Shorn Matisyahu Takes Different Path

For Reggae Star, Shaving Beard Signals Shift in Career and Life

Derek McCabe

New Path: Matisyahu had fans pleading for his hits at a recent New York gig. But the reggae star is moving in a different direction after shaving his beard and giving up on the Hasidic lifestyle.

 

By Josh Nathan-Kazis

 

No one noticed Matisyahu when he climbed onstage at a downtown Manhattan concert venue in early January, drinking a cup of tea under dark red lights.

It wasn’t until the onetime Hasidic reggae superstar took off his fleece cap, revealing a velvet yarmulke, that fans connected the gaunt, stubble-faced man with the yeshiva boy who became an instant sensation in 2005, when he beat boxed on “Jimmy Kimmel Live!” wearing a Lubavitch fedora and an untamed beard.

“I didn’t even recognize him at first,” said Keith Dumont, 22, after the Rockwood Music Hall show. It wasn’t just the beard that was missing. The set Matisyahu and his band played at the late-night show didn’t sound much like reggae. And though the crowd begged, he didn’t favor them with one of his hits, or even an encore.

 Matthew Paul "Matisyahu" Miller

 

 

Matisyahu is still a superstar. He holds two spots on Billboard’s latest top-10 reggae album sales chart — the entire Marley clan only has three spots among them — and plays hip venues around the country
But the world of the 32-year-old Jewish reggae artist is in flux. In 2010, the major label Sony dropped his act. He recently moved to Los Angeles from a Hasidic enclave in Brooklyn and is now pursuing acting jobs. And in mid-December, Matisyahu shaved his beard, abandoning the visual hook that had helped separate him from the mass of white reggae wannabes.

For his friends and fans, these personal decisions carry heavy spiritual implications. In shaving and moving away from the Hasidic Jewish neighborhood of Crown Heights, Matisyahu appears to be signaling a shift from the ultra-Orthodox Hasidic Judaism that brought him his artistic success. Matisyahu declined to speak to the Forward for this story. But while some fans say his struggles make him more relatable, others worry about the most prominent ultra-Orthodox ba’al teshuvah, or nonobservant Jew who embraces Orthodoxy, losing his way.

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Matisyahu’s first Tweet on December 13 was a nod to his masseuse. His second, issued eight hours later, included a phrase from one of his own songs — “When the tide comes in I lose my disguise” — and two tinted photos of himself, newly beardless.

In the images, Matisyahu looked small and tired, even sick. Black sacks hung under his eyes. The beard was gone, and the shorn artist was unrecognizable. His plain white shirt, buttoned at the neck, looked like the burial shrouds some Jews wear on Yom Kippur.

Days later, during a concert in Brooklyn, Matisyahu apparently lost his temper, breaking a camera wielded by a photographer for Paper Magazine. The photographer, Rebecca Smeyne, writing on Paper’s website, said that she had taken a dozen shots of Matisyahu onstage. “[T]he next thing I knew, Matisyahu’s foot was on my face and I fell to the ground,” Smeyne reported. Matisyahu went on to “deliberately” damage the camera, according to Smeyne, and a representative of the artist paid damages on the spot.
Matisyahu later apologized on Twitter, saying that he had found the flash on her camera distracting.

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Matisyahu’s history is, by now, familiar. A onetime Phish fan named Matthew Miller, he grew up in a non-Orthodox home before growing interested in the ultra-Orthodoxy of Chabad. Matisyahu turned into an observant Lubavitch Hasid, studying at a Crown Heights yeshiva. In an interview with Rolling Stone, recorded shortly after he cut his beard, Matisyahu said that he stopped shaving and started wearing tzitzis just days after putting on a yarmulke for the first time.


“When I was 17 I listened to reggae music,” Matisyahu told WNYC’s Kurt Andersen in another interview recorded shortly after he shaved. “I loved Bob Marley. I started growing dreadlocks. It’s always been my way, that the outside matches what’s going on with me inside.”

Matisyahu’s Jewish-themed reggae, delivered in a faux Jamaican patois, hit big with his 2005 disc “Live at Stubb’s,” the first of two RIAA-certified gold albums. Sony put Matisyahu on its premier label and brought in industry heavyweight Jeff Ayeroff to consult on the artist’s image. Ayeroff, who had worked with Janet Jackson and the Smashing Pumpkins, among others, was tasked with packaging Matisyahu for broad consumption.

“I didn’t do anything to him,” Ayeroff said in a telephone interview with the Forward. “I think I kind of polished a very nice diamond.”

Ayeroff didn’t see Matisyahu’s traditional clothing as a problem. “I felt in the beginning that the look might have been a hook, it might have been a story you could tell,” Ayeroff said. “You don’t want to say, here’s a guy, [Matt] Miller, who’s a really good reggae, beat box guy. It’s different than saying there’s this Hasidic Jew, long beard, big hat, who is like an unbelievable reggae star. People go, ‘Really?’”
Ayeroff recruited director Marc Webb, now working on a new Spider-Man movie, to shoot a video for Matisyahu’s song “Youth.” Filmed in part in the now closed Manhattan punk mecca CBGB, Matisyahu wears his Hasidic clothes with attitude. The HBO show “Deadwood,” about life in a Wild West boomtown, was on the air at the time, and Ayeroff thought the image of a guy in a wide-brimmed hat could bring up cowboy associations.

“If you look at the long coat and the big hat and the beard, he would have been in a mining town,” Ayeroff said. “When he prowled that stage, he wasn’t doing ‘Fiddler on the Roof,’ let’s put it that way. He was doing something different in that garb.”

But some critics saw in Matisyahu’s exotic clothing a convenient shield. “Matisyahu’s black hat also helps obscure something that might otherwise be more obvious: his race,” Kelefa Sanneh wrote in a scathing New York Times review. “He is a student of the Chabad-Lubavitch philosophy, but he is also a white reggae singer with an all-white band, playing… to an almost all-white crowd. Yet, he has mainly avoided thorny questions about cultural appropriation.”

Six years on, cultural appropriation is no longer on the table. At the early January show, where the crowd was also nearly all white, all anyone wanted to talk about was Matisyahu’s beard. Or the lack of one.
One person loosely affiliated with Matisyahu’s circle said that people around the artist were shocked when he shaved. But longtime collaborator Aaron Dugan, a guitarist who toured with him until 2010 and appeared with him again January 4 to play music written days earlier, said he wasn’t surprised the beard was gone.

“I knew it would go at some point,” Dugan said moments after the show. “He’s a guy who does extreme things.”

Approached by the Forward outside Rockwood Music Hall, Dumont and his friends said that they had been talking about the beard on the way to the show. “It’s more in their struggle that we connect to great people than in their success,” said Yakov Block, 25. Block had never been to a Matisyahu concert, and upon reflection he said that he had come that evening because the artist had shaved his beard.

Block and Dumont and their friends are young, observant Jews with an alternative bent. Some said they were ba’al teshuvah. Block, who grew up religious, claimed a hybrid identity, saying he was “also Lubavitch.” Standing by the stage door after the show, hoping to get backstage to say hello to Matisyahu, some in the group said they saw in Matisyahu’s change a reflection of their own religious questioning.

“We all know if you’re trying to get better, you fall a little,” said Yonatan Sklar, who said he was a ba’al teshuvah and studied at a yeshiva in Long Island.

But Matisyahu is perhaps the most visible contemporary ba’al teshuvah, and his religious journey has been watched closely. His move away from Chabad in 2007 incited consternation in some religious quarters, as has his decision to shave.

Boxer Dmitriy Salita, a friend of Matisyahu’s and another prominent ba’al teshuvah, said he hoped that Matisyahu’s wavering wouldn’t give other ba’alei l teshuvah an excuse to waver. “Sometimes kids can look at it and see him as a role model and may get discouraged,” Salita said. “But people need to understand, Matisyahu is not a rebbe, he’s not a rabbi, he’s not a religious figure; he’s just a Jew like you and me and many other people, and he’s going through struggles.”

Those struggles may not be only spiritual.

Matisyahu’s life has taken radical turns over the past few years. When Sony dropped him, it left him without major label support. In the meantime, he has launched an acting career. He appears as an exorcist rabbi in “The Possession,” a horror film slated for release in August. The film is based on the story of a box sold on eBay in 2004, purportedly haunted by a dybbuk, a demon from Jewish mythology.
The pop singer was in talks over the summer to star in a “Flight of the Conchords”-style half-hour comedy series about life on tour as a Hasidic pop star. Jonathan Kesselman, writer and director of the 2003 satire “The Hebrew Hammer,” was involved in the project, which fell through. A spokeswoman for Matisyahu said that the musician was working on another television pitch, though she would not provide details.

This move toward film has coincided with Matisyahu leaving the Lubavitch enclave of Crown Heights, where he has lived since his decision to become an Orthodox Jew, for Los Angeles. Matisyahu, who has a wife and two children, had previously told reporters that he stayed in Crown Heights because of his wife’s ties to the community there.

The Matisyahu spokeswoman said that he was working on an album, though it was not clear on which label it would be released. Matisyahu wrote on his Twitter feed January 8 that the album would be titled “Spark Seeker.”

Some hold out hope that Matisyahu’s beard will return. “He didn’t say it’s gone. I feel like there’s a 2013 tour called ‘The Beard Is Back,’” said Chaim Marcus, a longtime friend of Matisyahu’s and a Lubavitcher who produced the hit music video “Ya’alili,”, which featured Matisyahu’s young son in peyes, or sidelocks, and a Batman sweatshirt.

But Matisyahu’s own words, published on his website amid the gossip-blog furor over his shave, leave little hope for the beard.

“No more Chassidic reggae superstar,” Matisyahu wrote.

