Jewish Current Issues

The Books of October 7

The past year has produced a remarkable array of books about October 7 and its aftermath, including Bernard-Henri Levy’s Israel Alone; Victoria Coates’ The Battle for the Jewish State: How Israel – and America – Can Win; Brendan O’Neill’s After the Pogrom: 7 October, Israel and the Crisis of Civilization; and Daniel Pipes’ Israel Victory: How Zionists Win Acceptance and Palestinians Get Liberated.

There are also a trio of books on the American Jewish response to October 7, including Nolan Lebovitz’s The Case for Dual Loyalty: Healing the Divided Soul of American Jews (being published today), Elliot Cosgrove’s For Such a Time as This: Being Jewish Today; and Elliott Abrams’ If You Will It: Rebuilding Jewish Peoplehood for the 21^st Century. The titles of these books – with Cosgrove’s biblical reference to Esther, Abrams’ invocation of Herzl’s wisdom, and Lebovitz’s allusion to a historical Jewish fear – indicate the scope of the issues.

George Gilder's seminal book, The Israel Test, has just been published in a new third edition by Encounter Books. It is an extraordinary book of history, philosophy, economics, and other approaches to the contribution of the Jewish state to the world.

We are in the middle of a civilizational war, and these books are essential reading for appreciating the stakes. 

A Father's Euolgy for a Fallen Israeli Medic

Daniel Polisar, executive vice president of Shalem College in Jerusalem, has three sons serving Israel in the war Hamas initiated on October 7. Two are in infantry units and the third co-directs a medical team in Gaza, which lost one of its combat medics – Staff Sgt. Shlomo Gurtovnik, 21 – in a Hamas attack on Saturday, November 18.

On November 19, Shlomo Gurtovnik’s father, Alex Gurtovnik, delivered an extraordinarily moving eulogy for his son at the Military Cemetery in Modi’in. Polisar translated it into English as a service to the family and distributed it to friends and family.

Here is the eulogy, simultaneously heartbreaking and inspiring, posted with permission:

My dear son Shlomo:

Your great grandfather, who was named Shlomo Gurtovnik, fell in battle in the Second World War, fighting Nazis. Eighty years later, you fell in battle in Operation Swords of Iron, fighting Nazis.

I know that the Jewish rebels in the concentration camps would have been the happiest of men if they were given the opportunity to die with a weapon in their hands, fighting in one of Israel’s wars. We are no better than they were, but we have been granted a privilege.

There is no hatred in our hearts. We have only a home that is empty.

You learned about Plato in school. He was grateful to God that he was a Greek and not a barbarian, free and not a slave, a man and not a woman. I would like to say:

I am grateful that you were born to the Hebrew people, detested and pursued throughout the world.

I am grateful that our children were born in this tiny and courageous land, threatened on every front.

I am grateful that we served in a people's army that is the most principled and moral in all of history.

There is something that death cannot take away. When you knew that you were going South, to Gaza, you hugged us and you said that you love us. We love you more than anything. And that will always be true.

Forgive us that we were not able to protect you.

Farewell, my sweet son.

 

Photo credit: IDF, as published in the Times of Israel and Ha'aretz

"The Talmud shows us how to ask questions"

At the meeting last night of the Sinai Temple Men's Club, the great Elie Alyeshmerni gave a D'var Torah on questions that engage and those that end the conversation, before David Bernstein presented his book, Woke Antisemitism. Here is a lightly edited excerpt: 

