionally.In fact, if a person purposely committed a violation, he is forbidden to bring a chatot. It is truly a “mistake offering” rather than a “sin offering.”

“Off target,” “not reaching the mark,” “mistake,” and “unintentional” are all indications that the word chait does not mean “sin.”

A more accurate translation of the Hebrew chait is “error” or “mistake.”

A more accurate translation of the Hebrew chait is “error” or “mistake.”

People don’t “sin.” People make mistakes. After all, we are human. And the Jewish way is to learn from our mistakes. We apologize, clean up any mess, and move on with life.

Of course, there can be real ramifications to our mistakes.

If a glass of milk is dropped, the milk is gone and the glass is shattered. So what do we do?

We deal with the fallout and fix what we can. Our amends may include a sincere apology, removing the shards, getting the carpet cleaned and buying a new bottle of milk. But we do not become steeped in guilt over our “sin.”

Note that there are other words in Hebrew which are also mistranslated as “sin,” but which convey a more serious misdeed than an error.To cite two examples: avon, refers to willful, knowing transgression of God’s law where one’s desires get the upper hand; pesha, refers to a willful transgression done specifically to spite God.

However, the most common word translated as “sin” is chait. The “sin” of Adam and Eve was chait, a mistake.

So many of the concepts we may have in our minds may really not be Jewish at all. Taking a fresh look can give us great insights and clarity — and tips to make our lives more meaningful.

As taken from, http://www.aish.com/jl/p/ph/48964596.html

 
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Posted by on April 10, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

The Mysterious Death of Nadab and Abihu

A central event in the Parshah of Shemini is the death of Aaron’s two elder sons, Nadav (Nadab)and Avihu (Abihu), who “offered a strange fire before G‑d, which He had not commanded”—the result being that “a fire went out from G‑d and consumed them, and they died before G‑d.”1

There is much in the Torah’s account, and in the words of our sages, that implies that Nadav and Avihu’s act of was not a “sin” per se. The Torah records Moses’ words to Aaron immediately following the tragedy: “This is what G‑d spoke, saying: ‘I shall be sanctified by those who are close to Me.’”2 Rashi, citing the Talmud and Midrash, explains his meaning:

Moses said to Aaron, “When G‑d said, ‘I shall be sanctified by those close to Me,’ I thought it referred to me or you; now I see that they are greater then both of us.”

Rabbi Chaim ibn Attar writes in his commentary, Ohr Hachaim, on this verse:

[Theirs was] a death by Divine “kiss” like that experienced by the perfectly righteous—it is only that the righteous die when the Divine “kiss” approaches them, while they died by their approaching it . . . Although they sensed their own demise, this did not prevent them from drawing near [to G‑d] in attachment, delight, delectability, fellowship, love, kissing and sweetness, to the point that their souls ceased from them.

The chassidic masters explain that life—the retention of a spiritual soul within a physical body—entails a tenuous balance between two powerful forces in the soul: ratzo (striving, running away) and shov (return, settling). Ratzo is the soul’s striving for transcendence, its yearning to tear free of the entanglements of material life and achieve a self-nullifying reunion with its Creator and Source. At the same time, however, every human soul is also possesses shov—a will for actualization, a commitment to live a physical life and make an imprint upon a physical world.

Thus the verse calls the soul of man “a lamp of G‑d.”3 The lamp’s flame surges upwards, as if to tear free from the wick and lose itself in the great expanses of energy that gird the heavens. But even as it strains heavenward, the flame is also pulling back, tightening its grip on the wick and drinking thirstily of the oil in the lamp that sustains its continued existence as an individual flame. And it is this tension of conflicting energies, this vacillation from being to dissolution and back again, that produces light.

So, too, with the soul of man. The striving to escape physical life is checked by the will to be and to achieve, which is in turn checked by the striving for spirituality and transcendence. When a person’s involvements with the world threaten to overwhelm him and make him their prisoner, the soul’s ratzo resists this by awakening his inherent desire to connect with his source in G‑d; and when a person’s spirituality threatens to carry him off to the sublime yonder, the soul’s shov kicks in, arousing a desire for physical life and worldly achievement. Together, the conflict and collision of these two drives produce a flame that illuminates its surroundings with a G‑dly light: a life that escapes the pull of earth even as it interacts with it and develops it in harmony with the soul’s spiritual vision.

