Autumnal Reflections

I wandered into the Pawtucket Tax Assessor’s office because I’d been told that they will tell you the history of your house. “Sure,” said the nice lady. “What’s your address?” I told her and she looked something up in one book and then went to another and within minutes she had the page with the ownership record of my home.

I knew we’d bought the house from Betsy Joslin, a widow, shortly before her re-marriage, and once I’d met a man named Rosenfield who’d sold it to the Joslins, but I’d buried that information somewhere deep in my shallow sub-conscience. But now, looking at the list of owners of Lot 547, Plat 66 dating back to 1914, it suddenly hit me that there are an awful lot of people who also said, “this is my home” as they entered my front door and slept in my bedroom, cooked their meals in my kitchen, ate those meals in my breakfast room. I knew that the Joslins had two children who I imagine played and whooped and screamed as they tore through the house, as did mine, but how many other children have there been who felt that the walls that protect my family, protected them? Did Rosenfield (1963-1970) have children sleeping in my sons’ rooms? Or Sherlee Gershman (1954-1963) or Samuel and Edna Orenstein (1952-1954) or Esther Halpert (1941-1952)? Who was Frederick R. Marquis, Jr (1938-1941)? Is he still alive, did he love this house the way we do? Why was he only here for three years? Or Thomas and Muriel Mitchell (1929-1938)? Did they have children who played in the same backyard ours did? Were they the ones who switched from coal to oil, and who was it who then switched from oil to gas? Conrad Paris lived in my house from 1925-1929. Was he forced to sell by the coming of the Great Depression, or had he seen the house as a starter home? In 1924 there were two owners, and I don’t know why. Rosalun C. O’Brien sold to Thomas and Catherine Gill, but why did Thomas Gill buy the house when he (or someone who had the same name) owned it in 1918—or was it a house in 1918, or just an empty lot waiting to be developed? I don’t know. Gill bought the house (or the lot) from the Oak Hill Lawn Company who had bought it in 1916 from M. Jenckes and E. H. Thornton (if I decipher the handwriting correctly) who were the first listed owners, in 1914.

Sometimes, not often, I think I see a shadow, or sometimes a flash of light, or hear a peep of sound and then it’s gone and I wonder if the shade of a previous owner ever comes back to check on us, and then I remind myself that I’m an enlightened rationalist. Still, I wonder who these people were? Who will be the next people, and the next who won’t even know of our existence, of our joys and sorrows, of what we did to improve the house they will think of as theirs? We’ve had the house the longest, since October 1977, but I know we are really only caretakers.

I’d gone to City Hall to get a dog license for Emma who has lived with us for a year and a half. She knows nothing of Morgan whose home this was for ten years and she had no idea that Wordsworth had lived here for 17 ½ years. Wordsworth had no inkling that he was dog number two, that Jonathan had been first. In time no one will know of any of those animals who gave us such joy.

At the university where I’ve been on faculty since 1969 people who have been teaching for decades retire, and then in four years, no student on campus remembers them. Only we somewhat younger old geezers recall the ancient days, the long gone people. Someday, I suppose nobody will know I was there either, just as nobody knew until I went to the Pawtucket tax assessor’s office that while I was a kid growing up in Brooklyn, Sherlee Gershman lived my house, thinking it hers. Who were her friends? Who came to visit? Why did she sell? And what of those shadows caught in the corner of my eye, that vague flash of light, that peep of a sound?