1. This Dvar Torah is about questions and engaging.
2. When I was 11 years old, I was introduced to a section of the Talmud that asked a question that intrigued me. The question was what is the responsibility of a person who loses an item he has been given to safekeep?
3. Even though the author of this Talmudic section Baba Metzia knew the conclusion, he did not give it to us right away. He made us go through examples and counterexamples. It took us three weeks to get through it.
4. Nearly seven decades later, I still remember the answer. I remember it because of the process of engagement I went through. (In case you want to know the answer, it is simply that if you were given consideration -- a fee -- you are responsible. Otherwise, not.
5. The Talmud engaged us. Engaging is our legacy. میراث
6. Our leaders engaged with God. Think of Abraham pleading on behalf of the people of Sodom, Jacob struggling with an angel, Moses pleading for the Jews who had angered God, Job engaging God.
7. Engaging is done through respectful questioning. When Isidor Isaac Rabi who received the Nobel Prize in Physics in 1944 was asked about what led to his success. He credited his upbringing. His parents would ask him whether he had asked a good question in school that day.
8. But engaging and asking questions is not only a Jewish phenomenon. Socrates thought that the truth is reached by asking questions. Hegel talks of thesis and antithesis resulting in synthesis. Thesis is the status quo; antithesis articulates the problems with the thesis’ synthesis is a modification of the thesis that resolves the problem. True synthesis requires hearing both sides. 
9. Lately, we do not want to hear from the other side. We do not question anymore because we know the answers and we are sure of the answers. Why is it so? One answer is that we tend to read mostly what we agree with. The other side’s position becomes more and more distant to us. But when we conclude that a position taken by nearly 50% of the people is wrong, we need to re-engage. We need to understand more. We need to hope to find a person on the other side who can explain that side well.
10. How do we get there? By asking a good question. But we need real questions. Not those that parade as a question but are statements. “When did you stop beating your wife”? is not a question. It is an accusation. What evidence do you have that that is the case? is a question.
11. The Talmud shows us how to ask questions. The question must move the conversation forward. 
12. The Talmud exhausts all discussions till it reaches a conclusion. In very rare cases, it leaves the answer for when the משיח comes.
13. We may think we do the same thing when we say, “Let’s agree to disagree”. But here we are giving up on the conversation. The best thing we can do is to ask a good question of an intelligent well-spoken person who offers another perspective. 

The result of Eli's D'Var Torah was a respectful, informative, spirited discussion -- from multiple perspectives -- of an increasingly important topic. Yasher koach, Eli.

REMEMBERING 9/11/2001

https://jpundit.typepad.com/jci/2006/09/ronald_t_kerwin.html [click on the link for the pictures]. Hat tip: Anne Lieberman of Boker Tov, Boulder, one who remembered and still does:

September 11, 2006

Ronald T. Kerwin -- 9/11 Hero

This post is part of “The 2,996 Project: A Tribute to the Victims of 9/11” -- a tribute by the blogosphere to each victim of 9/11, organized by D.C. Roe, with each tribute created by a different blogger.  

Ronald T. Kerwin, from Levittown, New York, was 42 years old.  He was taken from his wife Diane and three young children, Ryan, Keith and Colleen.  This picture seems to capture his warmth as a father and a husband:

In the next picture he looks a little different -- more serious, more formal, ready to do a difficult job:

Ronald T. Kerwin was a member of Squad 288 of the New York Fire Department -- a 20-year veteran.  He had also been Chief of the Levittown Volunteer Fire Department. 

He was not at the World Trade Center when either of the towers was hit.  As usual, early that morning, he was at his station -- ready, as usual, to risk his life to save others.  He got to the World Trade Center while others were exiting the buildings, or running uptown, or watching on TV.

Here is what Scott Jenkins, a member of the Levittown Fire Department, wrote shortly after Ronald’s death.  It is entitled “To My Chief:”

As most of us stopped, to see the fire in the sky, you were in the trucks, passing us by.  As the unthinkable horror makes us shed a tear, you entered the building, in your rescue gear.  As we sat in panic, praying for no more, you were climbing the stairs, floor by floor. 

We sat confused, awed, and in strife; you were looking, hoping and praying for life.  As the building came down, we feared you would too.  But God gave you wings, and instead you flew by.

We laid you to rest yesterday.  The book is now closed.  You are in a better place, where us fire fighters call the ultimate sacrifice, and the gates are gold.  Say hello to our brothers, our fallen friends.  We all miss you and love you, and we will meet again.  You have answered your final alarm.  God Bless You and keep you by His side.

It seems wrong to call those who died on 9/11 “victims.”  Many, like Ronald Kerwin, were heroes, exhibiting courage and commitment we can barely comprehend.  All were fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, husbands, wives, friends -- each an entire world -- working hard that day to support themselves and others. 

May their memory be a blessing to their families, and may we who did not know them -- but who do now -- recognize we owe them more than mere remembrance.  We owe them the honor of translating their examples into our own lives, and the commitment to confront the evil, still unleashed in the world, that took their lives.

