Strange Day

The Bibas family - mother and two children. Kidnapped then murdered by Hamas.

Most of the world will remember October 7 as the date on which Gazans perpetrated the highest one-day loss of Jewish life since the Holocaust. For Jews, that October 7, 2023 coincided with Simchat Torah (also known as Shemini Atzeret) the last of the festivals that occur in a three-week chunk of time often referred to as the High Holy Days. Today was Simchat Torah, so three years according to the Jewish calendar since that terrible day.

The celebrations in the synagogue I attend were as joyous as ever, even though our Rabbi marked the start by mentioning the soldiers, members of our community, who died on that day or in the war. I cannot begin to feel the pain in the families who suffered those losses. I can, however, feel a slight unease at the perpetual link between one of our happy — some might say over the top happy — holy days and the October 7 tragedy. That link may last forever. We will never forget the tragedy nor the victims. They will be in our hearts forever. I just wonder if that link is a sign, a not-so-subtle message about something else that we have yet to fully absorb. I suppose that every Simchat Torah we will get the opportunity to try again and unravel the mystery.

As you may have guessed, Simchat Torah seems to have put me into a maudlin mood.

After Yom Kippur

If you want an insight into modern Jewish life, here’s a wee snippet.

What was the first thing I did when I turned on my phone after Yom Kippur ended? I checked the news to see which Jewish communities throughout the world had been attacked. It looks like the only serious attack was the one on the Ontario synagogue. I was expecting worse.

Happy New Year!

Every time the High Holidays roll around, one of the memories that keeps popping up is that of the time, when living in Glasgow, we had two last-minute, surprise Israeli visitors for Yom Kippur.

The shul had recruited some students from Yeshivah University to help with the services and events. These young men took a break after Rosh Hashanah and went on a tour of the north of Scotland. On the way back to Glasgow, they picked up two hitchhikers who turned out to be two Israelis…

Neither had anywhere to stay and the yeshivah students asked us to help out. So, we hosted them.

Both were chiloni — secular. Very secular. They had no clue they had arrived on the night of Yom Kippur. I told them I was going to shul and they were coming with. (Looking back, that was not the best way I could have dealt with the situation.) Both were happy to come, but one of them asked how he would get to the airport the next morning — Yom Kippur — and I confess that shocked me and tried my diplomatic reserves. How could any Jew, no matter how secular, travel on Yom Kippur? Again, looking back, my perspective now is different, but at the time I was shocked. I told our departing guest, he was free to make arrangements using our phone but I wouldn’t be helping him on the day.

So, both came to shul for Kol Nidre. The next morning, one departed, and the other came with me to shul and joined in the fast. I got the impression this was the first time he (let’s call him Moshe) had fasted on Yom Kippur. It was probably the first time Moshe had fasted. The part that really took my breath away was when Moshe said he couldn’t understand what the prayers were about and couldn’t follow the service.

Moshe was very personable and was an easy guest. He stayed for a few more days and we took him on a couple of local tours and even went bike riding with him.

If I had paid attention, I would have realized this experience was divinely manifested to prepare me for the chiloni-religious divide in Israeli society. Growing up in Glasgow, in a (relatively) small community, everyone mixed with everyone, regardless of where they were on the religious spectrum. I remember one out-of-town guest to one of my nephew’s Shalom Zachar expressing amazement at the mixed crowd who were there to join in the celebration. To us locals, it was the norm. It turns out, there are advantages in living in a smaller Jewish community!

So, as we head towards the end of 5786 and the start of 5787, I’ll turn over these memories in my head, relive the past, remember the present, and hope for the future.

To those who celebrate it, I wish you all a Happy New Year and well over the fast.

Scottish Facial Recognition Technology

I am just back from a trip to the UK — Glasgow and London — featuring the usual mandatory visits to Glenduffhill Cemetery and Foyles bookshop and on this occasion some common-or-garden sightseeing.

I went to Hampton Court, Bletchley Park, and Cambridge. The first two were impressive. The last was a bit of a disappointment because it reeked of ‘tourist trap’: the admission prices for some of the university locations were far too high. (Given the university gets wads of public cash, why should the public — especially British taxpayers — be charged anything?)