(The Forward)

A Place for Gays in Orthodoxy

'Commitment Ceremony' Offers Welcome to Same-Sex Couples

Commitment to Faith: Rabbi Steve Greenberg presides over an ‘commitment ceremony’ for a gay couple.

By Steve Greenberg

Not a month goes by without a young person just out of the closet — or sometimes that person’s shocked parents — contacting me in search of Orthodox leaders to respond credibly to their questions. It was this reality that was on my mind as I confronted the backlash to a same-sex commitment ceremony I performed last November. In response, 100 rabbis signed a statement censuring me. While these rabbis may prefer to foist this challenge upon me, the truth is that, as rabbis, we are all responsible for the conflict between present halachic norms and the real lives of people. We are all responsible for the gay and lesbian kids who are growing up in Orthodox communities and want a future. And I am not the only Orthodox rabbi who believes so.

Three years ago I interviewed 20 Orthodox rabbis on their pastoral experiences with gay people and their families. Those interviews were taped and transcribed, and many of them are incredibly moving. I wish I could share these and other conversations I have had over the years with Orthodox rabbis whose honesty and decency, whose humility in the face of a difficult question, are not widely known. But the interviews are secret because I promised not to share them. I can quote a few rabbis whose views were written or spoken publicly — though I am still reluctant to use their names.

When asked by a group of students what his views on homosexuality were one illustrious Modern Orthodox rabbi responded that he used to know the answer to that question. He could point to chapter and verse. Now when a gay person comes to him for counsel, his answer is, in his own words: “I don’t know. I just don’t have enough information to give a clear answer. I have 612 mitzvot that I feel I’ve got a better handle on. Come to my shul and we’ll work on those together.” Among the most human and honest responses an Orthodox rabbi has ever given to this dilemma is “I don’t know.”


Rabbis who actually have an open conversation with gay people discover that no one chooses his or her sexual orientation. Another beloved leader of Modern Orthodoxy, a rabbinic communal leader and a founder of a yeshiva, wrote with deep empathy early in his career: “How can we deny a human being the expression of his physical and psychic being? If there’s a problem with the kettle, blame the manufacturer. Is it not cruel to condemn an individual for doing that which his biological and genetic make-up demand that he do?” This Orthodox rabbi is not afraid of articulating the profound theological and moral challenge posed by Halacha as it is presently applied.

Recent rabbinical statements demand life-long celibacy from gay and lesbian Jews. But a number of rabbis have shared with me their doubts about these guidelines for the simple reason that God does not demand the impossible from people. A well-respected Orthodox author, rabbi and educator has said in a public forum: “It is not possible for the Torah to come and ask a person to do something which he is not able to do.

Theoretically speaking, it would be better for the homosexual to live a life of celibacy. I just would argue one thing: It’s completely impossible. It doesn’t work. The human force of sexuality is so big it can’t be done.”
Given the unreasonable demand of life-long celibacy, it is very tempting for rabbis to believe that therapy can solve the dilemma. Rabbi Shmuel Kamenetsky has recently joined forces with JONAH, a Jewish “change therapy” organization, to claim that, as a matter of religious principle, since the Torah prohibits homosexual behavior the orientation must be, by necessity, a curable disease. Responding to this dangerous circular argument, another learned Orthodox rabbi and scholar, a man who has written extensively about homosexuality, has publicly said, “I am not under any compulsion to support a failed therapy in order to save myself from a distressing religious conflict.”

I trust that brave poskim, those willing to take the logic of empathy to heart and press the halachic system and the community toward greater responsibility, will soon rise up and truly employ the inner creativity of the Halacha to solve this dilemma. Those who believe this to be a fundamentally insolvable problem are, to my mind, lacking faith in both God and Torah and are dangerously risking the credibility of Halacha. Rav Yehuda once said, “We appoint to the Sanhedrin only someone who knows how to purify a reptile”. Rav Yohanan added that anyone who does not know how to prove a reptile pure and prove it impure 100 times cannot defend the accused.

The profound halachic questions of our moment (and this is not the only one) surely demand a generous sense of the possible. Rabbis will need to be as fearless as were their forebears to imagine the opposite of their suppositions. Especially when an accused is before the court, when the consequences are dire for a defendant, the most versatile and creative of minds are required to achieve a just verdict.

But even before or without such halachic innovation, communities bear a profound responsibility to gay people and their families. Just imagine that you are a parent and that your child of 16 or 20 or 24 has just come out to you. What is your first thought? What do you say? What you worry about most is whether he or she will be happy. When later that night you talk with your spouse, you begin to imagine what the child must have gone through, perhaps for years — the shame and dread — all without your knowledge. You feel guilt for a suffering that you could not alleviate, perhaps anger for being shut out of her life, and you mourn the loss of the hopes and fantasies of her future that now seem impossible. Perhaps you worry for his safety.

You think about what it was like for him, having played out in his mind over and over again how this moment would unfold, not knowing how you would respond, and terrified that he would lose your love.

While this scenario happens often enough, it is perhaps more common in frum, or religious, homes that teens don’t come out to family members at all. Many gay kids, when they arrive at puberty, turn sullen and detached and suffer from clinical depression. One out of six contemplates suicide. I was recently told that in a single New York City psychiatric clinic there is a suicide attempt by a gay Orthodox person yearly. Sadly, the healthiest of these young people, having read the tea leaves years earlier, decide that they will have no life in the Orthodox world and are no longer frum by the time their parents find out.

In fact, this sad outcome is not necessary. Frum families often do find their way toward accepting and embracing their gay children. While they typically struggle with their own faith questions, the harder challenge is managing communal expectations. Most are unaware that there are Orthodox communities that are already making room for gay people. Nowadays, to my knowledge, there are four or five such synagogues in the United States where gay frum individuals, couples and families can join and be comfortably integrated.

Frankly, whether for social or formal reasons, I do not expect these rabbis to conduct a same-sex commitment ceremony anytime soon. But full synagogue participation, board service, Sabbath dinner invitations, a Kiddush in honor of a new child and the celebration of bat mitzvah are all present-tense realities in these Orthodox synagogues. I and others are working to see that there are not five but twenty-five welcoming Orthodox congregations in the next ten years.

So, if I don’t expect any other Orthodox rabbi to conduct a commitment ceremony, why did I do it?

Because I am gay. Because I bear a unique responsibility that comes from a personal understanding of the conflict. Because I am now happily partnered in a 12-year relationship with an Orthodox man whom I love dearly, and we are raising the most terrific 1-year old little girl, who is the joy of our lives. I could never have imagined that any of this would be possible 35 years ago, when I was 20 years old.

I conducted this ceremony because I thought that it was time to tell your sons and daughters that are wondering what they can expect from life that they can remain committed to God and to the grand and transformative vision of Torah and mitzvot; that they can find companionship, create families and become active members of frum communities. And when loneliness gives way to the miraculous discovery of love, maybe they can raise that love to commitment with the hope that their families and friends, in a way different from most but still religiously meaningful, joyous and sweet, can dance with them.
 
Steve Greenberg is a senior teaching fellow at CLAL — the National Jewish Center for Learning and Leadership, and the author of “Wrestling With God & Men: Homosexuality in the Jewish Tradition” (University of Wisconsin Press, 2004).

(The Forward) 

Jan Perry Seeks Higher Calling

Black Councilwoman Wants To Be L.A.'s First Jewish Mayor

Courtesy of Jan Perry

Seeking Success: Councilwoman Jan Perry says she has ‘always been a seeker.’ That impulse led her to convert to Judaism three decades ago, and fuels her run for mayor of Los Angeles.

By Rex Weiner

Los Angeles — “I’ve always been a seeker,” Councilwoman Jan Perry told the Forward during a recent interview over dinner.

The African American politician was responding to a question about her conversion 30 years ago to Judaism. But her comment could also have applied to why she was running for mayor of America’s second-largest city.

Perry was dining not far from her downtown office at the core of the 9th District, which she represents.

Wearing a demure black dress and a large-beaded necklace, she perused the menu at Kendall’s Brasserie at the L.A. Music Center, while the supper crowd exited to catch the musical upstairs at the Ahmanson Theatre. As the restaurant hubbub shushed to a whisper, the councilwoman quietly ordered, and slyly requested that her shamelessly calorie-rich choice be off the record.

 

Jan Perry

 

If Jan Perry wins L.A’s mayoral election in 2013, the 56-year-old, three-term City Council member will make history as the city’s first woman mayor. A victory would also make Perry L.A’s first Jewish mayor.

 

The fact that Perry — who has been endorsed by Rep. Maxine Waters, former police commissioner Bernard Parks and former congresswoman Yvonne Burke, among others — is also African American may seem an unusual twist. But in the transracial, transcultural mix that is today’s Los Angeles, it actually places Perry solidly within the norm of Democratic mayoral hopefuls heading for primary balloting in June. 

The four declared candidates, who enjoy an electoral edge over the GOP in this predominantly Democratic city, boast a variety of twists on Jewishness that could ultimately factor into voters’ choices — or not.
Contenders include Perry’s City Council colleague Eric Garcetti, whose lineage is Jewish and Latino; city Controller Wendy Greuel, a non-Jew married to a Jewish filmmaker, with a following among the Hollywood elite; and Deputy Mayor Austin Beutner, a Michigan-born Jewish investment banker and millionaire philanthropist who counts former Mayor Richard Riordan among his endorsers.

“These candidates all have overlapping constituencies,” said Raphael Sonenshein, chairman of the political science department at California State University, Fullerton, and a close observer of Southern California politics. He reckons Perry has “reasonable prospects” of winning. The fact that she is Jewish, in his opinion, “doesn’t hurt,” especially in a city where Jews are 6% of the population but often contribute 16% to 18% of the vote. But the real question is: Will it help?