A lesson from History

The ancient Roman historian Titus Livius (59 BCE – 17 CE) reminds his readers in every age that “in history you have a record of the infinite variety of human experience plainly set out for all to see; and in that record you can find for yourself and your country examples and warnings; fine things to take as models, base things, rotten through and through, to avoid.”
The ancient Roman philosopher/statesman Cicero (106-43 BCE) tells the story of consul Marcus Atilius Regulus who was taken prisoner by the Carthaginians during the First Punic War. (Consuls were the chief civil and military officers in the Roman Republic. To get an idea of someone with equal status and authority combine General Eisenhower in 1944 with President Eisenhower in 1954.) The Carthaginians thought this provided them a great opportunity—one consul could be exchanged for hundreds of prisoners. So Regulus was sent back to Rome on parole, sworn to return if Carthage’s prisoners of war were not released. He came to the senate and stated his mission; but he then advised against the deal; for they were young men and officers who would make war on Rome, while he was only one man, already bowed with age. In the end Rome kept the prisoners, and Regulus returned to captivity in Carthage.
What do we learn from this? If nothing else it’s that before the exchange of prisoners the prudent thing is to win the war. Giving back over a thousand Palestinians, a goodly number with Jewish civilian blood on their hands, in exchange for one kidnapped Israeli soldier was inopportune. Doesn’t anyone over there read history? The Regulus story may be in the preserve of a few fussy scholars but ask this—during the First World War, how many prisoners were exchanged (answer: None before the Armistice). During World War II did we send back any Germans, Italians or Japanese in exchange for American POWs? (Hint: “No”.)
I know the rationale. Israel makes a commitment to the families of its conscripts (pretty much all age appropriate Israelis minus those in Yeshivas) to bring them back—alive if possible, if not, at least for burial. I understand. But when are they brought back, that’s the question. Three years ago Israel gave up a multiple murderer, Samir Kuntar who in 1979 killed a police officer then took a 28-year-old man and his 4-year-old daughter hostage. He shot the father dead in front of his little girl and then smashed her head in, killing her. Kuntar was sentenced to 542 years in prison. But in 2008 Israel arranged a swap. It received the cadavers of 1st Sgt. Ehud "Udi" Goldwasser and Sgt. 1st Class Eldad Regev in exchange for this sadistic murder who upon his return to Lebanon was hailed as a hero by Hezbollah. And now the returning heroes of Hamas have been greeted in Gaza with cries from the crowd to kidnap more Israelis, to get back more prisoners. Sergeants Goldwasser and Regev were spared what Gilad Shalit may soon suffer. Can you imagine the young man’s anguish when the first of the terrorists released to get him back blows up a pizzeria, or a bus, or a Seder, or a pedestrian mall?
Israel prides itself on the return of conscripts but has forgotten the other part of the social contract, the part that says we will protect the civilians of Israel from terrorists. Israel, any government, must remember to do no harm to its population. It’s bad enough that despite seeking peace Israel has been in a state of perpetual war for its entire existence; it’s worse that it gives enemies fresh soldiers to make war on it. Hamas is strengthened; Israel has handed it potentially returning terrorists or if not them, has encouraged another generation to take the risk. After all, if they are captured before or after their assaults on civilians, all they have to do is wait a few years in jail and then come home to a hero’s welcome.
This edition of the Jewish Voce & Herald is due out on November 11, 2011, 11/11/11 for you numerologists. On November 11, 1918 at 11:00 AM, the First World War came to an end and then prisoners were exchanged, no longer a danger to the countries that had held them in captivity. I’m glad that Shalit is home, but the price was too high. Wait until after victory. Remember the lesson of Regulus, that honorable man.

Kol Nidre at the Wall (Street Occupation)

On Kol Nidre my oldest son and his wife attended services in their new shul in Virginia. My wife and I kvelled in Milwaukee, Wisconsin as our son the cantor chanted the haunting melodies and gave life to the ancient words. But it’s the experience of our youngest son I’d like to discuss with you.

Much has been written about the so-called Wall Street Occupation. Unless you’ve been living under a rock you know that leftist activists in New York have taken over a small public park which they use as a staging ground for speeches and occasional marches on Wall Street. I’m pretty sure I know what the protesters are opposed to—corporate greed, but I’m not sure what they favor instead. Is it a genuine movement or warm weather flight of fancy, a nostalgic return to those thrilling days of 1968 in Chicago? Time will tell.

Here (edited for space) is what my son saw on Kol Nidre:

The service was held at a public plaza across the street from Zuccotti Park, where the occupation itself is centered. We were surrounded by police (and food carts, probably in the worst possible place for business that night). I got there right before it started. I’ve read that 1,000 participated. At 7:00, two rabbis and a cantor (Avi Fox Rosen, Getzel Davis and Sarah Wolf) stood in the center of the plaza and got everyone’s attention in the standard Occupy Wall Street style by shouting “Mick Check” in call and repeat style. They asked everyone to form concentric circles around them. They distributed some machzors and kippot, and created 4 aisles through the crowd. Some people brought folding chairs, but most of us stood and sat on the concrete. All instructions were given in call and repeat, so that everyone could hear. There are no microphones or bullhorns, as the occupation does not have a sound permit.