In Glasgow I encountered the latest in facial recognition technology. On Shabbat morning, I was stopped at the shul entrance by a security guard who said ‘Sorry sir, but I don’t recognize your face’ and he then politely barred my entry. I explained I was a visitor — yes, it does still feel strange, even after all these years, being a visitor to Glasgow — but that didn’t move him and correctly so. Fortunately, one of the regular congregation arrived just then and vouched for me. Phew! Of course, it’s a sad comment on the state of affairs that the shul needs security, but it’s also a common feature that is unlikely to go away soon.

On Shabbat, I skipped off early from the services and walked into the city center to meet up with the amazing Glasgow Friends of Israel. For more than ten years they have been presenting their pro-peace platform on Buchanan Street and making a real difference. If you don’t already know about them, I encourage you to search for them on Facebook and check out their weekly reports. They are amazing. They are solid evidence that the silent majority support Israel and that social media is not the real world. It was an eventful day but I won’t say any more until certain legal matters have been resolved. I was glad I went and the volunteers thanked me for my support such as it was.

Glasgow was the first stop on the holiday. As I drove south to London, I couldn’t help thinking about the Jewish community I was leaving behind and hoping for their future safety and survival.

Coming Home Anniversary

This week marks my umpteenth aliyahversary — my arrival in Israel as a new immigrant and my return to the homeland of the Jews. Although I reap the benefits every day I am here, it’s good to take time out to consciously mark the occasion and say thanks.

I love living life to a Jewish beat, to a Jewish rhythm.

Instead of going from New Year to Easter to Christmas, I go from Rosh Hashanah, via Yom Kippur, to Sukkot, Chanukah, Purim, and Pesach — with a few fast days thrown in.

I love seeing the various Jewish festivals being marked in the shops, on buses, on the streets, and in the media.

I love that I live my life as a Jew, free from worries about the temperamental hostility of my fellow citizens. I can wear a kippah, should I choose to do so, and it’s not like putting a target on my back unlike in the rest of the world. (Isn’t that shocking and sad?)

Instead of going from Monday to Sunday, I go from Sunday to Shabbat.

I love the growing calm, peace, and quiet that Friday afternoon brings as people get ready for Shabbat, however they may mark it.

And Friday night dinner is a major family occasion here, regardless of religious belief or observance. It’s wonderful and life affirming to experience and see it. Sometimes, on my way to shul on a Friday night, I see visitors coming to our apartment block, typically loaded with one or more trays of food, joining family or friends or both to enjoy a Shabbat evening meal.

I love the regular surprises that the Israeli people bring to the world. For the avoidance of doubt, I’m not arguing any superiority, just celebrating our successes. And, yes, we have our failures to mourn, mainly our political leaders. Our current Prime Minister and government are an embarrassment. Hopefully the next election will sort that out. If not, next year’s aliyahversary post may be more somber!

So, another glorious year of living in Israel has gone by. Here’s to the next one, and many more.

(Let’s not forget this benefit.)

Duality of Antisemitism

Much of the hateful discourse in the media (mainstream and social) during the hot war with Iran has been about the relationship between Trump/USA and Netanyahu/Israel.

The general thrust of the poison was (and is) to the effect that Trump does what Netanyahu wants, that the war was Israel’s, and that the USA had no option but do what its Zionist overlords ordered. In other words, The Jews controlled America.

This, of course, is hateful nonsense.

As Sartre said:

Never believe that anti-Semites are completely unaware of the absurdity of their replies.  They know that their remarks are frivolous, open to challenge.  But they are amusing themselves, for it is their adversary who is obliged to use words responsibly, since he believes in words…

The anti-Semites…like to play with discourse for, by giving ridiculous reasons, they discredit the seriousness of their interlocutors.  They delight in acting in bad faith, since they seek not to persuade by sound argument but to intimidate and disconcert.  If you press them too closely, they will abruptly fall silent, loftily indicating by some phrase that the time for argument is past.

Source: Anti-Semite and Jew by Jean-Paul Sartre, 1944

With that in mind, let’s turn to an article in today’s Times of Israel:

Iranian Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi warns that the US-Iran memorandum of understanding obligates US President Donald Trump to “muzzle” Israel and prevent it from militarily threatening Iran, in response to remarks by Defense Minister Israel Katz.