Perry’s early years were shaped by the progressive politics of Cleveland’s East Side suburbs, where she grew up amid post-war optimism and the rise of a new black middle class. Her father was an attorney who worked for Carl Stokes, the nation’s first black mayor of a major city. Her mother, with a master’s degree in medical social work, helped lead the local push for fair housing laws. Getting out the vote on a local level, and getting behind the 1960s civil rights movement on the national level, were family activities.

Los Angeles — When Perry arrived in L.A. in 1974 and enrolled at the University of Southern California’s journalism school, it was the post-Vietnam War era of Watergate, feminist ferment and a new dawn in L.A.’s politics. Tom Bradley, the second African American to be elected mayor of a major U.S. city, had been installed the year before by a historic coalition of the city’s African American and Jewish communities, breaking the grip the local white establishment had held on city government. “I admired his hard work, his quiet but persistent style, and the vision he had for the future of the city,” Perry wrote about Bradley on her website biography.

“She moved in a circle of bright young women, many of whom were Jewish,” recalled Rabbi Chaim Seidler-Feller of UCLA Hillel, in a later conversation. Through her studies with Seidler-Feller, Perry adopted Judaism. Looking back on that event, Perry said, “I think it was because I saw it as a way to serve the world.”

Perry earned a bachelor’s degree in journalism, cum laude, from USC, and then a master’s degree in public administration. Married to an attorney and settling into life as a Los Angelena, Perry’s path to public office began with work as a paralegal and with the presidency of her homeowner’s association. She tackled conflicts over historic preservation and land use, issues that are often at the heart of L.A. politics.

She worked first in the office of city Councilman Mike Woo and then became chief of staff for Rita Walters, the African American councilwoman for the Ninth Council District. When Walters left office due to term limits, Perry won the seat in 2001.

In the decade since, Perry has overseen the rebirth of L.A.’s downtown, with its new Arts District and L.A. Live entertainment complex. She continues to support a proposal for a new downtown stadium, in hopes of luring a National Football League franchise. The blighted South Central area of her district now enjoys two new wetlands recreation parks and preservation projects to restore the African American community’s historic Grand Avenue strip. For her efforts to boost the health of the local economy, as well as the health of its residents, she has been assailed as the “Hamburglar” for drawing up what one blogger called “freedom-destroying Socialist legislation to ban fast food joints from her district.”

Perry laughed at the mention of that accusation, poking at her gourmet meal. “Not every insult merits a response,” she said, quoting her favorite TV show, “Boardwalk Empire.” Nonetheless, she talked of two new grocery stores, a coffee shop and a farmer’s market opening in the area that has been described as a “food desert.” They’re the result of her push to expand healthy eating choices and a zoning moratorium on stand-alone fast-food outlets.

But she has run into problems on several fronts. A 14-acre plot of unused land in her district, cultivated by urban farmers in the wake of the 1992 riots, was reclaimed in 2006 by the owner — a Jewish developer. Subsequent evictions enforced by Perry not only brought down the calumny of urban farmers everywhere (and locally, with some anti-Semitic overtones), but also an Oscar-nominated 2008 documentary, “The Garden,” in which Perry was cast in a less than heroic role.

Perry also caught flak for her role as City Council president pro tempore, taking over City Hall in the absence of Mayor Villaraigosa and Council President Garcetti, at a time that coincided with the funeral of Michael Jackson. Perry extended police, sanitation and other services to help cover the cost of public mourning for the King of Pop, to the tune of about $4 million. With the city in dire financial straits — a $457 million projected shortfall on the $6.9 billion 2011-2012 operating budget — Perry scrambled to solicit private contributions to offset the costs.

Divorced after 16 years of marriage and with a daughter in college, Perry is shy about her private life, which could be tough under the scrutiny of a campaign. She did disclose a taste for ballroom dancing and that she makes her home downtown, close by her office.

“She’s warm, genuine, the opposite of pretentious,” effuses Rabbi Moshe Greenwald, who presides over Perry’s neighborhood synagogue, a loft known as The Downtown Shul, where Perry has celebrated the major holidays. Greenwald said he thought that Perry’s Judaism “plays a role in her sense of helping people.”

“I try to be a good listener,” Perry said, betraying some impatience with the political process. She recently resigned her pro tempore position, publicly declaring her “disgust” with the council’s backroom wheeling and dealing. “It’s no longer enough to do a good job, you have to fight,” she said.
In the battle for the top spot in L.A. City Hall, Perry’s fight has just begun.

(The Forward)

Tintin and the Anti-Semites

Young Adventurer Is Noble but Author's Past Questioned

Cartoon Hero: Tintin is nothing but an upright cartoon hero. But what about his Belgian creator, who has a history of anti-Semitism?

By Ezra Glinter

The setting: a tiny monarchy, poor but beautiful, on the Balkan Peninsula. The population is a mere 642,000 people, mostly peasants. The country’s main exports are wheat, mineral water, firewood, horses and violinists.

The scene: A ruffian has stolen the king’s scepter, but is caught just steps from the border. Documents are found in his pocket revealing a planned invasion by the neighboring fascist state. He belongs to a fifth column called the Iron Guard. Its leader’s name is Müstler.

The year: 1939.

Steven Spielberg works on the set of ‘Tintin.’

The country is Syldavia, a fictional creation of Belgian cartoonist Georges Remi in “King Ottokar’s Sceptre,” the eighth adventure of Tintin, famed boy reporter. In previous exploits Tintin battled gangsters in America, explored the pyramids in Egypt and became the confidant of Latin American revolutionaries. In coming years he would find the Yeti in Tibet, escape from a live volcano and go to the moon almost 20 years before the actual 1969 moon landing. Not least, he would go on a hunt for pirate treasure with his friend Captain Haddock, an adventure that, thanks to Steven Spielberg and 3D motion capture technology, is now on screens everywhere.

But “King Ottokar’s Sceptre” had a special significance. Though Syldavia was modeled on Albania, other historical parallels are evident. Remi — or Hergé, to use his nom de plume — identified the story as a “failed Anschluss,” recalling the 1938 annexation of Austria by Nazi Germany. Like all Tintin adventures the story is humorous and high-spirited, ending with our tuft-haired hero’s triumph and, in this case, his investiture with Syldavia’s Order of the Golden Pelican. But despite the good cheer, the condemnation of German expansionism shines through.

Hergé’s own stance was not so simple. Following the fall of Belgium in the summer of 1940, and after serving briefly in a Flemish infantry unit, Hergé accepted a job at the collaborationist Brussels newspaper Le Soir. (After the war he was arrested — four times — for collaboration.) Not only did his drawings appear alongside Nazi propaganda, but his next Tintin book, “The Shooting Star,” featured a hook-nosed, cigar-chomping financier named Blumenstein, who tries to subvert a scientific discovery for personal gain. The name was later changed to Bohlwinkel and the character’s country moved from America to the fictional São Rico, but the anti-Semitic implications of the caricature remained.

Of course, anti-Nazism and anti-Semitism were never mutually exclusive. But the problem posed by Tintin goes deeper than Hergé’s questionable World War II alliances. His first Tintin comic, “Tintin in the Land of the Soviets,” was a crude piece of anti-Soviet propaganda created for Le XXe Siècle, the right-wing Catholic newspaper whose children’s supplement, Le Petit Vingtième, Hergé edited for 12 years. His second book, the colonialist “Tintin in the Congo,” is even worse. Its depiction of Africans as childlike primitives has made some readers try to ban it from libraries and bookstores. In one panel an African woman bows before Tintin, exclaiming, “White man very great. White mister is big juju man!”

These episodes are confounding because, unlike his creator, Tintin is never a racist. In fact, his appeal rests on his inhumanly decent character. Tintin is good. Tintin is incorruptible. Tintin cannot be threatened or bribed. Tintin does not drink or smoke. And who could resist his checked plus fours and charming coif?

Tintin is also a perpetual defender of the oppressed. He bears witness to the plight of Native Americans who are evicted from their land, and he stands up for Chinese peasants against Japanese and Western imperialists. He stymies multinational corporations that would provoke war to get their hands on another oil field, and he frustrates unscrupulous arms dealers who would sell weapons to both sides. Together with his trusty dog Snowy he foils international drug smugglers, counterfeiters, gunrunners and modern-day slave traders. In the new film he helps catch a pickpocket and recovers Haddock’s family honor. How could the creator of such a paragon have been a racist?

Hergé’s transgressions have vexed Tintinologists for years. They are often explained by apologists as youthful follies stemming from a naïve acceptance of contemporary mores. Hergé himself claimed as much. In a lengthy 1975 interview with the French writer Numa Sadoul, he said: “I was fed on the prejudices of the bourgeois society in which I moved… I only know things about these countries that people said at the time…” It is easy to imagine that the Nazi occupation had a similar effect on Hergé’s outlook.

This explanation may seem like a pettifogging excuse, but in fact it is a damning indictment. It indicates not only a disturbingly acquiescent sense of morality but also, for a creative artist, a stunning failure of imagination.

Though some critics have tried to claim the Tintin comics as great works of literature, they are not. Despite their charms, they contain no three-dimensional characters. Rather, Hergé worked with types, albeit entertaining ones. Tintin is the pure Boy Scout hero. His mate, Captain Haddock, is an irresponsible but loyal drunk. The detectives Thomson and Thompson are bumbling slapstick nitwits. The famously deaf Cuthbert Calculus is the brilliant but slightly mad professor. In all these cases, Hergé’s characters are both refreshingly new and comfortingly familiar. But when it came to presumed racial characteristics, Hergé’s reliance on type backfired disastrously.

Yet Tintin has his attractions, besides his own unimpeachable character. Hergé’s ligne claire drawing style, in which all lines are given equal weight and all colors equal shade, has a certain modernist ésprit. Though Tintin’s adventures start in the late 1920s, his gusto (not to mention his wardrobe) belongs to the first part of the century — a time of technological creativity that, until the carnage of the First World War, seemed to promise a boundless future.