Most of the service was in Hebrew, a traditional Conservative service with some added phrases to make it more egalitarian. There was some singing and some nigunim (wordless melodies) as well. For most of the service we were sitting in a circle facing the Rabbi, but for the Amidah and for Al Chait (confession of sins) we faced East. We did the traditional Al Chait in Hebrew, and then a more political version in English afterward. It started, “We have sinned by yielding to confusion and falling into passivity.”

The sermon was in the same call and repeat fashion. The Rabbi took traditional Jewish concepts and made them relevant in ways that I was not expecting. For instance he talked about the origins of the holiday—the Jews seeking forgiveness for worshiping the golden calf. That got him talking about contemporary “gold worship”, wealth, capitalism, and the rest. Then he talked about how Yom Kippur can easily be embraced as an opportunity for forgiveness, and is therefore described in some texts as the happiest day of the year. He talked about what it means that humanity was created in God’s image. If we are meant to serve God on earth, then what better way to do it than to serve humanity? It was a smart way of making a humanist argument in a religious context.

The sermon was followed by an “unconventional Alenu.” He said Alenu is our commitment to serve, and do better in the future. So he had people shout out things they commit to do in the new year, and if anyone wanted to take on that commitment, they could shout “Alenu” afterward. The commitments ranged from “I will call my mother more often” and “I will question my own assumptions” to “I will work to end capitalism,” and “I will fight for a living wage for all workers.” People were shy at first, but after a few shout-outs there were too many hands up to call on, so the Rabbi had everyone yell out their own oath together, and we all did, and laughed, and then sang the traditional end of Alenu together.

We said Kaddish, and that was it. People milled around, and many wandered over to join the occupation across the street. The organizers say they are planning to do Friday night services there as long as the occupation continues. All of this—the whole political Yom Kippur concept—could have failed on both religious and political grounds, but I thought they did a really good job on both fronts. I think it was especially successful because it had an immediate and clear relevancy and urgency to it, and the Rabbi and Cantors all did a great job with the difficult circumstances (the constant call and repeat, the lack of chairs, etc.).

It was a very memorable Kol Nidre at the barricades of the revolution!

A very brief video of a nigun moment at the Occupation can be found at http://www.twitvid.com/6HEQ8

Does Israel Matter?

Even before his inauguration the right-wing of the American political spectrum was predicting that Barack Obama would not be a friend to Israel. Almost on a daily basis since I’ve been receiving e-mails all of which declaim that Obama is selling Israel down the river.

Some of the e-mails point to the recent bi-election for the New York 9th congressional district, a traditional Democratic enclave lost because the Democrat because Obama was too pro-Palestinian, the conventional wisdom would have it. But David Weprin, the defeated Democratic candidate, is an Israel hawk. Yet his Orthodox co-religionists voted en bloc for the Republican, Bob Turner, who has never set foot in Israel So what did Weprin in? As Hendrik Hertzberg of The New Yorker points out in his blog it was his votes in the New York State legislature in favor of gay rights which earned him a virtual fatwa from the local rabbis: “It is therefore Assur [forbidden according to Torah law] to vote for, campaign for, publicly honor, fund, or otherwise support the campaign of Assemblyman David Weprin.” In other words, Israel had nothing to do with the vote.

A recent Jewish Telegraphic Agency story caught my eye. It discusses why the candidates for the Republican nomination for president are all so pro-Israel. Rick Perry flies to New York for the UN General Assembly meeting and accuses Obama of appeasement (a word most Jews rightly view with abhorrence) and Mitt Romney argues that “You don’t allow an inch of space to exist between you and your friends and allies.” But ought Obama and the Democrats be ashamed of his attitudes in the Middle East?