“The terms of the Islamabad MoU are crystal clear and public for all to see. POTUS has committed the US to muzzling its pets in Tel Aviv. If they ignore their master, Iran will school them. Any threat against our People and Leadership will receive Immediate Powerful Response,” Araghchi warns in a post on X.

Yes, you read that correctly. Apparently, the story has changed: now it’s America that controls Israel.

Truly, to be an antisemite is to be especially blessed: you have the capacity, if not the requirement, to hold two conflicting racist tropes in your mind at the same time. Such is the duality of antisemitism.

The Antisemitism of Amnesty

I previously referred to the Perfidy of Amnesty. Their continuing bigotry has been brought to my attention by the indomitable Elder of Ziyon in a post entitled Amnesty proves it is antisemitic, again.

I encourage you to follow the last link and read the post on the Elder’s site. For those who want a summary, here goes:

Amnesty tweeted about a Holocaust survivor:

Right now, Holocaust survivor Stephen Kapos is at the Nakba Day demonstration in London. The 88-year-old has attended almost every demonstration in the last two year’s protesting Israel’s genocide in Gaza. Stephen stands and sits with family and members of his group the ‘Holocaust Survivors & Descendants Against the Genocide in Gaza’.

The Elder pointed out:

Amnesty-UK is publicizing a child Holocaust survivor who marches in anti-Israel demonstrations, calling the Gaza War a “genocide.” The only reason they want to promote him is to make the point that as a Holocaust survivor, Kapos knows what genocide is and has a particular moral authority to be able to describe Israel’s actions as the most heinous war crimes.

But if Holocaust survivors have a unique perspective on genocide – and they do, having survived the paradigm of all genocides – then what about the 99.9% of living Holocaust survivors who support Israel, and who recognize Hamas and October 7 as being the closest modern equivalent to Nazis? If Holocaust survivors have an important perspective on the matter, why is Amnesty ignoring the feelings of nearly all of them and promoting a fringe figure among them?

From this, the Elder (rightly) concludes that Amnesty doesn’t think most Holocaust survivors’ opinions are important. I agree. How arrogant is their attitude? How bigoted is it?

The Elder makes two particular points following this.

First, Amnesty means that the other Holocaust survivors who support Israel are — by Amnesty’s logic — supporting genocide.

Second, by promoting Kapos above the majority of other Holocaust survivors, they are clearly using him as a prop. If they cared for Holocaust survivors, they would instead quote the others who would tell Amnesty about Hamas, Hezbollah, Iran, and the Houthis who want to finish Hitler’s job.

And, as I don’t want to lessen the impact of the Elder’s closing words (with which I wholeheratedly agree) I set them out in full here:

To Amnesty, the Holocaust is not a lesson for them to learn from. It is only a lesson for its victims and their descendants. It wasn’t a genocide, exactly, but a giant classroom for Jews to learn to behave themselves and not act like Nazis. The rest of the world, the world that let the Holocaust happen, are now the judges that determine whether Jews fighting for their lives are crossing the line or need to be taught Remedial Holocaust 102. To Amnesty, the Holocaust is a prop meant to be trotted out when it is convenient for them to hurl the most hateful accusations against Jews and then use fringe, mentally ill Jews as a cover to protect themselves from being accused of antisemitism.

No one else can be compared to the Nazis but Jews, in Amnesty’s universe.

This tweet, alone, exposes the cynicism and hypocrisy of this supposedly “human rights” organization. And, yes, the implications of this tweet are pure Jew-hatred.

This is not imaginary. This is real. This is a once worthy human-rights organization that is clearly engaged in naked antisemitism — repeatedly. Their brand is poison and should be shunned forever.

Return of the Whisky

One of my favorite post-Pesach moments is retrieving my whisky. This year, because I’d removed the whisky from our home instead of just hiding it, it was a bigger job to put it back, so I left it until after Shabbat. Now I have the rest of the week to decide what the first taste of whisky will be in the new season. Given that the headline image shows only a sample of my collection, it’s a tough choice.