With this unclouded spirit it’s no wonder that Tintin’s popularity endures. To date, the books have been translated into over 50 languages and adapted into films, TV shows, exhibits and plays. There is a raft of Tintin paraphernalia for the discerning collector, from original copies of Le Petit Vingtième to Christmas ornaments to a 70-piece set of model cars whose originals are featured in the comics. He is even on the stamps of four different countries and a special edition of the 10-euro coin.

In his latest big screen incarnation, Tintin is both a disappointment as well as a great success. The plot of the movie is based primarily on “The Secret of the Unicorn,” but it weaves together original elements with bits of other volumes. Unfortunately, the stitching shows. Poor pacing and the elision of large chunks of the story leave the ending anti-climactic, and the overuse of action scenes doesn’t compensate for weaknesses in the plot. Chasing haphazardly from one country to the next was a prominent feature of early Tintin, when the books were produced first for weekly or daily newspaper publication, but Hergé later refined his plot structures, and the screenwriters should have done so as well. And Spielberg, being Spielberg, couldn’t help sticking in a family drama, a difficult feat in a story with an all-bachelor cast of characters.

But the motion capture technique does a surprisingly good job of translating Hergé’s aesthetic onto the big screen. Despite a number of scenes being thrown together in a disjointed way, it’s a pleasure seeing many episodes redone verbatim in the new medium. However murky his past, Tintin carries on undaunted.

(The Forward)

Israel acha selo de 1,5 mil anos usado para marcar pão

Selo marcava o pão distribuído na comunidade judaica da época bizantina

Um grupo de arqueólogos israelenses encontrou em Acre, no norte do país, um selo com forma de candelabro utilizado para marcar o pão há mais de 1,5 mil anos, informou nesta terça-feira a Direção de Antiguidades de Israel em comunicado. O selo, de pequeno tamanho e feito de cerâmica, deixava sobre a superfície do pão a figura de um candelabro de sete braços como o utilizado no segundo Templo de Jerusalém. Esta era uma forma de marcar o pão destinado às comunidades judaicas da época que viviam sob o Império Bizantino.

"Esta é a primeira vez que um selo deste tipo é achado em uma escavação científica controlada, o que torna possível determinar sua origem e sua data", afirmou Danny Syon, um dos diretores da escavação em um povoado rural aos arredores de Acre, cidade notoriamente cristã naquela época. Segundo os arqueólogos, o achado demonstra que os judeus viviam na região e que o pão era marcado para enviá-lo aos que residiam dentro da cidade, uma espécie do atualmente empregado selo "kosher" para produtos que respondem às estritas normas da cozinha judaica. 

O costume também se assemelha ao dos cristãos da época, que marcavam seus pães com uma cruz. Em letras gregas, ao redor do selo judeu, está o que parece ser o nome do padeiro, "Launtius", comum entre a comunidade judaica da época. 

David Amit, outro arqueólogo a cargo da escavação e especialista em selos de pão, explicou no comunicado que "o candelabro foi gravado no selo antes de colocá-lo no forno, e o nome do padeiro depois". "Disso deduzimos que os selos com a figura eram fabricados em série para os padeiros, e que cada um deles colocava depois seu nome", explicou. 

Na jazida arqueológica de Hurbat Uza foram encontrados até agora vários objetos que corroboram a existência de uma pequena comunidade judaica em torno de Akko, cidade milenar que, por sua estratégica situação geográfica, foi sempre ambicionada pelos diferentes conquistadores da Terra Santa. 

(Rua Judaica)

Morre Amigo Judeu Que Influenciou João Paulo II

Jerzy Kluger, que foi amigo de infância de João Paulo II e teve uma grande influência na revolucionária relação do pontífice com os judeus, teve sua morte anunciada nesta segunda-feira por amigos. Kluger, de 92 anos, morreu na véspera do ano-novo em um hospital de Roma, na Itália, por causa de complicações decorrentes de uma bronquite. Ele sofria do mal de Alzheimer e vivia em um asilo da zona leste da capital italiana.

Karol Wojtyla -que se tornaria o papa João Paulo II- foi colega e amigo de Kluger do começo da escola primária até o final do ensino médio, na cidade de Wadowice, no sul da Polônia. "O jovem Karol Wojtyla aprendeu muito sobre o judaísmo com Kluger", disse à Reuters o escritor italiano Gianfranco Svidercoschi, que foi assessor do falecido pontífice e lançou em 1993 um livro que aborda essa amizade, chamado "Carta a um Amigo Judeu".

 

"O jovem Wojtyla visitava a casa de Kluger em Wadowice, ajudava Jerzy com seus estudos, particularmente de latim, e começou uma amizade que influenciaria suas relações com os judeus pelo resto da vida dele", disse Svidercoschi. Os dois amigos perderam contato quando a Polônia foi invadida pela Alemanha nazista, em 1939, e só voltariam a se reencontrar em 1965. Durante a guerra, Kluger e seu pai foram presos pelos russos e enviados para um "gulag" (campo de trabalhos forçados) na Sibéria, de onde ele só seria solto após a invasão alemã à União Soviética. 

Ele então aderiu às forças polonesas que combateram junto com os Aliados na África e na Europa, sob o comando do general Wladyslaw Anders, e participou na crucial batalha de Monte Cassino, ao sul de Roma. Já no final da guerra, ao saber que sua mãe fora morta no campo de extermínio de Auschwitz, ele decidiu permanecer na Itália. Estudou engenharia em Turim e depois se mudou para a Inglaterra. Voltou a viver na Itália no começo da década de 1960, trabalhando com comércio exterior, e retomou o contato com Wojtyla quando o então arcebispo de Cracóvia foi a Roma para participar do Concílio Vaticano Segundo - até então, o futuro papa achava que seu amigo judeu havia morrido na guerra, e vice-versa.

Quando Wojtyla se tornou o primeiro papa não-italiano em 455 anos, em 1978, a amizade se intensificou, e Kluger ajudou a organizar reuniões do pontífice com seus ex-colegas de escola, em Roma ou durante visitas de João Paulo II a Wadowice. Kluger estava na sinagoga de Roma quando João Paulo II fez sua histórica visita de 1986, referindo-se aos judeus como "nossos adorados irmãos mais velhos". Na primeira visita do papa a Israel, em 2000, o amigo também estava na plateia que o viu discursar no memorial Yad Vashem, que homenageia vítimas do Holocausto.

A amizade perdurou até a morte de João Paulo II, em 2005.

(Rua Judaica)

Matisyahu raspa a barba - será que abandonou o judaísmo, ou surtou?

Matisyahu (cujo nome é Matthew Paul Miller) colocou o Twitterverse (universo dos twitters) e a internet em polvorosa por causa do enorme número de comentários em blogs depois que postou duas fotos do seu rosto recém-tosquiado, e um Tweet enigmático. 

"Esta manhã postei fotos no Twitter. Não sou mais um superstar do reggae chassídico. Desculpe pessoal, tudo que terão de mim será eu mesmo ... e não um pseudônimo. Quando me tornei religioso há 10 anos, foi um processo muito natural e orgânico. Foi a minha escolha – a minha jornada para a descoberta das minhas raízes judaicas e explorar a espiritualidade não através de livros, mas através da vida real. Em um certo momento senti a necessidade de aumentar o meu nível de religiosidade ... para me afastar da simples intuição e aceitar uma verdade suprema. Senti que para me tornar uma pessoa melhor eu precisava de regras - muitas delas, senão eu de alguma forma iria desmoronar. Eu estou voltando para mim mesmo. Confiando na minha bondade e na minha missão divina. Preparem-se para um ano maravilhoso cheio de música de renascimento. E para aqueles preocupados com o meu rosto barbeado não se preocupem, explicou no seu site. Evidentemente o músico se recusou a dar entrevistas em relação a este recente ato, explicou a sua porta-voz. No entanto em relação ao seu abandono do judaísmo que percorre a internet Matisyahu explicou. "Para todos aqueles que estão sendo incríveis, você é incrível. Para aqueles que estão confusos: hoje fui ao mikve e à sinagoga - muitos agradecimentos ‘World Wide Web’.

(Rua Judaica)

"Começar 2012 com uma notícia dessa, é realmente impressionante. Mas, entender que Matthew Miller não é mais o chassídico Matisyahu, é, de certa forma, muito legal. A ortodoxia, independente de qualquer religião, atrapalha. Só não queremos, como fãs, especialmente aqueles que estavam no Via Funchal em abril de 2010, para que ele não pare com aquelas letras e ritmos que nos fizeram emocionar, pular, ou até mesmo, se converter ao judaísmo. Foi escutando Youth, que eu tomei a decisão de me tornar parte do povo judeu. Lá se vai 3 anos e pouquinho..."

Sites pornô de Israel fazem sucesso com público palestino

Audiência árabe em sites com fotos de mulheres israelenses nuas chega a 10% do total

Os sites eróticos israelenses fazem sucesso entre os internautas de países árabes, a despeito do gelo diplomático entre seus respectivos governos e da distância entre os idiomas. "Em nossos servidores descobrimos que milhares de visitantes moram em Estados muçulmanos, com os quais nós não possuímos relações diplomáticas", contou a um jornalista israelense o empresário Nir Shahar, que gerencia o Ratuv ("úmido", em hebraico), um dos mais freqüentados sites eróticos de Israel.

Até 10% dos acessos diários nos sites pornôs de língua hebraica são originários de países como Irã, Arábia Saudita, Egito e Iraque. Alguns proprietários decidiram aproveitar o sucesso e abriram, com sucesso, versões dos portais em língua árabe. Outros, como Nir Shahar, acreditam que a tradução seja desnecessária. "Os vídeos e fotos que oferecemos não precisam de muita explicação", argumenta.