"And None Shall Make Them Afraid" -- Park Avenue Synagogue Podcast, Rabbi Elliot Cosgrove with Rick Richman on his New Book

 

Listen as Rabbi Cosgrove prepares to celebrate Yom Ha’atzmaut – Israel's Independence Day – by speaking to Rick Richman, author of And None Shall Make Them Afraid: Eight Stories of the Modern State of Israel, which presents individuals who played a pivotal role in the history of the State of Israel.

The recording is here and here. The following is from Minute 4 of the recording:

Rabbi Cosgrove: Here’s my thesis about your book … I think that each one of these figures are figures who did not grow up with the trajectory of their ultimate Zionism being self-evident. Herzl, Brandeis, Golda, Ben Hecht, Abba Eban, right -- each one of them had a -- whatever you want to call it -- an “aha” moment, where they took a turn and entered into the stream of Jewish history.

And not so much their geography; [their side] to the left, to the right; male, female; but rather -- my take on your book is that you are exploring a dimension of the human soul, that our stories are not written until they are written.

Rick Richman: That’s a wonderful reading of it, Rabbi -- I appreciate it. And I believe it is true, in the sense that – and these people illustrate it – history is not impersonal, economic, political, diplomatic forces. It is what individuals do, when they decide to do it.

And very few people grow up and know what they want to do, much less become a historic figure, but when they are exposed to ideas and ideals and the history of their people, which goes back 3500 years, they get inspired at some point, and they look around and they say, ‘there is something I can do.’ And even then, they don’t intend to become a historic figure. They simply intend to do something. And with these eight people … they should inspire us, I think. We’re not all historic figures, but we can all contribute something, every individual can, and that is the most inspiring lesson of all.

Rabbi Cosgrove: Amen, amen -- right. They are all these sort of Rabbi Akiva stories who midstream in life were able to deeply impact -- for the better -- the condition of the Jewish people, and that is the message that, as you say, could and should inspire us all. A fabulous book. I got to say -- this book would make a great gift, I mean it’s a great book to have on your shelf, but I think, readable, learning, it represents everything a great book should be.

T. S. Eliot, Louis Zukofsky, Emilio DeGrazia

In October, Literary Hub held a symposium in honor of the 100th anniversary of the publication of T.S. Eliot’s poem, “The Waste Land,” which it called “the most important poem of the 20^th century.”

One of the participants, Jahan Ramazani, a coeditor of The Norton Anthology of Modern and Contemporary Poetry, noted that Eliot’s poem had impacted poets from many diverse backgrounds:

The Jewish objectivist poet Louis Zukofsky’s “Poem Beginning The,” written in the 1920s, adapts Eliot’s techniques of extensive quotation, collage, fragmentation, difficulty, and self-referentiality, playfully incorporating Jewish folk song and translations from Yiddish poetry, alongside high-cultural references, while responding optimistically to the recent Russian revolution.

I had never heard of Zukofsky, but I located a bookseller who had an 826-page book of his poetry for sale: Emilio DeGrazia, Professor Emeritus English, who taught at Winona State University from 1969-2002. The Zukofsky book is simply titled “A” and is a single poem broken into 24 chapters. 

Reviewing the book in 1976 in The New York Times, Hugh Kenner wrote that “A” was “the most hermetic poem in English, which they will still be elucidating in the 22nd century.” I found it hermetic in the sense that I was not able to penetrate it. 

But along with the book and the bill, DeGrazia send me, gratis, a lovely poem of his own, titled “What Leaves Know” (2020) -- which was worth the price of the book:

WHAT LEAVES KNOW

The power of place,

Their role

In the dazzling outcome of roots.

The art of living within view

Of the two fragrances of life,

Sun and shade.

 

The politics of free passage

For air allied to no state.

 

The turn the other cheek tactic

For storms gone wild.

How to brew the air we crave.

 

How to orchestrate

The incomparable music

Composed by anonymous winds.

 

Leaves know how to sway

And dance,

How to put their colors on,

Blaze away, be

 

Outward and visible signs

Of a big beautiful thing

Wonderfully in the way.