The Obama administration tried desperately to prevent the Palestinians from formally applying for UN recognition of statehood. It’s been selling Israel bunker-busting bombs since 2009. It’s opposed to new settlements, but so are a lot of Jews. To the Republican charge that Obama has “the most consistently one-sided diplomatic record against Israel of any American president in generations,” Democrats counter with reminders of the $3 billion sent to Israel for military assistance, including $205 million to build the Iron Dome rocket defense system for communities on Israel’s border with Gaza. They emphasize the United States’ effort to block the Palestinian declaration of statehood, and intervening to protect the Israeli ambassador when a violent mob stormed the embassy in Cairo.

Previous Republican presidents have put pressure on Israel. Dwight Eisenhower forced Israel to give up the Sinai in 1956; Richard Nixon prevented Israel from administering a coup de grace to the Egyptian Third Army during the Yom Kippur War of 1973. Gerald Ford announced that America would henceforth take a more even-handed stance in the Middle East (and Jews voted for Carter in 1976). While his father protected Israel with Patriot missiles, George W. Bush cajoled Israelis and Palestinians into the ill-fated 2007 Annapolis talks. So what’s different now? According to Matthew Brooks, executive director of the Republican Jewish Coalition, the cold war is over when it made sense to pressure Israel so as to woo Arabs from the Soviet camp. And Republicans can count. Noam Neusner, a former domestic policy adviser to President George W. Bush and now a communications consultant to Christians United For Israel points out that: “There are 5 million American Jews and 50 million Evangelicals,” who are even more monolithic in their support of Israel’s current government than are Jews.

As to Israel, does it matter if we have a Republican or a Democratic president? Both are committed to the survival of Israel; they disagree on how to achieve it. So do Jews. If a Republican wins in 2012 will he really always be so pro-Israeli as to be anti-Palestinian? Not likely. Marshall Breger, an adviser to President Reagan reminds, “You campaign in poetry, you govern in prose,” meaning that all the sweet words aimed at wooing the Jewish vote will mean nothing when trying to decide what’s best for America. Dov Zakheim, a former senior Pentagon official in both Bush administrations, said that a Republican president likely would have to make decisions that displeased Israel. “Elections are about principle, holding office is about realties.”

My advice, for what it’s worth? When deciding for whom to cast your vote, think domestically. The Cold War is over. The Nazis are dead. Vote for the person you think will get us out of the economic mess Obama inherited; vote for the jobs program you think will work; vote for the social programs your think are necessary or aren’t. Israel can fend for itself quite nicely, regardless who sits in the White House.

Essay Writing 101

Sometimes the ways of the US Postal Service are strange to behold, beyond human comprehension. If things work as they should you’ll receive this on Friday September 30 just in time for an après Rosh Hashanah lunch sit down in your favorite easy chair. But as we know Saturday or next Wednesday is as likely a delivery date as any.

So, I ask you, what is this essay about? Will it rail against the inefficiencies of a privatized government bureau? Is it about Rosh Hashanah, perhaps lunch? Or easy chairs? Answer: None of the above. Instead it’s time for a redaction of the Essay Writing 101 a course I never took in college.

In the last issue I took a swipe at a letter writer who asked in what I thought was a patronizing and disingenuous fashion why Jews continue to vote for very liberal politicians when you would think that our values would be more in line with more conservative candidates. I found this patronizing because it suggested that Jews should be more like the author, like the majority of Americans, and, let’s face it, (and this is the disingenuous part) why aren’t we Christian. It would be to our advantage and like being a conservative would only require us to give up the past several centuries of our development to join the greater community. So I wrote a strong rejoinder but wanted to temper it a bit. So I added what I thought was a dollop of humor by teasing my editor (who nevertheless I described as “terrific”) for publishing what seemed to me a letter verging on the anti-Semitic.

It’s called “misdirection” in the essay writing business, sometimes it’s described in dance terms as a “lateral Arabesque” the starting with one thing you don’t intend to pursue but which sets up what your real target is, and then concludes with the initial misdirection either for emphasis or humor. It’s a technique used since at least the time of Homer’s Iliad.