So the “Divine fire” that consumed the souls of Nadav and Avihu is the very fire that is intrinsic to every soul: the soul’s burning desire to tear free of the physical trappings that distance it from its Source. Nadav and Avihu “came close to G‑d” by indulging and fueling their soul’s ratzo the point that it overpowered its shov, and they broke free of the “cycle” of life. Thus their souls literally severed their connection with their bodies and were utterly consumed in ecstatic reunion with G‑d.

This, however, was a “strange fire,” a fire that “G‑d had not commanded.” Man was not created to consume his material being in a fire of spiritual ecstasy. Although He imbued our souls with the drive for self-transcendence, G‑d wants us to anchor our fervor to reality. He wants us to “settle” this yearning within our physical self, to absorb it and make it part of our everyday life and experience.

Following the deaths of Nadav and Avihu, G‑d specifically commanded that their example should not be repeated:

And G‑d spoke to Moses after the death of Aaron’s two sons, who came close to G‑d and died: “. . . Speak to Aaron your brother, that he come not at all times into the Holy . . . so that he die not . . .”4

The Lubavitcher Rebbe adds: The purpose of this Divine command was not to limit the degree of self-transcendence and closeness to G‑d attainable by man. On the contrary, this commandment empowered us to accommodate, as a physically alive human beings, the very fire that consumed the souls of Nadav and Avihu. Hence the “strange fire” of Aaron’s two sons was also “strange” in a positive sense: an unprecedented act that introduced opened a new vista in man’s service of G‑d.

This, says the Rebbe, is the meaning of a remark attributed to the founder of the Chassidic movement, Rabbi Israel Baal Shem Tov: “It is only out of a great kindness on the part of the Almighty that one remains alive after prayer.”5

Prayer is the endeavor to transcend the enmeshments of material life and come close to one’s essence and source in G‑d. When a person truly achieves this closeness—when he truly prays—he can experience an attachment to G‑d of the magnitude that “released” the souls of Nadav and Avihu. But G‑d has enabled us (in the very act of commanding us to do so) to incorporate such sublime experiences into our daily, humanly defined lives.

So life’s constant to-and-fro movement is more than a cycle that runs from existence to oblivion and back. It is, rather, an upward spiral: man escapes his finite self, but is driven back to make his transcendent achievements an integral part of his individual being; brought back to earth, his “escapist” nature now reasserts itself, compelling him to reach beyond the horizon of his new, expanded self as well; transcending his new self, his shov once again draws him back to reality.

Back and forth, upward and on, the flame of man dances, his two most basic drives conspiring to propel him to bridge ever wider gulfs between transcendence and immanence, between the ideal and the real.

Footnotes
1.Leviticus 10:1–2.
2. Ibid. 10:3.
3.Proverbs 20:27.
4.Leviticus 16:1–2.
5. Keter Shem Tov, sec. 168.
 
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Posted by on April 10, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

Reticencia versus impetuosidad

Tendría que haber sido un día de alegría, pero ocurrió una tragedia.

Tendría que haber sido un día de alegría: los israelitas habían terminado el mishkán, el santuario. Durante siete días, Moshé había hecho las preparaciones para su consagración1 y ahora, en el octavo día –el primero de Nisan,2 a un año del día en el que los israelitas recibieran la primera orden, dos semanas antes del éxodo– el servicio del santuario estaba por comenzar. Los sabios decían que en el cielo era el día de mayor alegría desde la creación.3

Pero irrumpió la tragedia. Los dos hijos mayores de Aarón “ofrecieron ante Di-s fuego extraño, que él no les había ordenado”,4 y el fuego del cielo, que debería haber consumido los sacrificios, los consumió también a ellos, y murieron. La alegría de Aarón se convirtió en luto. Vaidom Aarón: “Y Aarón permaneció en silencio”.5 El hombre que había sido el vocero de Moshé no podía hablar más. En su boca, las palabras se convirtieron en cenizas.