 

On foggy still nights

They know the atonement of sleep,

The moment to let go.

 

The poem is from, in the words of Joyce Sutphen, Minnesota Poet Laureate, "DeGrazia's marvelous new collection of poems, What Trees Know, ... they certainly picked the right poet to speak for them."

She writes that "DeGrazia is, at heart, a teacher, one whose very nature is to lead others in an ever-expanding quest for knowledge, and as in all great quests, he ends up where he began -- with family, nature and wisdom that comes from the heart."

It reminds one of the last stanza in Eliot's poem "Little Gidding" in Four Quartets: "We shall not cease from exploration/ And the end of all our exploring/ Will be to arrive where we started/ And know the place for the first time." 

Here is a video of Dr. Emilio DeGrazia: "Emilio DeGrazia: Professor Emeritus English" by Retiree Center, Winona State University

Webcast THURSDAY, AUG. 11, NOON PACIFIC (3 PM EASTERN): David Kertzer's "The Pope at War"

THE POPE AT WAR

When Pope Pius XII died in 1958, his papers were sealed in the Vatican Secret Archives. Open the vault with David Kertzer during this riveting discussion about his new book, The Pope at War.

REGISTER HERE.  

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Thursday, August 11, 2022

Noon Pacific -- 3 p.m Eastern 

Online

Based on thousands of never-before-seen documents not only from the Vatican, but from archives in Italy, Germany, France, Britain, and the United States, The Pope at War paints a new, dramatic portrait of what the pope did and did not do as war enveloped the continent and as the Nazis began their systematic mass murder of Europe’s Jews. Join author David Kertzer and AJU Board Member, Rick Richman for a jaw dropping discussion about this instant New York Times bestseller. Buy the book HERE. 

The Holocaust in a Single Short Story

Today is Holocaust Martyrs’ and Heroes’ Remembrance Day. Every year, Israel chooses six survivors to light torches at Yad Vashem in Jerusalem on this day, in memory of the six million who were murdered during the Holocaust.

Here is the capsule story of one of them, Shaul Spielmann, born in Vienna in 1931, deported in 1943 – twelve years old -- to Auschwitz with his family:

Shaul's name was on the list of prisoners destined for extermination, but his father Benno, who worked in the camp office as a registrar, moved it to a list of older boys, thus saving him from death. In January 1945, Shaul and the other prisoners were forced on a death march. "We walked in forests, on paths strewn with corpses. At night, the prisoners lay on the ground in the frost; by morning, some had frozen to death." After liberation he immigrated to Israel and fought in the War of Independence and subsequent Israeli wars. He worked in Magen David Adom, saving many lives.

Here is the full stunning story, set forth below so you don’t even have to click to read it.

Shaul Spielmann was born in 1931 in Vienna, Austria, the only son of Benno, an engineer at the Austrian Electric Company, and Jossefa, a pianist who ran the family-owned delicatessen.

"The day after the Anschluss in March 1938, the principal informed me and the other two Jewish students that because of the Nuremberg Laws we could not continue to study at the school. I returned home in tears. My father told had also been fired."

"Two days later, SA officers broke into our apartment. One put a gun to my head and told my father that if he did not hand over all the money, gold and valuables in the house, he would have to scrape my brain off the wall. Mother collapsed. Father gave them everything. I was terribly afraid the officer would accidentally shoot, because his finger was on the trigger."

The Germans confiscated the family's apartment and delicatessen. The family made a living from Benno's work in the Jewish community. They remained in Austria with Shaul's grandfather, who was too unwell to leave.

One night in September 1942, Shaul and his family were sent to a Jewish school that had been turned into a detention facility and from there were taken to the Terezin ghetto. About a year later, in November 1943, they were deported to Auschwitz.

"I wish I could forget the ramp at Birkenau. There, the gates of hell opened. We were surrounded by SS men with formidable dogs. Screams from the loudspeakers and bright spotlights on all sides." Elderly people, who fell onto the ramp as they exited, were trampled to death by those getting off the wagon. "It was freezing. Even the blood that had been shed froze."

Shaul's grandmother died in the camp. Jossefa became ill and was transferred to the Infirmary Block.