So what was the reaction to the piece? Did I hit too hard, below the belt, score a knockout? None of the above. You shouldn’t have attacked Nancy (the editor) is all I heard. But I didn’t attack Nancy, I used Nancy’s publishing the letter as a springboard to dive into my real subject, the letter, I responded. You shouldn’t have attacked Nancy, is the response. Well, I give up. Nancy knows I didn’t attack her. In fact the original column concluded with a deliberate non-sequitur that I thought pretty clever, but she didn’t so out it went. Her only objection to my using her as a foil was that I referred to her as the paper’s editrix. She said it sounded too much like dominatrix but I said I had Amelia Earhart in mind who is always referred to as an aviatrix, but again the change was made. Never did she suggest that I was being unfair to her or complaining in a more than friendly tease.

So, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

(One person who wrote to me asked why I seemed not to know that most American Jews vote for very liberal candidates and chides that I should have known from the New York Times on September 23 that Jews have long proved a solid voting block for the Democratic Party. But my column was published in the September 16 edition of the Voice & Herald and submitted a week before that. I appreciate my correspondent’s belief in my prescience but if I knew what the Times was going to print two weeks before publication I’d be a very much richer man than I am.)

As this is designed to reach you on Rosh Hashanah and is the edition of the paper that precedes Yom Kippur, please let me take the opportunity to thank those of you who have made reading this column a regular part of your bi-weekly activities and to ask sincerely that if I’ve offended with anything I’ve written to forgive as my object may have been to provoke, but never to offend. Shana Tova, everyone; may 5772 bring us all the blessing of lives filled with love and joy, peace and prosperity, good health and the wonder of discovery. And may the US Postal Service get this to you in time for your après déjeuner period of overstuffed relaxation in an overstuffed chair. Amen

Jews as Liberals

Sometimes the ways of editors are strange to behold, beyond human comprehension. At the Voice & Herald we have a terrific editrix but why she chose to print a patronizing letter to the editor from a self-proclaimed practicing Catholic who asks “Why do most American Jews still support and vote for very liberal politicians when you would think that their values would be more in line with more conservative candidates?” is beyond me. You’ve got to wonder how desperate she is to have a letter to the editor.

Dear self-proclaimed practicing Catholic: I don’t know if most American Jews vote for very liberal candidates for office. Hopefully we do, but I cannot testify to that as I’ve not taken a poll. In fact I know several Jews who would take offense at your generalization pointing to themselves as George W. Bush conservatives. But if it’s true that we vote liberal it’s because of our history and our values. We have been at the noose end of the rope, the saber’s edge of the Cossack, the victims of the triangle shirtwaist fire, the inhalers of Zyklon B. What? Do you think that because many of us are now prosperous we should forget where we came from, forget that others are not yet prosperous and, in fact, are sliding into the morass of poverty as the wealthiest become wealthier? Should we ignore their plight which used to be ours? Should we forget that Jews marched in Selma, rode on Freedom busses, were slaughtered by conservative red-necks for daring to help African Americans register to vote? Should we forget the dogs that bit us, the tears we shed when we watched the news on TV and saw the atrocities of the south, the new heartland of the conservative Republican Party? Am I living in the past? Well, if so, I guess I’m a conservative after all. I’ll go to my local gun show and buy me an unregistered Glock. After all, I wouldn’t want no gov’ment revenu’ers interfering with my Second Amendment rights to pack a rod.

That’s the history we bring to the table, those of us who have not become conservatives. As to our values they go back to the bible. We were slaves in Egypt and I’ve lost count of the number of times we’re reminded of that fact in the bible and told, don’t treat your workers as you were treated in Egypt. Our prophets trump our desire for profits. They were advocates of social justice. Those of us who go to shul read them every week. Those who don’t attend regularly probably go on Yom Kippur where we always read, “This is the fast I desire: To unlock fetters of wickedness, and untie the cords of the yoke to let the oppressed go free; to break off every yoke. It is to share your bread with the hungry, and to take the wretched poor into your home; when you see the naked, clothe him, and not ignore your own kin.” Well, thanks to Reaganism there are now too many homeless for us to take care of ourselves, so we depend on government to do the job for us and pay our taxes so that it can be done. We pay our taxes so that government can build high-speed trains and repair roads. Oh, wait, I forgot, as a conservative I don’t want to pay taxes; after all, it’s my money; why should I share it with some vagrant, why should I want it spent on trains when I own a car?

As long as I’m quoting bible, here’s a question for our purported practicing Catholic: What would be the political philosophy of someone who said that it’s easier for a camel to get through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to get into heaven? Just wondering.