Uma preferência entre os visitantes islâmicos são as atrizes israelenses que interpretam funcionárias do exército, agentes secretas e policiais. "Existem tantos clientes árabes que assistem a esses vídeos que eles se tornam especialmente gratificantes", comenta Nir. "Embora por vezes é embaraçoso ter que explicar que aquelas são atrizes e não soldadas de verdade". Um dos mais clicados neste momento pelos internautas de fé islâmica é o filme "Nome em código: investigação profunda", uma história de espiões que parodia o caso verdadeiro de Mordechai Vanunu, o técnico israelense que denunciou os segredos nucleares do Estado hebraico. O "affaire Vanunu", no entanto, adquire um novo sentido no vídeo.A preferência demonstrada pelos sites em hebraico pode ser explicada a partir de diversos caminhos. Em primeiro lugar, não existem muitos sites eróticos em língua árabe - eles chegam a ser proibidos em países tradicionalistas. A opção pelas "soldadas", por sua vez, seria um modo de driblar os mecanismos de censura na internet que alguns Estados utilizam contra o acesso a sites israelenses. O último obstáculo é o preço do serviço. "O pornô certamente não traz a paz, mas pelo menos deste modo tiramos um pouco de dinheiro do bolso dos nossos inimigos", conclui um webmaster de Israel.

(Rua Judaica)

Lições da ortodoxia para fabricar um Anti-Semita

Cena um: durante uma cerimônia de luto, levanta-se um rabino ortodoxo para proferir algumas palavras. Numa sala com mais de 80 pessoas, parte dos quais amigos não-judeus da família, o Rabino conta a história (curtamente resumida aqui) de uma criança judia que viveu somente até os dois anos de idade e depois morreu repentinamente. Desconsolados, os pais tentam descobrir o que houve e o rabino local explica que a alma dessa criança era a mesma alma de um antigo sábio judeu que viveu muitos anos atrás. Infelizmente, segundo o Rabino, a mãe desse tal sábio não possuía leite então ele foi amamentado durante dois anos por uma ama de leite não-judia, fazendo com que sua alma ficasse impura. Explicou o Rabino que isso deixou uma mácula na alma do tal sábio, que só pode ser consertada muitas décadas depois, através do nascimento do bebê, esse sim alimentado com leite 100% judeu durante 2 anos e aí a alma estava consertada e pronta para ir ao paraíso.

Moral da história: leite de goy não presta

Cena dois: um amigo meu, cristão, que trabalhava voluntariamente com atendimento terapêutico a pessoas com problemas psicológicos foi buscar um paciente. Era um rapaz muito religioso. Meu amigo entrou na sinagoga para buscar o rapaz e logo vieram dois rabinos ortodoxos reclamar da presença de um não-judeu por lá. Como não entende Iídiche, meu amigo ouviu algo como “rkrkrkrkr GOY rkrkrkrkrkr GOY rkrkr GOYGOY”. Em seguida, o rapaz, que aparentemente não era tão louco assim, gritou com os mais velhos “Expulsem vocês! Querem expulsar? Expulsem vocês! Vocês não dizem que isso aqui é a casa de Deus?? Que todos são bem vindos? Que todos são iguais? Porque ele não pode ficar aqui?”

Moral da história: presença de goy em sinagoga não serve

Cena três: outro serviço religioso de luto, outro rabino ortodoxo contando. Outra história, só que agora uma variação do tema anterior. O mesmo bebê, também vive dois anos. Também morre inexplicavelmente. Segundo o rabino, trata-se de uma alma que viveu há muitos anos, nasceu na família do rei do País e foi educado por um padre muito sábio e muito inteligente. O padre era incrivelmente sábio e respeitado, mas ele tinha uma particularidade. Ele se afastava de todos e ficava recluso duas horas por dia dentro de um quartinho sem ninguém poder vê-lo. Um dia, o garoto se escondeu no quarto do padre e ficou observando. O padre tirou talit, tefilin e começou a rezar em hebraico. Surpresa! O padre era judeu. O garoto estudou judaísmo (era uma alma judaica perdida, afinal), abandonou o reino, se tornou sábio, mas deixou aquela imperfeição que foram os dois anos na casa do rei não-judeu. Novamente, contou-se que os dois anos de vida daquele bebê que tinha falecido serviu para consertar aquela alma e torná-la realmente pura o suficiente para o paraíso.

Moral da história: todos os padres são burros, exceto os que forem judeus

As três histórias relatadas aqui, duas delas presenciadas por esse autor e a terceira escutada de fonte confiável, têm em comum o profundo preconceito na forma como parte da comunidade vê a sociedade que está lá fora. Para alguém que tem trabalhado há mais de dez anos para melhorar a imagem do judaísmo, não posso nem começar a descrever o estrago que tais manifestações causam na mente de quem escuta essas coisas. Os inimigos estão aí fora bastante atentos a todo tipo de preconceito vindo da comunidade e usando isso diligentemente. Um exemplo disso foi durante um debate recente na Rede Record. Eu estava representando o lado de Israel e uma senhora árabe representava o lado palestino no conflito árabe-israelense. Durante o debate, ela tirou um folheto de uma sinagoga ortodoxa de São Paulo falando barbaridades racistas. Estrago irreparável.

Tenho plena consciência de que existem duas correntes distintas em relação ao judaísmo e que é preciso respeitar as diferenças entre elas para termos uma convivência harmônica e adequada à unidade do povo judeu. O bloco liberal tem como linha mestra adaptar a lei judaica à vida moderna, reinterpretando e concentrando a atenção sobre o espírito da lei ao invés da letra da lei. A linha ortodoxa prefere uma abordagem mais tradicional e literalista em relação aos textos judaicos, especialmente os escritos após a idade média, como o Shulchan Aruch. Se uma parte da comunidade prefere optar por trajes tradicionais pretos, observar os detalhes das regras de shabat, festas e kashrut, só me resta aplaudir essa manifestação de vigor judaico e diversidade. No entanto, quando isso envolve ofender sistematicamente (apesar de inconscientemente) os não-judeus, não podemos aceitar, pois é errado e contraproducente.

É verdade que todas as sociedades antigas tinham um forte elemento particularista. Em praticamente todas as cidades gregas, os estrangeiros (não-gregos) eram tratados como sub-humanos. O nome Xenos (estrangeiro) é a equivalência grega do nosso “goy”. Fenícios, babilônios e muitos outros tinham leis e uma cultura que discriminava aqueles que estão de fora. A organização primitiva de todos os povos era focada na preservação do núcleo do grupo. No entanto, no contexto do século XXI, essa visão é absolutamente anacrônica e inaceitável sob a ótica das sociedades livres. Em um País igualitário e acolhedor como o Brasil, tais manifestações soam ainda mais graves.

Fazer essas afirmações não significam de modo algum ser anti-ortodoxo. Longe disso. Tenho acompanhado o trabalho das sinagogas ortodoxas na comunidade e reconheço o enorme valor que eles tem oferecido no sentido de envolver mais judeus nos serviços religiosos, atraindo jovens, fazendo eventos, divulgando as festas judaicas para a comunidade. O fato de haver sinagogas ortodoxas nos mais variados bairros da cidade fez a ida à sinagoga uma possibilidade real para milhares de pessoas, um valor incalculável no contexto do caos urbano que é São Paulo. Também não estou afirmando que absolutamente todas as manifestações de preconceito vêm do lado ortodoxo da comunidade. Rabinos liberais não estão completamente imunes a isso. No entanto, analisando em termos gerais, é bastante claro que as manifestações de intolerância vêm esmagadoramente do lado ortodoxo da comunidade. Vemos também que uma parte significativa deles continue proferindo pérolas de preconceito como as três citadas no início do texto e produzindo inimigos a toque de caixa. Sendo bem franco, se eu fosse cristão e viesse um judeu sugerir que o leite de uma mãe cristã torna a alma impura eu certamente não ficaria nada feliz. Como você leitor se sentiria?

Não acho que os casos que citei sejam feitos deliberadamente ou com o intuito de ofender ninguém. A sensação que fica é que existe um caldo de cultura onde os jovens estudantes de Yeshivá são imersos e acabam considerando como certa a idéia de que judeus são melhores que os outros. É preciso mudar isso e tal iniciativa só pode partir de dentro do próprio movimento. Rabino é rabino, seja liberal ou ortodoxo. O que um rabino diz é escutado e levado em conta mesmo fora da comunidade, pois essa profissão implica ser um porta voz do judaísmo. Quando um líder religioso islâmico faz afirmações horrendas sobre Israel, isso reflete sobre todos na percepção do Islã. O mesmo ocorre conosco. Quando um rabino ortodoxo fala, está se manifestando em nome do judaísmo, então não se pode levar levianamente os discursos.

Se queremos realmente ser aceitos, é preciso também aceitar o outro, com respeito genuíno.

(Pletz.com)

"Israel no es el país de los ultra ortodoxos"

 El rabino principal ashkenazi, Yona Metger, reaccionó duramente contra la exigencia de los ultra ortodoxos (jaredim) de operar líneas de autobuses "kosher" en sus vecindarios, señala un reporte del diario Yediot Aharonot.


Metzger subrayó que el público ultra ortodoxo no tiene derecho de imponer sus convicciones sobre el resto de la población.

"No podemos ser los dueños del mundo. Este no es el país del público ultra ortodoxo", afirmó Metzger "No tenemos la autoridad para imponer nuestras opiniones sobre los otros. Este es un espacio público".


En referencia al incidente en el que una pasajera fue exigida sentarse en la parte trasera del ómnibus en el camino entre Ashdod y Jerusalén, Metzger afirmó que "si queremos separación, establecer una empresa especial de transporte para ciertas líneas es legítimo; pero entonces seremos nosotros los dueños".