"I knocked on the wall and called her name until she answered me. I managed to move a wooden board and looked inside. She was a skeleton and could not get out of bed. One morning, her body was taken out on a cart."

 Shaul's name was on the list of prisoners destined for extermination, but his father Benno, who worked in the camp office as a registrar, moved it to a list of older boys, thus saving him from death. Benno was sent to another labor camp. "I saw my father among the marching prisoners. I managed to throw him a bag over the electric fence. He gestured with his fist: 'Hold on.' That was the last time I saw him." In August 1944, Shaul was selected for extermination. However, the Children's Block overseer, Viennese by birth, appealed the decision, arguing that Shaul was essential for work. Shaul was saved once more.

In January 1945, Shaul and the other prisoners were forced on a death march.

"We walked in forests, on paths strewn with corpses. At night, the prisoners lay on the floor in the frost; by morning, some had frozen to death."

 Shaul was liberated by the US Army in the Gunskirchen camp while suffering from typhus. After recovering, he immigrated to Eretz Israel (Mandatory Palestine) and volunteered for the Palmach. He fought and was wounded in the War of Independence. He fought in all the subsequent Israeli wars until the Yom Kippur War. He worked in Magen David Adom in the Negev area, saving many lives and training the younger generations.

Shaul and Myriam have seven children, 18 grandchildren and seven great-grandchildren.

Andrew Pessin's "Nevergreen"

Andrew Pessin's novel "Nevergreen" -- the fictional story of a physician invited to speak at Nevergreen College, who becomes the center of a firestorm of unearned politically-correct controversy -- may remind readers of the real-life incident at Evergreen College involving Bret Weinstein, or perhaps the real-life one involving Pessin himself at Connecticut College, where he is a professor of philosophy. The main character is named simply "J" -- which may also remind readers of Howard Jacobson's novel of that name. 

But "Nevergreen" is also a remarkably well-written novel that stands on its own, as a compelling story, simultaneously satirical and serious. Its assured style is apparent from the first paragraph, where J is on his way to give the speech that will change his life:

He saw her from ten rows away, as she was coming down the aisle. The heavy bubble-themed sweater, the warm smile cast indiscriminately at the other passengers as she bobbed along. He dropped his eyes, anxiously glanced at the empty seat next to him, braced himself for the inevitable. "Good morning, friend!" the woman exuberated as she slipped her carry-on overhead and her carrion into the seat beside him.

The blurbs for this book come from such people as Liel Leibovitz of Tablet Magazine, William Jacobson of Cornell University, and Donna Robinson Divine of Smith College.

It is worth reading both as fiction and as a reflection on our real-life times. Much more information and background about the book is available at andrewpessin.com/nevergreen. Available at Amazon here. 

Did the American Military Die in Vain in Afghanistan?

Longtime readers of JCI will remember the short essay by Jordan Blashek, "The Making of a Marine," published here in 2010, five months into his four-year service commitment. The post received more comments, most of them from military personnel, than any other post in JCI's history.

Bari Weiss has just published Blashek's powerful essay, "Did My Fellow Soldiers Die in Vain?", in the wake of the loss of Afghanistan to the Taliban. Here is the beginning of the essay:

The other night, a friend texted to see how I was doing. We don’t know each other that well, but we had both served overseas in Afghanistan. We were sad — sad in a way that makes it hard to move. We felt the same way in 2014 when Fallujah fell to ISIS. That was painful too, but it taught us how to move forward. We learned that it’s just a matter of time before the stunned feeling washes away.

But then my friend sent another message. His first cousin Mike, a Marine lieutenant, had been killed in Afghanistan in 2009, and now Mike’s mother was devastated all over again. The past 72 hours had raised all those painful questions: What was it for? Did he die for nothing?

I broke down. I went into the shower and sobbed.

I’m not here to offer any political opinions or policy recommendations. There are enough of those flying around in the wake of the Taliban’s capture of Kabul, and they won’t change the conditions on the ground. They won’t help the tens of thousands of Americans and Afghan allies trapped there, hiding with their families or begging to be let into the airport.

But I do want to write to Mike’s mom, a Gold Star Mother watching all of this and wondering if her child died in vain. I want her to know what her son’s life meant to me. I want her to know what it was all for. 

Both essays are worth reading today.