En esta historia hay mucho para entender sobre el concepto de santidad y las poderosas energías que liberó, energías que, como la nuclear hoy en día, pueden ser mortalmente peligrosas si no se usan adecuadamente. Pero también hay una historia mucho más humana, un relato sobre dos enfoques distintos de liderazgo que aún nos resulta familiar.

Primero está la historia de Aarón: Moshé le dijo que debía ocupar el rol de sumo sacerdote. “[Entonces] Moshé le dijo a Aarón: ‘Aproxímate al altar y prepara tu ofrenda por el pecado y tu holocausto, haciendo de este modo expiación por ti y por el pueblo. Luego prepara la ofrenda por el pueblo, para hacer expiación por ellos, como lo ha ordenado Di-s”.6

Los sabios han entendido que las palabras “Aproxímate al altar” tienen algunos matices, como si Aarón estuviera a cierta distancia de él, reacio a acercarse. Ellos dicen: “Al comienzo, Aarón estaba avergonzado y temía aproximarse al altar. Moshé le dijo: ‘No estés avergonzado. Para esto fuiste elegido’”.7

¿Por qué Aarón estaba avergonzado? Según la tradición, hay dos explicaciones, ambas propuestas por el Ramban en sus comentarios a la Torá. La primera es que Aarón estaba sobrepasado por el miedo de acercarse a una presencia divina. Los rabinos lo relacionan con el nerviosismo que siente la novia del rey al entrar por primera vez al cuarto matrimonial. La segunda asegura que al ver los “cuernos” del altar, Aarón recordó al becerro de oro, su gran pecado. ¿Cómo podría él, que había tenido un rol clave en ese terrible acontecimiento, participar ahora en la expiación de los pecados del pueblo? Eso seguramente requería de una inocencia con la que él ya no contaba. Moshé tuvo que recordarle que el altar se había hecho para, precisamente, expiar los pecados, y que si él había sido elegido por Di-s para ser sumo sacerdote, era una prueba inequívoca de que había sido perdonado.

Hay, quizás, una tercera explicación, tal vez menos espiritual. Hasta ese momento, Aarón había sido siempre el segundo de Moshé en todos los aspectos: había estado a su lado ayudándolo a hablar y a liderar. Pero hay una vasta diferencia psicológica entre ser el segundo en el mando y un líder por derecho propio. Hay muchos ejemplos de personas que tienen una facilidad para servir o asistir a otros pero que están aterrorizadas ante la perspectiva de liderar.

Cualquiera sea la explicación –y tal vez todas sean verdaderas– Aarón tenía reticencia a asumir su nuevo rol y Moshé tuvo que hacerlo sentir seguro. “Para esto fuiste elegido”.

La otra historia es la trágica, la de los dos hijos de Aarón, Nadav y Avihú, que “ofrecieron ante Di-s fuego extraño, que él no les había ordenado”. Los sabios tienen distintas lecturas de este episodio, todas basadas en una atenta lectura de las distintas partes de la Torá en las que se hace mención a sus muertes. Algunos dicen que pueden haber estado tomando alcohol;8 otros dicen que eran arrogantes y se sentían por encima de su comunidad. Esta era la razón por la que nunca se habían casado.9

Algunos dicen que eran culpables de haber determinado las leyes halájicas que gobiernan el uso del fuego hecho por el hombre en vez de consultar a su maestro Moshé si esto estaba permitido.10 Otros aseguran que estaban inquietos con la presencia de Moshé y Aarón y se preguntaban cuándo se iban a morir esos dos ancianos para poder liderar la congregación.11

Sea cual sea la lectura que se haga de este episodio, parece claro que estaban muy ansiosos por ejercer el liderazgo. Se dejaron llevar por el entusiasmo de participar en la inauguración e hicieron algo que no les habían ordenado. En definitiva, ¿Moshé no había roto las tablas por iniciativa propia al bajar del monte y ver al becerro de oro? Si él había podido actuar espontáneamente, ¿por qué ellos no?

