Monthly Archives: January 2007

People You Should Know About: Khaled Kasab Mahameed

mahameed2.jpgIn a previous post, I forwarded a bit of cynical humor regarding the recent Holocaust denial conference in Iran. Now I’d like to share with you one remarkable side story from that event which was not widely reported by the press.

Khaled Kasab Mahameed is an Israeli Arab lawyer who has opened a Holocaust memorial museum (the Arab Institute for Holocaust Research and Education) in his hometown of Nazareth. Mahameed, a Muslim, is devoting his life to educating Arabs about the history of the Holocaust – an understanding he believes is key to establishing peace in the Middle East.

Mahameed was scheduled to attend the conference in Iran and was hoping to use this unique forum to further his mission. Alas (not surprisingly) his visa request was denied by the Iranian authorities at the last moment. (Yes, you got it right: we’ve now gone from ultra-orthodox Jewish Holocaust deniers to a Muslim Arab Holocaust museum curator…)

I’d say Mahmeed’s courage represents at least one small redemptive story in the midst of this whole sorry affair. Here’s a recent piece about him and the conference from the Jewish Forward. For further reading, check out this May 2005 article from the Boston Globe.

Radical Torah

jacob-and-angel.jpgHave you discovered Radical Torah yet? If not, I encourage you to add it to your bookmarks.

According to its own self description,

Radical Torah is a weblog which features multiple takes on parshat hashavua (the weekly Torah portion), as well as commentaries on holidays, rituals and various concepts in Judaism, as seen through the lens of progressive religious and political viewpoints.

The project seeks to provide a resource of authentically Jewish responses to pertinent social justice issues, timed in accordance with their relevancy to the Jewish calendar. Browsable by parsha, topic, holiday, and Hebrew calendar month, the goal is to put “radical Torah” at the fingertips of the Jewish social action community for which there are limited resources available on – and offline.

I’ve been a fan of Radical Torah for some time and, starting this past week, I’ve become a contributor myself. I recommend it especially for those looking for progressive on-line Torah commentary and/or are interested in great Jewish social justice web resources.

Parashat Vayechi 5767

simeon-levi.jpg“Simeon and Levi are brothers/Their weapons are tools of lawlessness/Let not my person be included in their council/Let not my being be counted in their assembly.” - Genesis 49:5-6

Centuries before the term “cycle of violence” was coined, there was Simeon and Levi…

The centerpiece of Parshat Vayechi is Jacob’s final words to his sons – the famous Biblical poem that is equal part blessing and curse, history and prediction. Jacob saves his harshest words for Simeon and Levi, presumably for their slaughter of the citizens of Shechem following the rape of their sister Dinah (Genesis 34.)

Many contemporary commentators suggest that the Torah’s generally pejorative portrayal of Simeon and Levi might reflect the historically landless status of those particular tribes. In his book “Who Wrote the Bible,” Richard Elliot Friedman suggests that both the Dinah episode and Jacob’s final words to Simeon and Levi reveal the pro-Judah bias of the Biblical “J author.” The geopolitical polemics of these references notwithstanding, Simeon and Levi remain for us as mythic models of unmitigated violence (34:25-29) religious cynicism (34:22-24) and zealous attachment to family honor (34:31).

Especially notable is Jacob’s use of the term “klei hamas” (“tools of lawlessness”). The Hebrew word hamas appears several times in the Bible, and has been also rendered as “violence,” “corruption” or “falsehood.” It is probably best known from the flood narrative in Genesis, where it is used to describe the corrupt generation of Noah.

According to Biblical scholar Tikva Frymer – Kensky, the use of hamas in this context represents a uniquely Biblical form of “pollution:”

In Genesis, the earth is filled with hamas and has itself become polluted because all flesh had polluted its way upon the earth (Genesis 6:11-12). It is the filling of the earth with hamas and its resultant pollution that prompts God to bring a flood to physically erase everything from the earth and start anew. The flood is not primarily an agency of punishment (although to be drowned is hardly a pleasant reward), but a means of getting rid of a thoroughly polluted world and starting again with a clean, well-washed one. (Biblical Archeology Review, December 1977, pp. 147-155).

Frymer-Kensky’s insights may offer us a deeper understanding into the nature of Simeon and Levi’s crimes. In the Biblical understanding, their violent actions may create a similar kind of moral and social pollution. Moreover, Jacob understands that the effect of their actions has become so indelible, so potentially contagious, that he has no choice but to disassociate himself from his own sons entirely: “Let not my person be included in their council/Let not my being be counted in their assembly.”

Among the most powerful Divrei Torah ever given on these verses was a speech delivered by the late Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin on February 28, 1994. Four days earlier, a Jewish settler, Baruch Goldstein, had murdered thirty Muslim worshippers in the Cave of Machpelah in Hevron. In a speech before the Knesset, Rabin quoted Jacob’s words to Simeon and Levi. After reciting Jacob’s disavowal of his two children, Rabin continued, addressing the late Goldstein, who was already becoming viewed as a martyr in the eyes of his zealous followers:

To him and to those like him we say: You are not part of the community of Israel. You are not part of the national democratic camp to which we in this house all belong, and many of the people despise you. You are not partners in the Zionist enterprise. You are a foreign implant. You are an errant weed. Sensible Judaism spits you out. You placed yourself outside the wall of Jewish Law. You are a shame on Zionism and an embarrassment to Judaism.

The legacy of Simeon and Levi remains with us still: only one year after delivering these remarks, Rabin himself was murdered by a religious extremist.

Tragically, Simeon and Levi continue to teach us a profound lesson about the contagion of violence. Much like a virus, bloodshed has the very real potential to beget even greater bloodshed. More than anything else, Jacob’s words to Simeon and Levi remind us to recognize the poisonous effects of violence, to resist its power in ourselves and disavow it when it is manifest in the actions of others, even when – or especially when – it emanates from within our own communities. In the 21st century, an age of increasing sectarian violence and religious zealotry, this imperative may be more critical than ever.

Sick to My Stomach

hangmans-noose.jpgLike many of you, I couldn’t avoid images of Saddam’s hanging blasting out at me from every corner of the web this past week. The top posts on most blogs invariably advertised the most “uncensored” version of the now infamous cell phone footage of the Hussein execution. Not a proud week to be a blogger…

Apart from the sheer barbarism of this film being shared so happily across the world and into our computers, I can’t help but be sickened by everything that this event represents. It was put very aptly by John Simpson, the World Affairs editor of the BBC, reporting from Iraq:

Altogether, the execution as we now see it is shown to be an ugly, degrading business, which is more reminiscent of a public hanging in the 18th century than a considered act of 21st century official justice. Under Saddam Hussein, prisoners were regularly taunted and mistreated in their last hours. The most disturbing thing about the new video of Saddam’s execution is that is all much too reminiscent of what used to happen here.

Yes, Saddam was evil incarnate in so many ways, and few could reasonably deny that the world is better off without him. But his botched show trial and rushed execution (in the words of Iraq’s Shi’ite Prime Minister, “an Eid gift to the Iraqi people”) was primal, tribal justice pure and simple. Shame on us all for even being involved in this morass of sectarian vengeance.

On Purim, we will joyfully celebrate the downfall of Haman, another horrible tyrant who met a similarly ignoble fate on the gallows. But the beauty of this holiday is that it comes as one brief moment of absurdist catharsis. Purim is the day we allow our deepest darkest revenge fantasies to hold sway – largely so that they cannot hold their grip upon us during the rest of the year.  In Iraq, alas, we have all been sucked into a Purim-style nightmare from which there is no discernable end in sight.

Adar has come early this year. Be very afraid…