And finally, why was this question addressed to Jews in the first place? I know for a fact that many mainstream Protestants are more liberal than I am, and many Roman Catholics who are also. OK, Protestants, raise your hands if you are a liberal. I see, one, two, three, a million, ten-million. Now Roman Catholics, are any of your liberal? I see, one, two, three, a million, ten-million.

Please, Madame Editrix, enough. As to the rest of you, write a letter to the editor for her; she obviously is very lonely. Praise this column or attack it—or better yet, praise this column and attack Rosenberg’s.

A New Hero

I have many heroes, but today I add a new one to the list. In literature my hero is Hector of the Shining Helmet, defender of idyllic Troy from the barbarians at the gate. The Bible has a slew of heroes to choose from but I’ll stick with Joshua bin Nun, for obvious reasons. In science Galileo, who refused to back down from his researches even knowing the fate of those who preceded him tops the list, though modest Isaac Newton is close behind. Of American presidents I’ll stick with Kennedy, hero of my youth. In sports Gil Hodges wins the prize. His denied entrance to the Hall of Fame is a modern day equivalent of Hector being defeated outside the walls of Troy by the Achilles and Athena.

Except for Joshua, none of these fellows was actually Jewish, except in my mind. But the new guy is. One rainy day we drove to the Clark Museum in Williamstown to see the special exhibition called “Pissarro’s People”. (It’s there for another month if you have the inclination to make the drive.) I didn’t know much about Camille (since he’s my new hero we are now on a first name basis) other than vaguely that he was an early exemplar of the Impressionist School of French painting. What I didn’t know was that he was a Sephardic Jew. In fact, that morsel might be a clue to his personality and world outlook. Now, the world outlook of which I speak is not exclusively Jewish (it was shared by his exact contemporary Leo Tolstoy—1828-1910)—but Jews of his time, 1830-1903 and later, or some Jews, hold a similar perspective.

Pissarro is sometimes called the “Dean of Impressionism” or its “father”. He was an older member of that group that included Monet, Manet, Renoir, Cézanne, Degas, etc. which broke with the sanctified traditions of Beaux-Arts formalism to create the more fluid art that gave the idea of passing reality rather than perfected views of the past. So why is a guy who painted fuzzy a hero? Not because of his skill (which is indisputable) nor because of his courage in defying the establishment (also indisputable) but because of how he lived and painted. His real rebellion was against the self-satisfied bourgeoisie to whom material possessions were the be all and end all, who treated laborers as if they were replaceable cogs. He married Julie Vellay (1838-1926) one of his mother’s maids, a woman he loved for who, not what, she was, and to whom he remained devoted for the rest of his life. That he would see in the maid servant virtue was reflected in his paintings of peasants who worked his rural lands. They are shown during hard work and deserved leisure. They are respected, not revolutionary as suggested in Jean-François Millet’s “The Gleaners”. To Pissarro the peasants he painted from the mid-1870s on were interesting people living interesting lives best shown in their collective markets, kind of like what is now springing up as nostalgic throwbacks such as the Saturday morning and Wednesday afternoon Blackstone Blvd. farmers’ markets, a place to see and be seen, to meet and to gossip, to buy (Blackstone Blvd farmers’ market prices are not for peasants) and to sell, a place other than the church to congregate. It’s a romantic image ignoring the smells and feel of cow dung and the backbreaking labor of sowing and reaping, but to Pissarro (and to Tolstoy, both of whom worked side by side—at least on occasion—with their peasants) it was the forecast of what was to come, a time when labor, peasant labor in this case, would own the land and determine what was to be bought and sold and for how much, the profits distributed according to effort and need. Think kibbutz.

In the end, Camille realized that this edenic vision was not to be and he drew a series of sketches called Turpitudes Sociales (Social Disgraces), Hogarthian depictions of life in the industrialized cities with a prediction of the uprising of the workers against those who exploited their labor. (You can find the complete set at http://www.clarkart.edu/exhibitions/pissarro/content/slideshow-turpitudes-sociales.cfm)

So, my new hero in art is the Jew, Camille Pissarro—not because he’s Jewish but because his Jewishness colors his work in a way I’d never realized until I saw his people at the Clark.