Ellos se olvidaron de la diferencia entre un profeta y un sacerdote: mientras que el primero vive y actúa en el tiempo –en ese momento que es igual a los demás–, el segundo actúa y vive en la eternidad, dado que respeta un conjunto de reglas que nunca cambian. Todo lo que tiene que ver con “lo sagrado”, el ámbito del sacerdote, está establecido de antemano. Lo sagrado es el lugar en el que Di-s decide, no los hombres.

Nadav y Avihú no entendieron que existen distintos tipos de liderazgo, que no son intercambiables y lo que es apropiado para uno puede ser radicalmente inapropiado para otro. Un juez no es un político, un rey no es un primer ministro, y un líder religioso no es una celebridad en busca de fama. Confundir estos roles no sólo llevará al fracaso, sino que también dañará lo que se debería proteger.

El verdadero contraste, sin embargo, está en la diferencia entre Aarón y sus dos hijos; ellos eran, al parecer, opuestos. Aarón era demasiado precavido y tuvo que ser persuadido por Moshé, mientras que Nadav y Avihú no eran lo suficientemente cautos. Estaban tan interesados en ponerle su propia estampa al rol del sacerdocio que fueron traicionados por su propia impetuosidad.

Estos son los dos desafíos que, eternamente, deben superar los líderes. El primero es el de la reticencia a liderar: ¿por qué yo? ¿Por qué debería involucrarme? ¿Por qué debería asumir la responsabilidad y todo lo que eso conlleva –el estrés, el trabajo duro y las críticas que los líderes siempre tienen que enfrentar–? Además, hay otras personas más calificadas y más apropiadas que yo.

Incluso los más grandes fueron reacios al liderazgo. Frente a la zarza ardiente, Moshé encontró muchas razones que le mostraban que él no era el hombre apropiado para ese trabajo. Ieshaiau e Irmiahu se sintieron incompetentes. Ioná huyó en cuanto fue convocado a liderar. El desafío es enorme, pero cuando nos llaman para cumplir una tarea, si sabemos que la misión es necesaria e importante, no hay más que decir Hineni, “Aquí estoy”. O en las palabras de un famoso libro: “Aunque tenga miedo, hágalo igual”.12

El otro desafío es el opuesto: hay personas que se ven como líderes y que están convencidas de que pueden hacerlo mejor. En este sentido, se puede recordar la famosa frase del primer presidente israelí, Jaim Weizmann, en la que afirmaba que él era el presidente de un país de un millón de presidentes.

A la distancia parece fácil; ¿acaso no es obvio que el líder debe hacer X y no Y? El homo sapiens cuenta con muchos conductores que viajan en el asiento trasero y saben más que el que maneja. Pero si los ponemos en una posición de liderazgo pueden ocasionar grandes daños. Como nunca se sentaron en el asiento del conductor, no tienen idea de la cantidad de consideraciones que se deben tener en cuenta, o de cuántas voces de oposición tienen que dejar de lado, ni de lo difícil que es soportar las presiones sin perder de vista los ideales y los objetivos de largo plazo. El último John F. Kennedy dijo que el mayor shock de haber sido elegido presidente fue “llegar a la Casa Blanca y descubrir que las cosas estaban tan mal como decíamos que estaban”. Cuando la apuesta es alta, no hay nada que pueda preparar a un líder.

Los líderes demasiado confiados o entusiastas pueden hacer mucho daño. Antes de convertirse en líderes entendieron los hechos desde su propia perspectiva, pero no comprendieron que el liderazgo implica la relación de muchas perspectivas, de muchos grupos de interés y de distintos puntos de vista. Esto no quiere decir que se intente satisfacer a todos, porque los que lo intentan terminan sin satisfacer a nadie. Pero sí se debe consultar y persuadir. Algunas veces se deben honrar los precedentes y las tradiciones de determinada institución. Se debe saber con exactitud cuándo hay que comportarse como los predecesores y cuándo no. Esto requiere de un importante grado de criterio y no del entusiasmo salvaje que provoca el candor del momento.