"Pero mientras paguemos y se trate de una empresa pública que no solamente sirve al público ultra ortodoxo – ¿qué podemos hacer?"

Por su parte, la Ofician del Rabino Principal sefaradí, Shlomo Amar, señaló en un comunicado que una persona puede ser estricta consigo misma pero no con los otros. Si los haredim quieren ser estrictos en sus propios autobuses, déjenlos. Pero imponerse al resto de la gente es irrelevante".

(Aurora Israel)

Milagres em Ação

Na competição pela vida, ao correr para cumprir nossas obrigações, cuidar das crianças, fazer o chefe feliz, ficar felizes nós mesmos, é muito fácil negligenciar a presença da Luz do Criador em cada momento. É fácil ignorar o milagre chamado VIDA.

Você alguma vez já se olhou no espelho ou acordou no meio da noite e perguntou: “Quem sou eu?”. Geralmente, esta pergunta também aparece quando estamos meditando ou em momentos de extremo estresse. Sempre que isso acontece, esses são os momentos de entender o seu Criador e o papel quevocê desempenha no grande esquema da vida.

Na Kabbalah, Deus é entendido como a energia incrível que criou o universo e tudo o que ele contém. Os termos que usamos para descrever essa energia são Luz, Luz do Criador e Força da Luz do Criador.

Devido às nossas mentes limitadas e racionais, esses termos tendem a se tornar expressões vazias. No instante em que os lemos, uma imagem mental se forma em nossas mentes, algo externo a nós (para muitos é um velho com uma longa barba branca ou algo do gênero).

O Criador, Luz ou Deus. Essas palavras finitas falam da infinita Força invisível de bondade encontrada bem lá no fundo de cada um de nós e ao nosso redor; a Força que nos criou e que nos protege.

Quando nos conectamos com esta Força, nossos medos desaparecem e os conflitos internos e externos  se transformam.

Assim, a pergunta é: como mantenho uma conexão com o meu Criador, com o imortal que habita em mim? Nenhum de nós tem tempo de ficar sentado meditando o dia inteiro ou de subir uma montanha e lá ficar todo o tempo que desejarmos. Temos trabalho, dívidas a pagar, esposos e filhos.

A chave é entender que tudo que ocorre é um milagre.
Os kabalistas ensinam que a Luz do Criador (bênçãos, plenitude, paz de espírito) é revelada a uma pessoa dependendo da sua consciência. Colocado de forma simples, isso significa que quando uma pessoa está consciente e sabe que existe um Criador, e que essa Força governa o mundo inteiro, então ela atrai para si a Luz do Criador. A consciência é o receptor que atrai a Luz.

Um dos maiores motivos por que às vezes nos esquecemos da existência do Criador é a “natureza”. Vemos o sol nascer toda manhã e se por à noite, vemos as marés indo e vindo; vemos um sistema que parece funcionar mecanicamente e por si só. Não vemos na superfície sinais de um plano e da providência Divina. A fim de neutralizar esse equívoco, o Criador, de tempos em tempos, realiza o que é conhecido como um milagre.

No entanto, o propósito do milagre não é o milagre em si. Mais importante, o propósito do milagre é nos lembrar de que existe um Criador que governa este mundo – que faz o sol nascer pela manhã e se por à noite. Não existe realmente diferença entre um milagre e a natureza! Tudo é um milagre. A natureza é simplesmente os constantes milagres do Criador em ação.

Uma vez que essa ideia seja verdadeiramente incutida em nossa mente, passamos a compreender que tudo é um milagre; cada respiração que damos, cada manhã em que despertamos.

E existem muitas maneiras de se manter conectado e em contato. Comprometa-se a fazer uma prática diária que funcione para você, usando as diversas ferramentas da Kabbalah que se encontram disponíveis. E me conte o que acontece com você nesse processo.

Believe in Yourself

The Zohar, the main text of Kabbalah, teaches us that the Light cannot be revealed to us without challenges and problems. That's simply how the Light travels to us—through the effort we make at choosing Light over dark. The obstacles and challenges that appear in our lives are not really our “enemies.” In fact, the difficulties we face were created to help us gain strength for the spiritual growth that is the true purpose of our lives.

This is a very basic kabbalistic principle: We receive Light depending on the difficulty of the actions we undertake. By meditating on this statement over the course of the coming week, we will do more than gain deeper understanding of its truth. We can also connect with the Supernal energy that will allow us to overcome obstacles and thereby acquire the strength that they are intended to bring us.

When I think of all the obstacles we face in our daily lives, the most challenging is self-doubt. Most of us spend our waking hours beating ourselves up, creating scenarios of doom and gloom. We are truly our own worst enemy.

Every one of us comes to this life to accomplish great things, but our self-doubt keeps us from realizing this greatness. It is the shrewdest trick the dark angel has in its bag.

Every time you are going through doubt, every time you catch yourself thinking “I am not good enough” or “what difference will my small actions make,” it is essential to remember that there is Light waiting patiently a step behind these thoughts.

Every time you are in the throes of uncertainty, every time you can’t concentrate because of it, grab a volume of the Zohar or connect with the 72 Names of God! Hooking up with these spiritual tools will fortify you in your battle against self-doubt.

The Light never gives us something we can’t handle. Believe in yourself, believe in your God-given powers. Face the doubts head on and you will see and experience amazing things.

 
All the best,
Yehuda Berg

Be a Manager

We have relationships with everything—people, places and things. And obviously the relationships that are in our immediate proximity are more intimate than the relationships we maintain with the rest of the world.

For the majority of us, the most common relationship—or rather, the way we relate to people, places and things—is possession. We think we own things like cars and houses, even children and partners, money, talents and the biggest one—time.

Yet when we really look at it, especially through the eyes of Kabbalah, we come to understand that this is not so. It is not possible to possess anything.

Care for? Yes.

Use? Yes.

But possess... no.

“You can't take it with you,” as the old adage goes. And yet it's the idea of possession that lies at the heart of all fear, war and conflict.

So how can we make our relationships more about caring and less about possession?

Be a manager.

Everything in our life comes to us to manage; for us to grow, use, cultivate, care for and many times, to then set free. The consciousness of being a manager frees us from the tension of possession and fear. To see ourselves as managers of everything we receive, including our bodies, encourages our innate capacity to “care for with dignity.” It is a much more liberating way of relating to the things we are privileged to receive in life.

 As you give and receive gifts, love, warmth, respect, music, food and Light, focus on being the best manager you can be. Manage your time, your words, your thoughts, and your love—even your family—as though they are only given to you so you can take care of them in the best possible way to reveal Light.

All the best,
Yehuda Berg

Love Thy Neighbor - Anyway

Turn on the TV, go to a news website, or read any newspaper at this time of year and you will be sure to find some beautiful stories of sharing, hope, and love. On both a small and a large scale, people have helped other people during this holiday season. This is the time of year when we go out of our way to give and to be a part of something bigger than ourselves, which is a great energy—an energy that creates miracles.

But according to the kabbalists, it’s not enough to have this consciousness once a year during the holidays.  It is comfortable to share at this time because ‘tis the season to do so. But what happens now that the holidays have passed and we all go back to work? It is so easy to fall back into our routines: thinking about what we want, what we need.  But if we really want to bring about an evolution in the world, if we really want to make a difference, then we have to look for ways to share our energy so that we can improve the lives of others.

Most religions and philosophies in the world can agree on one tenet: Love your neighbor as yourself. Like sharing during the holiday season, this is easy to do, especially when we like the person we are supposed to love. But what happens when we don’t like our neighbor, or we are jealous of our colleague, or we resent our parents? Do we still love them as we would love ourselves? For most of us, the answer would have to be no.

It's easy to buy a coffee for a friend, but what about a coffee for the person who pushes all our buttons? Are we able to extend human dignity to the people we don't agree with or get along with? This, then, is our challenge and our power: to extend tolerance to those who are different from us—not because we are “good people” or it’s the right thing to do, but because doing so brings us closer to achieving our potential.

For the kabbalist, the golden rule is not simply to "love your neighbor as yourself," but, even more so, to “love your neighbor as yourself, when it is difficult." It is only when we love when it is difficult that we remove the layers of negativity that separate us from the Light of the Creator.

Kabbalah says that every time we do a negative action, hurt someone else, or find ourselves in a place of anger, we create a negative angel and open a space for bitterness to grow and fester. Who are these bitter people? Bitter people feel victimized or confused or believe that others don’t understand them. Bitter people are people that are totally involved with their ego, with their Desire to Receive for the Self Alone.

So I challenge you to take advantage of this time of year, for it is a time of cleansing, not of our souls but of our hearts. We have the chance to remove any sadness and bitterness we have within so that we can share when it is hard to share and love when it is difficult to love.

Remember, as long as we are alive, there is a spark in us that belongs to the Light of the Creator. But every time we think and act like victims, we deny that energy that was given to us by the Divine Force. So let us use this energy. Let us be a part of the Light in the world, not just at this time but for the whole year to come.

A Time For Miracles

This week is Chanukah, and according to the kabbalists, this is the holiday of miracles.
But what do we mean when we say "miracles"?
At Chanukah, we speak about the miracle that one day's-worth of oil lasted for eight days. In truth, the real miracle is not what happened in those eight days but what has happened and continues to happen during this week throughout the generations. Chanukah is the time when we can return our consciousness to the place where all that exists is Light. This is the miracle available to us during this week: access to a dimension of pure Light and perfection.
If we are not a part of that Energy, then we are finite. Without Light, we are just physical beings in physical bodies: We wake up, go to work, come home, watch TV and go to bed, only to wake up the next day and do it all over again.