Es probable que Nadav y Avihú fuesen grandes personas. El problema era justamente que se creían grandes personas. No como su padre Aarón, que tuvo que ser persuadido para dejar de lado su sentido de insuficiencia y acercarse al altar. Lo que Nadav y Avihú no tenían era registro de su propia incapacidad.13

Para hacer algo grandioso hay que evitar dos grandes tentaciones. El miedo a la grandeza es una: “¿quién soy?”. La otra es estar convencido de la propia grandeza: “¿quiénes son ellos? Yo puedo hacerlo mejor”. Se pueden hacer grandes cosas si a) la tarea importa más que la persona, b) está la intención de dar lo mejor de nosotros sin pensar que somos superiores a los demás, y c) hay predisposición para escuchar los consejos, aquello en lo que Nadav y Avihú fallaron.

Las personas no se convierten en líderes porque son excepcionales, sino porque están dispuestas a servir como líderes. No importa si nos consideramos incapaces, también así se sintieron Moshé y Aarón. Cuando surge un desafío, lo que importa es la voluntad de decir Hineni, “Aquí estoy”.

Notas al Pie
1. Como se describe en Shemot 40.
2. Ver Shemot 40:2.
3. Meguilá 10b.
4. Vaikrá 10:1.
5. Vaikrá 10:3.
6. Vaikrá 9:7.
7. Rashi sobre Vaikrá 9:7, citando a Sifra.
8. Vaikrá Rabá 12:1; Ramban sobre Vaikrá 10:9.
9. Vaikrá Rabá 20:10.
10. Eruvín 63a.
11. Sanedrín 52a.
12. Susan Jeffers, Feel the Fear and Do it Anyway, Nueva York, Ballantine Books, 2006 (hay edición castellana: Aunque tenga miedo, hágalo igual, Buenos Aires, Atlántida, 1989).
13. El compositor Berlioz dijo una vez sobre un joven músico: “Sabe todo. Lo único que le falta es inexperiencia”.
 
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Posted by on April 10, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

Fundamentally Freund: Demography and Jewish destiny

We are standing on the cusp of a tidal wave of return, one that will see countless Jewish descendants reconnect with Jewry. Let’s embrace this opportunity.

By Michael Freund
April 4, 2018 20:08

Fundamentally Freund: Demography and Jewish destiny

An ultra-Orthodox Jewish pilgrim blows a shofar, near the tomb of Rabbi Nachman of Breslov during the celebration of Rosh Hashanah holiday, the Jewish New Year, in Uman, Ukraine, September 21, 2017.. (photo credit: REUTERS)

The otherwise arcane subject of demography made quite a splash in recent days, thanks in no small measure to a courageous report prepared by a committee established by the Diaspora Affairs Ministry.

Tasked with exploring how the government should relate to millions of people around the world with Jewish ancestry, the committee did not shy away from tackling the crucial subject head on, offering a variety of practical recommendations to strengthen the connection between Israel and “lost Jews.” These included ideas ranging from encouraging more academic research on the subject to facilitating visits to the Jewish state by those with a historical connection with the people of Israel.
And while the panel’s suggestions have yet to be debated or approved by the cabinet, there is no understating the significance of this watershed moment.

The State of Israel has at last recognized the importance of grappling with an issue that activists such as myself have been pressing for years, which is the need to reach out to those who were once part of the Jewish people.

As the founder and chairman of Shavei Israel, which for the past 15 years has been at the forefront of helping Jewish descendants reconnect with our people and our land, I am proud to have been one of the first experts called before the committee after its establishment in 2016, which I enthusiastically supported.

Indeed, I can attest to the sea change that is taking place on a global scale, as people with Jewish roots from all walks of life are awakening to their heritage, with many – though not all – seeking a way back into the fold.

From the Jews of Kaifeng, China, whose Sephardic ancestors traveled along the Silk Road, to the Bnei Menashe of northeastern India, who claim descent from a lost tribe, to the hidden Jews of Poland from the Holocaust, a growing number of individuals and communities are exploring what it means that their forefathers were part of the people of Israel.

Perhaps the largest group of them all is the Bnei Anusim, whom historians refer to by the derogatory term “Marranos” and whose forebears were Spanish and Portuguese Jews forced to convert to Catholicism in the 14th and 15th centuries. Scholars estimate their numbers worldwide to be in the tens of millions. Genetic tests have revealed that 10% to 15% of Hispanic Americans have Jewish roots, while the percentage among Spaniards and Portuguese is even higher.

IF WE are wise enough to seize the opportunity and extend a hand to these communities, then in the coming decades we will witness the return of hundreds of thousands, and possibly more, to our ranks. This is not a form of “missionary activity.” After all, the idea is not to go out and convince the unconvinced, but rather to pry open the door to those who are already in the process of seeking us out. Not all will choose to do so, of course. But the very act of engaging with such people will create a greater affinity within them for Israel and Jewish causes, even if they prefer to remain committed Catholics in Madrid or proud Protestants in New Mexico.

By cultivating their identification with their Jewish roots, be it in a cultural, intellectual or spiritual manner, at a minimum we will expand the numbers of those who look warmly and sympathetically upon Jews and Israel.

But we can and should aim higher. Size does matter, whether in basketball, business or diplomacy. To make a difference in the world and to live up to our national mission as Jews, we need a much larger and more diverse “team” at our disposal, one with an expanded roster and a strong bench. In other words, we need more Jews.

Historians estimate that during the Herodian period two millennia ago, there were approximately eight million Jews worldwide. At the same time, the Han Dynasty conducted a census in the year 2 CE which found that there were 57.5 million Han Chinese. Jump ahead to the present, and the numbers are of course quite different, with China home to well over 1.1 billion people, even as world Jewry barely numbers more than 14 million souls.

During the 2,000 years of exile, we have lost countless numbers of Jews, whether through assimilation or oppression. Many of their descendants are now clamoring to return. This development is testimony to the power of Jewish memory and the inevitability of Jewish destiny.

The world is said to be growing smaller by the day thanks to the processes of globalization and growing economic and strategic interdependence. To thrive in this global village, the Jewish people will need Chinese Jews and Indian Jews no less than American and British ones.

This means that we not only need to do more to keep Jews Jewish, but we must also begin to think outside the box about how to boost our numbers.

So why not reach back into our collective past and reclaim those who were torn away from us due to exile and persecution? Many descendants of Jews are knocking on our door, asking to be allowed in. All we need do is turn the knob, pry open the entrance, and they will come. It is time to close the historical circle and restore “lost Jews” to our people.

We are standing on the cusp of a tidal wave of return, one that will see countless Jewish descendants reconnect with Jewry. Let’s embrace this opportunity. Demographically and spiritually, we will only be stronger for it.

The writer is founder and chairman of Shavei Israel (www.shavei.org), which assists lost tribes and other hidden Jewish communities to return to the Jewish people. He is the co-author of Do You Have Jewish Roots? that has been published in Spanish, Portuguese and Italian.

 
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Posted by on April 8, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

Are There Arabs Who Like Israel? The Answer is a Resounding Yes

Image result for Dr. Mordechai Kedar

Usually, I present my readers with a most depressing picture of the Arab and Muslim worlds. I find it unavoidable because the troubles tearing apart those two worlds are beyond description –  the last seven years alone have witnessed hundreds of thousands of people killed, and millions of women, children and the elderly turned into homeless, destitute and suffering refugees. Despite the Middle East’s enormous potential, its vast natural resources, panoramic vistas and unlimited opportunities, the entire region is in a state of pitiful collapse.

In the prevailing Middle Eastern discourse, the blame for all this chaos is placed squarely on the shoulders of one party – Israel, along with the colonialist regimes – mainly Britain and France – who brought the Jewish State into being.

Placing the blame only on Israel is easy to do, for several reasons:

a. It is easier for our neighbors to blame someone else for their terrible plight instead of taking a hard look at themselves in order to find the reasons for  their suffering;

b. Israel, neither Arab or Islamic, is considered an outsider in the region to begin with;

c. Israel is the work of Satan because Jews have no right to sovereignty and must be kept subjugated (with dhimmi status);

d. Israel gains the most from the surrounding chaos so it must have caused it, to begin with, and

e. Israel is successful while its neighbors are abject failures and therefore consumed by jealousy.

This anti-Israel stance is the rule in many of the populations making up the Middle East and includes heads of state, subjects, the intelligentsia and the ignorant, the religious and secular, elites and marginal persons, Muslims and members of other religions, Bedouin, villagers, rural folk and city dwellers.