When we light the candles of Chanukah, we are actually igniting the Light within ourselves—the Light that binds us with all the other souls of humanity and elevates us beyond the physicality and limitations of the "me." And when there are enough people that are connected to this Light, with everyone fighting against the negativity within themselves, the Cosmic Energy will come down and tell us, "I'll be there with you all."

This week, we have the opportunity to really understand that regardless of the circumstances— whether we are sick or well, whether we are in a good space or a bad one, whether we are financially sound or a little bit rocky—all there is, truly, is Light. And we are candles.
The minute we forget this, we have forgotten why we were put on this earth in the first place. When we find ourselves in the dark, however, it takes only one little candle to make the difference between being able to see our path or not being able to see it.

And that is the real miracle of Chanukah.

Enxergando o Fim no Começo

Com a energia e a Luz que se encontram disponíveis para nós esta semana, podemos nos conectar com uma forma mais elevada de entendimento, normalmente não disponível na dimensão física.

Para conseguir fazer isto, podemos começar com um insight básico sobre a sabedoria da Luz do Criador. Da perspectiva da Luz, o começo e o fim de qualquer evento ocorre no mesmo instante; a Luz enxerga a causa e o resultado simultaneamente. Cada detalhe da árvore já crescida existe dentro da sua semente. Os Kabalistas chamam isso de “o fim no começo”.

Para nós, no entanto, o resultado final de uma ação é ambíguo no momento da sua concepção, e a forma como as coisas começam geralmente é muito diferente da forma como terminam. Às vezes isso funciona para o melhor, mas muitas vezes um início bastante positivo leva a um final negativo.

Portanto, não basta que o começo de um empreendimento seja bom. Mesmo com o melhor começo, não existe certeza sobre o resultado, porque a distância entre o começo e o fim pode ser muito maior do que imaginávamos. Nosso trabalho espiritual é manter nossa força e manifestar essa força até o fim de todas as nossas iniciativas. 

Isto não é nem um pouco fácil; geralmente devemos seguir no caminho que escolhemos sem uma visão clara de onde ele vai nos levar.

Esta semana, podemos nos conectar com uma energia de certeza e coragem que nos dá poder para confrontar esse desafio, bem como nos ajuda a manter nossas boas intenções até completarmos tudo o que fazemos. Na verdade, podemos ganhar o poder Divino de unir “o fim com o começo”, porque saberemos que a negatividade não transformará nem corromperá nossos esforços.

Esse presente verdadeiramente maravilhoso e essa grande oportunidade vêm com um ensinamento igualmente importante: o progresso ao longo do nosso caminho espiritual requer consistência e comprometimento até o final. Muito frequentemente nos satisfazemos e nos tornamos complacentes com a nossa espiritualidade, o que pode ter consequências altamente destrutivas.

Essa não é uma semana para negligenciar nosso desenvolvimento espiritual, para “dormir no ponto”. Toda vez que conseguirmos ir além das nossas barreiras auto impostas (preguiça, dúvida, insegurança, raiva, apatia), poderemos obter o poder de colocar essa sabedoria em ação.

Tudo de bom,

Yehuda Berg

Tudo que precisamos é de Amor (All We Need's Love)

A maioria de nós, em um momento ou outro, já lutou com o amor. Tivemos nossos corações partidos, nos tornamos dependentes ou simplesmente não sentimos amor algum. Mas não importa o que possamos pensar, não importa quão duros nossos corações tenham se tornado por vezes, não podemos fugir da verdade – precisamos de amor e precisamos dar amor.

Não permita que a aparente simplicidade do amor torne você cego para sua importância. Esta semana, o Zohar nos traz dois ensinamentos incrivelmente belos sobre o assunto.

1. A capacidade de amar e a qualidade do nosso amor é um presente da Luz do Criador.

2. Quanto mais usarmos nosso amor de forma positiva, compartilhando, mais amor receberemos para compartilhar. Por outro lado, se usarmos nosso amor de forma egoísta e negativa, então nossa capacidade de amar diminuirá.

Se você entender e praticar esses ensinamentos, não só aumentará a quantidade e a qualidade do amor que terá em sua vida, como também a quantidade de amor que se revelará no mundo. Pelo Zohar, fica claro que devemos correr atrás e aproveitar todas as oportunidades de compartilhar o nosso amor.

Outro segredo poderoso sobre o amor é que cada um de nós influencia a forma como os canais desse mesmo amor se abrem e fecham para o mundo!  Quando não estamos amando ou quando usamos nosso amor para manipular ou punir, estamos diminuindo o amor existente no mundo.

Nossas ações importam. Tudo está conectado. É importante apreciar nosso poder, que infelizmente a maioria de nós subestima.

Os efeitos das nossas ações nesse mundo físico se espalham pelos mundos espirituais. Assim como nossas ações reverberam através dos Mundos Superiores, sua ressonância se torna cada vez mais forte, de forma muito semelhante ao Efeito Borboleta. Em 1972, os cientistas explicaram o fenômeno extraordinário de que o menor dos atos em um lugar pode ter um efeito imenso do outro lado do mundo (o exemplo que usaram foi o bater das asas de uma borboleta no Brasil causando um tornado no Texas).

Os kabalistas têm conhecimento deste fenômeno há mais de quatro mil anos. Mas eles o levam um passo adiante: uma ação espiritual aparentemente pequena, um simples ato de compartilhar, pode fazer com que uma incrível quantidade de Luz seja revelada no mundo.

Infelizmente, como nossos sentidos são limitados a enxergar apenas essa dimensão física, subestimamos de forma grosseira o efeito positivo das nossas ações e certamente dos nossos atos aparentemente menores. Precisamos lembrar constantemente que nosso poder é muito maior do que nos permitimos acreditar e que o efeito positivo das nossas ações – sejam elas grandes ou pequenas – é muito mais do que jamais poderíamos imaginar.

Uma coisa é certa sobre o mundo atual: não existe suficiente amor sendo compartilhado por um número suficiente de pessoas, e todos nós precisamos assumir essa responsabilidade e reconhecer que estamos contribuindo para isso.

Tudo de bom,
Yehuda

 

"Como diria os Beatles, all we need is LOVE!!!!!"

A emoção da primeira vez

“Será que causei algum impacto hoje?”

O Zohar ensina que você tem que estar em posição de agir e de compartilhar o tempo todo. É importante perguntar a si mesmo: “Estou causando algum impacto no mundo com tudo o que faço? Estou fazendo a diferença?” As únicas coisas que nos impedem de ter esses pensamentos são: 1) achar que temos “o direito de” e 2) apegos. Achar que temos “o direito” é o que nos faz pensar que estamos muito cansados para compartilhar; e os apegos nos dizem que outros podem fazer aquilo – nós não somos os únicos a ter que carregar o mundo.

O que é se achar “no direito de”? É uma consciência de “Eu mereço”. É um sentimento de que temos direito a recompensas, privilégios especiais ou reconhecimento, com base no mérito pessoal, na realização, ou simplesmente por sermos quem somos. É ter um sentimento de superioridade, como, por exemplo, ao dizer “Tenho tanta experiência, você deveria me escutar”.

Achar-se “no direito de” é toda situação em que bloqueamos as possibilidades de algo acontecer, porque achamos que sabemos ou enxergamos as coisas da forma correta.

Alguns podem confundir isso com auto-estima. Ter confiança em si próprio é ótimo, saber que você é bom em alguma coisa também é importante. No entanto, a distância entre a confiança saudável e achar-se no direito a algo é bem curta, e ainda assim faz toda a diferença entre crescer espiritualmente e permanecer estacionado no mesmo lugar durante anos a fio.

O que são apegos? Seus dias estão repletos deles! São as coisas que você não escolhe fazer, mas faz por hábito, desde a pasta e a escova de dentes que você usa até acordar em um determinado horário de manhã ou comer as mesmas comidas. Apego é sentar-se no mesmo lugar na sala de aula todos os dias, sair com as mesmas pessoas, ir aos mesmos restaurantes... você já entendeu o que eu quero dizer. São aquelas coisas que fazemos para criar caminhos “seguros” na nossa vida.

Como nos livrar desse sentimento de achar que se tem “o direito de”? Abra mão do que você acha que sabe ou merece.

Como nos livramos dos apegos? Abra mão de algo que você faz o tempo todo. Escolha um apego e mude-o. Faça algo que você jamais faria, pare de se comportar da mesma forma – saia de você mesmo. Por quê? Para que você receba mais do que tem em sua vida neste momento.

Abra mão desta ideia de que existem coisas que você nunca faz – tal como “nunca vou ao teatro, nunca falo em público...”. Perceba que você pode fazer mais. Se você fizer essas coisas, elas o tornarão uma pessoa melhor? SIM. Porque aquilo será uma restrição (ou seja, não será algo natural para você).

Até mesmo um caminho espiritual pode se tornar um apego caso vire um hábito. Você tem que escolhê-lo repetidamente para que não se transforme em apego; do contrário, será religião e não espiritualidade. Se você perder sua consciência, deixa de ser espiritual.

Se você não está vivendo a vida que deseja viver, é porque os “direitos” e apegos estão impedindo que você mude – que deixe sua zona de conforto.

Meu pai e mestre, o Kabbalista Rav Berg, gosta de dizer: “Os navios ficam mais seguros quando permanecem no porto, mas não é para isso que são construídos”. Encontramos motivos (negação, medos) para não compartilharmos e para não sairmos de nós mesmos. No entanto, precisamos saber o que o Zohar diz: Se perdermos nossos “direitos” e apegos, podemos obter controle e conseguir coisas que achávamos que não poderíamos ter.

É hora de sair do processo de “cozinhar seus miolos”; de ficar refletindo sobre as coisas o tempo todo. Saia da sua cabeça! Você encontrará todos os motivos para não fazer algo, se ficar refletindo muito sobre aquilo.