It has become “bon ton” to talk negatively about Israel all over the Middle East, to the point where the Arabic word for normalization of relations with Israel has become a vulgar and negative word in Middle East discourse.

Over the last few years, however, a parallel conversation has emerged, one that is free of the conventional way of talking about Israel and that Is often dramatically different. It is hard to nail down those who participate in it, some are educated and secular, some are ordinary citizens, others members of the ruling class or the opposition, they include the religious and non-religious, Muslims and members of other faiths. The main thing they have in common is the ability to free themselves from accepted conventions and swim against the tide, willing to face criticism and to deal with it.

It is important to note that the social media available at just about everyone’s fingertips are the main force allowing the pro-Israel conversation to reach the wider public’s eyes and ears. Means of mass communication cannot be controlled completely by a government or any other entity, so they provide a public platform for people who wish to think independently and are not bound by the conventions surrounding them.

Just what are they saying? (Note: My comments are in parentheses, M.K.)

The first person quoted here is a Kuwaiti journalist named Abdallah Alhadlek. In an interview, he said:  “Whether we like it or not, Israel is a sovereign and independent state. It exists in reality, has a seat at the UN, and most peace-loving nations have recognized it. There is, of course, a group of nations that have not come to terms with Israel’s existence, but they are all despotic dictatorships.”

“Verse 21 in the Table Chapter of the Quran proves the Jewish right to the Holy Land: ‘So says the exalted God: Moses said to his people: My nation go into the Holy Land that Allah granted you.’ Accordingly, it is Allah who gave them the land and they did not steal it from anyone. In fact, the land was stolen by those who lived there before the Jews entered it. That is why I do not accept the outdated expressions like ‘thieving entity’ or ‘Zionist entity.’

“There is no Occupation, there is only a nation that returned to its promised land. The history of the Jews precedes Islam. As Muslims, it is our duty to recognize the right of the Jewish people to this land. In 1948, when Israel was established, there was no state called Palestine. There were people dispersed in different Arab countries, called Canaanites, Amalekites and by many other names.”

Another example is a very interesting woman named Nonie Darwish. She stems from Egypt where her father was an Egyptian Intelligence officer stationed in Gaza. During the 1950s he would send fedayeen – today’s terrorists – to attack Israel and murder, rob and destroy whatever they could get their hands on. One day Israel sent him the gift of a book which, when he opened it, exploded in his face and sent him to the place reserved in Hell for terrorists.

Noni understood that her father deserved the punishment he received for his cruelty to Israel and decided to leave Egypt, abandon Islam and convert to Christianity. Today she lives somewhere in the West and manages the ArabsForIsrael website. This is where she fights Islamic activities, the acceptance of Sharia law in Western countries, the culture of Jihad and where she speaks positively of Israel, its right to exist, defend itself and live in peace in its historic land.

And despite what many Israeli Jews think, there are, among Israeli Arabs, those who see things differently and dare to utter their thoughts out loud. One of them is a young Muslim woman named Daima Taya, who appeared on a local Arab channel and told a hostile interviewer: “Israel is not an apartheid state, and anyone who says so should be ashamed of himself. You live in this country and have a blue identity card (like every other Israeli). You work, talk (as you wish), study (whatever you wish), become researchers, teachers, lawyers, leaders,  and live in a country that shows you respect.”

“Syria, Iraq, Egypt and all the other Arab countries – what have they done for their people? Israel is a democracy, and its Declaration of Independence states that it has  Druze, Muslim Arab and other minority groups. What is a democratic state? One that respects its people, the people living in it, their right to lead their own religious lives, study, work, be elected, become judges, lawyers, and MKs, to speak freely in the  Knesset on whatever subject they wish. (Israel) gives them the right to liberty and freedom. Just where do you find that (in the Arab world)? …I wish all the Arab states, Arab societies, and citizens of Arab states the privilege to live in a democratic state like the State of Israel. I define myself as an Arab, a Muslim, I have Israeli citizenship, am proud of myself and of my religion, proud that I live in a state that respects me and grants me my rights….”