Seja simples. Faça. Aja. Mova-se.

Tudo de bom,

Yehuda Berg

Enxergando a Verdadeira Realidade

Se estivermos no caminho espiritual, vamos ter que batalhar. Não é fácil. É difícil abandonar nossos medos, é difícil parar de ter inveja, é difícil ficarmos trabalhando em nós mesmos todo o tempo.

A parte mais difícil é enxergar – enxergar a verdadeira realidade. Quantas vezes olhamos para trás, para uma amizade ou um relacionamento amoroso rompido e pensamos com nossos botões: “O que foi que eu vi naquela pessoa?”.

A verdade é que não enxergamos. Como o Zohar, o principal texto da Kabbalah, diz, “os olhos não conseguem perceber tudo”.

Isso porque estamos presos no momento, presos na ilusão dos cinco sentidos.
Então, qual é a resposta? Como desvencilhamo-nos desta armadilha?
Descascamos as camadas do nosso ego.
Meu pai e mestre, o Kabalista Rav Berg, diz que nossa alma é como um abajur que cobrimos com camadas de véus. Nossa natureza egoísta oculta a Luz dentro de nós. Eu, eu, eu, eu, eu. “Não acredito que ele me disse aquilo”. “O que eles vão pensar de mim?” “Olhe para mim, sou ótimo”. “Olhe para mim, sou patético”.

Estarmos constantemente obcecados conosco nos impede de enxergar o que realmente está acontecendo.

Somente quando removemos nosso ego, pedaço por pedaço, somos capazes de enxergar a verdade nas situações e nas pessoas.

O segredo é enxergar os outros em primeiro lugar e enxergar-nos depois. Somente então poderemos ter o mérito de nos elevar acima das limitações dos cinco sentidos e ligar o nosso sexto sentido.

O que é exatamente o sexto sentido? É a capacidade de enxergar algo que nunca tínhamos visto antes; de conseguir num relance a resposta para perguntas a muito formuladas.

Afinal de contas, o que é Kabbalah? É aprender a receber. E recebemos não através do intelecto, mas através da conexão com a Luz.

Esta semana, as forças do universo estão nos impulsionando a enxergar o nosso propósito; a perceber aquilo que normalmente nos escapa. Recebemos a oportunidade de ver aquilo para o que normalmente somos cegos, simplesmente deixando de lado o nosso ego.

As seguintes ferramentas podem nos ajudar a nos conectar com esta influência positiva:

• O compartilhar transformador
• Sair da zona de conforto
• Remover o interesse pessoal

E como sempre, escanear o Zohar e os 72 Nomes de Deus são aliados em nossa batalha para sentir a alegria que o nosso Criador planeja para nós.

Experimente fazer isso – você vai gostar do resultado.

Tudo de bom,
Yehuda Berg

Fidel Castro, l'homme "qu'on a le plus souvent tenté d'assassiner"

A la tête de Cuba depuis 1959, Fidel Castro, 85 ans, éloigné du pouvoir depuis 2006 …

A la tête de Cuba depuis 1959, Fidel Castro, 85 ans, éloigné du pouvoir depuis 2006 pour raisons de santé, est entré dans le Livre Guinness des records comme "la personne qu'on a le plus souvent tenté d'assassiner", soit 638 fois, selon un site officiel cubain.

"Le dirigeant historique de la Révolution cubaine, Fidel Castro, est la personne qu'on a le plus souvent tenté d'assassiner, selon ce qu'indique le Livre Guiness des records et les archives de l'Agence centrale de renseignement (CIA) américaine, principale commanditaire de ces tentatives d'homicides", indique le site Cubadebate (www.cubadebate.cu).

Cubadebate affirme que jusqu'en 2006, lorsqu'il a laissé les rênes du pouvoir à son frère Raul, "on comptait 638 tentatives d'assassinats contre lui, quasiment toutes dirigées par la CIA".

"Les méthodes utilisées pour le tuer ont été multiples, mais toutes ont échoué: des snipers, des explosifs dans ses chaussures, du venin injecté dans un cigare, jusqu'à une petite charge explosive dans une balle de base-ball, entre autres", recense le site.

Selon le site officiel, "depuis qu'il a pris la tête de la Révolution cubaine qui a triomphé en 1959, on a commencé à planifier son élimination physique" et "parmi les plus intéressés" à sa disparition "il y a les agences nord-américaines d'espionnage et de subversion".

Le "Guinness World Records" est un livre à parution annuelle, qui se présente comme le plus vendu au monde après la Bible.

(Yahoo! Québec)

Devilish Pact With Europe’s Right Wing

Israeli Nationalists Form Common Cause With Anti-Islamists

 

Anti-Muslim Alliance: European far-right groups are targeting growing Muslim populations. They are finding surprising allies on Israel’s right wing.

By Liam Hoare

Economic upheaval and strife in Europe have historically begat fierce nationalism, xenophobia and anti-Semitism. Faced with a serious debt crisis, severe budget cuts, grim austerity, rising unemployment and creeping inflation, the current depression is no exception.

Since the fall of 2008, reported incidents of anti-Semitism have risen across the continent. In Britain, a record number of anti-Jewish crimes was noted in 2009. This year in the Netherlands, the number of Jews who reported being verbally harassed, and even physically attacked, climbed. More recently, a restored Jewish cemetery in the Republic of Kosovo was desecrated with Nazi grafitti.

What is fundamentally different about Europe’s current condition, however, is that anti-Semitism has been largely superseded in the organized far-right by suspicion at best, and hatred at worst, of the continent’s growing Muslim community. As Australian writer Antony Loewenstein puts it: “Yesterday’s anti-Semites have reformed themselves as today’s crusading heroes against an unstoppable Muslim birth rate on a continent that now sees Islam as an intolerant and ghettoized religion.”

More curious still is that via this Islamophobia (for lack of a better term), Europe’s extremist parties have entered into a disturbing marriage of convenience with sections of the Israeli right. In December 2010, politicians including Heinz-Christian Strache of Austria’s Freiheitliche Partei and Filip Dewinter of Vlaams Belang in Flemish Belgium visited Israel and signed the Jerusalem Declaration, “guaranteeing Israel’s right to defend itself against terror.” On a separate occasion, Members of Knesset Aryeh Eldad (National Union) and Ayoob Kara (Likud) met with members of a Russian neo-Nazi delegation that also toured Yad Vashem.

The English Defense League — not a political party but, rather, a thuggish and violent mob made up of the same sort of white working-class males who formed the rank-and-file of Mosley’s Blackshirts — has described the bond between themselves and Israel in the following terms: “In many ways there are parallels to be drawn between the radicalization that has infected the Palestinians and their supporters and the radicalization that continues to breed in British mosques. In this way at least, the people of England and the people of Israel have a great deal in common.”

Don’t be fooled. In the discourse of the European right, “extremism” and “radicalism” with regard to Islam are terms used to couch deeper concerns and prejudices, so as to broaden the movement’s appeal. Overtures to the existential security of Israel as a bulwark in the Middle East are in one respect an extension of this desire for wider acceptance and a detoxification of the far right brand.

But mutual cooperation between the Israeli and European fringes can perhaps best be attributed to a shared obsession with blood, soil and demography, as well as an opposition to multiculturalism and a desire to fashion mono-ethnic and mono-religious states.

The number of Muslims in Europe has grown, from 29.6 million in 1990 to 44.1 million in 2010. Muslims now represent 10% of the overall population in France. The fear, as expressed here by the British National Party (BNP), is that because the Muslim world’s “excess population” is “currently colonizing” the continent, the “indigenous British people will become an ethnic minority in [their] own country well within 60 years — and most likely sooner.”

Rightist factions thus demonize Muslim immigrants as the inculcators of any national maladies. The BNP again blame immigration for “higher crime rates, demand for more housing, longer hospital waiting lists, lower educational standards, and higher unemployment.”

At a time when Jews are diminishing as a total share of Israel’s wider population, Avigdor Lieberman rails against a two-state solution that calls for “a Palestinian territory with no Jewish population and a Jewish state with a minority group comprising over 20% of the general population,” the Arabs. His party, Yisrael Beiteinu, has described Israeli Arabs as a fifth column “likely to serve as terrorist agents on behalf of the Palestinian Authority.”

The religious right in Israel also has courted the European fringe, with MK Nissam Ze’ev (Shas) arguing that, “At the end of the day, what’s important is their attitude, the fact they really love Israel.”

On the one hand, it is tempting to argue that such parties as Shas and Yisrael Beiteinu are flirting with the far right as a facet of their strategy to garner any friends it can, at a time when the policies of Netanyahu’s government are alienating allies across Europe. This would certainly explain the recent photo op of Ron Prosor, Israel’s ambassador to the United Nations, with Marine Le Pen, leader of France’s Front National. Given Le Pen’s father’s propensity for Holocaust minimalization, the grubby axiom “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” has rarely been more apt.

Speaking in general terms, this might be a fair assessment, but it also is evident that for certain members of the Knesset, something altogether more sinister is at work. These representatives have entered into a Faustian pact with the dregs of Europe in hopes of eliciting support for a Jewish state cleansed of its Muslim population; and for those on the religious right, for a state grounded in an extreme form of Orthodox Judaism. It is a deal out of which no good can possibly come.
 
Liam Hoare is a freelance writer and graduate student at University College London’s School of Slavonic and East European Studies.

(The Forward) 

 

"Isso é um perigo, e dos grandes. O que a direita europeia prega não é que os israelenses pensam, ao contrário do que disse a Liga de Defesa Inglesa. O povo israelense quer sim paz e coexistência. Porém, o antisemitismo pregado pelos islâmicos também constitui um certo perigo..."