Later, she added: “There is nothing perfect, nothing is 100%, go look at what is going on in the Arab world. Compared to that, Israel is just fine! And show me one Arab state where one can criticize the government!”

These are just examples of the pro-Israel opinions in the Arab world. Names such as Wafa Sultan, Bridget Gabriel, Sacar Alnablasi, Camal Govriel, Walid Shoebat and the Saudi Arabian Louis Alsherif are others, who have said things like:  “If Israel did not exist, the Arabs would have had to invent it” or “Israel does not fit in the Middle East because it is not a dictatorship, not a tribal state, not a clan-based state and not run by a military junta” and “The Arab world is not willing to accept Israel because Israel’s head of state gets his bribes in envelopes and our rulers need boxes to transport their bribes” and “Arab and Israeli journalists have  something in common: Their governments allow them to malign Israel” and “Israel mirrors the Arabs – when they look at it they see the opposite of themselves.”

There is much more to say about the few people who appear on Arab media and defend Israel. There is much more to say about those who do so secretly for fear of the reaction that would come from their surroundings. I myself am in contact with quite a few of these people, those who are out in the open and those who are afraid to reveal their identities.

I am going to tell just one story. Every few weeks a group of 3-4 people phone me from somewhere in the Gaza Strip and beg me to tell Israel to re-conquer the region because their lives are Hell since the day in 2007 when Hamas pushed out the PA to take control of Gaza. In the past, they had worked in Israel, earned decent wages and provided for their families. Israel as a state and the Israeli people treated them well, showed them respect and usually paid them fair wages for their work.

When Hamas took over, they lost their jobs in Israel. Now only those who flatter Hamas manage to obtain some sort of employment and anyone not willing to sing Hamas’ praise finds himself unemployed.  Work, however, is only a minor issue, because there is something much worse – the difference between Hamas’ treatment of women and local girls and Israel’s. The friends who phone me remember well that if it was necessary to do a security search on a woman at a checkpoint or other place while Israel controlled Gaza, the IDF would ensure that a policewoman or female soldier was called in to perform the search.  Not once did a male IDF soldier touch a local woman. Today the situation in that regard is simply horrible – if there is someone who has lost  favor in Hamas eyes, the Hamas men arrive at his house late at night in cars without license plates, break in with their faces masked, remove the men from the house and abuse the women and young girls left unprotected inside.

That is what makes all the difference. The Arabs themselves know the truth about Israel, how it treats its citizens. They know that those who malign and slander Israel, whether or not they have reason to do so, do not have truth on their side. Even those who support Israel realize that it is not perfect, that there is no perfect nation in the entire world. What Israel has, however, and none of its neighbors possesses, is the Israeli desire and intent to be decent, law-abiding and moral, to respect human rights and respect men and women. Israel does not wish to see dead and wounded Arabs. If its neighbors would only allow Israel to live in peace and tranquility, they would never find themselves attacked.

What is really important, though, is for us, the Israelis, to remember that not every Arabic speaker is an Israel-hater by definition. There are many people to be found in the Arab and Islamic world who accept Israel’s existence from the start and not just after the fact and believe in the right of Jews to live securely and tranquility in the land of their forefathers. They also believe in Israel’s right to defend itself and its citizens’ lives, welfare, and health.

That is the Arab tragedy: The modern Arab state appears in several places as its nation’s own worst enemy, hated by its citizens, murdering its residents, denying their rights and stealing their property – while the head of state, its ruler, can best be described as “the liaison officer between his citizens and the World to Come.”

When such is the difference between Israel and its neighbors, is it any wonder that there is a not insignificant number of Arabs willing to accept Israel’s right to exist and defend its citizens like any other nation in the world? Is there any way Israel can help them? Probably not, and they know this well.

We can only wish them long, healthy and successful lives, as we wish all the people of Israel.

Reprinted with author’s permission from Israel National News

Read more at https://www.israelnationalnews.com/Articles/Article.aspx/21926#54jTxdIkxUmT0sli.99

 
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Posted by on April 8, 2018 in Uncategorized

 

Una marcha para destruir Israel

 
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Posted by on April 7, 2018 in Uncategorized